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some-bunniii · 2 days

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Lucifer dotes on a mama!reader

・❥ Caring for an infant isn’t easy, but luckily, you’ve got a charming king willing to do anything for you.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

x: reader is fem, no use of y/n.

xx: it’s here! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, but lots of think you’ll enjoy it! keep your eyes out for some pretty art i commissioned inside!

~ 15k words

When you welcomed your daughter into the realm, and finally reached that next long stretch of motherhood, you had prepared yourself for the many changes that accompanied the new addition.

For example, your sleep schedule flipped entirely on its head once you realized that newborn babies slept only a few hours intermittently, which meant a good, long night's rest did not exist anymore.

You found yourself putting your daughter down for a nap at six in the morning, having spent the previous night breastfeeding and soothing her cries. Sometimes, her wailing lasted several hours, and you began to worry if she had a hellish form of colic. You prayed it wasn’t that, because that would mean it would worsen for the next month or so.

The first few weeks were spent holed up in your room, away from the loud noises and constant active state of the rest of the hotel. It was pretty easy, seeing as it was basically a studio apartment, save for the kitchen, which was an exhausting walk down the hall, even more so than when you were pregnant.

“Ya look terrible, mama,” Angel Dust had grimaced with a laugh when you appeared like a ghost late one night inside the much posher lobby, your complexion sunken and drained as your feet dragged across the red carpet.

He had just arrived home from a long day at the studio, his expression equally as drained but his demeanor much livelier than your zombie appearance.

You probably did look terrible, in your oversized pajamas that no doubt had stains of baby spit-up and breast milk. You looked unsightly, a mess, that pregnancy glow extinguished like a flame as you tiredly frog blinked in Angel’s direction.

“Need… to clean the milk bottles… before she wakes up,” you mumbled, lifting three small, dirty baby bottles to view.

“Ya need any help?”

“No, thanks. M’fine,” you waved him off with a yawn, slowly crossing the room towards the kitchen doors.

There was no reason to bother him with such a task, it was your baby, and he already had enough to deal with at the studio.

“Well, have a good time then. I'm jus’ gonna call it an early night an’ head ta bed,” Angel replied, bidding farewell as he turned and left the lobby.

Your head twisted to catch a glimpse of his figure turning the corner, surprise crossing your features at his sudden departure. Usually, Angel Dust had a couple of drinks after work or went out to party until the early hours of the morning.

Tonight, the only thing on the spider demon’s mind was to curl up with Fat Nuggets and sleep those troubling emotions away.

He had been drinking far less lately, or, at least, had been keeping his habits away from the hotel ever since the new hotel was built and your daughter was born. No more did the pornstar burst in after a night at the studio, eyes red and speech slurred as he spoke gibberish and laughed at nothing in particular.

Even though it was Hell, you were determined to keep the gateways into a chaotic life away from your daughter. She was going to have the best quality of life possible in such a place, and you were vocal about your disapproval of those habits, especially in a place that’s supposed to be free of such sin.

When Cherri began staying longer and longer at the hotel, you were apprehensive at first with how much deeper she seemed to be in ‘the life’. Would she sink further into the depths after Sir. Pentious’ death? It wasn’t easy for someone to deal with both grief and guilt at the same time.

Fortunately, she had the support of the residents inside the hotel, and she was finding healthier outlets than a thin line of white powder to quell her pain.

You were grieving too, even if you hadn’t known Sir. Pentious that long in comparison to the others, the little time you spent with him was all but enough.

Sir. Pentious was kind, and courteous, and made the best cookies you’d ever tasted. You had a connection with the snake demon with your shared enjoyment in cooking, and you welcomed the assistance of his Egg Boiz taste-testing your delicacies.

Now, he was gone, and the emptiness of his departure was palpable inside the hotel. His loyal egg companions now dwindled to just one singular yolk, the rest having sacrificed their shells along with their selfless general.

Frank, who had survived solely because he had guarded you at the hospital, returned home to an empty nest and no boss.

You weren’t sure whether the little guy could understand how double death worked, but the way he stared longingly at Sir. Pentious’ portrait in the lobby that he knew his old family was gone for good.

Charlie had done her best to integrate him into the staff, him a room service attendant. He stayed your faithful helper in that way, summoned to your door by the newly installed service button whenever you needed.

“Sorry for bothering you, Frank,” you had smiled down at him, poking your head out from the inside of your room, your daughter latched onto your nipple, “But I’m out of toilet paper and I'm kind of busy right now. Could you go grab me some, please?”

“Sure thing!” He replied chipperly, lifting his hat courteously from the top of his shell before he scampered down the hall and out of view.

He’d return with your items of request, as he did for all the rest of the residents. It kept him busy, allowing his one-track mind to stay away from thinking hard thoughts about what was lost for too long.

Those hard thoughts plagued you as well, as you dealt with the grief of losing a friend and the mood swings that began to take over you. The hormonal changes that came post-birth was also something you prepared for, the ‘baby blues’ as most would call it.

It had started as mood swings, the typical sudden bursts of emotions that accompanied your pregnancy, and the ones that liked to show their face around your period. Suddenly, you’d find yourself shooting a glare at a particularly noisy conversation outside of your door, or find your eyes welling up with tears at the slightest inconvenience.

A mix of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones was not a good one, and you were determined to keep this weakness away from your friends.

What if they thought you weren’t doing a good job as a mother? All that time, energy, and resources that were used to help you and your baby. They’d think it was all a waste, caring so much only for you to end up a disappointment.

Was that… how your ex had felt when he chose a whore over his lover and child?

Those thoughts began to plague you, and your anxiety heightened with every passing day. The idea that their judgments on your parenting would be harsh had you withdrawing for longer periods inside your room, and farther away from your friends.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to keep your feelings completely hidden from them, and you realized quickly how erratic your emotions actually were.

One day, Vaggie had swung by to inform you that they had ordered some pizza, and you were welcome to have some too. You were busy breastfeeding your baby at the time, and had to wait until she was sound asleep to sneak out of your room and into the kitchen.

When you finally arrived, your stomach growled with giddy anticipation as you passed by the others who had mostly finished their plates, your lateness obvious. The lobby was filled with chatter, all the residents gathered for a nice meal and to catch up on anything new that had transpired during the week.

When you reached the partially open pizza box inside the empty kitchen, that delicious scent wafted to your nose and you licked your lips hungrily. Gripping the lid, you lifted it quickly, your mind already picturing whatever goodness lay inside.

Was it the classic pepperoni that couldn’t go wrong? Maybe it was from that new pizzeria down the block with their best-selling macaroni and cheese…

Your train of thought derailed, your gaze narrowing at the contents inside the box.

A singular slice of pizza was all that remained inside, your most hated topping sprinkled atop the now-cooled cheese.

Your lip curled at the sight, irritation flickering across your face at the lonely slice. You heard laughter from the conversation behind you, and that only had your eye twitching.

You had lived with these guys during the most intense months of your cravings, and they were aware of what kind of pizza you devoured in an instant and which ones had you gagging. And, only one slice? Had they forgotten about you, even though you had told Vaggie you’d come down after feeding the baby?

You were itching to commit some sort of violence, which had you steeling your arms from lifting the box and chucking it against the wall.

Those intrusive thoughts had you rubbing your temple with a frustrated sigh, before lifting a hand to begin plucking the disgusting toppings from the slice.

As you placed the last of it onto the cardboard, you grabbed the pizza and threw it into the microwave nearby. Your foot tapped impatiently against the marble tile as the slice spun slowly inside the appliance, your thoughts spinning along with it.

By the time you had made it out of the kitchen with steaming food, your tolerance for social interaction was drained, and it seemed a better idea to just eat in your room.

Passing by a few familiar faces, you only greeted them with a tight smile, walking fast enough so that they’d assume you were busy and it would be less likely for them to invite you to chat.

Right as you were about to turn the corner into the hall, plate in hand, a figure rounded the corner and smacked into you head-on. Your chests collided, and you felt the plate slip from your grip, you snapped your head up to see the familiar apple-cheeked woman meet your gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlie gasped, right as the pizza slid off your plate and began to free-fall down to the carpet.

Your eyes widened, and Charlie tensed as the pizza splat face-down, the tomato sauce beginning to ooze from the sides like a bloody scene and your hand began to tremble.

At first, those intrusive thoughts were prodding you to snap at her, but you held your tongue. That anger quickly morphed into gloom, and your eyes cast down longingly to the overturned slice.

Your lip quivered, and your chest heaved as you took a shaky breath to keep those tears from falling. Charlie’s brows furrowed and she slowly matched your expression as guilt squeezed her stomach. The banter around you quieted, but your gaze was firmly on the woman in front of you.

Fuck, that was the one thing you were looking forward to today. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of the princess, however, that would heighten her concern, and she already had enough on her plate with the new clients.

“Here, let me get Niffty to clean this up and I can get you some more piz—”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” You interrupted her, a quiet growl laced in your wavering words as you chuckled humorously, “There isn’t anything left, this was all you guys cared enough to save for me.”

Charlie’s eyes widened at your tone, before she opened her mouth to speak again just as Niffty walked forward to clean the mess. Looking down, you took notice of the large glob of sauce that had landed on your top, and you clenched your fists in frustration.

“If you excuse me, I have to get changed now,” you huffed, spinning on your heels to face the hallway, not giving the princess any time to press further as you briskly walked away.

That hot, salty liquid began to spill down your cheeks right as you entered into the long corridor, and you desperately tried to wipe them away. Your face was rubbed dry in a desperate bid to silence the tears.

What was wrong with you? It was one slice of pizza, yet your heart ached like your lottery ticket was one number away from winning. Charlie’s expression had proved your mask was beginning to crack, with the mix of concern and surprise toward your change in demeanor.

Motherhood isn't easy, that had been clear since day one, but you had hoped your emotions would have stabilized by now. It seems that sleep exhaustion and maternal hormones just don’t mix very well, huh?

That incident had been so embarrassing, that you kept to yourself the rest of the week, only venturing out when necessary, which had you spending most of your time with your daughter.

Your baby couldn’t speak yet, and wouldn’t for quite a while, which meant you had to speak for her. Usually, you attached words to the silly little faces she would make at any action you or another demon did around her.

The one time you switched her bottle from breast milk to formula, she didn’t seem too happy about it with how big of a stink eye she sent you chugging down her dinner. Peaches was only a month and a half, but her expressiveness was that of a moody, hormonal teenager.

You spent many hours cooped up with her, sometimes, you needed to have a little fun and play puppeteer one evening as the two of you lounged on your bed.

You squished your daughter's cheeks, making tiny little duck lips as you pitched your voice higher, “Yes, Mama, I promise to sleep through the whoooole night this time!”

“Wonderful,” you beamed, using your other hand to pat her approvingly on the stomach, “And you’ll drink your whole bottle without fuss?”

“Yes, Mama! And, I wi—”

“What are you doing?” An amused, honeyed voice came from across your room.

You froze, turning towards the open doorway, your fingers still pinched around the baby's lips as your eyes widened at the familiar face.

There, standing leisurely against his cane, was the casually dressed ‘Big Boss of Hell’. Lucifer’s blonde hair was slicked back, a few curls framing his statuesque features. Those warm, golden eyes and skin that practically shimmered against the waning daylight from your window.

He tilted his head with a soft, playful smile, as he drank in your figure. The red evening light basked the bed with a warm glow that lit your eyes up like diamonds, enhancing your maternal elegance as you bonded with your daughter.

Your love for her was obvious, and that always had Lucifer’s heart fluttering, seeing something so pure exist in such a grim world.

Slowly, you slid off the bed, your smile widening every step closer you took towards the king as you crossed the room. Somehow, even in your melancholic state, his presence always seemed to have you energized and bouncy.

“Your Majesty,” you batted your lashes, coming to a stop at the doorway before leaning casually against it.

“M’lady,” his grin widened into a wide, teeth-glinting smile as he lifted his hand to present a caramel-coated apple nestled snugly atop a thin, wooden stick. Your stomach growled on cue, and the scent that wafted to your nose had your mouth watering.

“Looks like that glow hasn’t left you yet, if I do say,” he replied, his eyes flicking across your figure before meeting your gaze again.

You only shook your head with a breath of laughter, reaching forward and plucking the delicacy from his grip and turning it in your fingers.

“Charlie says she hasn’t seen you for a few days, you really should go and get some fresh air once in a while,” Lucifer continued as you widened the doorway for him to enter, shooting you a stern glance as spoke.

Is he talking right now? You quirked a brow as he slid past, lifting the offering to your lips and taking a large, hungry bite out of the treat.

Lucifer’s eyes were on one being in particular, swaddled snuggly across the room on your bed. His gaze lingered on your daughter for a few moments, before he turned to face you again.

“How is everything going?”

“Good,” you lied.

“That’s great to hear,” his warm smile widened, and his eyes flicked back over to your daughter, before snapping back to you.

Lucifer’s cane twisted between his fingers nervously as he opened his mouth to speak, before disregarding his thoughts and clamping his mouth shut with a small huff.

You only titled your head at that, your lips curving into a more genuine smile as you watched him.

Children were such a soft spot for Lucifer, you could tell the way his demeanor changed instantly when he was in the presence of a baby. His voice turned to velvet whenever his gentle tone gained from experience in soothing their little ears.

You couldn’t imagine how beautiful lullabies sounded with those vocals of his, the very thought making you melt like butter. Although, you haven't gotten the chance to hear them yet.

His parental instincts seemed to have resurfaced with the birth of your daughter, and that natural affinity for caring for the innocent and helpless buried along with his angelic began to emerge with each passing visit.

He kept his love at a distance, at first. Almost as if he was afraid of getting attached to such a tiny being, like the emotions that came along with it were a deadly force that could take him out far quicker than angelic steel.

Was it because the baby wasn’t his? Did he think you didn’t want him around your child? Maybe, one day he assumed you’d take the baby and leave, and those growing would only break his heart along with your departure.

You just needed to prove him wrong.

“Come on,” you finally nudged him with a laugh, setting the apple on a table nearby, before beckoning him to follow you towards the bed.

It seemed as if Lucifer had been waiting for your approval, as his demeanor lightened at your words and he slowly followed you. His steps were light and quiet as you neared the side of the bed, stopping just as he settled beside you.

“Peaches! You’re looking quite radiant this evening,” Lucifer greeted with a flourish, as he leaned over the side of your bed, and your daughter’s eyes widened at the familiar face.

Your eyes flicked up to the fallen angel at his words. Peaches, the nickname he had come up with. Shockingly, a name that didn’t derive from apples, ducks, or the circus.

“Well, aren't you just a peach, so quiet and easy for your mama!'' Lucifer had cooed to the little one her first days in Hell, she lay in your arms as he softly brushed a thumb across her chin, “So adwowable wit those chubby wittle cheeks.”

Your baby had only frowned at the strange man’s touch with a half-lidded gaze, but soon she’d learn to get used to Lucifer’s presence, as he never disappeared for too long without visiting his three favorite girls.

You had a real name for your daughter that was chosen after her birth, but that could be reserved for when you’d have to pull out the full name card during arguments in her teenage years. Peaches had been a simple phrase that seemed to stick, and even if you weren’t fond of the cute addressal, you wouldn’t dare ruin his first attachment to your daughter.

Peaches had only stared up at the porcelain figure invading her space with a curious gaze, no doubt wondering who this silly was, and why he always left her gifts to fawn over.

Like the first day you came home from the hospital, he presented you with a beautiful red, silken bassinet, with intricate gold lines woven into the detailed design, enhancing the elegance of the crib. Its plushness looked very comfortable for your daughter, and you adored that Lucifer got you something in the first place.

Another time, he brought you a golden mobile that depicted ducks flying rhythmically in circles, ones that threw vibrant, warm lights across the walls late at night, soothing the girl’s late wakings before they woke you at times.

That seemed to be Lucifer’s love language towards your daughter, always presenting her with toys and other little gizmos he cooked up inside of his workshop. Finally, the fallen angel had found purpose for the dusty space, instead of constantly tweaking the same old, yellow rubber ducky day after day.

“For you, a fan-favorite from the vault,” Lucifer hummed as he snapped his fingers, and a stuffed goat with devilish horns and bat wings materialized in his hands.

Right as he pulled the plush from behind his back, Peaches became enamored with it, kicking her legs in excitement as the stuffed animal was held high for her to get a full view. Her motor control was still poor, and she couldn’t grasp the amusing creature, but its colorful fur and dragon-like features were something to gawk at in the little one’s eyes.

“Look, she’s smiling!” You beamed beside the fallen angel, heart melting as you watched the little girl’s mouth open with a squeal at the offering, “I think that’s her biggest one yet!”

“It seems I’m just a natural at this kind of thing, huh?” Lucifer winked playfully your way, before he levitated the toy just above your daughter’s head, whose attention was solely on the little goat plush, “I think she’s even starting to like me, too.”

‘You’re such a good daddy, please let me make you one again.’

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you replied instead with a simple nod, before turning on your heels to hide your goofy smile and retrieve the caramel apple once more.

You plucked the apple from the table, before biting another large chunk from its side. The flavors swirled in your mouth, and that fog in your mind lessened a little more with each bite.

You watched from a short distance, as Lucifer’s index finger pointed towards the air above your daughter’s head. With a flick of his wrist, a trail of golden sparks shot from his fingertip and upward above their heads, before exploding into a flurry of sparkles that sent golden shadows across the room.

Peaches was digging the light show, her eyes fixated on the floating spectacle before they flickered out of existence.

“Anything else going on?” The king finally spoke, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of you.

“Not really, just taking it one day at a time,” you responded absentmindedly, lifting the coated apple to your lips to take another bite.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He blurted, smile cracking wider as straightened himself against his cane.

You froze, brain short-circuiting as those words processed in your head. You, free? As in, available to partake in some sort of activity with Lucifer?

“Yes, technically…” you trailed off, gaze flicking to your daughter, giddy on her bed as she watched the stuffed goat, “But I can’t just leave the baby alone all evening, she needs me.”

“She doesn’t need you, she’s fine with someone else for a few hours,” he waved off your excuse, before throwing another trail of sparklings into the air, and they exploded in a flurry of golden glimmers above the baby’s head, “I’m sure Charlie would love to spoil the kid for a few hours anyway, don’t you trust her?”

“Yes…”

“I was thinking,” Lucifer continued, beginning to take a few slow, deliberate steps towards you, “Nothing too crazy, just a nice, quiet evening with good food. Maybe throw some of my good wine into the mix, what do you say?”

He sent you a sultry, half-lidded gaze as he sidled closer to you, the caramel apple in your grip lowering from your lips as Lucifer enraptured your full attention, heat blooming across your cheeks at his expression.

“If that is what His Majesty wishes, then I cannot refuse such an offer,” you struggled to keep your voice from wavering, the heat in your cheeks creeping farther down your body.

“But do you want it?” He pressed, only a foot away from you now, his lips upturned in a smirk at your flustered expression.

Apparently, those horny hormones had also stuck around after your pregnancy. Having such a gorgeous, ethereal figure so close to you made your heart skip a beat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

“I… think that is a very lovely offer, and I would enjoy being able to spend time in just your company,” you finally replied carefully, a smile blooming across your lips.

“Perfect!” Lucifer clapped his hands together, his eyes glinting with glee as he took a step away from you, back toward the bed.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” The king cooed softly to your daughter, as he plucked the stuffed goat from the air, “Take good care of this little guy, he’s a special one.”

Lowering the plush, Lucifer placed it gently against your baby’s chest, and her chubby little hands came up to wrap firmly around the toy. Ungracefully, the goat was lifted to Peaches’ lips before she opened her mouth to begin suckling on its ear.

“I bet that tastes delicious,” Lucifer laughed, and you smiled fondly at the duo with a tilt of your head.

The fallen angel took a step back from the bed after a moment, before he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. That familiar white, brim hat materialized from thin air into his grasp, and he turned to you with a smile.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm a very busy man and have other matters to attend to,” Lucifer sighed dramatically, brushing past you towards the doorway.

“I have no doubt,” you shook your head with a laugh, following him towards the end of your room.

Lucifer reached the open doorway, before turning to face you again. He met your gaze for a few moments, before he leaned forward in a bow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, m’lady,” he hummed with delight, adjusting his hat against those beautiful golden curls as you smiled warmly.

“Is there a dress code for our little outing?” you responded with a mischievous grin.

The king only sent you a playful wink, before he stepped out of view and the soft thuds of heeled boots against carpet faded as he disappeared down the hall.

That interaction with Lucifer stewed in your mind for the entire night, as well as into the early morning. Your thoughts drifted to the previous conversation as you snuck down the hall and into the lobby to grab breakfast from the kitchen.

The others were fairly busy, so you were easily able to travel unseen. Angel Dust was working overtime at the studio for a new porn flick, and Charlie was using the extermination to push her hotel further into the spotlight and attract new clients. Vaggie always went along with her, and Alastor was probably up in his fancy new radio tower, doing whatever it was he did up there.

It was only Husk who remained, always behind the bar, shining the bottles and whistling a strange blues tune. He had begun to rope in his drinking as well, choosing to pick up a bottle much later in the day than usual. It was the early morning hour, when you passed by the bar with breakfast in your hands, and the sober bartender turned to you.

“How’s the kid doing?”

“She’s fine, growing very fast too, gaining more control over her movement every day.”

“That's nice,” Husk’s lips curved a smidge, as he placed the glassware neatly underneath the counter, “Haven’t seen you in a while, glad to know ya ain’t dead or nothin’.”

“Yes…” You said slowly, mind racing for a good excuse, “She has just been fussy lately, so I’ve been tending to her.”

“You should bring her out one of these days,” He lifted his eyes from the glass in his paws, meeting yours with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the others would be happy to see her.”

You couldn’t tell whether Husk was using the term ‘others’ as an inclusion of him as well, you knew the furry demon had a heart somewhere beneath those layers of fur and grumpiness.

You nodded your head at his words, taking a bite of your breakfast, thoughts drifting as you chewed. You’d have to ask Charlie about babysitting anyway, and you couldn’t avoid her forever.

Maybe, knowing that you were going out with her dad, she’d be thrilled to shoulder the responsibilities of a newborn for a single night, or, she could hate it… which was something you desperately tried not to think too hard about, for your sanity.

Needless to say, Husk was right, your daughter really brought the best out of your friends, as they melted in her vicinity. None of the residents at the hotel had any problem looking after the adorable little demon.

Charlie had stood quietly in the lobby, humming a tune as she rocked the baby softly in her arms. Vaggie stood beside her, tilting her head as Peaches’ eyelids began to droop at the gentle motions.

“They’re as cute as the ones in Heaven, maybe cuter,” The fallen angel spoke with a smile, her hand lifting towards the little girl’s head, before tiny fingers wrapped around a single digit and clamped tight.

“And strong too, wow,” She laughed, trying to gently dislodge her finger from the steel grip.

In the hallway behind them, you turned the corner into the lobby, anxiously fiddling with your appearance as you neared the trio. Dressed in a wine-red outfit, you stumbled slightly in your heels as you navigated over the plush carpet.

Finally, you were actually able to fit into fashionable attire. Your stomach was no longer inflated with an eight-pound baby, and the aching of your once swollen feet no longer bothered you to continue venturing the world in socks and flip-flops.

“You look really nice in that outfit!” Charlie beamed as she turned at the sounds of footsteps, and Vaggie nodded beside her. Your daughter’s eyes widened at the exclamation, before moving to your figure, tracking your figure as you joined them near the bar.

Angel Dust was lounging on a bar stool, swishing alcohol absentmindedly inside a martini glass as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, before catching a glimpse of your outfit with a knowing smirk.

“Someone is dressin’ to impress,” he playfully nudged Husk’s shoulder over the bar counter, who turned his head from the bottles he was organizing to sneak a peek.

Everyone knew who you were trying to impress, and when you came back, they would no doubt prod you for any juicy details.

You stopped in front of Charlie, smiling as you adjusted your outfit again. You had spent the past few hours getting ready, which also included multiple outfit changes because you were never satisfied with your appearance. You needed to look good, really good if you were going on a date with the king.

Why would Lucifer want anything to do with you? You had nothing to offer, just tired eyes and a baby on your hip. There had to be better options, surely. Just because the man never went anywhere other than his manor and the hotel, didn’t mean there wasn’t a line of demons wanting to fill the place of Charlie’s mother.

Lilith. You tried desperately not to think of her, for your own self-esteem. You had seen pictures of her, in old magazines and glimpses of family portraits in Charlie’s room. Lucifer spoke of her when talking about his daughter’s childhood or humorous memories, but he seemed to keep the reminiscing of her specifically curt around you.

You struggled to understand why, did he think you’d react poorly to the mention of his ex-wife? Except, It wasn’t your place to act that way, though. She had been married to the king for thousands of years and was the mother of his child. She was the Queen of Hell for crying out loud! Not to mention, drop-dead gorgeous, had a fantastic voice, and cared deeply for her people’s wellbeing.

In comparison, you were a sad sack of potatoes. At least, in your opinion.

Self-conscious thoughts like these had slowly begun to fester during your early pregnancy, and peaked when your stomach resembled a watermelon, and, for some reason, it had decided to make a nest in your brain postpartum. Laying more seeds of anxiety and dejection deeper within your mind.

But, when Lucifer was around, it was like you could finally breathe again. His energy was warm and inviting, like taking a sip of the finest liquor and that buzz in your brain thirsting for more. It felt like snuggling your face into soft sheep's wool, nothing but comfort and relief from the harshness of the realm.

Even if the fallen angel was no longer welcomed inside Heaven’s gates, he still retained that ethereal grace that made you feel like you were committing the largest sin just by staring too hard at those soft lips of his.

The king cared about you, in a way nobody did. He was the only demon in your group who had any experience with raising a child, and he was your support when it came to understanding the same stages of parenthood you were currently going through. In a much lesser light, of course, he had never actually birthed a child and suffered the effects of such a–literal–mind altering experience.

Tonight, you’d be able to have Lucifer all to yourself, and you were determined to make the most of it.

You had held back from making any advances towards him for so long due to that golden band on his finger that glinted painfully in your eyes. A reminder of his attachment to his ex-wife, and the fragility of your close bond.

What if Lilith were to come back? Would he choose her, and distance himself from you? What of you then, being dragged by the heartstrings for so long just to have them snapped in your face at his rejection?

That thought had terrified you, so you kept your feelings hidden, and let Lucifer set the pace on how far things would go. You were determined to start changing that, starting tonight.

As you came to a halt in front of Charlie and Vaggie, your daughter cooed softly, and you reached out a hand to run gentle fingers across her cheek lovingly.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. Bottles in the fridge you just need to warm up, first aid kit in my room, and I’ll have my phone on ring in case there’s an emergency,” you nervously triple-recounted everything in your mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Charlie sent you a confident nod of her head, her fingers tightening around your baby as her smile grew.

It is then you come to realize how good of a big sister the princess could make if she were to have a younger sibling. Your heart swelled at that, as you imagined your daughter at least finding companionship in the young woman. Charlie looked like she could really pull off a stellar children’s tea party.

“I know you do, you’re always so responsible,” you replied warmly, and the princess's eyes widened for a moment, before her lips upturned into a grateful smile as you lowered your hand from your daughter’s face.

“So, where are you going?” Vaggie inquired.

“I don’t know, he just told me to wait outside my balcony door. Which means I should probably head there now, if everything is fine out here.”

“We’re good, toots!” Angel Dust called from behind Charlie, throwing his head back before downing the rest of the liquor in his glass, “Go have some fun!”

You nodded, before wishing farewell to your daughter and the rest of the demons in the lobby before turning on your heel and heading back towards your room.

“I hope those two have fun,” Vaggie said as you disappeared around the corner.

“I have to use the bathroom, will you take Peaches for me?” Charlie turned towards her girlfriend, only for Angel Dust to shoot up from his seat with a large grin.

“I would like to hold the baby!” He strolled up to the duo, and Charlie glanced over to Vaggie, before shrugging and carefully holding the little girl towards the demon.

“C’mere, cutie!” Angel Dust beamed, arms outstretched to take the child as she kicked her feet in little baby glee.

“You love your uncle, Angel, dontcha’?” He cooed, lifting the baby with secure hands underneath her armpits, before he leaned in and rubbed noses.

Peaches sneezed, and Angel Dust positioned her to sit in his lap at the bar counter. Husk leaned across to get a better look, before taking a claw and reaching it towards the baby.

Gently, he squished her chubby arm, trailing down towards her hand. Husk didn’t have time to retract his claw, before a tiny hand wrapped around the cat’s finger and refused to let go.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He grumbled as he allowed your daughter to stay latched onto his digit.

You had just made it inside your room, adjusting your appearance one final time as you reached the balcony doors. Grasping the handle, you pull it open to slip outside, the lights from the city illuminating the balcony’s white tiled floor.

You turned your head to search for the fallen angel, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were left to twiddle your thumbs, eyes casting towards the demons strolling the streets down the hill in the neighborhood below.

Lucifer didn’t forget about the date… did he? He was getting much better at being on time, but you still could not help to worry.

“Hey.”

You jumped with a gasp, spinning to face the familiar voice. You had to grip the chair beside you to keep from stumbling in heels, your gaze lifting to meet those familiar, yellow eyes.

Lucifer was perched across from you on the balcony’s thin railing, one pair of his large wings stretched wide, throwing shadows across the tiles beneath your feet. The other two he kept folded at his sides, white against the crimson underbelly of his open wings.

They practically shimmered in the waning light, their shape and color unique to only one kind of being, an angel. Husk’s wings could not compare to the exotic beauty before you, and you struggled to keep eye contact with its owner as you examined the rare sight.

“Lucifer!” You scolded playfully, your eyes tracing across every feather that rustled slightly against the gentle breeze, “You scared me! What are you doing up there?”

“I apologize for the fright,” Lucifer chuckled, rising to his full height as he balanced across like a tightrope, closing the distance between the two of you, “I just thought I’d give you a peek of what tonight has to offer.”

His wings beat softly for balance, before they folded in slightly and the fallen angel lowered himself back to sit on his feet, smiling mischievously as he lowered a hand in a gesture for you to take.

“First, you should take off those heels. They look really nice, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to climb up here with them on.”

You furrowed your brows, suspicion in your gaze as he extended a hand for you to take. What was your darling king planning?

“Why exactly am I climbing onto the railing?” You kicked off your heels, and you shivered at the cold flooring against your skin.

Your bare feet planted on the cool tiles for a few moments, before your fingers laced with Lucifer’s, and he effortlessly lifted you to stand beside him.

“Well,” He started, his fingers brushing up your wrist to grip your forearm, before steadying you with a flap of his wings, “I just thought you wanted a better mode of transportation to our little dinner than walking in those stilettos.”

“And what ‘mode’ are we talking about here?” You turned to him with widening eyes, realization slowly dawning on you.

Lucifer’s grin only widened, and you gulped. He really was serious about taking an evening flight, and you mentally prepared yourself as your gaze lowered to the long drop beneath you. You steeled your gaze towards the fallen angel, who scooted even closer.

“Are you ready?” His honeyed voice whispered in your ear, and you felt like exploding at the feeling of his touch across your waist.

Were you? Never did you guess this was what he had planned, and never did you imagine finding yourself being able to travel with your feet off the ground. Adrenaline began to pump through your veins the longer you stood there in thought.

With one final deep breath, you moved your hands to grip tightly against Lucifer’s dress shirt, and nodded your approval. Lucifer’s hold on your waist tightened, and you screwed your eyes shut just as you felt him pull you forward and off the side of the railing.

The wind whipped past your ears, your eyelids still locked shut as you clamped your mouth shut to keep from screaming. The two of you were falling fast, and for a moment you imagined Lucifer unable to lift in time, and you’d become a splatter against the grass.

Instead, you heard his other two pairs of wings unfurl and spread above you, the thrumming of heavy flaps and the feeling of being lifted once more had you cracking an eye open. The wind whistled its natural tune, and your eyelids fluttered open to see your legs dangling beneath you.

You were very high up, as Lucifer glided across the outskirts of the city, those vibrant, flashing strobe lights that lit up the sky above V Tower passed in a multicolored blur.

You were flying! Free and uncaged from the stress back on the ground, that weightless feeling was something you’ve never experienced all your years in Hell. The adrenaline rush that hit your body had you laughing in the thrill as the fallen angel dipped and rolled. Cars passed below you, and you waved to the pedestrians walking on the streets underneath your feet, if they even noticed your presence.

“Having fun?” Lucifer called from above, and you cocked your head up to meet his playful gaze.

“More than I ever imagined!” You replied, the wind carrying your voice to the king’s ears.

“Good, now hang on!” He laughed, and his wings tightened against his body, causing the two of you to dive with greater speed towards the buildings below.

Your grip on Lucifer’s shirt tightened and he pulled you closer as he sped towards an illuminated rooftop below.

Rather carefully, your feet hit the cold bricks beneath, and Lucifer released his hold around your waist to land beside you. His wings folded against his back, and with a split-second flash of golden light, they completely vanished from his frame.

Lucifer began to walk toward the center of the rooftop, beckoning for you to join. Taking a few steps forward, your eyes follow his path, before widening at the scene.

Powerful magic had transformed the space into a romantic, candle-lit dinner right out of the movies. The string of bulbs that cast warm light across the small, cute table before you held an intimate glow, paired with the soft, classical tune that filled the air.

A single, elegantly shaped candle stands at the center, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across your face. The table was adorned with a lace-trimmed cloth fluttering gently in the breeze. On top, there's an assortment of delectable treats—cheeses, fruits, and a selection of fine chocolates.

The backdrop is breathtaking, with the city spread out below, its lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The distant hum of traffic and city life is a soothing contrast to the quiet rooftop ambiance.

Lucifer only smiles at you, before he pulls a chair slightly from the table and gestures for you to sit. You oblige, settling into the comfortable padded seat as he pushes the chair back in place.

He settled into the seat across from you, and you leaned over the table slightly to take a look at the charcuterie board lined with various cheese, meats, and chips. Your stomach growled, and you plucked a few items from the board and placed them on the white plate sitting before you.

“Is everything to your liking?” Lucifer hummed, as he popped a slice of prosciutto into his mouth, before meeting your gaze.

“This is really nice,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to trace the string of lights that zig-zagged across your head, “I had expected you to just take me to a fancy restaurant, not something like this.”

“I like the atmosphere of places like these much better. Less noisy and more.. personal,” he replied, lifting another meat slice to his lips “I just thought you needed time away from that suffocating little room, the both of us, really.”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, this was very kind of you.”

Lucifer smiled softly, and heat spread across your face at his staring. You took another bite of cheese, and the king’s eyes flicked across the table and his brows furrowed.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” he started, rubbing his chin deep in thought, before his eyes widened as he perked, “That’s right, the wine! Waiter!”

The king snapped his fingers, and you turned your head in confusion. The rooftop was empty, save for the two of you, who could possibl–

Your thoughts were interrupted when footsteps echoed across the gravel, and a figure dressed in a black and white tuxedo strolled forward toward you. It was… another Lucifer, and your mouth dropped slightly at the familiar face, whose curly mustache bounced as he grinned.

A red bottle of wine materialized in the double’s hands, and with a loud pop the cork lid flew across the rooftop. Fizz spilled from the bottle for a few moments as the waiter stopped beside you. Lowering the bottom, he poured the empty glass in front of you to the brim, before standing straight once more.

“For you, ma chérie,” Lucifer #2 spoke with a perfect French accent, before bowing respectfully to you.

He sent you a playful wink as he slid over to your Lucifer’s side, and lowered the wine bottle. Lucifer watched his glass fill, before shooing away his double, who backed away from the table and vanished into the shadows.

You lift the wine glass to your lips, taking a long sip of the dark red liquor. Its rich, apple flavor danced on your tongue as warmth bloomed from your stomach.

“This is amazing! When you were talking about good wine, I didn’t think you meant this good,” you beamed, that buzz already tingling in your brain as you took another sip.

“An old recipe that’s been sitting in my cellar for, well… a few thousand years by now,” Lucifer swirled the wine in his glass, before lifting it to his lips.

As you nibble on the delicate offerings, conversation flows effortlessly between you both. The topics range from silly memories and active interests, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Lucifer's eyes hold a warmth and depth that matches the glow of the candle, his demeanor a mix of confidence and vulnerability, as he shares with you details of his past.

Time seems to stand still as you savor each other's company, the burdens upon your shoulders vanishing for the moment, as you keep your gaze fixed on the gorgeous face across from you. The night feels infinite, filled with promise and the simple joy of being together.

Unfortunately, time passed much quicker than you hoped, as the sky above was blanketed in darkness at the late hour. Even with the giddy buzz from the wine, exhaustion was still creeping up your spine, and your eyelids were growing heavy.

Lucifer and you both stood at the same time, and when the king joined you at one end of the table, he lifted a hand toward you. It was a gesture for you to take, and when your eyes lowered, you found that the golden band usually around his finger was nowhere in sight.

Your eyes widened, and something stirred inside you. You didn’t waste any time in reaching forward and lacing your fingers with his, his touch soft and warmth bloomed from his fingertips.

What now? Should you just lean over and kiss him? No, not on the first date, that’s silly! It must have been the buzz of the wine making all those intrusive thoughts seem very logical as you locked eyes with the king for a few moments.

But… was it really the first date? Sure, you had never spent time together so.. intimately before, but he was there for you a lot during your pregnancy. Helped you cook, filled your day with entertainment, and cared for your health, all he did by choice.

Which is why you felt so weird asking for his help now, he had already done so much, any more and you’d feel utterly… useless.

It seemed like Lucifer wanted to say something, his brows furrowed slightly, lips moving as if he was just moments from speaking. He held his tongue though, sighing softly in the breeze as he turned his head towards the vibrant cityscape.

You followed his gaze, glimpsing the large, digital billboards a few streets away depicting lude models and VoxTek advertisements.

“Are you sure you’re doing okay, with the baby and everything? You know you can always ask me for help, right?” Lucifer's words caught you off guard, and your head turned to meet his gaze.

Was he catching onto how much you were really struggling? You bit your lip, mind racing. You had tried so hard to seem normal, but the truth was, you felt like a different person after your baby. These emotions that refuse to leave you in peace were only creating a deeper divide between you and everyone else.

Your daughter was beautiful, and you loved her so much. But, she was still a mentally draining, constantly hungry being that begged for your attention 24/7 in the form of harsh, deafening wails. It seemed to be improving, hopefully.

“I think so,” you answered honestly, using your free hand to rub your shoulder soothingly, “It was tough for a while, but I think whatever has been bothering her is going away. Everything should be much smoother from here on out.”

Lucifer looked at you for another moment, as if he was finding it hard to believe you. He didn’t press further, instead giving your hand a supportive squeeze before tugging

“Ready for round two?” He smiled, his wings unfurling from behind his back as stepped onto the edge of the roof beside him.

You only laughed as he pulled you close to him and the two of you fell off the side of the building. Lucifer’s wings stretched wide as they lifted the two of you towards the sky, your worries in the wind once more.

You should have knocked on wood when you told Lucifer your daughter’s crying fits were improving, because only a few days later, it was quite the opposite. Peaches has been overcome with another intense round of colic, and her screams bounced across the bedroom as you rocked her gently in your arms.

You had spent the past hour trying to soothe her cries, to no avail. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted a binkie towards her mouth, it took a few moments for the little girl to even notice her outburst, before she clamped her mouth around it and began to suckle.

Her crying turned to whimpers, which soon faded into sniffles as she suckled on the pacifier. You exhaled a sigh of relief, as you slowly lowered her into the red bassinet beside you. Carefully, you positioned her comfortably on the plush bedding, placing a small blanket snugly around her toes to keep her from waking from the cold, before you straightened again.

What could she possibly be feeling that you were unable to help her through? You weren’t telepathic, and the mystery was only driving you mad.

You needed fresh air, and your daughter’s wails were finally silenced long enough to be able to disappear for a few minutes and recollect yourself. With caution, you took quiet steps across the room towards the balcony doorways that were concealed behind dark red curtains. Slowly, you reached through the thick fabric to grasp at the handle, before pulling it open just a crack to slip through.

The door closed softly behind you with a barely audible click, and that large breath held in your lungs finally expelled with a heavy sigh, heavy with emotions you so desperately wanted to release from your mind in any way possible. If it meant collapsing to the ground and flooding the balcony with the outpour of unsung frustrations.

You felt so useless. Your daughter was in some kind of misery, and the effects of the constant jump to tears were starting to take a noticeable effect on the infant. She just seemed so tired, practically pleading for you to end whatever misery she could possibly be facing.

You were at your wit's end, and you stared out into the distance, your breath quickening as tears threatened to fall. You just needed some time alone, time to think, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to ask for hel–

“Boo!” A sudden voice near your ear pulled you back into reality, and your heart slammed into your chest.

This time you screamed, your back hitting the railing as you quickly pivoted to find Lucifer, perched atop the railing once more. His wings were gone now, and his smile was wide as he landed on the tile next to you.

“Ha! I got you good, didn’t I?” Lucifer laughed, and you tensed at the volume.

“Shhh!” You hissed, placing a finger to your lips and Lucifer froze.

“Sorry…” He grimaced, glancing at the glass doorway before taking a step closer toward you, "is she asleep?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to settle down all day… she’s been really fussy and it’s been hard,” you sighed, turning your head slightly to hide the emotion building on your face.

“Oh, I had no idea. I just swung by to ask you something, but I see you're a little preoccupied at the moment,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, concern written across his features at your glistening eyes and quivering frown.

You were having trouble containing all the horrible things you were feeling, and your body began to react to the pressure that was threatening to burst inside of you. Inhaling a shaking breath, you crossed your arms and held them close to your chest, your heart beating rapidly.

“Hey... are you okay?” You felt a hand softly grasp your forearm, and that warm touch was what had you coming undone before the king.

Tears poured down your cheeks, your body shaking with sobs as you slammed a hand over your mouth to hold back the anguished, raw sounds that were begging to be set free.

You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a really long time. The weight of your emotions crashed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its depth.

You felt a hand soothingly rub circles into your back, another one on your forearm as the king tried his best to show his support through silent gestures. You choked back another sob, straightening in embarrassment and you regained control of your composure.

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, face twisting as you tried to compose yourself, “I’m trying to be a good mother, but it must be obvious how terrible of one I am.”

“What? Don’t say that!” Lucifer shook his head quickly, lips curving into a nervous smile as he spoke, “You’re doing a great job, nobody thinks otherwise.”

“I’m sure,” you replied bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Times like these can be really hard, I understand how you fee–”

“You don’t, though!” You snapped, lifting a hand to harshly rub your face free of the river running down your cheeks.

“Okay, maybe that's true, but I'm just worried about you, you’ve been—!”

Crying erupted from behind the door, and Lucifer’s mouth clamped shut at the sudden interruption. You jumped at the noise, one hand quickly reaching backward to grasp at the doorknob.

“I’m sorry, she’s crying again and I need to go. If you want to help so badly, come back another time!” the words spilled from your lips in a single breath, and your body moved past the threshold of the doorway as you turned away from the fallen angel.

“Wait! Please let me-!”

The door locked into place, ceasing the desperate words from the other side. You couldn’t bear to listen any longer, embarrassed by your childish outburst of emotions.

Resting your forehead against the wooden surface, you squeezed your eyes shut, collecting yourself. Your daughter screamed for you across the room, only intensifying the ringing in your ears and pushing the tears to spill faster down your cheeks.

You saw Lucifer’s shadow behind the curtains for a few moments longer, before his silhouette backed away and disappeared over the railing. You rubbed a hand across your face as your daughter screamed, growling at yourself before you stalked towards the crib.

It had only been a few days later, when you heard your daughter's whimpers begin from across the room in her red bassinet sometime in the very early morning hours. You groaned, so comfortable in your nest of pillows and weighted blankets to heed her noisy demands.

You were exhausted, and for once there had been hope that you’d catch a few more hours before having to awake. Peaches wasn’t crying, though, not like her usual wails. You were still in the clutches of sleep, and your consciousness was drifting in and out, and the sounds around you were dampened by the dreamy state.

Then, something else joined the soft whimpers, a faint voice that had you stirring awake with heavy eyelids and sliding the plush covers from your figure. A rich, melodious tone hit your ears, delicate and soothing in the night.

It sounded… like a violin. It was hauntingly beautiful, a lone siren in the stillness as it lulled your daughter into a deep sleep.

You lifted yourself from the warmth of the sheets, the cold air kissing your bare skin as you slid to the edge of your bed, eyes squinted to see through the darkness towards the corner. In the maroon lighting that escaped through a slit between the curtains of the balcony doors, you could make out some shadowed figure hunched slightly above the crib, your view limited by the small dining table in between you and the stranger.

Quietly, you slid over to the edge of the bed, before planting your feet softly against the plush rug underneath. You took careful steps as you snuck around the table in the center of your room, the music growing louder as you neared the bassinet.

Slowly, you peeked from behind the dining chair, your gaze followed the dappled, red light from the curtains, as they lit the features of a familiar, pearlescent skin with a ruby-like glow.

Lucifer.

His movements were graceful, like a swan, as he slid the bow across the strings, which glowed a subtle golden light as the heavenly melody left the instrument and filled your body with awe. His gaze fixed on the tiny figure nestled inside the crib, his features concentrated as he continued to play.

You only watched, silent as the lullaby began to damper, and the bow’s movements slowed. Soon, the music ceased, and Lucifer lowered the bow to his lap as he took a seat on a sofa behind him wearing a satisfied expression. Your heart swelled with emotion at the realization of the love behind his actions, and you took another step forward.

“Lucifer?”

The king jumped at your voice, his fingers tightening around the instrument in his hold as he slowly turned his head with a large, innocent grin.

“Heyyyyy,” Lucifer replied awkwardly, lowering the violin from his shoulder, and setting it down onto the cushion beside him.

The fallen angel met your gaze once more with an apologetic smile, rubbing his neck uneasily. He was trying to quiet without waking you, which he did the opposite, and it was rather awkward with his intrusion to soothe your daughter. You quietly moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you he chuckled nervously.

“I’m sorry for not announcing my presence, you told me to come back another time, then I just heard her crying and–”

Lucifer’s words caught in his throat, pupils dilating as your fingers came up to slowly brush across his chin, before settling to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb softly grazed across those red cheeks of his, and the tension in the fallen angel’s limbs subsided at your caring touch.

You didn’t know what had come upon you, but the craving to be close to this pure-intentioned being, in a literal and figurative sense, outweighed any thoughts of keeping your feelings at bay anymore.

“Why are you so good to me?” You whispered, lips beginning to quiver.

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he melted in your palm. Warmth spread across your fingers, easing the ache in your muscles and deep in your bones, as euphoria overcame you.

“Because you’re one of the only good things left in my life,” he replied, his voice tight with emotion, as if he was choking back tears, “You, Charlie, and…”

Lucifer trailed off as his eyes lowered to your sleeping daughter, adoration in his gaze. It was pure love, the kind that lasted for an eternity. Your heart swelled at that, and lifting a hand to his other cheek, you cupped his face and smiled warmly.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me? Well–ha–I don’t find anything wrong with tha–” Lucifer’s stammered reply was cut off once more as you pulled him forward into your embrace.

You pressed your lips to his, they were warm and soft, and you drank in the sweetness of Lucifer’s aroma, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip. You felt his hands slide to your waist, before grasping gently and pulling you flush against his chest.

Lucifer leaned backward slowly, his back hitting the support of the sofa and you shifted to fully rest against him, your lips moving to delicately graze across his chin, and you felt his heart quicken at the touch.

Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as your lips traced along his jawline, you lingered for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. His hands, still at your waist, tightened ever so slightly. The softness of his lips beckoned, and you closed the remaining distance, meeting in a tender, lingering kiss.

Your eyelids were heavy, and you slowly broke the kiss and let your head fall into the warmth of the fallen angel's chest, tightening your hold around him and snuggling closer.

“Thank you, for putting her to sleep,” you murmured into Lucifer’s shirt, before feeling claws slide up to your back, caressing the area softly as he hummed a reply.

The two of you embraced silently, lost in the intimacy as you listened to the gentle thrum of his heart, and he continued drawing circles in your back with pleasurable movements. You felt yourself drifting into slumber once more, and your breath slowed as you heeded your body’s exhausted demands.

“You should come stay at my manor,” Lucifer whispered above you, his chin resting gently against the top of your head.

Your eyelids fluttered open at that, sleep in the back of your mind at his words as you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a raised, disbelieving brow.

“What?”

Lucifer’s lips tightened, and his eyes bounced across the room as he struggled to formulate a response.

“Well, I–I mean, it would be a lot better than staying here, right? I could hire you as my… private chef! That way, you would make your own money to support yourself. You could even have a whole wing of the manor if you wanted, also a big nursery, a private kitchen, and a master bedroom as big as this entire living space!”

Your mouth opened slightly, head spinning. Live in the same house as Lucifer? The royal manor to call home? Probably the most luxurious and non-hellish place to exist in all the seven rings? He sounded completely serious, and you never expected him to make such a bold offer. You’d also be able to support yourself independently by working as Lucifer’s ‘private chef’, save for the free room and board.

“And, of course, you get to permit who comes and goes in that area, so if you wanted to keep everyone, including me, out…you could do that, too.”

Lucifer’s tone sank slightly as those words left his lips, and your brows furrowed in thought.

“We’ll you give me time to think about it?” You asked slowly.

“Of course!” Lucifer nodded with a satisfied smile, content you were even considering his sudden proposition, “Take all the time you need.”

The two of you fell back into comfortable silence, and stayed locked in an embrace for the rest of the morning, and the crimson light peeking through the curtains began to lighten with the coming dawn. Even as you drifted into sleep, Lucifer’s words lingered in your mind as you slipped from consciousness.

They continued to linger the following evening, as you spilled your heart out to Angel Dust at the bar, your face in your hands as you recalled verbatim. He sipped from his glass of alcohol, lips set in thought as he listened intently.

Out of everyone in the hotel, you didn’t know why you went to Angel for advice, especially in dealing with romance, but you told him everything nonetheless. About going to live with Lucifer, all the help he’s been to you thus far, and the encounter with him earlier. You even gave him a brief glimpse into the… physical intimacy the two of you also had shared earlier.

“I think ya should do it,” Angel Dust said after a few moments of silence, downing the remaining liquor in his glass, before turning to you. You lifted your head from your hands, you met his gaze with surprise written across your features.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, placing one hand supportively on your shoulder as he continued, “Now I ain’t tryna be mean to ya, but… the hotel was a great place for you before the baby, but with our track record with keeping this place from being attacked by thugs and angels, it mayyy not be so good for the actual baby. Ya get me?”

You took a sip of the water in front of you, nodding slowly as the answer you had been searching for finally settled on your shoulders. You turned to face the spider demon, your lips curving into a small frown and he tilted his head at you.

“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you murmured, rubbing your hands together self-soothing.

“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry, toots! C’mere!,” Angel Dust wrapped all four arms around you, and you returned the embrace with a tight grip.

And wow, his fuzz was soft. You finally understood the appeal as you held your friend close. Even though in retrospect you had only known the porn star for a short amount of time, the bond you shared was heartwarming and kind. One of the few relationships of Angel’s that didn’t devolve into debauchery and drugs.

Two hours later, you stood in front of Charlie, hands once again rubbing together in an attempt to soothe the nerves that were making it difficult to hold eye contact with the princess as you filled her in on the decision regarding your future. You planned to move into the manor, and raise the baby in a place that most resembled a home, instead of growing up in a hotel room.

“You’re going to go live with my dad?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed at your words.

You tensed. Was she apprehensive of the idea?

“Yes, but it’s nothing crazy like I’m getting with your dad or anything… haha.. yeah,” you trailed off, because you were feeling like that may turn out to be untrue sooner than later.

At least, you hoped they did. For now, it was just something along the lines of roommates, even with how silly that sounded in your head.

“Well…” She began, rubbing her chin in thought, and sweat beaded down your forehead as she continued, “I think… it's a wonderful idea! I really enjoyed growing up there, and I’m sure your daughter would too!”

Phew. You exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body and your shoulders relaxed.

With Charlie’s blessing, it was all you needed to give Lucifer the news. He practically jumped for joy as you gave him your answer, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I have to baby-proof the whole place beforehand!” he had proclaimed, racing around the makeshift room he had been staying in the past few days as he grabbed his cane.

“She won’t even be able to crawl for a while longer,” you had laughed with a raised brow.

“I can’t afford anything less than perfect,” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his coat and hat to get everything ready as soon as possible, “Don’t worry, I’ve got the power of creation, remember? It’ll only be a jiffy.”

The king had literally exploded into a burst of confetti, a sizzle of magic zapping him out of the room and away to the manor. You had blinked, the colored paper mache settling on your shoulders as you turned towards the hallway.

It seemed like the only thing that was left was to start packing, and so away you worked for the next few hours.

Peaches was swaddled tightly against your chest in a makeshift baby wrap, made from a sheet of fabric that held her close and secure to you while you placed clothes and other items into organized boxes.

Lucifer had been back in a jiffy, appearing at your door right as you finished stuffing everything away into storage. It took a snap of his finger for all of your things to go poof in a cloud of red smoke, and the king had summoned a limo to take the three of you back to the manor, since traveling with magic was risky with an infant.

You had stood on the front steps of the hotel, trying to contain the tears as you wished farewell to your friends. They watched you leave with furrowed brows, and Charlie had even sniffled once as you and your daughter climbed into the white vehicle.

“Come by and visit us sometime!” Charlie called as the limo pulled off from the curve and you leaned out the window for a final wave as the hotel disappeared from view.

When you arrived at that glittering, white, and gold royal home, you were met with tall, imposing statues depicting regal figures from centuries past, their stony gazes fixed upon the entrance. As the limo pulled up to the front steps, you noticed the large gardens surrounding the manor, each flower seemingly in perfect bloom despite the season. Fountains sprayed later spouts of water up in the air, before cascading down into glittering pools.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Lucifer had smiled as you took your tour around the premises, examining the once-neatly trimmed bushes that lined the place.

There were no imp servants, or attendees at all really, which explained why the place was beginning to look overgrown by the hellish flora. Large red vines climbed up the manor’s side, a few even weaved across large panes of glass, windows that would have once offered a beautiful sight.

It appeared the current homeowner was not doing a very good job maintaining the place, and you weren’t going to let this place rot any longer. You’d have to add landscaping to the job description when you felt good enough to do such heavy tasks.

Right as you stepped through those large, golden doors, you were greeted with crystal chandeliers that illuminated a giant corridor. Plush, red carpet met your feet as you a few more steps inside, your eyes tracing over the array of paintings and sculptures lining the walls, along with a few family portraits and other elegant decor.

It was clear that the interior was designed by the women of the house, the lack of circus decor even prevalent inside the Hazbin Hotel was nowhere in sight. As you followed Lucifer down the hallway, you guessed his withdrawals had given him no strength to change the house to his liking. You stepped through a tall, open doorway into what seemed to be a parlor.

Lucifer paused, turning to you with a warm smile as you joined him with your daughter in your arms inside the living space. You took in the sight of velvet couches circling a large fireplace and a small bar snug against the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining the racks behind the counter.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice soft as he turned. Peaches cooed softly, seemingly content in the entrancing, shiny surroundings. You followed Lucifer down another large corridor, and he began to give a proper tour of the residency.

You didn’t realize how big this place really was until he showed you the third parlor in the house. This one had more tables, seemingly for dining primarily, but with a similar fireplace nestled in one of the walls near two, red armchairs.

When Lucifer said you’d have large, private areas, you assumed he was just being generous and giving you some of his dwellings. Now, you knew that wasn’t the case, as there was definitely enough for the both of you between three large bathrooms, five bedrooms, and two dining rooms.

It took a few days to settle in, as Lucifer helped you unpack your things with easy magic and you found renewed energy in making the nursery perfect for your daughter.

It was clear, from day one, that the two of you were going to be just roommates, when you found yourself stealing kick kisses from him as you organized the nursery, or when his hand found your waist as you rocked Peaches to sleep in your arms some days. Some nights, you found yourself playfully bantering with the fallen angel in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in your hands as gentle music played in the back.

Lucifer’s presence and companionship seemed to be what you needed for your emotions to begin to stabilize, along with the fact that you had practically an entire mansion to yourself, instead of sharing the living areas with a large group of demons like back at the hotel.

The king wasn’t holed up in his home all the time anymore, as he joined his daughter in promoting the hotel and actually making an effort to go to a meeting here and there. He had a purpose now, and you noticed that subtle ethereal radiance that lined his figure began to glow brighter with each passing day.

Lucifer’s social battery was still adjusting to the changes in his daily routines, and some nights he’d return with heavy eyelids and sluggish steps, as if he had returned from a battle against Heaven.

You had been sitting in the front parlor one cozy night, a book in your hand as you waited for the king’s return. He usually wasn’t gone so long, and the dinner you had made had gone cold, so all there was to do was sit around and wait.

Your daughter’s colic seemed to have tapered off by now, as it has already been a few weeks since you arrived at the manor. This was a relief, and you found yourself sleeping much longer, your energy and patience naturally returning.

That fear of being useless began to dissipate, now that you were able to enjoy time in the kitchen, testing out new receipts for Lucifer as his chef. He paid you very handsomely, even though you rarely did cook as you recovered from postpartum and kept busy with the baby.

You didn’t complain though, it was nice to see a paycheck that could actually cover all your groceries and bills, if you actually paid any of the bills around here... did Lucifer even have bills?

Your thoughts were cut off when the sound of heeled boots thumped across the corridor right outside the room, and the book in your hands lowered to the coffee table in front of you.

Lucifer kicked off his boots at the door to the parlor, his hooves meeting the carpet as they dragged towards the couch you were lazing on. His blonde was hair disheveled, and some of the gold buttons on his vest were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of what lay below his collarbone.

He looked exhausted, his eyes tiredly frog-blinking as he fell against the cushions beside you, before exhaling a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Rough day?” You whispered softly, and he turned his head slightly to face you.

“Just.. a lot,” was Lucifer’s response, his eyelids fluttering close for a few moments as he drank in the warmth from the crackling fire nearby.

You watched the fallen angel for a few more moments, his breath rising and falling slowly as he relaxed. His skin practically glowed against the soft colors thrown across the room from the dancing flames. A thought crossed your mind, and hesitantly, you reached a hand to Lucifer’s shoulder.

You felt him tense slightly from your touch, before relaxing slowly as you gripped his shoulder and forearm and began tugging him to lay down against you. He turned his head, raising a brow as he began to lean against you.

“Come here,” you smiled warmly, as you pulled him to fall over against you.

Lucifer’s head softly landed on your lap, his face upturned towards the ceiling as you smiled down at him. He watched the orange light reflect against your skin, enhancing your already perfect features.

You lifted a hand towards his face, before you began to gently brush your fingers through his hair. Your nails grazed against the king’s scalp and a satisfied sigh left his lips. A hum reached his ears, as you quietly filled the room, with the soft tune.

Something stirred inside the king, and emotions began bubbling up into his throat, and he could barely contain them as his lips parted.

“Can I tell you something?” Lucifer whispered after a moment.

“Of course,” you nodded, tilting your head down to him.

“I think… that I’m in love with you.”

Those words had your hands stilling against his scalp, and your breath hitched.

Lucifer in love with you?

Oh, the joy you felt, at finally hearing those words you only had dreamed of for so long. Your grin spreading ear to ear as heat crept across your cheeks.

“Oh, you silly man,” you laughed softly down to the nervous face in your lap, before you gripped Lucifer by the collar and pulled him up from your lap.

You leaned down and pressed your lips softly to his, and the king rose the rest of the way on his own. He pulled you against him, as his back hit the cushions and you pivoted to straddle him as the kiss deepened.

Lucifer’s arms were snaked around your waist, and your hands cupped both sides of his face as the two of you were lost in this intimate, quiet moment of affection finally revealed.

Time flew by fast after that, once your daily routines began to settle into place. Lucifer began to step in more in raising the baby, and sometimes you’d find your daughter in his arms, and a sweet, soothing tune coming from his lips.

You’d stand there, leaning against the nursery doorway as you watched with a warm smile. Peaches was beginning to like–no, love him. You could tell when she started to let him dress her up without her usual stink eye. She was now able to sit up and speak in her own, unique form of baby talk.

“Stop moving,” You had heard Lucifer laugh one day from inside the large bedroom, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”

A string of incomprehensible sounds followed, high-pitched babbling from the tiny figure in response.

“Hey, don’t give me attitude, missy!” You heard playful chastising from the king, and you turned into the doorway to see his back towards you, as he kneeled over your daughter.

Her tiny legs kicked in protest as he wrangled something onto her, and you took a few steps into the room before announcing your presence.

“Lucifer…?” You started, nearing the bed.

He jumped at your voice, before pivoting to face you with an innocent smile. Your daughter was visible now, some kind of bright yellow fabric around her head and hugging the rest of her body.

“Hey! Don’t mind us, we're just testing something!” Lucifer’s smile widened.

“Testing what?” You asked with a smile.

Lucifer’s smile turned playful as he turned back to your daughter and lifted her towards you, and your eyes widened.

Peaches was dressed in a fuzzy, yellow duck onesie. Its head was designed into a hood that was pulled over her head, the orange beaking sticking out and resting slightly on her forehead. She babbled something incoherent with an open, gummed smile, something probably along the lines of ‘Look! Don’t I look so gosh darn cute?’

“I pulled out some of Charlie’s baby clothes from storage, and funny enough they fit Peaches just fine,” Lucifer continued, placing his cheek against your daughter’s and rubbing it affectionately with puckered lips, “She is so adowable in her wittle onesie, huh?”

“Yes, she is!” You cooed, leaning forward to pinch one of her cheeks with a grin.

The three of you were beginning to turn into a proper family, and it became obvious when Lucifer started making breakfast for the three of you in the early mornings, despite paying you for such tasks.

“You know that's my job, right?” You quirked a brow as Lucifer stood in front of the stone, flipping large, fluffy pancakes in a pan, before placing them upon a steaming pile of deliciousness.

“You have days off, don’t you?” He hummed in response, turning off the stove and sliding the plate into his hands, “Will you grab the syrup for me, please?”

You opened the cupboards nearby, grabbing the large bottle of syrup as you followed him toward the dining area, your daughter playing with a rattle on the floor near the long table. She was able to crawl now, a speedy little demon that took off as soon as you turned the other way.

Luckily, Lucifer had baby gates to help with that, and now she was easily confined into any room for fear of escaping. Her tiny stomach growled and she lifted her gaze from the toy as you and Lucifer stepped over the gate.

Peaches squealed with happiness, and began to crawl towards you, her hands plapping against the tile as she moved. She slowed right next to the last dining chair at the table, before her head lifted to examine it for a moment.

Your daughter began to lift herself onto two feet as she gripped the dining chair’s leg. She was getting good at standing by herself, but she had never managed to successfully step forward and not flop back onto her butt.

You set the syrup on the dining table, ignoring her movements as first as you helped set the table. It wasn’t until you turned to place her into the high chair, did you watch your daughter’s foot begin to lift.

Peaches took one step forward, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain balance. Your mouth dropped, and your arm reached out to grip the back of Lucifer’s shirt and tug him beside you.

“What’s going on, why are yo–” Lucifer froze beside you, as your daughter lifted the other foot and took another wobbly step forward.

She had never remained on two feet for this long, and she didn’t look like she was stopping yet. Lucifer quickly lowered onto his knees, and you joined him as he stretched out his arms.

“Peaches, come on!” He called to the little girl, who was only a foot away from the two as she smiled at the fallen angel and took another step closer.

You joined him, cheering for your daughter as she took another step, and another, and then she reached out her little arms towards the two of you. She took the final step, before she lost total balance and fell forward.

The both of you jumped forward and embraced Peaches at once, the three of you in a tight huddle of affection as your daughter giggled against your chest.

You peppered kisses against her forehead, tears pricking at your eyes as you lifted them to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes were glistening as well, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, your smile large and brilliant.

It was clear now, that your little family had grown to include another, and you were so thrilled it was Lucifer. Your ex, and the fears that came with his betrayal began to dissipate from your mind, and a tear rolled down your cheek in happiness.

From that day on, you promised to make sure that your little girl would always have a father in her life, although it seems like you’ve already found the one who would cherish her for the rest of eternity.

“Psst, Mom!”

You grumbled incoherently, still in the clutches of sleep as the voice rudely interrupted the nice dream you had been having in the early hours of the morning.

“Moooooommmm, wake up!”

You stirred awake at the voice hissing in your ear, your eyes fluttering open inside the dark master bedroom of the manor. Someone was standing right in front of you, a short figure tapping her foot impatiently as you lifted your head from the pillows.

The room was still covered in blackness, the morning light unable to escape through the blackout curtains blanketing the large bedroom. You could see the outline of a small figure in the shadows at the edge of your bed, illuminated by the open doorway behind her.

“What is it, baby?” You rubbed your tired eyes, turning to face your daughter.

Peaches was much older now, the name long outgrown her as she aged from toddler, to child, to girl. She resembled a nine year old now, that cute baby fat gone from her limbs, and her chubby little cheeks beginning to sharpen into gorgeous features.

“Can I go with Charlie to the mall? She said she’ll pick me up in an hour if that’s okay.”

Charlie and your daughter had been doing everything together lately, which you guessed was because of the older woman’s joy in having a little sister she could take under her wing. They may not be related by blood, but nobody could tell the difference with the bond those two shared.

Peaches often assisted her at the now-bustling hotel, learning how to best help the inhabitants of Hell through the teachings of her sisterly figure.

“Sure, tell Charlie I said hi,” you nodded with a smile, and your daughter bounced giddily on her toes.

“Yay! Thank you, mom!” She lowered her face down to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arms around your neck for a tight hug before backing away, “I Love you, see you later!”

You watched her rush out of the room with a slip in her step, the door closing softly behind her.

“What was all that about?” A voice tiredly mumbled beside you, and warm arms snaked around your waist.

You laid your head back against the pillow, repositioning your body to face toward the naked figure beside you.

“She just wanted to go out and have some fun with Charlie,” you replied to the tired, pearly face before you, his blonde hair disheveled around him as he blinked the sleep away with a yawn.

“Those two are like glue, nowadays,” your husband, Lucifer, yawned, pulling you flush against his bare chest in one smooth motion.

You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck, placing wet kisses across his skin, earning a pleasurable noise from his throat.

“Should we get up and make some breakfast?” You asked into his skin.

“Five more minutes,” you heard him mutter, as he rubbed his cheek against yours affectionately.

That gives me five more minutes to think about how lucky I am to have you by my side.

“Okay,” you smiled softly, placing a loving kiss against his forehead before snuggling closer, “Five more minutes.”

woah lots of emotions in this one, good thing everything worked out in the end, eh? the art was done by indxlulu over on twt, go check out some of their other work!

what did you think? let me know! <3

tags 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @xoxohugslove @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x mama!reader #lucifer morningstar x momma!reader

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luvknow · 2 days

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after her | yang jeongin

summary: a lonely yang jeongin, fresh from a break-up, finds what it means to be happy again while living with his best friend in the big city. you fall victim to his signs of affections, struggling to define if he’s emptying what’s leftover from his relationship or if they’re truly meant for you. you’d live through the endless heartache if it meant he would smile again. characters: female reader x yang jeongin & stray kids ensemble. genre: romance, friends-to-lovers, hurt with comfort, happy ending. additional warnings: alcohol consumption, university party, some mature dialogue and situations, song lyrics. wc: 11.2k

Jeongin placed the last of his boxes in the living room of his new place you two shared. While you were away at work, he employed an off-duty Minho and Jisung with promises of pizza and beer as payment.

A low whistle escaped Jisung’s lips as his eyes scanned the condo. “Pretty decent for the price in the middle of the city.”

Jeongin wiped the sweat off his brows. “It helps that _____ is a functioning adult.”

“You’ll get there in a couple of months,” Minho patted his head. “Relax while you can before your job starts. The adult world is not kind.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Jisung shrugged. “Find a hobby. Adopt a pet. Read a book. Don’t worry about anything! What more can a bachelor want?”

“Go to the club, hop on a dating app,” Minho suggested before Jisung hit him.

The first box Jeongin opened was one he wasn’t supposed to. On top, it wasn’t labeled, but on the side in big bold letters was, ‘TRASH. BURN. DONATE. WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT OPEN!!!!!’ On the top layer of stuff was a framed picture of him and his ex-girlfriend under the cherry blossom trees, her eyes curled like sparkling moon crescents and him looking at her like she was his whole world. Beneath were various memorabilia from blind box trinkets to old sweaters of his that still smelled like her perfume. As his heart cracked a bit more, he flopped on the couch face-first, groaning muffled by your decorative pillows.

Minho hit Jisung back. “I told you not to bring that one in!”

“He took it from me before I knew what box it was!”

The two were left unloading the Rent-a-Truck alone as their youngest friend tried to not let too many tears ruin the fabric of the couch. They’d give him a pass this time, but the next warranted multiple rounds of drinks. Jeongin’s energy bled from his body and was absorbed into the cushions, gluing his cheek down until a permanent imprint of the weaved fabric formed on his skin. His eyes stared blankly at the door after his personal mover-bros left and until you walked in, home from a long day of work. A total of six hours where he didn’t move, barely breathing, hoping evolution would kick in and he’d be able to live his life photosynthesizing.

You smiled sympathetically at the damage before you; a pile of boxes, untouched take-out, and an unmoving boy with redness around his eyes that stared off into nothingness.

“Hey, bud,” you began awkwardly. “How’re ya doin’?”

You received a lazy groan in response. He turned over to face the back of the couch, unwilling to elaborate further.

Jeongin called you last Sunday at 2:13 AM. Your first feeling was irritated, as he had better be in some deep shit to be waking you up at this hour on a work night. What you got was worse. Way worse. In a fit of tired, breathless, chest-squeezing sobs and snot-filled sniffles, Jeongin confessed that his girlfriend of just over a year had broken up with him. It was a shitty time to do so, as he was in the middle of signing for a lease after she begged him to move to the city to be closer to her. Luckily, the leasing agency was sympathetic and he went forward with canceling the signing.

The conversation that led him here in your home occurred after he was able to breathe through his tears, wondering what he was supposed to do with his new job contract, and it went like this:

“You’re already mentally prepared to move to the city. Why not do it anyway?”

“What’s the point?” he had asked with a voice so tired of crying. “There’s no reason for me to be there anymore.”

“I’m here,” you replied, offended. “You get to hang out with the most important person in your entire life -”

“By default.”

“I’m going to give you a pass on that because you’re hurting, but you called me, remember?” you had scoffed. “The city will be good for you. Better food, better drinks, things to do, people to meet. Things to distract you, y’know?”

“I can’t do this alone.” There was a long pause before the sniffling and sobs filled the silence on the other end. “If I live alone, I might never leave my apartment.”

Without hesitation, you had said, “Come live with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Come live here with me! We’ll turn my office into your bedroom, and voila; casa de _____ and Jeongin.”

“I can’t do that to you. You worked so hard for that place to be your haven.”

“You are my haven,” you had emphasized. “Let me be yours, too.”

A short chuckle on his end. “Cornball.”

Progress was far from linear and the hardest point was ascending from zero. Jeongin was in the negatives. Probably because he had opened a box full of outdated signs of love he and Sieun had given each other the past year and two months. Your face wrinkled in disgust at the sight of her glowing face in a heart-shaped frame. And Jeongin had called you the cornball… Maybe you were a certified hater, but you had to get rid of this box of trash now.

When you bent to pick it up, he gripped your wrist and stopped you.

“Don’t,” he muffled into the pillows.

“Keeping this isn’t good for you.”

“Neither will throwing it away.”

“How about we compromise,” you sighed. “Let’s store it in my closet until you’re ready to toss it. Out of sight, out of mind.”

His answer was letting go of you and allowing you to touch the most tender parts of his heart to store away in your dark, cold, lifeless but stylish closet for it to wither away. You didn’t want any parts of her near your room at all, but you kept muttering, ‘This is for Jeongin. This is for him because you love him, for some reason,’ as a reminder.

You’d repeat that reminder maybe ten times a day for the past week for stupid shit like him not washing his dishes, not putting the toilet seat down, drinking all your specialty alcoholic beverages you liked to save for after-work woes, but what pushed you over the edge was the empty stash of your favorite snack.

“Ok, I’m done!” you yelled. After a long day of Teams meetings and smiling at sleazy men twice your age, all you wanted was a little treat! A little snack! But when you opened your pantry, you were left with an empty box. He couldn’t even throw the damn box away!

You opened the door to his room where he sat in his gaming chair, yelling at his bros on Discord. He paid no mind to the noise, since his gaudy headphones blocked everything and likely bruised his eardrums. So when he couldn’t hear you calling his name, you went up to the microphone.

“Sorry, boys, Jeongin has some chores to do!” You heard a muffle of ‘boos’ from Chan and Felix on the other end before unplugging his set-up.

“What the hell, _____! That was a ranked game!” he whined.

“You!” you seethed, grabbing the remnants of your snack bags before chucking the empty box at his face. “You gluttonous squirrel-faced stupid, stupid boy!”

“Ooh, yikes. I know that tone.”

“You couldn’t bother texting me that we were out?!”

“They’re just snacks, we can buy more.”

“We, who!? Who’s paying the mortgage here? Who’s the one with an actual job at the moment?!”

“I start next month, ok?! And you agreed to a prorated rent because of that!”

“Being jobless doesn’t give you the right to live in my home like a slob! There are responsibilities for adulthood! There are chores and rules for living under my roof!”

Jeongin had this stupid face he’d put on to get whatever he wanted. It worked with Sieun, and sadly worked for you, too. He wheeled himself over on his new four hundred dollar chair (“For ergonomics!” he had argued) and pulled you in between his legs. His arms wrapped around the back of your thighs and his chin rested on your stomach. The stupid, adorable, troublemaker face was up-turned brows, pouting lips, and eyes that twinkled from the lighting above.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “It just… feels nice to be taken care of right now.”

Ugh. Maybe you were being too harsh. A week’s worth of annoyance was nothing compared to a week’s worth of trying to glue back pieces of his heart together when they kept falling apart. Or maybe that was the spell he put you under with his dreamy eyes talking. You couldn’t think straight with your constricting office wear on.

You kissed your teeth. Your hand grabbed a chunk of his curly brown mop of hair and pushed him off of you. “You stink. Shower and get ready; you’re buying me new snacks at the grocery store.”

“But I don’t need to go grocery shopping.”

“You have one pack of instant ramen left; yes, you do.”

–

One of your first memories with Jeongin was the day before you both started secondary school. The last day of summer was spent under the stars on a trampoline in his backyard with empty cans of cola scattered out on the grass. Your heads touched while bodies were oriented in the opposite direction, semi-Spiderman style.

You were the first to voice what you feared most. “Do you think things are going to change?”

He shook his head adamantly. “Never.”

“Nothing is ever non-zero.”

“Must you nerdify everything?”

“It’s not on purpose. I can’t help it.”

“Except you could.” Jeongin sighed, whether out of disappointment or enjoying the feeling of the cool night air, you had long forgotten. His black, too-short-for-a-bowl-cut pin-straight hair poked your ears whenever he turned and knocked his head against yours.

“Ow,” you whined. “What?”

He pointed to the sky. “See that?”

“Stars.”

“Do you recognize the constellation, smartass?” Astronomy wasn’t your strong suit. “Scorpio and Lupus.”

You shrugged. “Who do you think would win in a fight: ten scorpions or one wolf?”

“That’s not the point of my question,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But the correct answer is ten scorpions.”

“What’s the point, then? Of anything, really?”

He pointed to the sky again. “Things will change only when the stars do.”

“Apocalypse-style?”

“Exactly. When they do, it’ll be the end of the world.”

You giggled, tilting your head closer to his. “Cornball.”

“What is a cornball, anyways? Like, a chicken nugget made of corn?”

“Genetically-modified corn in the shape of a ball.”

At thirteen, you both thought these conversations made you comedic, thought-provoking geniuses. They were typical teenage nonsensical word-smithing that’d later evolve into witty adult assholery, but they were ones you’d cherish ‘til the end of time.

“Never change, _____ _____.”

“You, too, Yang Jeongin.”

Tonight, the night sky was as clear as the night before secondary school. It’s been a couple of weeks since Jeongin moved in and progress was there, but it was slow. Some days, he’d spend all day in bed under the covers and you’d have to force-feed him sustenance and flip him over to prevent bed sores. Some days he spent the entire day deep cleaning the tile grout with a toothbrush until his knees were purple. The worst nights were like tonight, where you’d come home to an empty bottle of some mystery brown liquor you didn’t remember purchasing and him passed out on the couch.

It was exhausting for this short amount of time. It was a rollercoaster of emotions and outbursts and constantly having to take his phone away from doing something stupid like calling or texting her. This wasn’t the Jeongin you were used to; you wanted the one who sang tunes and trot jingles, the one who burned mac ‘n cheese on accident, the one who’d wave to little kids when you were out together. The unmoving body was just a shell of him, and just as he struggled putting the pieces of himself back together, you struggled holding the ones he was able to find in place.

You lifted his head by his curls and plopped it back on your lap after taking a seat.

“Careful,” he groaned. “There’s precious real estate up here.”

You didn’t speak, distracting yourself by playing with his hair. His eyes were bloodshot and cheeks stained with drool and salty tears. Sniffles filled the silence.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, words a bit slurred. “I don’t like when you’re quiet.”

“Ask yourself that question,” you replied, mouth full of salt.

“You’re mad at me.”

“I care about you.”

“You’re mad because you care,” he nodded, understanding, or at least pretending to. “I care about you, too.”

Caring wasn’t enough. No amount of love and tenderness from you could replace the one Sieun gave him, and that was evident. How were you supposed to hold him together when she was his reason? You could only do so much, and your best was never enough.

He pointed to the ceiling. “Do you think Scorpio and Lupus are out tonight?”

“It’s cloudy.”

“Oh. Is it?” he sighed. “But they’re still there?”

“They’ll always be there.”

“Together?”

“Together. Forever, of course.”

“How do you know that?”

Was he asking with underlying intention or drunken oblivion? “I just do.”

Jeongin snorted. “Boooo.”

“Boo, you!”

“Ugh, stop moving!” His lips pursed as he rolled off of you. “Nope. I need to throw up.”

You followed him as he crawled into the bathroom, hunching over his toilet bowl. You held his hair back for a bit before realizing you could tie it back.

“It’s so long now,” you admired while tying back his front pieces.

“Sieun hated it,” the toilet echoed.

“I liked it. Very ‘bad boy’. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Yeah. She’s stupid, right?”

“So stupid.”

“Yeah! And so bossy!” He paused, gagging into the toilet. “Bossier than you! Can you believe that’s possible?!”

“I’m not bossy, I just know what I like when I like it and how I like it,” you patted his back a little too harshly this time, “nothing bossy about that.”

“And it’s a wonder why you’re single.”

A sharp pang pierced your chest. Your relationship status was a touchy subject. It’s not that you preferred to be single, but your job was mentally demanding and sometimes required long hours past sunset. It wouldn’t be fair to your partner when your life was devoted to your career and climbing the corporate ladder. Dates were few, and not too far in between, but none of the prospects were worth the trouble when half of them expected you to pay the whole bill when they found out your occupation.

You loved love. It was beautiful, it was kind, it meant always feeling whole. Of course you wanted to be in love. Of course you wanted to touch, to kiss, to always be intertwined with someone. Life was young, and there was time, but the shroud of loneliness grew longer and larger as the days passed. Suffice to say, your single status hit a nerve.

You patted his back hard enough for him to gag one last time. “Good luck not puking your guts out.”

“No, wait -” but you had already shut the door.

It was the kind of topic that elicited a long, hot, reflective shower until the water ran cold. Were you one of those working women who were doomed by capitalism to serve as a corporate slave until you could withdraw from your 401k at fifty nine and a half? To live a mediocre life and settle down with a five-rated coworker for the sake of reproduction and contributing to lowering the birthrate? To settle for the mundane and predictable? That wasn’t the _____ you knew. At the peak of your young life, when did owning your first place meant that it was the beginning of the end?

When you walked out of the steam cloud, Jeongin was buried beneath your duvet, staring at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the tired, but still awake city. When he first moved in, he mentioned how jealous he was of your nice bedsheets, and you wondered, in that moment, how many times had he napped in your bed without you knowing. Annoyed, but willing, you crawled in behind him, too tired to argue.

He wiggled back, making sure your bodies touched, though he wanted to keep looking out. “Being single isn’t bad… right?”

Was it bad? No. “I like my alone time.”

“But isn’t it lonely?”

It’s never ending. “Only a little.”

“Even when I’m here?”

Especially now, more than ever. “Just a little.”

“What’s your metric of ‘little’?”

Astronomical. “Like a pinch of salt.”

His breathing slowed, body ready to shut down for the night and hopefully awaken before noon. He wrapped your arms around him, begging for a hug, a bit of human connection, something to satiate the pain of wanting to feel whole with someone again. When you gave in, he melted into your touch. This feeling was familiar, but it wasn’t the same. You would never be her.

Just when you thought he fell asleep, you felt his chest jitter, suppressing a mouthful of sobs.

“I hate this,” he said, voice cracking, hands gripping your blankets while you played the big spoon.

You could only nod into the crevice between his wingspan. “I know.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Sometimes, there’s a reason; sometimes, there isn’t.”

“Then, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” you confirmed and squeezed him tighter. “People fall out of love all the time.”

“Isn’t that fucking terrifying?” he sobbed. “One day, you’re flying, high on life with someone you thought could make forever feel like a day. Next, they tell you they don’t love you anymore.”

“Love is complicated.”

“But it isn’t! When you know, you know. It just isn’t as complicated as many people make it seem. So, what? She knew she didn’t love me anymore? That’s it?”

Complicated isn’t only when someone who once lit up your life now felt like their own fire within fizzled in the darkness. It wasn’t waking up one morning and deciding that they stopped loving you. Complexity was built with intention and time, overthinking and self-reflection. It’s as complicated as math; despite the many ways you could achieve an answer, there was only one answer. Sieun wasn’t a bad person; in fact, you liked her for the time they dated. You figured despite all her might and the many times she tried, she couldn’t force herself to love him anymore. It’s not like she woke up one morning and thought, ‘I don’t love him anymore.’ It’s never just, ‘that’s it,’ as Jeongin claimed its simplicity.

Complicated is spending every moment of free time with someone who knew the deepest parts of you without letting the romantic feelings slip through the cracks. It was intending to confess and ruin a decade’s worth of bonds, all for it to stay hidden with your many secrets when he admitted to finally asking out the cute girl he met through a mutual friend of Jisung. It was saying, ‘I love you,’ to end a phone call while suppressing the ache in your chest as he’d say it to someone else the same evening.

To Jeongin, it was just that. Love. How could one make it so difficult? But to you, there were layers, and someone had to peel them back before you revealed the true nature of your heart. Because after this, after Jeongin was healed and you were left with no one to hold you together the way you had for him, you’d have grown an infinite number of layers to protect yourself. Your future partner would have a lot of work to do.

“Love is an organism. Organisms are complex. It comes in different forms and has different functions. When I say, ‘I love you,’ you think I mean, ‘I care for you,’ right?”

Jeongin didn’t answer. Verbally, at least. His leveled breathing and rhythmic chest rises told you he was fast asleep in a drunken stupor while you had contemplated your answer.

“Yes,” you sighed, snuggling closer, “you do.”

–

Most psychologists would agree that the stages of grief had an order to them. Jeongin, PhD in grief, would say otherwise. In the span of a single day, he’d go between as many as three of the stages. Lately, it was a cocktail of denial, depression, and anger. Today, there was only anger. The drawers would be shut a little too loudly, he’d chew his food a little too aggressively, and his volume and colorful language on Discord closely resembled a sailor.

“Where’s the damn support?!” he screamed into the mic.

“You said you’d be in Zone A!” you heard Jisung yell through his headset.

Jeongin didn’t bother with a response and hung up the call. After whipping his headset on his bed with the strength of a baseball pitcher, he ran a hand through his tangled mop and swore under his breath.

You leaned on his door frame. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up,” he whined.

“You know what would make you feel better?” You drew a rectangle with your pointer fingers, then wiggled the rest in a wave of flames. Then, boom! Big boom!

“No.”

“Jeongin -”

“You said I could wait until I was ready.”

“I think you need to be ready now.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore about that stupid box in your stupid closet with all the stupid fucking shit in it!”

If there was one act you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone, even with a bond thicker than blood, it was raising their voice. You had barely lifted your hand to point an accusing finger at him the same way his mom would, when he shut his eyes and realized his grave mistake. He knew he fucked up when your eyebrows were raised in that, ‘what did you just say to me?’ manner. He was also regretting how much time you spent with his mom.

“... Maybe we should take the box out,” he muttered.

“Yeah, no shit. Grab the hammers.”

Two adult-sized adult-aged children in hoodies carrying a mysteriously heavy box and a couple of hammers at a public park past sunset was not one would describe as inconspicuous. Jeongin was far from ready to address the box, you realized, when you were forced to carry it all the way and he refused to look at it. Even when you prepared the garbage bag and shuffled through the contents, he avoided any sight of strawberry blond hair and scents of neroli and jasmine. Semi-slicked with sweat, you took the box to the top of the jungle gym and dragged the big baby up to meet it.

“You left the trash bag down there,” he noted.

You nodded. “Grab that picture frame.” The first one was the red one shaped like a heart. You tilted your chin overboard. “Slam it.”

“Like, on the ground?”

“Yup.”

“That’s not very nice... Why can’t we just throw it?”

“Because I can’t be sure you won’t dig through the dumpster and drag filth across my floors.”

“Who do you think I am?!”

“Break it with all your might!” you demanded, pretending to be angry and Hulk-smashing on the stable platform. “Rah! Into the trash bag, though, please.”

“She gave this to me on our two-month-iversary. She said it was a symbol of her heart,” he reflected, gentle fingers wiping the dust that collected.

“And what did she do to yours?”

“Break it.”

“She stomped on it.”

“Yeah…”

“Crushed it!”

“Yeah…!”

“Stabbed it with a blunt butter knife!”

“Yeah!”

“And did it hurt?!”

“Like a bitch!”

“Rue the day!!”

“Rue the roux!!”

Someone’s hungry. “Yeah, sure!”

With a guttural scream passionate enough to elicit goosebumps, Jeongin chucked the heart frame into the trash bag that splayed on the cement. The plexiglass shattered into big chunks and the frame split in two, shards of wood scattering about. It was a picturesque and artistic display of anger and heartbreak, but you’d never admit how you admired the symbolism to Jeongin’s face.

“That felt good,” he panted.

“Yeah? Do this one,” you said, handing him a mug.

“We painted mugs to give to each other at one of those stores in the mall. She said I didn’t have enough pink things in my life, so pink would be her color for me.”

“Fuck the color pink!”

“I mean, I still like the color -”

“Innie, I’m giving free therapy right now and I need you to work with me,” you hurried him alone by rolling your arms.

“Ok, ok! Jeez. But even you look good in pink -”

“Jeongin!”

“Pink sucks…!” he admitted hesitantly before chucking it into the pile. A satisfying shatter of ceramic echoed into the cloudless night.

“Ooh, heartbreak ASMR,” you sang.

Jeongin pulled a pink lop bunny Sonny Angel, those naked baby blind box toys that will put you in crushing debt one day, from the pile of infinite junk. He twirled it in his hands carelessly. “Don’t you like these, too?”

It was a rarer, sought-out-by-collectors type. You and many others had fingers twitching over the overpriced pay button on the resale apps everyday. “No…” your voice cracked.

“How am I supposed to break this?”

“Pop its head off.”

“What?”

You pointed shakily to its cute, pink ears as it smiled innocently. Your hands pretended to yank apart the head from its body. “Decapitate it.”

Jeongin jumped at the low-effort strength it took, which masked your pained groan. There goes a hundred dollars. Then, he plucked away its appendages. You couldn’t bear to look when he tossed the innocent body parts. May you wish no ill will on any collector to ever witness such a murder.

The rest of the box was junk to a stranger, treasure to Jeongin. Things like concert tickets, an empty wine bottle, dried flowers, cologne, sweaters, and jewelry joined the garbage. The last piece was the final boss; a shadow box summary of everything they’d done in the past year. A collection of restaurant receipts, themed matches, movie tickets, polaroid pictures, and loving post-it notes of cheesy poems and ‘I miss yous’ were stabbed into the felt and protected by a thick cover of glass.

“I can’t,” Jeongin sighed, sharp eyes scanning through the memories. He shook his head. “I just can’t.”

“You know the ‘break for emergencies only’ thingies for the fire extinguishers?” you asked and pointed to the pink box. “This is an emergency.”

“She put so much time into this. Almost everything we’ve ever done is preserved… Just for her to throw it all away two months later.”

When he offered this perspective, perhaps your speech on love not being complicated was more introspective than universally accepted. Two months to know you stopped loving someone was not a long enough time. It took much longer than that to no longer be on the same page, or in the same stage of life, or, for fuck’s sake, fall for an affair partner, right? No matter what the answer was, it made you upset.

You could only offer an affectionate rub on his arm. “Do you want to save this for next time?”

Jeongin took an eternity to answer, as if he read every line of every receipt and every ticket or memorized the way she dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s. Then, he pulled you to him in a side-hug.

“There won’t be a next time.”

The frame of the shadow box split by the seams and only cracked the glass. The felt board was kept intact, of course, save for a few loose polaroids. He wrapped his second arm around you in a full hug, resting his cheek atop your head as your bodies swayed with the wind, needing the comfort of his best friend to protect him in this very vulnerable moment.

“You ok?” you muffled into his chest. He smelled of vetiver.

“No,” he admitted confidently, “I hope I will be one day.”

“You will! You will.”

You two remained on the top of the jungle gym overlooking the twinkling skyline in each other’s arms. His fingers traced little shapes across your shoulder blades, some recognizable like stars and moons, others a choreography of squiggles. Your arms rested holding his lower back. In the quiet night, miraculously not in fear of being arrested, you could have fallen asleep right there.

Tonight, you witnessed no tears or any evidence of them. No pink cheeks, or stuffy nose, or bloodshot eyes. Progress was here for now, and though it was too early to celebrate, you’d both bask in the little victories.

“I’m so proud of you,” you encouraged.

“Really?” he hummed.

“Of course! Always.”

His throat bobbed, swallowing down emotions that threatened to escape. “It still hurts so much.”

“I know,” you agreed empathetically.

“But the destruction helped.”

“See?” you boasted. “Who’s always right?”

“_____’s always right,” he squeezed, “always right and always kind.”

“And always here for you.” No matter how painful it’d be.

The night ended with slow dancing under the stars. Hand-in-hand and the other his shoulder, you led the steps to the beat of his songs.

–

Jeongin found no comfort that was better than your bed. The second you left for work, just as the sun rose and tinted the condo in blood orange, he’d sneak in and crawl under your duvet. When the softness of linen and the weight of the feather down knocked him out hard and for the first time in a month, he was able to fall into a deep sleep and would make this his routine until work started. His body had never felt so refreshed, even before the break-up. It smelled like you; like cherries, cream, and tonka bean. A scent cocktail that was so warm and sexy it was like he was put under a spell.

When you were kids, your room wasn’t dirty, but it was cluttered after falling into the feminine urge to gather all things shiny and trinkety. Now, he noted, adulthood hadn’t knocked that part of your brain out while still developing your frontal lobe. You didn’t have as many rocks lying around anymore, but your decoration consisted of naked baby toys and other colorful vinyl blind boxes, music albums, movie posters, and pictures of your loved ones.

Jeongin had looked through every picture in your room about a thousand times already, but only had now noticed that he was in almost every single one. Some were just with you and your parents, but even many of those had him in it. He liked the ones in your younger years; going through the gross and oily phases of puberty, matching ice cream-stained camp t-shirts, teenage-year birthdays, and his favorite was the one from prom night. You wore the sparkliest, glitter-sheddinng, not-the-most-flattering silhouette of a gown that many other girls matched in different colors. But he was just as ridiculous; too small in his poorly-tailored suit, sleeves folded, loose matching tie, and a crooked boutonniere. You both refused to do the prom pose because, ew, touching. So, you dabbed instead. Double ick.

If there was a picture with Jisung, he was in it. Minho? With Jeongin. Your girlfriends? Jeongin photobombed it somehow. He may have ruined some of the compositions, but he was your Jeongin, how were you supposed to throw them away?

Jeongin’s parents once asked if he would consider marrying his best friend. Knowing them, they were serious. At the premature age of twenty, he had gagged at the idea of marriage. Not to you specifically, but tied down? Early into his prime years of bachelorhood? No, thanks.

Then, he met Sieun, and thought maybe marriage was meant for him after all. Forever with the one person you loved so dearly, what could be bad about that? But forever meant really forever, not just a few years, or a few decades, it meant ‘til death do you part and into the afterlife, if that was even real. Maybe that’s what scared her. The thought of Jeongin being her soulmate crushed her world; the thought of her not being his soulmate crushed his. So, now he was back to square one, and he’d rather rot in your bed than make any progress.

Snuggled deep in between your plushies and pillows, he held above him a picture of you on your birthday. You were sitting next to him in front of your cake and had buttercream smudged on your nose while he was bent backwards in an evil cackle. He replayed the memory in his mind. You weren’t mad, but you wanted revenge, and shortly after had also smeared some under his nose in a stylish mustache.

In bed, he couldn’t help but snicker. In between sessions of handheld video games, he’d shuffle through more pictures until time passed by too quickly and the day was spent.

“Jesus -” you gasped, clutching your chest as you entered your room. “Yeah, sure, come in.”

“Thanks,” he sang half-heartedly.

“Have you been doing this every day?” He responded by shrugging. “He’s in pain, he’s hurting, and you love him…”

“I don’t like this picture of me.” Jeongin held up a recent one at a dinner party Hyunjin hosted for his condo-warming. His face was unprepared for the picture and his eyes were closed and mouth open. “I’m not even looking at the camera.”

“Yeah, but I look good,” you boasted.

He tossed it to the side of the bed in a pile of likeness dubbed, ‘throw these ones away’. “I like this one in front of the art museum, though.”

“I do, too.”

You hopped next to him on top of the covers, shuffling through the different piles he made. It was clear which ones he liked, disliked, and didn’t care for. “You don’t like this picture of me and Changbin on our graduation day?”

“Am I in it?”

“No?”

“Then, no.”

“You like this one, though?”

It was a solo picture of you on the same day. He found it hidden in a box of other pictures that were either blurry or of you alone at special events or academic and career achievements. You wore your gown and held your cap that was decorated with plastic jewels that spelled, ‘So Done with this B.S.’, high above your head with the brightest smile on your face. Around your neck was a necklace that he got you for your graduation gift: a petite padlock on a simple chain from one of those boutique brands all the girls liked.

This was one of the most important days of your life. You were happy, sunny, and beautiful. Of course he liked this one.

“Meh,” he shrugged. “I guess you look all right in that one.”

You spent the night in bed recalling stories and social media posts of times past with oily take-out from the corner restaurant downstairs. The quiet weeknight was livened by your giggles and ugly snorts and Jeongin couldn’t remember the last time you two did something like this. It lasted until it was too late to care to kick him out of your bed and you both fell asleep covered in film and prints.

If forever meant forever with you, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

–

Clubbing was a past time that Jeongin probably shouldn’t partake in due to his borderline alcoholism, but when it was for Jisung and Felix’s wombo-combo birthday bash (their words, if you’d even call them such), no one was safe from the heavy pour of Hennessey or bottom-shelf tequila down one’s throat. The weather was still appropriately warm to show off skin, and both you and your roommate took advantage of that, claiming that it was still hot-girl summer and this would be the best time to show off how perfectly fine everything was.

Jeongin rested his chin on your bare shoulder as you stared into the mirror. He had shown his affection more in a physical form after the destruction of his romantic paraphernalia. You should probably set some boundaries… Next time, maybe.

“You might as well go topless,” he teased, poking at your skin-tight top.

His touch tickled and your body stupidly reacted to it more sensitively than any other man who once touched you. “I’m sure you’d like that.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, only nuzzled his curls deeper into the crook of your neck. He styled it in the half-ponytail way you both came to love and work all black, sparkles of silver and pearls adorning his neck. Just as you had barely-there clothing, as did him, exposing hard-earned results of his efforts in the gym. His daytime clothes of soft linens and cottons dyed in innocent shades of blues and oranges matched his aura more than this edgy alter-ego that came out in the presence of alcohol. Soft Jeongin would be in a deep sleep tonight.

“Pearls?” you scoffed. “You slut.”

“Too much?”

“No, but you’re certainly sending the, ‘I’m single and very much looking,’ signal.”

“Perfect!” he shrugged. “When was the last time you went to a pregame, anyways?”

“When did you turn twenty-one?”

“Ok, grandma.”

You threw your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry I am a working woman.”

Skin touched more skin when his arm hooked your neck and dragged you to the door. The closer the taxi approached the condo, Jeongin’s hands more frequently wiped on his pants.

“Do you think she’ll be there?” he asked, sensing your concern.

“I don’t know,” you lied.

A couple weekends before this, you had personally asked the two celebrants to not invite her to the pregame. If they felt so inclined to invite her to the club for the sake of keeping the peace, at least then Jeongin wouldn’t have to be in close proximity and you could drag him away. Jisung was the one who tried to protest, but after begging and bribing them five rounds of drinks on the night-of, he caved in, though claiming he was going to not invite her anyways. He just wanted to see how far you’d go for your ‘beloved “friend.”’

“I need a drink,” he groaned.

“Look at me.” When he wouldn’t, you had to force him by grabbing his bare shoulders. They were much bigger than you remembered. “Say it with me; I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine?”

“I need more gumption, babe. Give me some umph!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“More!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine!”

“Yeah!”

“Smart, sexy, fine!”

“Yeaaahh!”

“Let’s drink!”

After tipping the taxi for suffering through your pregame to the pregame, you and Jeongin did more breathing exercises outside their condo to the tune of the hip-hop music inside. All charged up, he opened the door and you stood in awe just how many friends two boys had post-university. The floors were already sticky with juice and liquor, and there was barely room to get to the crowd of people you actually knew. Luckily, Jeongin was tall, and he grabbed your hand to lead you in. This, for some reason, felt more intimate than slow dancing at the park, and that’s when you knew you were embarrassingly touch-starved.

Jisung squeezed himself in between and slung his arms across the shoulders of his close friends. “Long time no see, sugar mama!”

“Hello to you, too, mooch,” you smirked. “Happy birthday, I guess.”

He landed a big wet one on your cheek. “Thanks, babe!”

“Ugh, ew. Where’s the other child?”

“_____! Jeongie!” the deep voice of an Australian boy slurred. He handed you two plastic neon shot cups of brown liquid and no chaser. “Shot o’ Henny! House rules.”

“You disgusting, gross, icky boys…” you groaned.

“C’mere,” Jeongin urged. He twisted his arm around yours so they’d cross, causing your faces to inch closer. His dimples poked his cheeks. “Bottoms up!”

That was the motto of the pregame. One after the other after the other after losing games in humiliating succession made your vision double and made walking feel like you were on a ship. Chan had to catch you not once, but twice, from tripping or bumping into someone. It was as simple as one hand on your waist and pulling you into his chest, to which you so shamelessly placed your hand on when he hugged you close.

“We keep running into each other,” he grinned, biting his bottom lip.

“Must be fate,” you flirted back.

For the second time, Jeongin had to pry you away from the hottest man in the room. Annoyed, you followed anyway, because tonight you were supposed to distract your best friend from falling into a hole filled with existential crisis, not trying to sleep with someone he considered his brother. Still, you shot Chan a hand sign to your ear. ‘Call me!’ you pouted.

“Why would you cockblock me like that?” you whined.

Jeongin didn’t answer right away. He cleared his throat. “It’s time for the club, silly.”

You two shared a sedan with the birthday boys and Minho. One person above the normal limit, but the driver didn’t care and would rather hurry to do the drop-off.

Jisung patted his lap. “Got your seat, sugar mama.”

“No,” you and Jeongin said in simultaneous deadpan.

“Felix, move up,” Jeongin demanded. He man-spread as much as Jisung and Minho allowed, making a small seat in between his legs.

You’d be the first to admit that sometimes you and Jeongin were a little too close to be considered friends; even strangers had mistaken you for a couple once in a while. But you’ve never been close to him like this before. Your hesitation was long enough that Jisung had to yank you into the car. You did your very best to settle in, moving your ass as little as possible, struggling with how you could make this any less awkward and cover the least amount of surface area.

Jisung wrapped Jeongin’s arm tight around your waist and slapped his triceps. “All buckled in!”

As Jisung and Minho yapped each other’s ears off, you and Jeongin remained silent. If you turned to talk to him, your ass would graze his pants, and that was weird, right? Yeah, weird, and it seemed he had a similar thought. The exception was tapping his fingers on your waist to the beat of the radio. His breath tickled the skin on your neck, and your body betrayed you by heating up your face. Touch-starved was an understatement. No, horny was not the right answer; you’d refute it.

You couldn’t have crawled out of the sedan faster. The other boys rushed in to line up at the bar (“Don’t forget what you owe us!” Jisung whispered (yelled)). Behind you, Jeongin scanned the crowd. You followed suit and couldn’t find a beautiful short girl with strawberry blond hair. Ok, this was a good sign. Maybe she wouldn’t come! He let out a breath of relief; or was it disappointment? Regardless, he joined you on the dance floor and weaved between people, dancing against the oontz-oontz.

In this moment, while your veins were half-filled with alcohol and both of your closest friends closed in with over-filled cups, you watched Jeongin forget his woes and sing to the sad up-beat electronic music. A circle would open up in the middle at the peak of the song; Changbin would break dance; Minho and Jisung would body roll; Felix did the worm; and Jeongin would force you into a connected chain reaction of shoulder and arm waves. In these moments, he smiled. Grinned, even; dimples as deep as they could be and eyes twinkling under the neon lights from the DJ.

When the boys dispersed for another drink after a couple of hours of burning calories, you two were left alone again. In those hours, you couldn’t count how many times you made eye contact. After locking eyes again, feeling the highs of euphoria and the lows of heartbreak, he looked like he was going to say something. Then, he broke it, and his face dropped. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, but like a moth to a flame, you were attracted to the pain.

She greeted Jisung and Felix at the bar on the opposite side of the club. It was too easy to spot her in the dark with her bright hair. She introduced the boys to someone next to her, touching his arm and leaning against him affectionately, making it as clear as the vodka shot in her hand that’s who she was with and he was hers.

How quickly the human heart beats for a lover, just for it to dance to the same rhythm for another.

Jeongin seemed apathetic. Not angry, not sad, and maybe unable to distinguish between if this was the ache of betrayal or the nostalgia of closing a chapter that begged to end.

Speaking of nostalgia, an old EDM song that premiered in your early years of middle school began, the familiar notes from a piano causing the whole club to scream.

You reached out to your soulmate. “You love this song.”

He smiled, eyes tired and filled with sadness, though without the reflection of a pool of stars. “I do love this song.”

You led him to the front where the DJ played Clarity. Lost in the crowd packed like sardines with strangers, you and Jeongin were free to sing out the shadows that slept in your hearts.

“Hot dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life,” you sang at a horribly off-tune. “C’mon, I know you know it!”

“If I fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time,” he sang in perfect key.

“Louder! Hold still right before we crash ‘cause we both know how this ends!”

“A clock ticks ‘til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again.”

You forced your heart to sing its song and it retaliated in waves of tragedy. As your lips stretched to retain the smile, you screamed with the crowd, “‘Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

And he joined in, matching your volume, matching your energy. “Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don’t know why!”

In unison, you threw your heads back, crying into the air at the peak of the song. Like shadows, the crowd mimicked each other with hands curled into fists and hearts raised to the sky. “If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?”

“Let’s go!” you cheered.

The beat picked up and the crowd jumped to the chorus. The bass of the song reached your heart and pumped blood through your veins, tired from fighting with rationality. You would take these short five minutes to let go, let your heart confess to the boy in front of you in the form of a 2013 poetic masterpiece. Despite the meaning, the beat was too sick and you couldn’t help but grin from the fun. Jeongin wasn’t one to hide emotions for the sake of saving face, but it was like he forgot why he was screaming as he headbanged his way through the wordless chorus. You both burst into a fit of giggles, blinded by the lasers that cut through the smoke machine.

As the song progressed, the more your bodies pressed together. Side by side, mixing sweat with sweat, you both screamed at the DJ the second verse and would turn to each other again for the iconic bridge. His dimples carved into his perfect skin and this would be a core memory you’d lock away forever despite the molotov cocktail of despair that ignited in your gut.

The line you screamed to your best friend was the one that branded itself into your whole being. It was the one line he refused to sing.

“You are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

He didn’t continue the pattern of bouncing off lines from each other. He stopped jumping, brows furrowed in a way that concerned you more than it concerned him.

“What?” you paused.

Jeongin closed the gap between your bodies. Surrounded by violent waves of people, you blocked them out within the bubble, unable to hear the song anymore. His hands cupped your cheeks. Your mind registered a second too late that he was wiping something with his thumbs. It felt wet and warm, freshly flowing on your numb face.

His hands left your face and found your arms. You watched as he wrapped them around his neck and his dropped to your waist. The strength of his grip was desperate and longing, filling an emptiness that physically you could replace, but lovingly couldn’t replicate. You begged your body to step away, to run out and find Chan or anyone else; to go home even, but tonight your heart controlled your mind and overwrote the command. This was what you wanted, what you needed, what you dreamed of since secondary school. To be in the arms of the one you loved fulfilled the one level on the hierarchy of needs, but was a threat to the one below it. Your body was struggling to respond to its fight-or-flight, understanding that you had long crossed the thin line between friend and lover long ago with a size thirteen shoe, but it had betrayed you and glued your heels to the sticky dance floor.

Why was Clarity the longest fucking song in the world?

The smell of his pink peppercorn and cedar hit your senses and brought you back to life. You felt his forehead against yours, nose touching nose, his breath tickling your lips, and saw his eyes float between them and your now dry eyes.

“Why?” was all you could muster against his lips.

He answered by swallowing your words. You never understood the comparison of the softness of rose petals until you felt his. You kissed him shyly, waiting for him to pull away in a shocking realization of regret and prepared for the aftermath. But when you wouldn’t respond how he wanted, he pressed harder, moving his lips hungrily and mouth open and welcoming to receive. Your tongues danced and tasted the bitterness of tonight’s drinks, old lovers, and repressed confusion. But it felt good; so, so good. To be the one he wanted for once, whether it was real or for convenience, was an opportunity you pathetically couldn’t pass.

And your heart, how it soared! With wings made of wax, you were high above the clouds, tangling yourself with him and exchanging euphoric hums. But your dreams were sculpted by Daedalus and delusion was the sun, and though you wished to remain here forever, your wings began to melt and reality wouldn’t be kind enough to soften the fall.

When you broke for air in the middle of the next song, you felt pressure rise in your nose and eyes as a million tears collected. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted; or rather, you weren’t what he wanted. He wanted the same memory, the same cry of song, the same touch, the same kiss, the same taste of breath; just not yours. He wanted hers. You knew in the deepest corner of your heart that he imagined holding her instead and that her breath was the one he’d breath in. In the ideal scenario, you’d be out by the perimeter watching your best friend win back the woman of his dreams and he’d hold her so tightly, afraid that she would drown in the crowd. You were meant to be his biggest fan, not his greatest love.

“Why?” you cried again.

He shook his head. “I just thought -”

“This isn’t right.” But you wished it was.

Outside, the busy streets in the middle of the night were deafened by the bass and proximity to the DJ. It was a miracle you heard the honk of a nearby taxi that’d take you home.

No, you wouldn’t confess to your best friend in a club downtown. No, you wouldn’t confess any other time regardless of circumstance. This was a secret the recipient of an unrequited love was supposed to bury with them to their grave because it was the deepest sin committed between two best friends. As long as you didn’t confess, the bond wasn’t severed and the damage could be repaired. That’s how it was supposed to work, anyways.

For the night, you’d lock yourself in your room. You’d close off any and all avenues in order to protect and repair the critical condition of your heart. So much of it had been chipped away and given in pieces to fill the gaps that Jeongin was missing, but now he was confusing kindness for love and familiarity with feeling whole. How would you get back the pieces of yourself you so willingly gave up? Would your heart know to create those pieces into something new, or would it reject anything that came in its place that wasn’t from him?

You arrived home and washed away the sins until your skin burned from all the scrubbings. The sky was cloudy tonight as you looked outward into the lively streets of young adults who could party until the sun snuck above the horizon. The stars wouldn’t show themselves tonight.

Would Scorpio and Lupus be there tomorrow?

–

When your door handle wouldn’t give, Jeongin gave up and retreated to his room some time after 3:00 AM. He laid in bed and hated the feeling of his bed sheets. They weren’t as soft and they didn’t envelope him in a blanket of clouds as yours did. Though the ceiling color was the same as yours, in a sense, it still wasn’t the same, as he was in his own room and not where he belonged.

You had burned into his soul. The way your lips felt, the way your tongue swirled, the way your hands pulled him in, was the answer of how much you yearned for him. He was no stranger to signs of affection. No friend would do all of this with their heart in platonic mode. You didn’t look at him the way Felix or Chan or the others did. You, with your softened eyes and gentle touch, had him in your heart, for the Gods only know how long.

Jisung was the one to kick him out of the club and kick what little sense was left in him. “Go after her, you idiot!”

His lips were tingly. The feeling of your hands through his hair, fingers gentle and tracing the map to your heart, was carved into his scalp. His tongue swiped across his lips, lonely and aching to have another taste.

You infected him. You forced poison down his throat that made him unable to sleep, torturing him with a recording of your body pressed on his. He blamed you for how it planted itself and festered into something more salacious; a similar scenario, with tangled limbs and messy hair, but in the privacy of your bedroom and much less clothing.

In the days that followed, you pretended that night never happened, but something changed. Your responses were shorter, your cheeks were pinker, you couldn’t hold eye contact without faltering to his lips, you wore baggier clothes, and couldn’t even spend more than fifteen minutes in the same room without having to leave to ‘get water’ or ‘go to the bathroom’.

Why, for the love of all the Gods, hadn’t you confessed yet? Isn’t that the rational next step?

“Why would she?” Minho snorted while kicking his feet up on your coffee table. Jeongin would wipe that down later.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he repeated.

“You understand you live here, too, right?”

“So…”

“So… isn’t that weird? What are you going to say? ‘Cool, I’m still not over Sieun though, sowwy. Can I still live here, though’?”

“But I am!”

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear. Seeing her with that guy… sure, it sucked ass, but I don’t know. No one ever likes to see their ex with someone else.”

“No one likes taking care of someone they love who loves someone else, either.”

Jeongin pulled the string on his hoodie and hid inside. “I just feel like a confession would get rid of all this tension -”

“Sexual tension.”

“Regular tension.”

“And change the trajectory of your friendship and lives forever, so much so that the stars would misalign and chaos would ensue. Just as the prophecy foretold,” Minho rolled his eyes. “You know what, Jeongin, you’re right - _____ should confess her undying love to her best friend of over a decade who just broke up with the first love of his life after they made out on the dance floor to fucking Clarity, of all the damn EDM songs in the world, and then all would be normal, right? Nothing good has ever come out of tongue dueling to an EDM song.”

“I don’t need your sass…”

“Yes, you do, because you’re acting like an idiot. I don’t care what Jisung says, he’s too much of a loverboy. Think rationally, here; she’s not going to confess to someone who she knows doesn’t feel the same way. It’s that simple.”

Love was an infectious disease and Jeongin didn’t have the proper antibodies to defend himself against your poison. His heart, his mind, and his body were firing alert signals to each other whenever he saw you. His body would block them when you came home in your work-out clothes; his mind couldn’t focus whenever you spoke to him; and his heart wrenched when your smile didn’t match your eyes.

“Earth to Jeongin!” you snapped, waving in front of his face.

“Hm?” he asked, pretending your chest wasn’t in his face. His mind did a double-take when it registered your outfit.

“I said I’m going out for the night. So, you know, don’t light my home on fire.”

“Out where?”

Your back stiffened. “On a date.”

–

When Minho hit you up during your lunch break on a Friday afternoon, you were half expecting him to ask when the meeting was with the developers. The other half was not expecting a proposition.

“I don’t date co-workers,” you deadpanned.

“Not me, genius,” he scoffed. “A friend.”

“I’m not interested in Jisung.”

“How we got promoted at the same time is beyond me. I have other friends!”

“Do they look like Chan?”

“Sadly, no. They don’t look like Jeongin, either.”

Since the clubbing-turned-friendship-destroying wombo-combo, Minho made it his mission to terrorize you about it every working hour, either in person or over Teams with kissing, tongues, and eggplant emojis. Each time, you couldn’t suppress the burning on your face and in your chest. Your showers had to be ice cold for you to not remember how his hands gripped your waist and to forget how warm his tongue was around yours. At work, you often found yourself dazed, looking out at young couples that passed the streets below, daydreaming about kissing Jeongin again every time a couple would kiss at the stop light before crossing the road, or kiss each other goodbye, or just because.

You were sick with the lovebug and there was no remedy available. What made Minho think a date would work?

“No,” you said.

“Come on, _____! Live a little!”

“No!”

“So you’re saving yourself for a man who only kissed you because he felt sorry for you.”

If anyone was going to tell you the hard truth, it would be him. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “You think I can’t get over him.”

“I know you can’t.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You wanted it.”

“Of course I did, so what?!”

“You need to either move on and forget it happened, or fuck each other and see where it takes you. Which would you rather tell Jeongin?”

Minho was brash, but he was right, in a sense. If you couldn’t feel comfortable in your own home, you’d be drained of all life and cease to exist, living as a hollow body that went to work and came home to sleep. But was moving on or sleeping with your best friend truly the only two options?

Maybe you were an idiot. “Not a date. A drink.”

“Same thing. I’ll set it up tonight.”

“Tonight?!”

“Take it or leave it.”

There was some satisfaction in the way Jeongin’s face twisted when you admitted to a date. Yes, you put on your tightest clothes; yes, you put on your favorite perfume; and yes, you weren’t wearing a bra. All of which Jeongin realized, based on the path his eyes traveled.

“A date,” he muttered. “With whom?”

“I don’t know. Minho set it up for me.”

“Minho?” he sneered, then shook his head. “And you’re going?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t go.”

“Jeongin -”

He stood from his seat on the couch. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I can’t -” you stuttered, unable to form the words you wanted to say in order. “I’m going.”

He blocked your path to the door. “I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“About that night.”

“Now?” you scoffed. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

“This is something I want to do. Please,” you begged, “let me go.”

“I think you don’t want to go.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“I think I do.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” The familiar sting on your nose returned. “You don’t know anything.”

“I think -” he paused, voice caught in his throat. “I know what I felt from you that night.”

“You know,” you chuckled bitterly. “You know what, exactly?”

“I felt you. I felt ten years of frustration, of anger, of-of desire, of everything that is both good and bad -”

“Jeongin -”

“How can you say that I didn’t feel how your heart beat against mine, how your lips pressed deeper -”

“Stop -”

“No!” he cried out. “I won’t stop! I can't! I-I need to know.”

“Are you asking for something? Are you looking for an answer that you already know?”

“Yes!”

“Why?!”

“Theories can be proven wrong.”

“But why does it matter?”

His voice cracked and he couldn’t manage to look you in your glossy eyes. “We need to lay everything on the table for this to work.”

“What’s not broken doesn’t need to be fixed.”

“But it is broken! Everything’s broken! It’s all a shattered mess of pieces that don’t fit together and we need to repair what’s broken when it’s all laid out in front of us.”

“Why?” you stuttered. “Why tonight? Tonight, of all nights, when I have something that’ll make me forget about that night for just a couple of hours?”

Jeongin couldn’t answer. It could have happened any night. But the game of life threw in a time-sensitive prompt that changed the whole plot. The fact that you wanted to forget, but couldn’t, might be the only confession he’d get.

“I can’t keep revolving my life around you,” you whispered. “I can’t keep loving you the way I do and maintain the friendship you need from me.”

There it was, the confession he was looking for, but not in the way he expected you to admit. He thought you’d do so while looking at the ground, hiding your smile the way you would act shyly, and maybe it’d be a little embarrassing. But as you stood before him, you were standing strong, refusing to break eye contact, with tears streaming down and dripping from your chin. It was in a way that begged for him to see you for how you really felt; like he was ripping your heart from your chest with his bare hands.

Your hands curl into fists in an effort to stop the tears. “If I lay the pieces of my heart on the table, I can’t take them back.”

He stepped closer. “Why not?”

You stepped back. “Because I won’t be able to put myself back together.”

“I’m here. I was made for you; to help keep you together.”

“Not in the way I want. In the way I need.”

“Yes, yes to both!” Jeongin grabbed tissues to dab the tears from your precious face, as if your skin was coated in porcelain. “I want to make this work.”

“This friendship.”

“No.”

“I am not her!” your voice cracked. “I am not her and I can’t fill in for the gap she left behind.”

“I don’t want her. I want you.”

You still couldn’t accept it. It just didn’t make sense. You were made to care for him from afar, not stand by his side. “You don’t mean that. You had ten years. Ten years! It only changed because, what, you're desperate for touch and you're going after the easiest catch? It's pathetic. You're pathetic!”

Your sharp tongue was your greatest weapon, but Jeongin was left unscathed. You were hurting and had a decade's worth of hardened shells that were crumbling in front of him. Yes, this was all too sudden, and it didn't make sense, but he was losing you and he'd rather break you down into a million pieces and deal with the puzzle later if it meant you'd stay.

“_____,” he whispered. He pressed his forehead against yours as if the closeness would allow you to read his mind and hear his heart scream. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

You sucked in a breath. Those words felt like a spell that lit your body in flames. Your mind said to run, but your body and heart had overruled. You tilted your head and your noses touched. “What if this doesn’t work?”

“Theories were tested repeatedly to be deemed true.”

“Tested a lot of times.”

“A billion times.”

“That takes a very long time.”

“I’ll take forever with you,” he breathed on your lips. “If you’ll have me.”

Your iron grip on his sweater would surely leave a mark later, but you were too afraid to let go, too afraid that this moment was a dream and he’d disappear if you faltered. “I was yours for ten years. I’ve been waiting to have you.”

One soft kiss. “I took too long.”

Another, more needy, kiss. “You can make it up to me later.”

And another, one that mimicked the hunger from that night. “Now.”

“Hm, I don’t know… I have a date, remember?”

“Yeah, with me in your bed.”

Your giggles echoed throughout the condo when Jeongin threw you over his shoulder and ran to your room.

And so your heart soared again. Above the ether was the unknown, in the mythical heavens and forbidden territory. But you'd get there together, while your arms tangled with his and noses rubbing affectionately as your breaths combined in between long and slow kisses under your (and his) blankets.

The fine line you once refused to cross bent and folded with your bodies.

–

EPILOGUE

“Yo,” Minho greeted the phone.

“Hey, I don’t think I can make it tonight -”

“She’s sick!” Jeongin interrupted.

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Well, thank God!” Minho sighed.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, that was a lie.”

“What the hell/What the actual hell is wrong with you?” you and Jeongin yelled in disbelief.

“Because Jeongin is a possessive simpleton and _____ is a cheap date. Did my master plan work, or not?”

“Well, yes, but -”

“My work here is done, bye!” Minho hung up.

#yang jeongin #jeongin #yang jeongin fic #jeongin fic #skz #stray kids #skz fic #stray kids fic #i had to tw song lyrics cuz i have never gotten a writing ick so bad in my LIFE #TO THAT SONG OF ALL SONGS TOO #but it was fOr tHe pLOt

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warriormoustache · 6 months

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Got my first shrimp goby pair last week and this is my impression of them so far.

#Art #Fish #Fishblr #Fish art #My art #The fish is fine btw just a coward #Though I do think he might have gotten a small concussion from his two escape attempts #Jumped out of the tank literally at one in the morning and then an hour later at two in the morning it was a miracle I was awake during this #I have since covered the food holes in the lid with heavy objects #It gave me a heart attack on day two cuz I thought it was dead #I even poked it with a stick and it didn’t react at all #Luckily I left it in there and it was up and going about six hours later and has since been behaving normally #It is eating tho which is a good sign #Tested my paremetres and there’s nothing wrong with the water so ╮(╯_╰)╭#Shrimp is delightful to watch #She explores the tank a lot and is super cute #Idk what the sex of the fish is but I’m pretty confident that the shrimp is a girl #Has snapped once and I was unprepared for how loud they actually are in person #The fish cuddles the shrimp with its tail and they’re super cute #They gave me a stress for a few days but everything’s stable now so #10/10 aquarium pets #Aquarium stuff

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pin-k-ink · 12 days

Text

trespass // sakusa kiyoomi

tw ⇢ non-con, somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampie, grinding, public sex, implied voyeurism, getting caught, minor manga spoilers, sakusa is lowkey delulu

wc ⇢ 2.5k

a/n: this was heavily inspired by a mista fic i read

Sakusa's skin crawled as he stared at the bus, a sense of dread rising in his throat. The vehicle loomed before him, its doors open like the maw of some great beast waiting to swallow him whole. Inside, two full teams from Itachiyama awaited, their bodies packed together in a claustrophobic nightmare due to a last-minute transportation issue.

As he stepped onto the bus, Sakusa's mind reeled at the thought of being trapped in such close quarters with so many people, each one a potential vector for illness. He had always prized his personal space, a carefully maintained barrier against the chaos of the outside world. Now, that barrier was about to be breached.

He should've just taken the train to their away games without batting an eye. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to be crammed into another vehicle with strangers, which seemed slightly worse than getting on a bus with people he actually knew. Or maybe a tiny part of him felt uneasy about leaving you, his precious little manager, in a bus full of hormonal and sweaty teenage boys.

Sakusa had sucked it up and gotten up extra early to secure a spot in the back of the bus, already claiming the corner seat as his own. By sunrise, the bus was filled to capacity, the vehicle swaying precariously from side to side. He was sure that the tires were probably inflated to their limits, ready to burst at any moment.

As the rest of the team filed in, Sakusa curled into himself, but you were nowhere to be seen. Were you not coming? Or were you sensible enough to find another way there instead of willingly entering this lion's den?

No, apparently not. You were just as reckless as always. Sakusa jolted slightly in his seat as you suddenly emerged from between two burly basketball players, yelping softly as the imbalance in your overloaded duffel bag caused you to stumble and fall.

Iizuna, ever the attentive captain, quickly helped you to your feet. He dusted you off and checked for any injuries, keeping you close by his side, practically nestled between his legs as everyone finally settled into their seats. It was going to be a long six-hour ride, and there was no way anyone would be left standing, no matter how cramped it got.

Iizuna glanced apologetically at Sakusa as he asked you to sit next to him, closer to the window. But upon realizing there was no space, Iizuna suggested you sit on his lap instead. In a flash, Sakusa reached out and pulled you in, his hands almost aggressively wrapping around your waist as he tugged you onto his own lap, leaving a dumbfounded Iizuna and the other third years staring in shock.

Beside him, Komori snickered, watching in amusement as you awkwardly adjusted yourself on Sakusa's lap, apologizing profusely as if you had committed some grave offense. Sakusa offered no verbal reassurance, instead silently guiding you to sit more comfortably between his legs as he spread them slightly to accommodate you.

Just as Sakusa was about to ask if you were comfortable, the bus lurched forward and began moving. At that moment, he heard the familiar chime of an incoming text message.

Pulling out his phone, Sakusa saw that Komori had sent him a single line: "Make a move on her."

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa shot his cousin a pointed glare before pocketing his phone again. Of course Komori would be aware of his not-so-subtle crush on their manager. After all, you were the only person aside from Komori that Sakusa allowed to touch him freely. He had even permitted you to feed him once, using the very same chopsticks you had just eaten with yourself.

Sakusa's mind wandered to the time he had gotten injured during practice. The team nurse had already gone home for the day, but luckily, you had the knowledge to tend to his type of injury. He vividly remembered how you looked kneeling between his legs, gently hiking up his shorts to press your fingers against the taut, sinewy muscles of his inner thigh.

He had felt his breath catch as you unknowingly leaned in closer, your exhales ghosting over his sensitive skin. Sakusa had to forcibly banish the less-than-pure thoughts from his mind, knowing that any physical reaction would be glaringly obvious given your proximity.

All the moments he had spent alone with you were precious to him. He treasured each and every one, locking them safely away in his heart. So of course he wanted to make a move, to let you know how much you meant to him.

But as he looked down at your peaceful, sleeping face, Sakusa had to stifle a sigh. Somehow, you had already dozed off, a cute habit of yours whenever you were in a moving vehicle with hours to go before reaching your destination. It was adorable, but at this particular moment, rather frustrating.

Gently tugging his mask down to rest below his nose, Sakusa leaned closer and protectively wrapped his arms around your middle. He held you securely against his chest, ensuring you wouldn't slip off as the bus jostled along the highway. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathed in deeply, the soft scent of lavender from your shampoo flooding his senses and awakening a primal urge deep within him.

Almost unconsciously, Sakusa's hands tightened their grip on you as he nuzzled further into your silky locks. His fingertips skimmed teasingly along the hem of your shirt, dancing just underneath the edge of your jacket. He knew that with the slightest movement, he could brush against the bare skin of your stomach.

The thought alone sent a thrill down his spine. Sakusa couldn't help but wonder if your skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. It had to be. Throwing caution to the wind, he finally slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, grazing them ever so lightly over the warm, supple flesh of your belly.

You shivered slightly in your sleep, your stomach dipping at the barest touch. So you were ticklish. That knowledge made Sakusa's heart swell with adoration. Fuck, could you be any cuter?

Emboldened, Sakusa continued to gently rub your lower abdomen, reveling in the velvety softness. As you relaxed further into his embrace, a hum of contentment rumbled deep in his chest.

Tightening his thighs on either side of you, Sakusa held you firmly in place, determined to savor this fleeting moment of intimacy. His fingers ceased their exploration, now simply brushing lazy circles over the enticing curves of your hips.

As the bus rolled on, Sakusa let himself get lost in the feeling of you in his arms. He knew he should probably feel guilty for indulging in this intimate touch without your knowledge, but the temptation was too great to resist. He had waited so long for a chance like this, to feel your softness under his hands, to breathe in your scent until it filled his lungs.

He promised himself that this stolen moment would be the catalyst he needed to finally confess his feelings for you. He would do it right, court you properly until you understood the depth of his affection. But for now, he would allow himself this one transgression, this fleeting glimpse of what could be.

As he held you close, your gentle exhales tickling his collarbone, Sakusa let himself dream of a future where you were his. His to hold, his to cherish, his to love. And with that sweet fantasy playing behind his closed eyelids, he drifted off to sleep, your name a whispered prayer on his lips.

The glaring sun pierced through the window beside him, rousing Sakusa from his slumber. Sweat drenched his body, causing his shirt to cling uncomfortably to his skin. A soft groan of annoyance escaped his lips as he registered the weight on his lap, only for his eyes to flutter open and realize it was you. With a gentle sigh, Sakusa attempted to adjust your position, but a sudden, muffled moan slipped out as he became acutely aware that something was terribly amiss.

Sakusa froze, his heart pounding frantically against his ribcage as the realization dawned on him - the incessant vibrations of the bus, combined with your warm, pliant body pressed intimately against his lap, had coaxed his treacherous body to stir in a most inconvenient manner.

Sakusa's breath caught in his throat, a heated flush creeping up his neck as he desperately willed his body to behave. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and feel his shameful arousal pressing insistently against your ass.

Clenching his jaw, Sakusa tried to focus on anything else - the passing scenery, the low hum of the engine, the quiet chatter of his teammates. But every subtle shift of your weight, every gentle exhale that tickled his skin, only served to further stoke the embers of his desire.

He cursed silently, his fingers digging into your hips as he fought to maintain control. It was torture of the sweetest kind, having you so close, yet being unable to act on his longing. Sakusa knew he should wake you, put some distance between your bodies before the situation escalated, but a selfish part of him wanted to bask in your warmth just a little longer.

As if sensing his internal struggle, you stirred slightly, your head lolling to the side to rest in the crook of his neck. Your lips brushed against his heated skin, eliciting a shuddering gasp from Sakusa. He bit back a groan, his resolve crumbling with each passing second.

Sakusa swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing against the shell of your ear. He couldn't take it anymore, his cock throbbing painfully in the confines of his pants. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to lose his mind.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sakusa reluctantly untangled his fingers from your hips. He hesitated for a moment, steeling himself before carefully sliding his hand over your clothed pussy.

Sakusa's breath hitched as his fingers brushed over the damp material, his eyes widening in shock. Was this... for him?

Heat coursed through his veins, his head swimming with lust as he dared to apply a little more pressure. The lewd sound of his fingers dragging against your slick panties elicited a choked whimper from him, his cock twitching impatiently beneath you.

Sakusa couldn't believe what he was doing.

Touching you like this, even if you were asleep, was completely unacceptable. He should stop while he still could.

But when his fingers found your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with agonizing precision, you arched into him, your ass grinding down on his cock and sending sparks of pleasure coursing through his veins.

With a low growl, Sakusa tightened his hold on you, his other hand fumbling to reach his zipper. The metal teeth gave way easily, allowing him to tug the stiff material down, his leaking cock finally springing free.

A shuddering sigh of relief escaped his lips, the cool air of the bus doing little to quell the heat raging within him. He was painfully hard, the head of his cock already leaking precum.

With one final glance at your blissful, sleeping face, Sakusa lifted his hips, nudging his cock against your panty-clad core. His pulse was racing, his breaths coming in short, ragged pants as he teased the soaked fabric.

Unable to resist any longer, Sakusa pushed the soaked panties aside, the swollen head of his cock rubbing tortuously against your aching clit. You moaned softly, arching into him, your body instinctively seeking the pleasure he was so willing to give.

His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Sakusa's cock throbbed insistently, his hips rocking slowly against your dripping cunt. The need to bury himself inside you, to feel your velvety walls clenching around him, was almost overwhelming.

He was so close, the tip of his cock poised at your entrance, ready to claim you as his. Just one push and he would be sheathed inside you, buried to the hilt. All he had to do was thrust his hips and you would finally be his.

The bus jerked, throwing you back against him, his cock sliding into your soaked cunt, and Sakusa groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt your warm walls flutter around him. Fuck, you felt better than he had ever imagined.

With a shaky exhale, he sank deeper into your heat, his cock throbbing as you stretched to accommodate him. You felt like heaven, and Sakusa couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy.

Sakusa knew he should be gentle, take his time and savor every delicious inch of you. But the overwhelming desire to claim you, to mark you as his, overpowered any sense of restraint he may have had.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he rutted into you, his cock massaging your aching cunt.

The air was thick with the heady scent of your arousal, the soft, subtle sound of your slick pussy being stretched by his cock filling the space between your bodies.

Sakusa's head fell back against the seat, his jaw clenched as he fucked into you, the coil of pleasure tightening in his gut. He was close, his balls tightening as he felt his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Just as he was about to pull out, his cock twitching with the promise of release, you came with a soft moan, your walls clamping down on him. With a strangled cry, Sakusa buried his face in your neck, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself inside you, painting your walls with his cum.

As the last waves of his orgasm washed over him, Sakusa let out a satisfied sigh, his body slumping against yours. You were still asleep, your soft breaths tickling his skin, and Sakusa couldn't help but smile, his heart swelling with affection.

He knew it was wrong, taking advantage of you like this. But the feeling of euphoria that came from being inside you, knowing that he had claimed you as his own, was worth any guilt that may come later.

As he basked in the afterglow of his release, Sakusa vowed to confess his feelings once he returned home. No matter what, he would make sure you were his, and his alone.

Sakusa's phone chimed again, abruptly pulling him from his reverie. Glancing down, he saw a new message from Komori: "That is not what I meant by making a move." Confused, Sakusa quirked an eyebrow and turned to his side, only to be met with Komori's appalled expression, though that did nothing to deter him from noticing the very prominent hard-on his cousin was sporting.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa smut #sakusa x reader smut

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joels-shitty-puns · 4 months

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Javing Feelings

Javier Peña x Inexperienced!Reader

Summary: You have been dating Javier for six months now, and the two of you finally slept together for the first time as a couple (and your first time ever). However, you can't seem to stop fantasizing about giving a blowjob for the first time. Luckily you have Javi to help you learn.

Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Smut !!!!! Porn with little plot. TBH I wanted just porn but my mind wouldn't let me and gave them a back story. Oral (m receiving, f alluding to). Masturbation (f). Kissing, biting. Nipple/breast kissing/biting. Cursing. Cum eating. Dirty talk. Let me know if I forgot anything!

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. Inexperienced. Reader and Javi work together but reader's job isn't specified.

Word Count: 3.2K

Hi!!! I hope you enjoy this fic. There's some light Spanish in here but my Spanish is rusty. It was never great to begin with, so if it sounds weird pls let me know. I haven't finished watching Narcos and I'm not sure my portrayal of Javi is great. But I wanted to try something new and my mind had this filthy idea lol. This also required me to do a little research (!!!) because I haven't done this personally. Please let me know your thoughts!

_____

It had been six months of dating Javier Peña, and to say you were surprised was an understatement. Surprised at the length of your relationship, surprised at how loving and caring he could be. Surprised at how patient he really was.

It's not that you would ever mean to say anything poorly about his character. You loved your man, and he loved you. But the rumors that used to fly around him at work for being a player and a sex god were hard to ignore. Sleeping with his informants, openly flirting with coworkers, bringing home a new woman every weekend. He was known for frequenting strip clubs and meeting up with prostitutes, and the jokes ran endlessly in the office. Most notably, they came from his partner Steve.

So when he asked you out the first time, you said no. You had never been with a man before, and it certainly wasn't going to be a one night stand with someone like Peña. He wouldn't hit it and quit it with you. You were worth more than that, and you knew it. Even if he did look at you with those big puppy eyes. Even if his chest did peek out under that hot pink shirt that made you drool, or if he licked his plump lips before placing a cigarette in the slot below his perfectly groomed mustache. Even if he did strut through the building like he owned the place, his tight jeans hugging his ass and crotch in all the right places, making you practically salivate.

You wouldn't give in to him. You wouldn't be used for sex. You wouldn't be a fuck buddy. You needed love. You deserved love. Especially for your first time.

Now, that's not to say that you didn't think of him occasionally when you let your hands wander under your covers and below your panties. Didn't think of his lips when you ran your fingers through your arousal, or circled your finger around your clit before sliding down to your entrance. It probably would feel good if he filled it…

But you wouldn't indulge in that fantasy in real life.

_____

So when the two of you were the last ones at the bar following a work happy hour one night, you were surprised to see that he hadn't left with a woman.

He swallowed down the last of his drink before standing up and tossing a bill to the bartender. “I'm going to head home, I'll see you at work,” he grabbed his jacket off the bar.

“Wait…are you okay?” You asked him curiously, though you weren't about to ask ‘why aren't you taking a woman home?’ and make him feel bad.

Javi gave you a look, studying your face as if to wonder why you would possibly care about whether he was okay. You turned him down. You didn't like him, you weren't attracted to him. Despite the friendship you'd developed from working closely together, he obviously didn't mean as much to you as you did to him.

“I'm fine, cariño. Nothing to worry about,” he headed towards the door.

“Wait… Javi?” You grabbed your purse and your coat, throwing down a tip on the bar before following him out the door.

“Clearly something's wrong with you, why don't you talk to me?” You pleaded, stopping within touching-distance of him on the sidewalk. “Did I do something?”

“No,” he sighed. “You didn't do anything wrong. It's just me,” he shook his head, turning to walk away.

“Is this because I said I wouldn't go out with you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

He turned, letting his eyes flash with sadness for only a second before responding. “It's okay, hermosa” he sighed. “You don't feel the same way and that's fine.”

You gave him a confused look, your eyebrows furrowing. “Do you actually have feelings for me, Javi?”

“Of course I have feelings for you cariño, why do you think I asked you out?” he ran his hand through his hair.

“I don't know…” you answered quietly, fiddling with your hands.

“Because I just wanted to fuck?” He spat.

You looked up at him, unsure of what to say. “I didn't think you'd ever actually want me because… I don't know what I'm doing. I'm inexperienced. I've never had sex before, Javi. And I don't want to lose it without building a relationship based on love first.” You whimpered, and briefly noticed a flash of surprise on his face. “And yes, not to be a bitch, but you really do have a reputation for getting around town…” you dropped your hands at your side with a sigh.

“I know,” he groaned. “I do, and I'm guilty of using sex as a coping mechanism. But I really am interested in you, cariño. And if you'd give me a chance, I'll go as slow as you want or need. I’ve spent so many nights trying to fuck away my emotions and it hasn't helped. But,” he ran his hand down his face before continuing. “The first time I saw you, it's like everything felt… easier when I was around you.”

He took a step towards you. “I tried to push the feelings aside, because truthfully it scared the shit out of me. I haven't had those feelings in a very long time, if ever. But pushing it away never worked with you.” He reached for your hand, and you took it.

_____

Ever since that moment, the two of you have been slowly developing a meaningful relationship. From your first date, to your first kiss, Javi has been nothing but sweet and patient. It wasn't until recently when you decided to let him take your virginity.

You were beyond nervous, especially upon seeing the size of him. But he was gentle and loving, making sure you were ready well before he entered you. You couldn't have asked for a nicer first time, or a sweeter man.

But there was still one thing you hadn't tried yet that you had been itching to attempt.

It's something you had thought of before, while watching porn or daydreaming. A fantasy you considered while developing your feelings on Javi and imagining him. But when you finally saw his cock with your own eyes for the first time, it was like a spell spread over you and you wouldn't be able to expel it until you gave in to your desires.

So when Javi told you he'd be coming over to spend the weekend, you couldn't wait to play out your fantasy.

_____

Javier opened the door to your apartment, using the key you gave him last month after you first exchanged I-Love-Yous. Dropping his bag on the kitchen bar, he strolled over to you, pulling you into a deep kiss, letting his hands graze over your ass with a squeeze. “Mi amor,” he whispered, nibbling your ear.

“Javi…” you replied breathlessly already. He pulled away, giving you a mischievous look with his raised brow. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for you to be putty in his hands, but he could tell something had gotten into you today.

“What's got you all worked up, querida?” He kissed your lips again, asking for entrance to your mouth, to which you obliged. “Cat got your tongue?” He practically purred, scraping his teeth against your tongue before gently biting your lip.

You moaned into his mouth before pulling away just enough to whisper. “I wanna try something, Javi…”

He kissed you deeper, then drew back to look into your eyes. “What do you want to try, mi paloma?” (My dove)

Based on his response, you could only imagine his mind was assuming you had chaste fantasies of kissing him in public, or sex in a slightly more adventurous position than the missionary you started with.

But for the first time, you surprised him when you whispered in his ear, “please, let me suck your dick, Javi.”

He froze, swallowing thickly, letting you see his Adam's apple bob. His eyes were wide as saucers. “You..” he stumbled over his words.

“Mmhm…”, you began to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

“You don't have to do that, cariño.” His tongue darted out over his lips, the surprise making his mouth dry.

“Please, Javi,” you whined. “I want to. I can't stop thinking about it. Especially after I saw you on our first night together. I want it so badly. Let me taste you. Let me please you.”

“Especially? You mean you had thought of it before we made love?” He asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Ever since I saw you in those tight pants the first day we met,” you kissed his lips, finally unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pulling it down his shoulders as the two of you stumbled into the bedroom.

“Fuck. Dirty girl,” he hissed, removing your shirt and kissing you, all the while wrapping his arms around your waist to seamlessly unhook your bra. His hands swept over your sides before returning to your chest to cup your breasts.

Javi’s kisses traced from your lips down to your neck before finally taking your nipple between his lips. He gently sucked on it, swirling his tongue around and giving gentle nibbles to your breasts.

You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding them down just enough for his cock to release from the confines and bounce to attention. He was already hard and waiting, his tip drooling precum.

“Sit,” you told him, pushing down on his shoulder and directing him towards the edge of the bed.

“Sí, señorita,” he answered, easily caving to your demands and removing the rest of his pants from his legs.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spread his thighs apart, giving you ample space to work with, his heavy cock bouncing against his torso with every movement.

Your mouth watered as you sank to your knees on the carpet and crawled over between his legs, the space you wished to live in. Running your hands up his thighs, you spread him even further.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, sending a wave of lust through Javi’s body before you spoke. “I've never done this before Javi. You may need to help guide me.”

Javi looked to the sky in silent praise as you turned your attention back to his waiting cock. You were now eye to eye with it, and slowly you moved your hand to wrap around his length. You gently pulled his foreskin down to reveal his most sensitive area, causing Javier to tremble at the contact. But it wasn't until you began to stroke him while placing a gentle kiss to his leaking tip that his body jerked forward in need. You gave a light lick, swirling your tongue around him before taking him in your mouth completely.

The taste was new. His precum tasted salty and slightly sweet, but mostly you tasted clean skin and saliva. His scent is what really took over your senses. The natural scent that made your mouth water the first time you smelled him. The aroma that distinctly meant… Javi.

He wore a cologne that made you swoon, kept strong enough to fill your nostrils, but not overpowering to be used in lieu of a shower. Javi always smelled nice. Clean and freshly shaved, he had a light scent of soap, aftershave, shaving cream, and men's deodorant. The lingering scent of shampoo. The sweet smell of nicotine and a whispered bite of alcohol. Leather from his jacket. The cool intensity of his mint toothpaste and gum that always seemed to nip at your nose when he spoke.

Even when he had just run across the city to chase a criminal, his sweat and musk drew you in like a feral animal. The way his pink shirt clung to his soaked back, chest, and arms; the way his wet hair fell onto his forehead. Your eyes wanted to live on his skin. As much as you tried to ignore Javi those first months of knowing each other, everything about him made you want to jump his bones. His persona oozed sexual appeal and that scared you. That made you want to run for the hills.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, head tilting back while his hips jerked upwards of their own accord. You removed your lips with a sucking pop and once again ran your hands over his thighs. You kept reaching, wrapping your arms around his back and grabbing the part of his ass that wasn't seated with a squeeze.

“Does this feel good, Javi?” You leaned in, licking the underside of his penis from the base to the head, stopping at the tight frenulum tissue and kissing, just like you would his lips.

“Fuck, yes, mierda, keep going,” Javi whined, jerking his hips forward, his tip brushing your waiting lips.

“Tell me how you want it, Javi,” you took the head in your mouth, licking and sucking.

“Just like that. Fuck. Swirl your tongue around,” he demanded.

You obliged, swirling your tongue around the head and finally the leaking tip, your lips still surrounding him. You sunk down further, taking more of him in your mouth and licking the veins on his underside as you slowly drifted further, his tip reaching the back of your throat.

“Fuck, yes,” Javi whimpered, babbling a string of curses as you began to work him in your mouth, up and down, your hand meeting the rhythm of your mouth. Saliva dropped from your mouth as you worked faster, Javier groaning in response. You went to wipe your chin with your other hand, only to have your wrist grabbed. “Leave it,” he hissed. “You look so fucking sexy like this, baby. Drunk on my cock, messy and blown out. Fuck, you're so good,” he rambled.

You smiled around his dick, continuing your movements and letting out a moan of your own pleasure. Finally you had him in your mouth and it was everything you imagined. This wouldn't be the last time, and you could hardly wait to taste his release.

Your hips jerked forward, pussy clenching on air, and you reached down with your other hand to rub frantic circles on your clit. Your eyes squeezed closed as you continued to play with both him and now yourself. Whimpers and moans fell from your lips and his, Javi lifting his head from the back of his neck to look down at you.

“Shit. Baby, are you touching yourself too? Pussy so desperate to be filled when my cock is in your mouth?” His voice rumbled, deep and primal, yet pained and desperate all the same.

“Mmhm,” you choked, trying to take him deeper than your throat would allow.

Javi reached out, cupping the back of your head as you took him as far as you could, stroking the rest of him with the hand not between your own legs. Your eyes squeezed tighter, tears brimming as you pushed too far again. “Gentle mi amor, you'll hurt yourself. Too big for that tight throat of yours,” he cooed, gripping your hair tighter. Saliva continued to drip from your mouth as you worked him faster, matching the rhythm with the hand on your clit. You inserted two fingers into your pussy, pumping a few times before alternating between your sensitive clit again.

Both Javi's and your hips jerked forward at their own accord, your bodies so desperate for release, you were both right on the cusp of teetering over the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, Javi's curses continuing, yet the slick noise of wet skin from your mouth and hands prevailed as the loudest in the room. Squelching and sucking filled the air, an orchestra of filthy euphony.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby, where do you want it?” Javi strained to ask, tension lining his jaw.

You removed him just enough to reply, “my mouth, please, Javi, let me taste you.” Immediately you returned your attention to the task at hand.

“Shit,” he groaned as you pumped the length of his cock that didn't meet your lips. His hips jerked and release spilled onto your tongue, salty and sweet. With his climax, you fell over your pleasure point as well, body shaking and tensing, your thighs clenching around your fingers as you frantically rocked against the air. You let out a pained squeal around his cock as you came in your hand.

His hips began to slow, the last of his salty release dripping onto your tongue. With a final suck, you removed your mouth with a pop and opened your mouth for Javi. White, creamy release dripped from your tongue onto his thigh and quickly you closed your mouth with a giggle, swallowing him and licking the spilled cum from his leg.

Meeting your eyes with his, Javi looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes dark and hair disheveled. He panted, and despite having just finished, you could still see the fire of lust in his stare. You imagined you looked the same, drunk on his cock and his release, your own orgasm having just subsided as well. You were somehow still hungry for more, and it seemed you were never fully quenched with Javi around. You'd always want more, no matter how much he gave you.

Javi grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap to straddle him. Though he was softening under you, your hips still jerked at the contact. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss.

You pulled away, looking at him a moment before asking “you don't mind kissing me after I just had your cum in my mouth?”

Javi looked at you as if you spoke another language before realizing you meant it. “Fuck no, baby that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I don't mind tasting myself on your tongue. Ever,” he kissed you again, deeper this time. His tongue swirled with yours and you tasted his cum and his saliva, his scent filled your nose, and his body encompassed yours. Everything around you was Javi.

“I don't mind tasting myself on your lips either,” you pulled away, whispering shyly before going in for another kiss.

Javi pecked your lips, pulling away and raising his brow. “Oh? No?” He teased you. Your cheeks heated and you began to look away, but he lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “We can make that happen,” he growled, kissing your lips and picking you up from his lap. He manhandled you like a sack of flour, easily tossing you to the bed with ease as he settled between your legs, his mouth inches from your waiting pussy.

“Ready for round two?” He smirked, nipping your thigh.

“Always, with you Javi,” you whined, and he dove in, pleasuring you the way you did him.

You were never surprised at his sexual prowess, but once again you were pleasantly amazed at his level of care and love he devoted to you. You didn't regret waiting, though you were glad he was willing to wait with you. The new experiences with him just grew better and better with each day.

If you told yourself months ago that you would be in bed, in love, happily wrapped in the arms of Javier Peña, you would have laughed at the thought. But then again, life is full of surprises.

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pawnshopbleus · 3 months

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Miller's Girl - Part One

Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!College Student!Reader Very Loosely based off of the new movie, Miller's Girl, starring Jenna Ortega and Martin Freeman

Summary - Your landlord decides to raise the rent in your studio apartment the day you are fired from your job. In need of money, you sign up for a babysitting service your friend suggested. You didn’t expect to get an offer so quickly, and you also didn’t expect to come from your professor.

Series contains - cursing, mature language, teacher x student relationship, age gap, smut, fluff, angst, non beta read chapters and everything else I forgot to mention

College, no outbreak, and modern AU

The record store in downtown Austin was filled to the brim with people excited to have their items signed by their favorite band. The crowd was a mix of teen girls with their dads and middle-aged men on their lonesome. The band in question was some underground band from the eighties that you had never heard of.

Your co-worker, Emma, was in charge of keeping the crowd in check while you were manning the register. This wasn’t the first time you had done these signings. In the two years that you have worked here, hundreds of artists have come in and out of those doors. They attract their loyal fans to the store which can give it more publicity and customers.

Your eyes scan the crowd. It was still pretty full, but the line had stopped trickling out of the doors and onto the sidewalk. You look over at Emma to see her standing with her weight on her left hip and her arms crossed. If you didn’t know her, you would have thought she looked like a bitch, but in all actuality, she is the nicest girl you know.

The doors open and the bell above it rings. Your boss comes in and surveys the store. His bald head nods as he skims it. Nothing had been stolen and the customers looked happy. When his eyes land on you, your heart drops. You know that look. It was the same look he gave your other co-worker that look right before he fired him. You cross your fingers under the counter and plaster a fake smile on your face.

Your entire world looks like it’s in slow motion. Your boss steps closer. Each step he takes makes your heart thump in your chest. The sound his thousand-dollar shoes make on the floor sounds like the bombs used on the battlefield.

You don’t know if you either blacked out or passed out, but the next thing you knew, you were in the staff room gathering your things. This would be the last time you would ever step foot in this record store as an employee, but that should have been the least of your worries. You needed this job. Without it, you won’t be able to afford rent. Luckily, you were smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship for the university you attended, but there were still other expenses that needed to be paid.

The hallway of your apartment building seemed colder than it usually is. The usual shushing of dogs who aren’t supposed to be in the apartment is replaced with static. The crickets weren’t even chirping. The sound of your breathing brought you out of your tiny rut. At least you were still alive.

The pink paper in front of your door made you stop in your tracks. You could read what it said from where you stood. ‘Rent will be increased to a thousand dollars a month’ was typed out in Times New Roman. Only pretentious bitches type in Times New Roman.

You were sure that this was the work of the couple that bought the building six months ago. They promised the residents who lived there that the rent would stay the same, but the promise had just been broken. You were worried for yourself, sure, but you were also worried about the elderly people who couldn’t afford to go anywhere else.

You wish nothing but the worst for the new landlords and make your way into your studio apartment. It’s a mess, just the way you left it this morning. Your cat, Bill, lays outstretched on your couch as if he were the one who just worked eight hours only to get fired at the end of it.

You flop on your couch and sigh. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to do. You just got fired and your rent got increased. If you can’t pay rent then you’ll become another homeless college student. Just another statistic to the state and a burden to the university.

Your phone chimes and you almost cry with joy as you see your best friend’s caller ID flash across the screen.

You pick up the phone and she begins talking immediately. She goes on and on about some boy she saw a the mall. He had icy blonde hair, but his roots were showing which meant that he wasn’t a natural blonde. This was a good distraction for about a few minutes until you realized that you wouldn’t be able to afford to go to the mall anymore.

Your hot tears dribbled down your cheeks and fell onto your chest.

“Are you okay?”

“Cherry, I just got fired from my fucking job because my boss wants to buy more fucking shoes and my rent just got fucking increased because my landlords are fucking bastards!” You say through tears. “I think I just heard you say ‘fucking’ in that one sentence more times than I have heard you say it in your entire life,” Cherry laughs.

“It’s not funny, Cherry. I'm going to be homeless!”

“Stop being dramatic. Sign up for flowers for one dot com. It’s a babysitting website where single parents find a babysitter for their children. My cousin did it for about a year and made more money than she does at her regular job.”

For the first time in a very long time, Cherry gave you actual good advice. She gave you a solution to all of your problems.

“Thanks, Cher, bye.” You hang up before Cherry has a chance to say goodbye.

Your phone drops onto the couch and bounces off, falling on the floor. You suck in air through your teeth and grab your phone off the floor. You should be more gentle with it because you can’t afford to get a new one if it breaks.

Flowers for one dot com was a simple website. It got straight to the point. No fancy explanation of ‘who are we’ or ‘why do we do this.’ You include the fact that you are certified by the Red Cross in CPR and that you are a senior at The University of Texas at Austin. You also add that you are majoring in architecture and the fact that you want to become an interior designer.

Your profile is up and running in an hour. You look over it again and close your laptop. Your life is falling apart piece by piece, but maybe you should clean up a bit.

The dirty clothes that were being neglected in the corner of your room are now in your hamper. You can see the hardwood floor that you’ll be paying a thousand dollars a month for.

Your phone chimes once again, but this time it’s an email from the website. You almost drop your phone again as you read who it’s from.

Joel Miller, Professor of Architectural Studies at The University of Texas at Austin.

I'm the pretentious bitch that writes in Times New Roman 🙋🏿‍♀️

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou

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btsficsandsuch · 8 months

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You Better Figure It Out- Part 2

Yoongi can’t figure out a way to prove to you that he never cheated. When you hear stories about his encounters with other women it starts to make you question your decision.

Part 1 Here

The plane ride back home was difficult. You tried your best to hide your tear stained face but after a few hours you just stopped caring. People stared and whispered, but your mind and your heart were so full of other things that it didn’t even matter to you. Yoongi had called you 16 times by the time your plane took off. You lost count of how many text messages he’d sent. Some of them apologizing, most of them begging. You had been cheated on in the past and Yoongi knew that too which is why you were extra hurt.

You wanted to believe he didn’t cheat on you but how could you? Your last boyfriend managed to hide his infidelity from you for six months and the two of you lived together and even worked for the same business. You and Yoongi spent a significant amount of time apart so it would be super easy for him to hide it from you. You thought of all the times he left for tour and you couldn’t go because of work and you wondered what he did when he was alone after the show or all the times he was locked in his studio all night and told you not to come by because he was busy. Now you were wondering exactly what he meant by “busy”.

When you finally made it back to your apartment the first thing you wanted to do was take a hot shower. Opening the bedroom door you were hit with a wave of disgust when you looked at the bed. The bed that you and Yoongi spent countless nights in cuddling, talking, showing each other love. What if he brought other women home and cheated on you with them in that bed? Suddenly you felt dirty being in that apartment. It didn’t feel like home any more. You grabbed another bag and packed some clean clothes. You were going to go stay with a friend for a while until you could find a new place. Luckily Yoongi wasn’t going to be home for a while so you didn’t have to worry about getting all of your things out just yet.

Over the course of the next few weeks Yoongi still called and texted you every day. Then you started getting texts from the boys asking you what was going on because Yoongi was inconsolable since you left. You knew things were serious when you got a voicemail from Bang PD letting you know that he was starting to get really worried about him. Part of you wanted to call and make sure he was okay at least but you ultimately decided against it. He brought this on himself and it’s not your responsibility to fix it. If things weren’t stressful enough for you, you still hadn’t found somewhere to live and the tour was almost over. Yoongi would be home in a few days and you weren’t sure what you were going to do.

You just arrived home from work when you heard your phone going off again. You went to delete the message assuming it was just Yoongi again but stopped when you saw it was Namjoon asking if the two of you could meet up now that they were home from the tour. You were hesitant but he promised no Yoongi so you gave in and you agreed to meet him the next day.

“Y/N it’s good to see you. How are you?”, Namjoon said while giving you a hug. You smiled, “I’m alright. How was the rest of the tour?” He sighed, “Tiring to say the least but we love it.” There was a long silence before he continued, “So you probably know why I wanted to talk so soon after getting back.” You nodded realizing that they would’ve just got in this morning. He continued, “Yoongi didn’t tell us the full story. He just said he messed up and he doesn’t know how to fix it. All I know is he’s not been the same Yoongi since you left.” You weren’t sure how much you wanted to involve him. At the end of the day this was between you and Yoongi but you thought maybe he might know something. “Namjoon, I want you to be 100% honest with me. Has he ever cheated on me?” You decided to give him more context before he answered, “He accused me of cheating and then admitted that he cheated on me. When I proved that I didn’t cheat he tried to backtrack and tell me that he never cheated. I don’t know if I believe him.”

Namjoon was quiet for a while like he was trying to decide how to answer. Finally he spoke, “Look Y/N I’m not with him 24/7 so I can’t tell you for sure.” You felt your heart sink. He continued, “But I can tell you there was this one time while we were on tour we had met a group of girls. We were all hanging out and drinking. People started getting touchy with each other. This one girl in particular really wanted Yoongi. I mean she was all over him.” The thought of some other girl all over him made you sick. You weren’t sure what the point of this story was and why he was telling you it. He continued almost like he could read your mind, “Yoongi kept pushing her away and telling her he wasn’t interested. She was persistent. Next thing I know her top is flying across the room and she’s straddling him in just her skirt and bra.” You’d had enough, “Joon what is the point of this story?” He chuckled, “Let me finish. He immediately shoved her off of his lap and left the room. Later that night Jimin found him asleep in his bed with his laptop open showing a slideshow of photos of you and he was hugging that tshirt of yours that he brings with him anytime we leave the country. My point is he could’ve easily had that girl if he wanted but he didn’t. Instead he laid in bed staring at pictures of you and clutching your shirt like it was the last thing he had left of you.” You had forgotten all about the blue tshirt you had gotten on a family vacation when you were 17. It was one of your favorites and Yoongi had accidentally packed it with his belongings before going on tour one time. He shyly told you how he had slept with it every night because it felt like you were there with him. Ever since then you let him keep it and it became like a comfort blanket for him when he was away.

Namjoon brought you back to the present as he continued, “Like I said Y/N, I can’t guarantee what Yoongi does when I’m not there but from what I do see I personally don’t think he’d cheat on you. The opportunity has presented itself several times over the years but he never acts on it. Ultimately though it’s up to you to decide if you want to move forward or end the relationship now. But please at least talk to him either way. We are really concerned about his well being right now.”

Even though you were more conflicted now you thanked Namjoon for talking with you and went on your way back home. You tried to clear your head on the walk back. On one hand you really believed that he wouldn’t cheat based on what Namjoon said but like he also said he’s not with him all the time. He was right about talking to him though. You knew that had to be done even if it was just to discuss moving your things out. You sent a quick text to him asking if the two of you could talk back at the apartment. Almost instantly you received a text back letting you know he was already there so you changed direction and made your way over.

You let yourself into the apartment for the first time in weeks. It felt even less like home than it did when you last left. You found Yoongi standing at the kitchen counter making two cups of coffee. You couldn’t believe how terrible he looked. His skin looked of a grayish color. He had dark bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in months. It looked like he had lost close to 20lbs since you last saw him. He looked up when he noticed you standing in the room. Slowly he walked over and handed you a cup of coffee, “I made it just like you like it.” You softly smiled and took the mug from him before sitting down. He stood staring for a moment like he was unsure where he should sit. Eventually he settled on the chair next to you.

“How have you been Y/N? Are you taking care of yourself?”, he asked. “I’m doing alright. How have you been?”, you inquired. He was biting his lip. Before he could speak the tears started flowing from his eyes. He started hyperventilating and shaking. Instinctively you reached for his hand, “Yoongi breathe. Just calm down and breathe. When is the last time you ate something or even slept?” He shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t really care to do either any more.” “Yoongi you have to take care of yourself. Please. I hate seeing you like this.” You got up and checked the cabinets to find something to eat. Thankfully there were some instant noodles you were able to heat up. Setting the bowl in front of him you spoke, “Please eat. It’s the least you can do for me.” You watched as he finally started to eat the noodles. It was almost like you could see some life immediately brought back into his body.

You let him finish his meal and calm down a little before you decided to move forward with the reason you were there. “How do we move forward from this?”, you asked. He stared out of the window, “I don’t know Y/N. There’s no way for me to prove to you that I didn’t cheat. I love you more than life itself but I can’t force you to forgive me. What I did was disgusting and I broke your trust. I understand if you don’t want to continue this relationship any more.”, You sat in silence for a while before finally speaking up, “I agree Yoongi. I can’t trust you any more and I don’t think I can continue this.” He winced at your words before solemnly nodding. “Please take care of yourself Yoongi.”, you whispered before making your way to the front door.

You were finally able to find an apartment you could afford even though Yoongi had offered to let you have the apartment you shared. It didn’t feel right so you declined. You hadn’t heard from Yoongi since you stopped over to get the rest of your things. He still looked miserable but he didn’t say much. He helped you carry down some of your boxes to your car before disappearing to your once shared bedroom.

It had been several weeks since you heard from him when one day you got a text from him saying he had a box of your things at his studio. He said you could stop by any time and pick it up. You told him you’d stop by one day after work and that was the end of the conversation. It’s was a Friday evening and you were able to sneak out of work a little early so you thought it would be the perfect time to go get your stuff from his studio. You made the familiar walk to the building and then made your way past security and up his room.

Standing in front if his door you were about to knock when the door suddenly swung open and a woman came storming out slamming the it behind her. “Seriously, he already moved on?”, you thought feeling your heart break. “Oh are you here to see Yoongi? Well good luck. I swear I could walk in there naked and he wouldn’t even notice.”, she said dripping with sarcasm. You were pretty speechless not really sure what was going on. For some reason this woman thought you wanted to have this conversation so she continued, “Some guys are so blind or maybe just dumb. I’ve been trying to get with him for years. He always shot me down saying he had a girlfriend. I’d say what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He still wouldn’t give in and told me he’d never do that to her. Whoever his girlfriend was must’ve been something special. Then I find out that they recently broke up. So I’m like okay cool. Now is my chance but he’s still rejecting me claiming he’s still in love and trying to get her back.” She eventually walked away still rambling. You were in disbelief at what you just heard. How could someone be so selfish?

You knocked on his door and waited for him to answer. When he did you greeted him with a slight smile, “I just met your friend. She seems nice.” He chuckled and invited you in. “So what’s her deal? It seems like she’s been giving you a hard time for a while.”, you asked. “That’s just Mae. She’s been working here for like three years. Her dads one of the big shots so she gets away with a lot. She’s been flirting with me and making advances on me for years. I think I’m the first person to tell her no in her life so she doesn’t like it.”, he said with a laugh. You began thinking back to the story that Namjoon told you about how Yoongi had rejected the girl while he was on tour and he also kept rejecting this Mae girl. You started wondering if maybe he didn’t ever cheat on you. He’s clearly had plenty of chances but has always turned them down.

You were shaken out of this thoughts when Yoongi spoke, “Your box is by the door. There’s some notebooks and supplies. Your favorite fuzzy socks are in there. I know you’ll want those back. Your favorite tshirt is also in there. I forgot it was still in my luggage.” You looked over and saw your blue vacation shirt that Yoongi always took with him on tour peaking out of the box. You were fidgeting with the sleeve of your blouse wondering if you’ll regret this next action or not, “Yoongi, you really never cheated on me did you?” He looked up at you, “Y/N I swear on my career, on my family, on my life itself. I never cheated on you. When I saw you at that pub and I thought you were getting that guys number I was hurt and scared and angry. I always expected you to leave me one day because I’m not the best at this relationship thing and I thought that day had finally come. I wanted you to feel the hurt that I was feeling. I said the one thing that I knew would hurt you the most and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

You could feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes. You missed him so much. “Y/N you can say no if you want but can I hug you?” You nodded and he slowly wrapped his arms around you. It had been so long since you felt a relief like that. No one could hold you like him, comfort you like him, or love you like him. “Please give me another chance. I promise that nothing like this will ever happen again. You’ll never doubt my commitment or love for you.”, he whispered to you.

You pulled away to look into his eyes. It felt like years since you’d done that. His eyes were filled with sincerity. “I’m not saying I forgive you and I’m not saying that things will go right back to the way they were because it’s definitely going to take time but I do think that if we work on this we could repair our relationship.”, you said. Yoongi smiled, “I would really like that.” He took your hand in his, “If you like you could stay here for a little bit. I’ll order us some food. It’ll be like a repeat of our first date.” You thought back to that night and chuckled, “Yeah that sounds nice. Just please don’t spill your drink on me out of nervousness this time.” He laughed as he started ordering the food from his phone. You went over to the box of your things on the floor and took out the blue tshirt. You walked to Yoongi’s computer chair and laid the shirt over the back before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He looked back at the shirt and then up at you before smiling. You took a seat on the couch and continued to watch him as he pondered over what to order. You knew he was the one that broke your heart to begin with but you also knew deep down that he’d be the one that could slowly stitch it back together.

@anon-1112

#bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts yoongi #bts fluff #bts imagines #min yoongi

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againstacecilia · 5 months

Text

Because You Left

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Rating: This one's for anybody, but the whole blog is 18+ for sure.

Warnings: Lovers to strangers, fighting, angst, swearing, both of them are probably idiots but *shrug*

A/N: Holy wow it's been a minute! I've had this one in the vault for a while but just never did anything with it. There's a happy ending as well, so I can post that if there's interest, but I'm pushing myself to not tie everything up so nicely and let the tough emotions sit so you get ✨angst✨. We also don't need to talk about how I'm working through some things about an old flame with this one soooo hush. Unbeta'd, no use of y/n.

It’s an unusually quiet night on base, lamplight flickering through the hallways and muffled laughter sneaking under doors as people take advantage of the stillness. Your footsteps echo loudly, an intrusion in the calm as you hurry to your post, breathless by the time you arrive.

“Sorry I’m late,” you begin, not looking at your watch partner, “I couldn’t find-”

“Not like you to be late, Captain,” a familiar voice interrupts.

Your stomach flops as you meet Poe’s gaze. “I… I’m sorry, Commander.” Your words falter, the memory of your last encounter momentarily clouding your mind…

“Find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” Poe says quietly at the door, not looking at you, “I’m busy.”

“Of course you are. Seems like you’ve been busy a lot these days. Busy with everything but finding time for me.”

Poe doesn’t say anything as he turns his back to you, pressing the button to close the door to his quarters. The click of the door sliding into place echoes deep in your bones as you’re left alone in the hallway…

That was months ago. You’d immediately requested a service change to a new squadron and done everything in your power to avoid seeing him again. Night shifts and dangerous recon runs, anything to make sure your paths never crossed again.

“No need to apologize, I won’t tell anyone.” Poe winks at you with a grin. “So, it’s been a while, how have you been?”

Shaking the memory from your mind, you begin preparing for your watch. “Fine. You?”

“I’ve been okay.” He watches you gather your things, eyes trained on your every move.

“Mmm,” you respond non-committedly, shoving a flashlight and spare battery pack for your blaster into your bag before tugging the straps over your shoulders. “Well, I should be off. Being late and all.”

“Actually, we should be off. Your shift buddy called out so I’m his replacement.”

Fantastic. “Commander Dameron on night patrol?”

“Everyone pitches in where they’re needed,” he responds, hoisting his pack.

Six hours on watch with Poe was the last thing you wanted to do, but he was right. Everyone was expected to, and for the most part did, pitch in where they were needed. If this was how you were expected to help the Resistance then you’d grit your teeth and get through it.

“Let’s get going then.” You’re out the door and making your way to the watchtower before he can reprimand you for speaking to your superior like that.

Luckily, the calm seems to be holding and the watchtower is nearly serene in the clear night. Stars twinkle above you in constellations you were still learning and the breeze was a song you never tired of. Lost in the ebb and flow of nature around you, you don’t notice the time pass.

Poe’s voice breaks the silence for the first time in hours. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nod, keeping your eyes on the wilderness beyond the base.

“What happened? With us?”

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and the breeze seems to stop at the question. Like the whole base was waiting on bated breath for your response. “We just… Grew apart. That’s all.”

You hear Poe shift in his seat. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Not entirely.”

“What do you want me to say, Poe?” “I want you to look at me and tell me the truth.”

“I told you the truth.” Your clipped response is bitter on your tongue and you keep your body facing away from him. “We grew apart and the war got in the way of everything else.”

“This isn’t just some distance thing, tell me what happened.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

“You’re still not telling me the truth. I know you, why did you suddenly-”

“Because you left!” The words rip out of you and you finally stand, whirling around to face him. “Because you left me, Poe.”

Indignation blazes across his face. “I never left you, not any longer than a mission required of me!”

“That’s not what I mean!” Both your voices are too loud for the quiet watch, but you don’t care. Emotions flare and dance in your veins, demanding to be released. “You stopped giving a damn and then kicked me out of your room and told me you were busy. You stopped fighting for me. For us. You left one day and never really came back.”

The silence seems to echo as your words fade from the lone tower, open to the night sky. “I’d been trying for weeks at that point, Poe, and you kept pushing me away. So I stopped trying because you obviously didn’t want me around!”

“When have I ever said I don’t want you around?” He’s also standing, stepping into your orbit with his hands extended to his sides.

“You didn’t have to say it.” Stomping away from him to the rail of the tower, you lean against the weathered wood, “It was painfully clear.”

He follows you and grips your shoulders, spinning you to face him. “I’ve been out of my damn mind trying to be a leader in all of this. You know what Leia expects of me, you know what’s at stake-”

“Of course I do!” You shake his hands off you and push him away, “But I thought it would be exactly because of those reasons that you’d give a fuck about me. I thought, for a moment, that I was one of those things you were fighting for.”

“You were! You still are, and you always have been!”

“Just stop.” Your voice is trembling with rage and pain; searing white flames lick through the marrow of your bones. “Whether you meant to or not, you made it very clear where your priorities are and I’ve made my peace with the fact that this,” a sweeping gesture to the sleeping base below, “is your priority. Not me. And I shouldn’t be. I mean, hell, what am I compared to the entire Resistance?”

Needing to put any amount of distance between you, you make your way to the other side of the tower and settle into a chair, facing away from Poe. The noise from the breeze and insects comes back into focus as you curl your legs against your chest.

After a moment, Poe’s voice reaches you from across the tower, “Do you know why I told you I was busy that night? Why I told you to go sleep somewhere else?”

You don’t respond, hugging your legs tighter as the anger starts to fizzle into sadness.

“I told you to leave because Leia had informed me that we had just lost an entire squadron to an ambush in the Mid-Rim. I had gotten some intel that there was going to be an unprotected shipment of weapons in the area and that group was sent out to get them. It was a trap, and my bad information got them all killed.” Poe stayed away from you through his explanation, his voice drifting by more quietly with each word. “None of them made it home. Because of me.”

The urge to go to him, to wrap him in your arms and comfort him, nearly overwhelms you for a moment before he continues. “I told you to leave because I didn’t want you, of all people, to see me break. I shattered that night, and when the sun rose and I realized that I’d made a huge mistake, you had already transferred and I didn’t see you again for weeks.”

Silent tears fall from your eyes at his admissions; the truths he laid in front of you. “So I let you go,” he whispers, “because it felt like some sort of karmic justice to lose you for what happened to those fighters.”

You find your voice again and say, “I’m sorry about the mission, I didn’t know… But that doesn’t make any of this better. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you didn’t even try.”

“You haven’t let me try.” His quiet voice begins to turn to ice.

“How was I supposed to know you even wanted to? You knew where my quarters were, you have access to all my orders; you could’ve come talk to me at any time and yet you didn’t.”

Heavy footsteps move away toward the edge of the tower. Without turning, you can picture his face in the starlight: his eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, muscles in his jaw and neck jumping as he clenches his teeth. “You said I didn’t try. That I made it obvious I didn’t want you around. Well, Captain,” he spits your rank into the night, “you made it pretty clear as well that you didn’t want to be near me. Switching squads and dodging me at every turn.”

“You have no right-” you begin, but Poe cuts you off.

“I have every right!” His yell echoes off the gently rolling hills surrounding the base. “I have every damn right when you throw accusations in my face like this. You wanna talk about someone leaving or giving up? How about we talk about how all it took was one bad night for me for you to completely push me away?”

Rage begins simmering in your gut again, bringing you to your feet and back across the tower. “You never gave me any indication that you were dealing with more than the normal amount of stress. I tried everything I could to ease that stress for you; bringing you food when you were drowning in paperwork in your room, letting you fuck me every night even when you couldn’t look me in the eye, ignoring every red flag just to try and prove to you that I was there through it all. And it was never enough.”

“Well, I guess that’s our answer, then.” Poe keeps his gaze locked with yours, eyes gleaming with fury and sadness.

Your heart shatters. “I… I guess it is.”

“I’ll send someone else up here.” Poe lingers for a heartbeat, fists clenched at his side, before turning and heading down the stairs, leaving you alone.

You stare out over base, watching Poe’s form disappear from view in the night, each step a death knell in your bones. Any future you daydreamed about fades with each passing breath. By the time Poe’s replacement makes it up the tower, the early morning wind has dried your tears and frozen a thick casing of ice around your heart.

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron angst #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fan fiction #poe dameron fan fic #poe dameron imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fan fiction #star wars fan fic

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Doctor's Orders

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smut

I giggled as well as snuck my way through the busy port streets. I wanted to make sure I wasn't spotted but also not look suspicious. It was a very thin line to walk.

I reached my destination of the port hospital ignored the brightly lit entrance and went around the side to sneak in the side door which as usual was left unlocked.

This was the typical Tuesday night nowadays and I found it as thrilling as ever as I snuck through the hospital luckily many were busy and didn't pay me much mind as I found my way to the second floor to the familiar door. I stopped In Front of it fixing my dress and making sure I looked as I wanted to before I knocked on the door giving it the agreed one tap, break, one tap, break two Taps. I was barely waiting a minute as the door slid open and there leant on the doorframe stood Doctor Jack Dawkins one of the two young doctors for the port hospital in his usual well-worn clothes but his waistcoat and jacket gone revealing his suspenders as he leant his hip on the door frame and seemed smug to see me “what took you so long?” He chuckled taking my hand and quickly ushering me inside shutting the door with his foot

“Well I had to go-” I began but he held my jaw and kissed me before I even got a chance to say my excuse our kisses were rather passionate even for only four days since we were last alone together and he tugged down my hood as he pulled away

“I missed you babydoll”

“I missed you too Jack darling” I giggled giving his suspenders a playful snap “It hadn't been that long had it?’

“Well a week since I've had my babydoll locked up in my room with me”

“But only four days since someone came sneaking into my bedroom window” I giggled going across his room to slip off my cloak and hood fully

“How do you know that was me?” He chuckled

“The four hours' worth of bed-breaking sex that followed clued me in” I giggled

“Did it now?” he smirked coming and wrapping his arms around my waist

“It did yes” I smiled wrapping my own around his neck and playing with his hair a little

“Well, I don't know what kind of suitor boys you have climbing in your window?”

“Only one. who I keep telling is welcome to use the front door. My father is away six days a week Jack I really don't know what you’re worried about”

“I happen to like the secretive approach. Don't know what sort of spies your father may have planted between the halls to try and see where his daughter keeps sneaking off to”

“He doesn't care. He's just frustrated that a certain someone has yet to deliver on promises”

“I'm working on it,” he smirked rubbing his nose on mine “Why do you always wear these dresses when you visit? You know how much I… enjoy getting to, ravish my babydoll in one of her expensive dresses”

“I figured less layers. Fewer buttons and clasps. Quicker to get off” I smirked doing it back

“hmmm like I need help?” He smirked with a smug grin as in our cuddle he hand managed to unlace my dress without making enough movement for me to notice.

“You are a sneaky little snake aren't you?” I smirked pushing my body to his

“Babydoll, we both know my snake isn't little” he growled

“Merely an expression Jack darling” I giggled “You know I love my, big, strong, sneaky, snake” I smirked walking my fingers slowly down his chest and under his trousers Making him gasp

“That what you want?’

“Beyond any doubt”

“We best not linger then, we loosening the dark” he growled pulling me back to our kiss this time the kiss was far more intense grabbing and almost clawing at one another until his legs hit his bed so I pushed him down he smirked and pulled his suspenders off and threw his shirt off him and off his bed “come here babydoll’ he growled pulling me back to our kiss this time moaning into the kiss as he began pushing up my skirt but I took his hands away

“Jack darling, it's only Tuesday.” I giggled stroking his cheek

“Uuhh come on I need you” he gasped “We both know one quick little turn each isn't gonna be enough. You've already edged me for fucking days you really think I can last much longer before I crawl in your bedroom window again?’

“I know, I know but Tuesdays is a quick day because you're on call, you made the rules Jack I'm just following them”

“Fine. You want rules?” He smirked “How about we play a game?”

“Oh? A game?”

“It's a very fun game I've made just for my babydoll” he smirked “It's called doctor’s orders.”

“Ohh? How do you play?’

“Well the doctor, that's me of course gives an order and the patient that's you has to obey it no matter what it is. And you have to continue any orders that don't interfere with your new ones”

“So give me an example”

“well an example would be, I tell you to get on your knees and then to suck my cock, you can't get up from your knees to suck until I say you can so you'd have to crawl over to me” he smirked

“This seems much more fun for you”

“A little but trust me my baby doll will enjoy herself” he smirked “so? Shall we play?”

“Alright, but we have to be quick”

“We will be, first. Stand by the wall”

I giggled but did as he asked going to stand by the wall and he soon came up behind me and peppered kisses down my neck

“Hands on the wall” he growled moving my hands to the wall “and legs apart.”

“How far apart?”

“As far as you can” he growled running his finger across my hips so I did as he said moving my legs to stand with my feet as far from each other as I could “perfect babydoll” he growled kissing my shoulder and down my spine finally reaching my coxis and he moved to his knees and pulled the hem of the dress up to my waist doing the same to my underdress until my bare skin was exposed he chuckled as he exposed me giving my ass a soft but firm jiggle before he playfully bit me softly enough it didn't hurt me but enough his teeth would mark my skin

“What's next?”

“Doctor will tell you babydoll” he whispered as he moved himself I didn't know what he was doing until it all became clear as he gently moved to kneel between me and the wall under my dress and he began to kiss my clit stroking my pussy softly and slowly I gasped in shock but very quickly melted into his kisses

“Uhh jack-”

“Nice and quiet babydoll. Doctors working” he cooed between kisses

I did my best to keep quiet but that wasn't exactly easy with him kissing and sucking at my clit often feeling my wetness drip down my legs, I moaned uncontrollably as his fingers slipped inside me

“Uhhhh! Jack please -”

“Your absolutely soaked babydoll, your dripping on my floor your so wet” he growled playfully amused by his torment luckily he pulled away and stood pressing himself and me completely to the wall “you ready for more?” He whispered in my ear his hand stroking me slipping his fingers back inside as he

“Uhhh yes doctor -”

“That's my girl” he smirked moving his hand fast and hard

“Uhhhhh!”

“take off your dress.”

“What-”

“You heard me.” He smirked taking his hand away sitting in his bed leaning in the wall with a wicked smirk “strip for me like a little burlesque dancer”

I blushed a little but went over and stood Infront of his bed slowly but surely I removed each layer of my dress until absolutely nothing was hidden from him by now he was almost biting his lip Off, a dark lustful look in his eyes as he made sute he saw every last inch of my body.

“What's next doctor?” I smiled

His response silent and simple he simply brought his hand up and curled his index finger towards himself summoning me closer with the familiar ‘come hither’ gesture. I made sure to playfully take my time making each step take a good ten seconds just to frustrate him further until I was an inch from his bed and by then I was in reach and he'd had enough waiting. He grabbed my hips and forced me into his lap my thighs each side of him pulling me so tight not an inch of us was apart all that concealed him his rough worn trousers

“This what you want?’ he asked between kisses across my lower jaw

“Yes” I smiled sliding my hands down his shoulders, down his chest and slipping my hand under his trousers and underwear to take him in my hand

“ummmm! Ride my babydoll” he whispered

“Yes doctor” I giggled moving to kiss down his neck even giving his neck little nibbles which was enough to have him clawing at my back like an irate kitten before he undid his trousers and pushed them and his underwear down letting his erection free

“Ride me. Now” he demanded forcing my hips forward so I had no choice but feel him force his way inside me only half way but still

“Uhhhhh! Jack!” I gasped in shock and the suddenness of feeling him inside me gripping his hair as I pulled his head into my chest not that he minded slowly I lowered myself until I was at his base and he had filled me utterly full with himself trying to think straight and get my breath he smirked and leant back leaning his elbows in his bed

“Ride babydoll” he growled

“Well its doctors orders” I blushed resting my hands on his stomach as I began to move my hips I started with gentle bounces but soon found myself riding him intensely gasping often and trying not to squeal even if many a moan and groan escaped until he began to thrust up forcing me to keep to this pace he desired smirking hard as he watched clearly very much enjoying the sight of me over him especially the longer it went on as the less I was about to hold my sounds back knowing I was already close just from bouncing on him this long he smirked and kissed from the centre of my chest up to my ear

“You know what the sexiest thing you do is?” He whispered

“No?’ I blushed

He smirked biting his lip as he rubbed my nose on his own “say my name.’

“What?” I giggled

“The sexiest thing you do, is when you say my name.” He growled “I fucking love hearing you moan my name in the throws of eztacy. Ummm you make my name sound so good babydoll” he smirked kissing me and rubbing my clit

“Uhhh ! Ughhhhh! Jack please -”

“Umm see how good you sound” he smirked

“Uuuughhhhh jack stop please I'll-” I whined

“Yeah? Want me to stop. say my name”

“Uhh jack! Please!”

“Louder” he demanded rubbing harder speeding up his thrusts leaving me utterly at his mercy

“Ahhhh jack!” I squealed

“Louder”

“Uuuughhhhh uughh jack!” I screamed feeling like I was moments from my high

“Ummmm fuck-” he groans pulling my face closer so he could rest his forehead on mine “my name sounds so good from your lips babydoll.” he moaned “ummm show me how much you love me” he demanded

And in that moment I hit my wall my whole body felt the wave of pleasure across my every inch, throwing my head back and squeezing around him slightly squirting in him “fuck! You really must love me” he gasped “bad bad girl” he smirked spanking my ass hard “I didn't say you could cum.”

“I couldn't help it” I whined resting my head on his shoulder as he moved my hips himself

“Awww you poor thing, did it feel good?”

“Amazing”

“I bet it did, now. Make me cum” he demanded

“How should -”

“You know how babydoll”

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster smut #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #jack dawkins #jackdawkins

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veryace-ficrecs · 2 months

Text

Tim Joins the BatFam Early Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

the butler's neighbor by deargalileo - Rated G

it starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne's property. it's alfred's job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more.

after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds?

the capillaries in my eyes are bursting by Scarlet_Ribbons - Rated T

Bruce grunts, standing up. “Jenkins said the same. What about what you weren’t told?” And without dissembling, Jason says, “I think they fucked that kid up, B.” [Jack and Janet die. As things get weirder and weirder, it feels like Tim might be at the center of the unfolding conspiracy.]

An (almost) Foolproof Lie by HiddenDreamer67 - Rated T

“No, they don’t leave me totally alone.” Tim hurriedly explained. “My neighbor Bruce Wayne looks after me.” Batman stared at him for a long while. “Bruce Wayne.” He parroted slowly. (A young Tim Drake gets kidnapped by Falcone. When Batman rescues him, Tim tells Batman that Bruce Wayne is his temporary guardian. Oddly enough, Batman isn’t fooled by this perfect cover story.)

Anton Syndrome by Anonymous - Rated M

Tim's parents have been away for six months and counting—the longest he's ever been left alone at one time—and it's starting to have some unpleasant side effects. Luckily, he has a solution. OR, the one where Tim attempts prostitution to cure his touch starvation. His plan goes wrong pretty much from step one, but it all works out for the better.

I'll Stand By You by TaraLaurel - Rated T

"I'm not going to ask you why you're out here, kid," Jason nods. "That's your business and you don't know me or Dick to trust us." Not true. Tim trusts Jason Todd and Dick Grayson with his life. Just not with, the other stuff. "But," Jason continues, "if you want to tell me what got you here, or you just want to talk about anything, you can, with me. Dick too. He's an annoying ray of sunshine that won't ever shut up most of the time, but he is actually a good listener. I'd know." OR When Tim's parents find out Tim's secret, they kick him out. Now, on Thanksgiving, Tim is living on the streets and is thankful for the two strangers currently saving him from getting his face pounded into the pavement. Wait...those aren't strangers...

Just a Typical Monday Morning by Writer_loves_tropes - Rated T

There are three things in life that Timothy Drake knows for sure. One, Tim is the greatest retro Guitar Hero player in the world (even if the wonderful people at the Guinness Book of World Records won’t rightfully acknowledge this fact). Two, Tim is allergic to walnuts. He’s convinced his parents that he’s allergic to spinach too because he hates it. He’s pretty sure when his parents find out, they’re going to make him eat spinach casserole for dinner for a whole week as punishment. And the third thing Tim knows for sure? He’s sure that on this typical Monday morning, the entire Gotham High School thinks Timothy Jackson Drake is Robin, Batman’s vigilante sidekick. A random locker check and the real Robin stashing his suit in Tim’s locker is all it took to turn Tim’s typical Monday morning into one of the craziest Mondays of his life.

Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding - Rated G

Well-behaved boy (10) is looking for big brother (11-15). Must meet up with me three times a week, for at least two hours each. Overall duties include helping me with homework, playing videogames with me, and showing me how to play catch. 10$ per hour. Tim, lonely and in desperate need of company, decides that if his parents are not going to give him a sibling, he's going to hire one instead. Luckily, Jason Todd-Wayne shows up in the nick of time.

Holy security breach, Batman! by destiny919 - Rated G

Janet finally shoos him away towards the hors d'oeuvres or drinks table with the tacit understanding that she doesn't want to see him again until the end of the gala. And probably not even then, it wouldn't be the first time the Drakes forgot to take him home with them and Tim had to discreetly call an Uber before the host noticed and made Tim embarrass his parents. For this gala, however, he almost hopes they forget him again, because tonight Tim has a plan. They're at Wayne Manor, and Tim is going to find the Batcave.

wrong number by adelfie - Rated G

There’s a few rings, then the phone picks up. “Wayne Residence.” That’s funny, Tim thinks, Mrs. Mac doesn’t sound like herself. -- On a hot July evening while home alone, eight-year-old Tim gets a fever. He means to ask Mrs. Mac for help — but ends up accidentally calling Alfred Pennyworth. Somehow, even in sickness, he wins all the hearts of the Wayne family in one fell swoop.

assaulting existence with improbability by destiny919 - Rated T

"Where's Batman?" the kid demands. "We need to show him." Jason decides to go with the easy question. "Show him what?" The kid gives him an incredulous look. "Proof you didn't kill Garzonas, what else?"

5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam - Rated T

Tim is good at galas.

No, scratch that—Tim is great at galas. He’s been attending them ever since the age of three, when his parents first stuffed him into his little Gymboree tuxedo and gave him a stern lecture about ‘sitting quietly’ and ‘speaking when spoken to.’ He knows all the rules: what to wear, how to stand, when to smile, what to say, what not to say. He knows how to come across as polite and intelligent and charming, and on absolutely any other day, he would be rocking this.

#veryace recs #batman #batman fic recs #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #red robin #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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scary-lasagna · 5 months

Note

hi if you still do yandere can I have some yandere EJ? your version of him is my favorite !!

Thank you!! :] I like writing for him, he's fun to play around with, just as he does to his victims darlings. It's a little long but you know I love setting the mood.

tw: kidnapping, semi-nekedness, dead bodies, family death, noncon kissing

Yandere!Eyeless Jack

Quivering. Shaking. Only shreds of your clothing remained in tact to cover whatever was left of your modesty.

You sat in a cold, dead corner. There was no light whatsoever. Even if you could move your hand, you'd no doubt wouldn't be able to see it right in front of your face.

It smelled pungently of rancid rotting meat, urine, and what you believed to be the underlying metallic smell of blood.

It was hours ago that Jack climbed in through the basement window, and started dumping dull, heavy, heaps of garbage bags across the floor of this abandoned basement.

You didn't want to think about what was inside them.

Jack didn't eat food, he ate humans. You could only assume this was his calorie income for the next week. But, six bodies? You only hoped he wasn't hosting a party for any other freaky demon friends he might have.

You hoped you weren't next.

Jack had already ripped your clothes to shreds in an effort to get you to shut up about the damp basement. He was the one to ask if you needed anything in the first place. Kindly. Foolishly, you thought he had somewhat of a change of heart.

"Ohhh, I see. The dampness is making you so miserable down here, isn't it? If you had no clothes, you wouldn't be so damp, now would you?"

It taught you quickly not to ask for things.

If his talons could easily shred through the fabric of your denim, there would only be a grim end if he decided your life was making you miserable.

And there it was, the jiggle of the basement window latch. The horrors beyond your imaginative mind terrified you.

This man, no- this creature, this monster, plucked you from your safe haven and dragged you kicking and screaming into an abandoned house in the city.

You didn't know where he received the supplies, or if they were already there and he decided on a whim to tie you to a pipe with a heavy rope.

The rope thickened with both blood and that black tar that leaks down Jack's mask. There was no escape and the only time you tried biting off your restraints, the black tar almost choked you to death, worming its way down your tongue and into your throat.

"Good evening, my precious gem." The bastard cooed, and slithered down the wall. The floor squelched as he paced across it toward you. It was wet over there. Luckily, whatever it was hasn't reached you yet.

You knew it was blood, but deep down you just hoped it was a leaky pipe.

"How are you doing today? Less damp, I hope."

He must be able to see in the start, noting the uneven steps mostly stepping over the garbage bags of dead bodies.

You couldn't manage anything but a fearful sob, choking out past your puffy and cracked lips. Jack's shoes squeaked as he squatted, a small puff of breath ghosting on your face.

"I asked you a question." Jack quickly grasped your jaw, squeezing it with such force you were afraid the bone may snap. You cried out in pain, desperately pulling away from his claws.

"Better, but not exactly an answer. I'm in a good mood today, so I'll let it pass." He coos. His grip softened, but by no means did he let go.

"From now on, I expect a loving kiss when I get home. Let's start now, hm?~" Despite the darkness, you could hear the end of his sentence upturning into a snarky smile. He quickly pinned you down with his weight, sitting on your lap.

That's when you started thrashing.

You weren't even sure if you could stomach the kiss alone. His mouth smelled of rotting meat and blood, but the teeth, those were a problem. One swift bite and you're left choking on your own blood pooling in your windpipe, whenever he decides to bite the bottom of your jaw off.

You kicked, you screamed, you punched, and you even attempted to rip his hair out. It was all futile; This creature was inhuman. Your stupidly weak attempts were no match to this demonic being.

Your head suddenly met the pipe ungracefully, and Jack's lips smooshed against yours in the middle of a curdling scream.

Multiple meaty, fleshy tongues jousted forward between your teeth, assaulting your own tongue, gums, cheeks, and eventually sliding down your throat to trigger your gag reflex.

You punched his collar bone and attempted to bring your knee up hard enough to push him off but to no avail. If anything, you were probably tickling him.

Your chest convulsed as you attempted to breathe, until you realized he was blocking your entire airway with his tongues. You desperately hit him with the last of your remaining strength, and pushed him. Even going as far as shoving your thumb into on of his eye sockets.

It only made him hungrier for you, pressing his body against you and tilting your head upward for a better angle to reach your throat with.

That's when the power to the building finally flickered on. You stopped fighting. A spotted haze worked it's way into your vision, locking eyes with the naked corpse hanging from the ceiling above you.

Dead, yet familiar eyes, of the person that you loved most in this world. Gone.

You gave up. There was no escape. Never will be. The power went out again, or maybe it was the darkness of death finally engulfing you.

You hoped you were dead.

#yandere #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #yandere x reader #tw yandere #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog

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honeyedmiller · 1 year

Text

A Forever Thing | Joel Miller

i do not own the gif above. all rightful credit goes to the maker of the gif.

pairing: husband!joel miller x pregnant!wife!reader

warnings: no outbreak, fluff, brief mention of infertility, pregnancy.

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you and joel have been trying for a baby since the night you two married, but haven't had any luck... until you do.

You stare down at the three tests on the bathroom counter. The six lines across all three tests stare back at you, and you feel so woozy.

Three years. Three years since you got married to the absolute love of your life. Three years you've been trying for a baby, but no luck. Three years of wondering if there was something wrong with your body, that you couldn't bare a child, that you were infertile.

Three years of sobbing to your husband, who shed tears as well, because you both thought you'd never get the chance of having a baby of your own. You had your stepdaughter Sarah, whom you unconditionally loved (who'd practically been calling you 'mom' since she was around ten years old), but you wanted to experience motherhood from your own body. You wanted to see your belly grow, shower your baby with gifts, have your husband kiss and talk to your protruding stomach, saying he couldn't wait for their arrival on Earth.

Tears sprung to your eyes as a sob left your mouth, covering it quickly. This had to be a dream.

Was it?

No. This was real. This was so real, and you couldn't wait to tell Joel.

A sharp knock on the bathroom door occurred only seconds later, with Sarah calling for you on the other side.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Sarah's voice is soft, but laced with concern.

"You can open the door, honey." You call back to her, and she almost immediately does. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes flicker to your tear-stained face, down to the tests on the counter.

"Is that-?" She pauses as she stands next to you, eyes scanning the devices on the counter. "Oh my god, it is! No way!" She exclaims in pure excitement as her arms gently wrap around your torso.

"You're gonna be a big sister, baby." You kiss her head as more tears fall down your cheeks, and she starts to cry with you. She knows you and her father have been trying for a baby, and was saddened for you every time a test turned out negative. She wanted a little sibling so bad.

"How are we gonna tell Dad?" Her glossy eyes move up to yours as she stares at you in wonder, her arms never leaving your middle.

"I say we cook a fancy dinner for him and put one test in a box as a present." You smile as you rest your hand on her cheek, thumb grazing back and forth.

"Yeah! And maybe I can get a 'big sister' shirt?" She asks, knowing you two would have to go to the store anyhow to get ingredients to make Joel's favorite— T-bone steak with country potatoes and corn on the cob.

You laugh at her advances, and nod your head. "Sure thing, baby."

You two went to the store and came back in about an hour's time, and you started to prep dinner. It was a Saturday, so Joel wouldn't be at the construction site too late. He usually got home around five; it was currently two thirty.

Sarah helped you as she chopped up and seasoned the potatoes, putting them in a pan to simmer for awhile. You worked on the steak and the corn, and while the food was cooking, Sarah made a small cake that she frosted herself.

It was four forty-five by the time dinner was almost done, and Sarah helped you set out place mats on the table for four, just in case Tommy decided to join you guys for dinner.

Joel walked into the house not even ten minutes later, looking tired but happy to be home to his girls.

"Somethin' smells delicious in here." He calls out, entering the kitchen to find you and Sarah.

"Hey Dad." Sarah smiles, wondering if he'll notice her 'big sister' shirt she had on, which you two luckily found at the store.

"Hey pumpkin." He pulls her in for a hug before kissing the top of her head. His eyes graze over to you, a smile full of nothing but pure love drawn onto his lips.

"Hi darlin'," He moved to you as he hugged you and gave you a sweet kiss. "What's all this?" He gestures toward the food that was done, sitting hot on the stove.

"Just a little treat for my hardworking man." You smile as his eyes turn soft, bringing you in for a kiss.

"Mind if I shower before we enjoy this delicious meal? I'll be quick. I stink." Joel chuckles, and you notice a sheen of sweat covering his neck and forehead.

"Of course. It'll be ready for you when you come back." You kiss his cheek and he taps your butt softly before disappearing into your shared bedroom upstairs. Sarah gives you a knowing look and you smile giddily, serving the plates and opening a cold beer from the fridge for Joel.

He was downstairs twenty minutes later, his hair damp and slicked back. He smelt like musky amber wood and pine, and he smelled damn good.

"No beer for you, baby?" Joel notices your glass full of sweet tea instead of the usual beer you'd share with him with a dinner like this.

"Not today, honey. Just felt like havin' some sweet tea." You grin as you clink your glass to his beer bottle, both of you taking a swig of your drinks.

"So, what did my girls do today?" He looks between you and Sarah, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"Nothin' much, just went to the store for stuff for dinner and made dinner." Sarah shrugs, giving you a small smile of secrecy, which luckily, Joel doesn't notice as his eyes move down to his food.

"Which is delicious, by the way. Thank you." He takes a bite of his tender steak, groaning at the flavor.

"Seriously, baby, there's no occasion for this? I know it's my favorite meal and all, but-"

The front door opens and Tommy emerges, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Hey y'all, sorry 'm late." He's breathless as he reaches the kitchen, fixing himself a plate. You chuckle at his late arrival, really expecting nothing less from the younger Miller brother.

"What'd I miss?" He asks as he takes his seat between Joel and Sarah, sitting across from you.

"Nothing, we were just talking about our days." You smile softly at him, eyes moving to Joel who was too engaged in the delicious meal, only half paying attention to the current conversation.

"Ah, seriously. It's been a long one." Tommy cracks his neck before delving into the meal, a small praise coming from him at yours and Sarah's cooking.

You take another sip of your sweet tea as the room falls silent, you and Sarah exchanging knowing glances.

"Why are you two lookin—holy shit." Tommy exclaims, first noticing you and Sarah, then Sarah's shirt, which Joel still hasn't looked at.

"What?" Joel asks, his head snapping up as he looks between the three of you.

"Are you serious?" Tommy looks at you, the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face.

Joel's brows furrow in worry, "What's goin' on?" He wipes his mouth as he swallows the last bites of his meal, and you look at him with teary eyes.

"Sarah, honey, can you get the present from the counter, please?" You ask her, and Joel's face displays pure confusion. She nods at you and happily leaps from her seat, getting the small rectangular box from the kitchen island and she brought it to you. She sat back down, looking between you and Joel.

"What's this?" Joel asks as you hand him the present, which he gingerly takes.

"Open it." You whisper, and his gaze remains on yours before faltering and moving down to the box. He lifts the lid of the box and freezes when he sees the contents inside. He couldn't believe it.

He looks up at you, glossy eyes matching your own.

"Y'serious?" His voice cracks, and you nod, a sob leaving your lips once more. You both stand at the same time, and he wraps you in his warm embrace as tears stream down his tan face.

"Darlin', oh," He coos, rocking you back and forth as you sob.

"We're gonna have a baby, Joel." Your cries fill the room as he hugs you tightly, but not too tight. He was already cautionary and it made your heart swoon. He pulls apart from you and gives you a long kiss, cupping one cheek with his broad palm as the other is splayed on your back, pulling you flush against him.

"Congrats you guys." Tommy gets up and hugs both of you, kissing you on the cheek. Sarah joins in on the hug, moving shortly after to pull out the celebratory cake.

"I gotta take a picture of this moment." Tommy beams, grabbing the digital camera that resided on the side table next to the couch. He snaps a photo of you three, with you holding the pregnancy test in your hand as your glossy eyes and huge smiles shine bright in the photo you'd later hang on a wall in your house.

Joel couldn't stop kissing you and touching you more than usual that night, ecstatic to finally be having another baby, and one with the love of his life. He couldn't believe this was his reality.

He kept kissing your stomach, whispering sweet things to the little one growing inside. He couldn't wait to meet them. That night, Joel fell asleep on your stomach with his arms wrapped securely around you, pure bliss coursing through both of you as this is what you two've dreamed of for so long.

It's all he ever wanted; his girls, a growing family, and a house to call home, which you and Sarah were to him.

And he knew, deep down in his heart, it was a forever thing.

#joel miller imagines #joel miller #the last of us imagine #preoutbreak!Joel #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal #tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller x female reader

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billybob598 · 8 months

Text

Everything is Going to Be Okay (Sydney Lohmann x Reader)

Well hello there! Here is the long awaited (not really) part 2 to How Many People. On a completely unrelated note, school is kicking my ass. But whatever. Also, I just want to note that I am NOT a medical professional. I have no idea if what happens in this fic is actually possible or medically correct. Either way, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Enjoy!

Part 1 here

Word Count: 5K (can we all just pause and acknowledge this? like guys come on now)

1 Year Ago

“She’s stable, for now. We’re going to be monitoring her carefully for the next few days. Again, we’re confident she’ll recover as much as she can.” You can hear a voice coming from above you, but your mind seems hazy, almost like a fog clouding your thoughts. Something wet lands on your exposed wrist, it feels like water but who would pour water on your arm?

“Okay, thank you, doctor,” a German accent breaks your line of thinking. Wait, you know that voice, Sydney? What was she doing here? What were you doing here? The last thing you remember you were sitting in the middle of the track, about to switch the car off and get out. Now that you think about it, it did sound as if something was getting closer to you. Oh God, had you been hit by another car? Well, that’s not good. A door closed shut, presumably the doctor, leaving just you and Sydney alone. She started to cry, like full-on sobbing. How badly you wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but you couldn’t. Your body was betraying you. Luckily, Sydney slipped her hand into yours and squeezed tightly. “You scared me for a sec, Y/N/N. Wake up, please. Then, everything will be okay, liebe.” Her voice was cracking as she begged you to open your eyes. You couldn’t. You couldn’t reach up and tuck the hair behind her ear, you couldn’t open your mouth and tell her everything was going to be okay. You were useless. Well, you could just try and squeeze her hand. What’s the harm in trying? So, you focused completely on getting your fingers to tighten around hers. Sydney’s head shoots up. The sadness she was previously feeling almost disappeared altogether. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” She gets a squeeze in response, “Oh my God, oh my God.” She clings onto your hand as if it were a lifeline, “I’m going to go get the doctor, okay?” Another squeeze.

9 Months Ago

You had fully woken up four or five hours ago. For a couple of weeks you were just squeezing your girlfriend's hand, today was the day you were finally able to open your eyes. When you woke, Sydney immediately pulled you into a hug, being mindful of your injuries. The nurses did a few checks on you such as checking if you remembered what happened, who you were, and who Sydney was. They were happy to confirm you didn’t suffer any memory loss despite your head trauma. They then left you alone to rest for a couple of hours. Sydney telling you everything that has occurred over the last month. It shook you, how much you had missed and how long you’d been unconscious for. Around six o’clock the doctor came in. He watched the numbers on the machines you were hooked up to, occasionally writing something down on his clipboard. When he was satisfied, he walked to the foot of your bed and carefully removed the bed sheets covering your legs.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I’m not sure if anyone has told you yet, but during your accident, you suffered damage to your spinal cord. I just want to make sure that everything is okay down here,” he explains. He takes out a pen from his pocket and gently pushes it into your foot, “Can you feel this?” You shake your head no. He hums quietly then, he moves it onto your shin, “This?” Nothing. You unknowingly tense, this wasn’t good. He continues to move it further and further up your legs until he gets to just above your hip. Poking it softly he raises his eyebrows to you in question. Finally, you can feel the tip of the pen dig into your skin,

“Yeah, yeah, I can feel that.” He nods curtly.

“Could you try wiggling your toes for me?” Focusing your entire body on getting just one of your toes to move, you groan when you can’t. The doctor mumbles something to himself. He then asks Sydney if he could talk to her outside. Sydney gets up, squeezing your shoulder as she walks past you. You watch them carefully, trying to see if you can lip-read. Spoiler alert: you can’t. As they walk back into the room, Sydney has a sombre look on her face. When she sees you staring she tries to force a smile, but you already knew what was coming.

“So, Y/N-”

“I’m paralyzed, right?” Your question catches both of them off guard. They share a look before Sydney turns to you with a sad look in her eyes. That’s all the confirmation you need. The tears start to flow thick and fast. In an instant Sydney is beside you, comforting you in whatever way she can. She whispers sweet nothings into your ear, trying her best to calm you and reassure you.

“I know it seems like the end of the world, meine liebe. But, you’ll come back better than ever. Everything will be okay,” she whispers sweetly as the sobs coming out of your mouth begin to slow.

7 Months Ago

“Seriously, Y/N?” Sydney’s voice sounds incredulous. She harshly spins your wheelchair around, taking you by surprise. When you meet her eyes you're taken aback to see such fury and frustration in them.

“What? What I’d do?” You ask, not liking the way Sydney looks like she could tear you apart limb by limb.

She scoffs, “Oh please, you know what you did.” It’s when she says those words that you realize what she’s talking about. A frown forms on your face, preparing to defend yourself, but she cuts you off, “Like, seriously, Y/N? What the fuck? You don’t get to say or decide those things.” Her words set you off.

“Oh, I don’t get to make those decisions? Of course, I do! You know who doesn’t get to decide those things? Someone who has no fucking clue what it’s like!” Your voice rises word by word.

Sydney, however, refuses to give up, “Maybe I don’t get to make the decisions, but I get a say in it. They affect me as well. Not everything in this world revolves around you!” At this point, tears are starting to form in her eyes, your fists are clenched, and the words being said are much harsher than originally intended.

“Whatever. I’m a grown fucking adult and I’ll do what I want.” Any hope either of you had for a civil, calm conversation had been thrown out of the window a while ago. The German’s hands fly to her hair, tugging at it.

“Really? Cause right now you’re acting like a child. God, you’re so frustrating! I’ve been doing everything I possibly can for you these last three or four months. I understand that you’re frustrated and that you’re heartbroken, but that doesn’t mean you get to shut me out, okay? I’ve tried to show that I’m here if you need someone to talk to, but what do you do? You bottle it up and then it makes you make stupid decisions like telling your therapist to piss off when she asks about Formula 1 and saying that you don’t ever want to see her again!” She releases a deep breath after her mini-ramble. All of her worries and frustrations from the past few months let out. You stare at her in shock and regret.

With a look of concession you speak quietly, “You’re right, Syd. I shouldn’t have done that, I’ll call her and apologize. I’m sorry, I am, babe.” Blinking, Sydney couldn’t believe it, you had apologized.

“And?” She prompts.

“And I promise I’ll try to talk to you more about those things,” a smile appears across your girlfriend's face.

“See? Wasn’t that hard was it?” You roll your eyes, a playful grin etching itself on your face, “Everything will be okay, right?”

“Yeah, everything will be okay.”

6 Months Ago

“Fuck!” Your swear startles Sydney out of an email she was writing.

“Everything okay, schatz?” She asks, peering out of the office. You had moved to Germany so she could help you with your recovery. Your trainer and physiotherapist had both moved as well. That way everyone you needed to help you was right there. Sydney hated to leave you alone, especially in your current state. So, whenever she had to leave for away games or international duty she would get her mom and dad to come over and watch you. No matter how many times you insisted you were fine alone, they stayed however long they needed to and helped you do everything. Dinner? They made it. Shower? Momma Lohmann is helping you. It embarrassed you to no end. To have your girlfriend's parents look after you as if you were a toddler. It was the topic of many arguments with her, she just never understood why you were so stubborn to the offer of help. To be honest, you didn’t know either. There was just something degrading about it. You were once a role model, a trailblazer in motorsport, a standard for those to come. Now, you couldn’t even make it up one flight of stairs by yourself.

“I spilled my tea. Don’t worry I’ll clean it up,” you call back from the living room.

“No, don’t. It’s okay, you’ve got physio soon. I’ll clean it up when I get back,” your girlfriend walks into the room. You huff slightly and mumble a quiet “okay.”

Arriving at your physio, Sydney waves you goodbye as one of the desk ladies wheels you through the doors and into the main lobby. Your physiotherapist, Emma, smiles at you and takes over pushing your wheelchair towards the back.

“So, how are you feeling today?” She asks happily.

“Same as two days ago,”

“Woah there grumpy pants. It was just a question,” she jokes. Sighing heavily, you give her a more honest answer,

“Em, come on. It’s been what three months? I’m still nowhere near being able to walk again,” Now it’s her turn to sigh,

“Don’t say that. You are making progress. You may not see it, but I can. And I think you’re closer to walking again than you think.” She ignores your scoff and parks you near a massage bed. After a few warm-up exercises, (What you were warming up you had no idea. You couldn’t feel shit.) you maneuver onto the treadmill. However, on this treadmill, there was a harness with two braces that wrapped around your legs. This forces them to move. Emma helps you put the harness on, she turns the treadmill on, starting at an extremely slow speed. Slowly, she increases the speed little by little. When she feels you’ve had enough she stops it and sits you back in your wheelchair. The two of you continue to plow through exercises, everything seems to be going decent until you try to walk by yourself. You had been left unsupervised for no more than two minutes, but your impatient self decided to try and go get your wheelchair that was situated only six feet away from you. You willed your right leg to move forward and take a step, leaning forward slightly, instead, you toppled over face first having to break your fall with your arms. Emma and others had rushed over when they heard you thump against the floor. She, with the assistance of others, helped you into the wheelchair, the chain of curse words that left your mouth conveying just how pissed you were. What was shaping up to be a rare positive session ended instead with you being inconsolably furious. You weren’t mad at anyone, no, you were mad with yourself. In your mind, you were pathetic. How could you not even take one stupid step? You continued to mentally bash yourself, not realizing that Sydney and Emma had sat you in the car. Now, they stood behind the vehicle, Emma filling your girlfriend in on everything. After bidding your friend and physiotherapist goodbye, Sydney got into the car and started the drive home. When she took a peek at you she could tell how in your head you were. Doing the only thing she could think of, she reached across the centre console and intertwined her hand with yours. Your head snapped in her direction, you were confused but you didn’t move your hand away. Stopping at a red light, Sydney turned her head towards you. She spoke quietly,

“I know you’re frustrated, liebe. I would be too. But you have to try and be patient with yourself. It’s a long road and I’m almost positive that one day you’ll reap the rewards.” You smiled at her words, a genuine smile, something Syndey hadn’t seen in a long time. You brought your interlocked hands towards your mouth and planted a kiss on her hand. “Everything will be okay, okay?”

5 Months Ago

“Come on Y/N! You got this!” Emma’s words spur you on. In the past month, you had made significant progress and today was the day you were going to try taking a step. So here you were, on your fourth attempt and while you were beginning to lose confidence, Emma was determined not to let you give up. Taking a deep breath, you will your leg forward. To your and Emma’s amazement, you take a step.

“Holy shit I did it!” You exclaim happily.

“You did it!” Emma screams, bringing you into a tight hug. Before Sydney comes to pick you up you make Emma promise not to tell your girlfriend about your progress, stating that you wanted to surprise her when you can walk more.

Two weeks later, you texted Sydney asking her to come inside because Emma wanted to show her something. So, as the two of them talk about God knows what, you slowly but surely make your way over to her. Emma looks excitedly over your girlfriend's shoulder, continuing to talk to keep her distracted. When you finally get close enough, you reach out and lay your hand on her shoulder. Sydney turns around, her jaw drops when she sees you standing there, your wheelchair far behind you.

“Di-Did you…?” She stutters, extending her hand to hold you. You nod with a stupid grin on your face.

“I did,” you say tears appearing in your eyes. Sydney pulls you into a hug, crying into your neck.

“I’m so, so proud of you, Y/N,” she mutters, still against your neck.

“Thank you, love. And thank you for staying with me,” you say before pulling her into a soft kiss. After a few seconds, you pull away.

“Everything is going to be okay, liebe,” she says into your ear.

3 Months Ago

“You nervous?” You can practically hear the grin on Alex’s face as he speaks up from behind you. His hand lands on your shoulder, bringing a sense of comfort to you. Alex had always been one of your best friends, a friendship that only got stronger when you became teammates. Both of you had done your best to keep in touch throughout your recovery, something that proved difficult. Mostly due to you not wanting anything to do with F1. Some might see it as a terrible coping system, but you saw it as a well-deserved break to mentally reset. Now, after months and months of rehab and hard work, you were finally back where you belonged, in an F1 garage. Williams’ was giving you a test day around Silverstone. On one hand, you were ecstatic to be back, on the other, you and Syndey were scared as hell. While the conditions were perfect, the sun predicted all day with no clouds, and there were no other cars on track, It’s hard to get past those types of things, especially when they hurt you and everyone close to you. One of the main things you were concerned about was Syndey. You weren’t sure if you could, God forbid anything similar happened to you, put her through that again. She was your rock and you had no idea if she could take something as emotionally and physically taxing as that ever again.

“Nah, mate. I’m not nervous at all,” you say sarcastically before moving away from him.

As you walk around the garage you take a good long look at your car. God, your car. Something you hadn’t been able to say in forever. Someone walks up from behind you and snakes their arms around your waist. You lean back into your girlfriend's arms as she leans forward slightly and talks into your ear,

“You’re gonna do great, I just know it.” Turning around so you’re facing her, the bright smile that Syndey and the world love so much tugs at your lips.

“Yeah I know, I’m more worried about you,” you joke lightly. She feigns offence at your words.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m always as cool as a cucumber when you’re racing.” A laugh escapes from you and you kiss the underside of her jaw sweetly.

“Y/L/N! We’re ready, wanna get in?” An engineer shouts at you, breaking the two of you out of your trance. You nod, the soft look you had instantly replaced with one of pure determination. Pulling away from your girlfriend, you look at her,

“Everything will be okay, Syd.” She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she presses one last kiss on your forehead and moves to put some headphones on, leaving you alone. Taking a deep breath, you begin to put your earplugs in, then you tuck your hair in as you put your balaclava on. Finally, you slip the custom-designed crash helmet over your head and connect the HANS device to your neck. Approaching your car, a few of the mechanics give you fist bumps and words of encouragement. There are a few cameras located inside and outside of the garage, one of them being the social media manager. You give a thumbs up and wink at her, something that you’re sure will end up all over TikTok and Instagram later, but whatever. You step over the halo, your eyes squint due to the big smile under your helmet. After taking a few breaths in and out, you slide down into the cockpit. Someone helps you with the seatbelts and headrest, they give you a quick thumbs up before retracting their hand from the cockpit. Your engineer gives you the go-ahead to start the engine, and when you switch it on the entire car rumbles to life. It’s a surreal feeling, the way your entire world vibrates with its power. The front jackman signals for you to pull out of the garage. When you press the throttle, everything goes silent. As you pull out of the pit lane and head onto the actual track, the rest of the world falls away, It’s just you and your car. Nothing else in the world matters right now. For the first time in months, you’re doing what you do best, driving at crazy speeds like a madman. When you come across the start/finish line to complete your first lap in an F1 car in over nine months the entire garage breaks out in applause. Sydney can feel the tears flowing down her cheeks, but unlike the last time you were in an F1 car, they were happy tears. The world and your lives were somewhat going back to normal. Finally.

2 Weeks Ago

“Here we are for the 2024 Hungarian Grand Prix! And Martin, the biggest story of the week, Y/N Y/L/N is making her long-awaited return to Formula 1 after her horrific accident last year in Spa,” Crofty’s cheery voice crackles through the TV speakers in your driver room.

“That’s right, Crofty. She has had to endure one of the most challenging journeys we’ve ever seen. And I think everyone inside of the F1 community is rooting for her this weekend. So far, everything has been smooth sailing for her. She put in a mighty performance in qualifying, only three spots back from her teammate, Alex Albon, who qualified a magnificent P2. And that Williams has looked quite speedy around this track and I’m sure both drivers are hoping to make the podium, at least.”

“How are you feeling?” Your girlfriend's sweet voice brings you back to reality.

“Good, yeah great, good,” you say very unconvincingly. She just laughs at you, but before she can say anything in response, a series of loud splats hitting the window makes you both look at it. To both your dismay and worry, the heavens decide to open up there and then. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath.

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about that. You’ve been doing so well, a little rain isn’t going to change that,” Sydney takes a seat beside you and cradles your face in her hands.

“I can’t do it, Syd. I can’t,” You feel yourself start to hyperventilate. Your mind races, thinking about all the bad outcomes, thinking about what happened last time.

“Look at me, liebe. You can do it and you will. I know you, nothing ever stops you and this definitely won’t. You’ve worked so frickin’ hard for this. I’ve watched it, I’ve watched how you never gave up. This is your time. Show them just how amazing you are, schatz. Show them.” Her pep talk has its desired effect, it eases your worries and helps you prepare for the race.

Walking around the grid, you take it all in. A year of pain and hard work finally paid off. Multiple people come up to you before the race and wish you luck, something you appreciate but don’t care for. As you sit inside the car with your helmet on, everything seems quiet. All weekend everyone wanted to talk to you and they always asked the same questions. At first, you didn’t mind it, just happy to be back. But, after a bit, it got annoying having someone try to follow you every minute. Inside your car, however, it was just you, you couldn’t hear anyone else, everyone just left you alone.

“Thirty seconds until the green light,” your engineer, Gaetan, spoke through your earpiece. You run through your final preparations before the formation lap was started. When the green light is given, you weave around the track attempting to warm up your tyres while Gaetan confirms the race strategy. Parking in your grid spot, you ready yourself with the clutch.

“It’s five red lights and away we go for the Hungarian Grand Prix!”

At the end of lap 1, you’re up to P4 after starting fifth. Alex had dropped down to P3, putting you right behind him. A few more laps pass by and you begin to get frustrated behind your teammate,

“Guys, come on. I’m faster than him.” Sydney and Lily watch anxiously from the garage.

“We’ll give it one more lap, Y/N. If he doesn’t improve we will switch the cars,” Gaetan responds. When Alex doesn’t improve the next lap, he lets you by and sets you free. Now, you had clean air and lots of time to make up. Over the next twenty laps, you gradually close the gap between you and the top two, Carlos Sainz and Max Verstappen. When the three of you come in for your pit stops, you were just under two seconds back from them. Alex had pitted a few laps before, trying to pull off the undercut on you guys.

“And what’s this? Oh no, Martin, Sainz has had a slow stop! Oh goodness, the tyres weren’t ready! This might just play into Y/N Y/L/N and Williams’ hands.” After a smooth stop from your guys, you rejoin the track ahead of Sainz and into P2.

“So we’re P2 and Alex is P3,” your engineer tells you.

“Really? Oh, wow. Good job guys,” your surprised tone makes a few people chuckle. The race progresses and try as you might, you just can’t get close enough to get by Verstappen. By the time the second pit stops comes around you are 1.2 seconds behind him, only getting near enough to attempt one or two overtakes. With less than twenty laps to go, a sense of urgency overcomes you. You start to push a little harder. Eventually, you get DRS on Max, you draw closer and closer on the main straight, but not quite close enough to make a dive bomb. After a few more laps of getting closer but still being too far, on lap sixty-one of seventy you stick close to his gearbox the entire lap. Following close through the corners and gaining the slipstream on the limited straights around the Hungaroring. When the two of you arrive on the main straight you open your rear wing and tuck in behind him for the slipstream. Getting closer and closer, you pull to the inside and draw alongside him. Heading into the first turn, you have the inside line, but leave enough room for him on the outside. He keeps his foot in and stays level with you then, heading into turn two, the sweeping left-hander, you keep your nose in front of him. And you hit the throttle quicker letting you pull in front of him. Verstappen has to concede the position and you take the lead of the Grand Prix. The Williams garage erupts, everyone is losing their shit. For the first time in forever, one of their cars is leading a race. Sydney has the biggest grin on her face, she has no chance of hiding how proud she is. For the last nine laps you defend like your life depends on it. Max throws everything at you, but each time you turn him away skillfully.

“As she rounds the final bend, it’s a fairytale story for Y/N Y/L/N and Williams. Almost a year since one of the worst accidents the F1 community has seen, she returns and in her first race back,

Y/N Y/L/N WINS THE HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX!”

When you cross the line you put your head in your hands and cry. The darkest time of your life had ended and you had come through, better than ever.

“Oh my God, mate! You did it! You’ve won a Grand Prix, congratulations!” Gaetan sounds elated over the radio and you can’t blame him.

“Holy shit, guys. I’m crying, stop. Thank you everyone so, so much for all your hard work and for supporting me throughout everything. I couldn’t ask for a more amazing team, thank you.” Your stifled sobs break up your words, but the words still get out. Stopping in front of the first place sign, you take a moment inside of the cockpit to just calm down. Unbuckling and removing the headrest, you step out of the car and stand on top of it raising your arms in triumph. Everyone cheers for you as you wave at the crowd. You rush to your team and jump into they’re awaiting arms. After celebrating with your team for a few seconds, you look for your girlfriend. She waves to get your attention, you grin and make your way over to her. She pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. Pulling away, she tilts her forehead against your helmet-covered one.

“Everything’s okay,” she mumbles to you. A stupid smile appears on your face as you reply,

“Yeah, everything is okay, love.”

Present Day

“Liebe? Are you sure you want to do this?” Your girlfriend appears in front of you, a concern clear upon her features. Sighing, your hand runs over the scar on the side of your head, a nervous habit you developed during your recovery. Sydney gently takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with hers. Her heart breaks when she looks into your eyes and finds them glossed over with tears. “You know you don’t have to do this, Tom will understand if you back out,” she tries to reassure you. You shake your head,

“No, no. I want to do this. It’s time.” She looks at you warily before releasing your hand from hers. Tom Clarkson, the host of the F1: Beyond the Grid podcast, had come to you a few weeks ago asking if you would like to come onto the podcast and share your story. You, of course, had said yes, not hesitating much about it, Sydney on the other hand was much more cautious about it. It took you months and months before you were able to express your feelings to her, now you were just supposed to share your insane story to the entire world? She was praying that everything would go smoothly and that you wouldn’t close off after. As you sat down and adjusted the mic on the desk to sit closer to you, Tom quickly ran through some of the topics he was going to question you about. While most of them were touch subjects, you felt comfortable enough to talk about them. Especially with Sydney sitting not too far away.

“After one of the most terrifying incidents the F1 world has seen in recent memory, she’s completed one of the most outstanding comebacks we’ve ever seen,” Tom introduces you into the podcast and you guys fall into a relaxed conversation for a few minutes. “Now, Y/N, today marks exactly one year since your accident. How are you feeling about that?” You gulp. It was odd to think that it only happened a year ago.

“Um, yeah, definitely crazy. I feel I’ve come so far and had to overcome so many obstacles. I don’t think I would’ve been able to return if not for the many people around me who helped me during my recovery.”

He nods, “Anyone specifically who made a big difference?”

“My girlfriend. She was and is my rock, looking back at it I realize how much of an asshole I was to her and how much she looked out for me when she didn’t have to,” you explain, a love-struck smile on your face. Tom chuckles at your expression before asking the next question,

“So, was there any mantra or saying that inspired you over the last year?” Your smile gets wider and you nod excitedly. “There was? What was it?” You look over at Sydney before answering.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

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