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#if his former friends could see him again what would they say?
a-b-riddle · 24 hours
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 days
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Too Close to Saying Goodbye
Summary: Tav gets injured fighting the Absolute, and its too close of a call for everyone but especially Karlach
Warnings: typical in game violence, somewhat graphic depictions of blood/injury, near death experience, angst(happy end!)
Authors note: my first time writing for BG3 and Karlach, so go easy on me please if its not the greatest
Word count: 1956
Karlach Masterlist BG3 Masterlist
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What you currently stand in was once, no doubt, a beautiful open field near the forest. Now however, it has become a shell of its former self. The once green grass is now a dull brown, and it's marred by trails of upturned dirt that lead off into the distance towards a camp of Absolute forces that have clearly been stationed here a while.
   In the distance you notice a few pillars of smoke rising into the sky, showing you exactly where the enemy is camped down at. With the hours growing late, you assume the fires mean that they've decided to settle in for the evening. You wager this means only a few will be out and about on their regular patrols, which would be easy enough to deal with if needed, so it should be the most opportune time to take your companions closer in order to observe and see just what you're dealing with.
   This however, proves to be the wrong decision. For some reason, a small squad had been out on a patrol. And unfortunately for you, they had spotted you snooping nearly at once. There isn’t time for your party to hide or retreat, making a fight the only option. It truly isn't ideal with how they outnumber you, but you trust in the strength and strategy of your companions.
   As the battle commences everything seems to be going smoothly. You’ve watched all your friends land a multitude of blows against the enemy, even managing to down a handful of the cultists despite being outnumbered. But, as all things with your little group, nothing can ever be as easy as it initially seems.
   You had just managed to take down a rather large Orc, and were wrenching your blade free from his flesh when a Drow decided to take advantage of the situation and charged at you. You'd managed to spot him in your peripheral area in time to block the first blow with your bracers, but without a weapon you were not so lucky when the second blow came. And with a sickening squelch, the blade plunges into your shoulder.
   Your yell echoes across the area, and Karlachs eyes frantically begin searching for you. Relief floods her when she finds you, but that relief is short lived when she notices the precarious situation you're in. 
   “NO!” she shouts, quickly felling the cultist in front of her before dashing in your direction. The drow pulls his blade free, causing blood to start pouring from the wound in a manner that has panic flaring within her, especially when she watches your knees give out as you crumble to the ground.
   Worried that any time wasted fighting could prove fatal to you she summons all her strength and when she strikes, she easily cleaves the cultist responsible for your pain in two. His body falls to the ground not far from where you lay, and her bloodied ax clatters down next seconds before her arms are pulling you into her lap, “No, no, no. Tav!?”
   You hiss in pain as something presses against your wound, but recognizing the warmth that now encompasses you, you call out, “Karlach”
   “I’m here” she replies, pulling you even closer as tears cloud her vision, “I’ve got you”
   You smile, but it lacks your usual warmth and doesn't quite meet your eyes. This makes her stomach drop even further and her eyes frantically start searching the battle again, this time for signs of the raven haired Cleric, or even one of the druids. But to her frustration she can currently spot none of them.
   “I'm sorry” you mumble, effectively getting her gaze back on you, “I really did wanna explore the city with you….”
   She shakes her head, “Don't talk like that. We'll make it to Baldur's Gate. Together.”
   “Karlach…” 
    “I'm the one that's got limited time, remember, not you. So, you're gonna be just fine” She responds, clearly in denial of just how bad the situation is, “Just need some healing and rest. That's all”
   The smell of your blood being spilled had brought another of your companions to your side, and though he's used to the sight of the coppery smelling liquid, when he sees the sheer amount of yours that's soaking into the grass, even he became queasy 
   “Karlach, is Tav…are they…?”
   “Astarion, they need healing! Please get help!” she responds in such a panicked tone that he knows the situation is as serious as it seems, if not worse
   He sprints off in a blur to where he had last seen the Cleric, he'd be damned if he was going to fail you now. No, not after all you've done for him, or for the others. No, you were truly too good of a traveling companion and friend to die so soon, and like this. He’d get you help. You would be fine.
   As his footsteps fade into the sounds of the battle that still surrounds you, you become all too aware of just how bad the situation is. The dizziness and black edges to your vision tell you that you're losing too much blood far too quickly, and even if Astarion does find Shadowheart, with all the chaos going on there's no guarantee that she’ll even be in a position to come to aid you. 
   So despite the pain you're currently in, you're determined to offer some comfort to your beloved tiefling who cradles you in her embrace. You somehow manage to lift a hand to her cheek, and your thumb wipes at her tears, “You are truly incredible Karlach. How lucky I am….to have gotten to spend the time that I have with you….”
   “Please, just stay with me love. Help will be her, it will”
  You exhale shakily, “I’m not sure I can…
   The way your voice is so small, so unlike you, has her bottom lip trembling and her grip on you becomes impossibly tighter, “Please, you can’t go yet…”
   When Astarion spots Shadowheart a twinge of hope twists in his chest, and he wastes no time in running up to her and grabbing ahold of her forearm, “You're needed!”
   “I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, in case that's gone without notice!” she reptiles, pulling her arm free to cast a firebolt at an advancing goblin
   “I don’t care how bloody busy you are! Tavs dying, damn it!!” he snaps, “Go tend to them and leave these bastards to me!”
   Her eyes widen for a brief second before determination takes over her features. She nods to the pale elf in understanding before darting off in the direction he had come from. Astarion swallows the lump of anxiety in his throat before turning to face the few goblins that she had been dealing with.
   By the time Shadowheart reaches you she's almost afraid that she's too late, but the slight raise of your chest calms her fears, if only temporarily. A blue-green glow encompasses her hands as she kneels next to you, opposite Karlach.
   “Tell me you can fix them Fringe, I can’t fucking lose them”
   The Cleric takes a deep breath as she looks down at your wound. Normally something this bad wouldn’t be a problem, it would exhaust her but she could manage. But after using up as much energy fighting the cultists as she has…she's worried she may not be able to fully mend you.
   “I…I can only try my best Karlach”
    Though she nods in an attempt to remain stoic, a small sob does escape her, and it successfully breaks the half elfs heart. Shadowheart focusses her all on your shoulder then, letting the mending magic flow from her hands and onto your shoulder. The wound begins to close up and your breathing remains steady, which are both good signs. All that's left to worry about is the bloodloss. 
   The feeling of your flesh stitching itself back together is definitely strange, but what's even stranger is how it doesn’t seem to be helping your faint feeling. Your lover must be able to sense your confusion, or at least the fact that something is still off.
   “What is it? What's wrong?”
   Your brows furrow and you choke on your words before going limp in her hold. Panic completely overtakes her then, “Tav?!”
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   The sound of feet padding against the dirt nearby is the first thing that your senses register, the next thing is the small stuffed bear tucked under the arm that had been uninjured in battle. You smile softly before opening up your eyes, it takes a moment to adjust to the dimly lit surroundings but once your eyes adjust you can see the silhouettes of everyone sitting around the campfire in the distance. Well, everyone except Scratch and the Owlbear cub who are laying at your feet, standing guard. And Karlach of course, whose pacing was the source of the sound that had likely made you stir.
   “Karlach” you croke out, grabbing her attention immediately 
    She's beside you in a second, her warm hands gently cupping your face and caressing your healed injury, “Oh thank the Gods”
   “I think thanking Shadowheart may be more appropriate”
   A smirk crosses her features, “Oh believe me, I’ll get to that. But right now…Right no I just want to look at you. And hold you.”
   You nod your approval and she gently scoops you into her arms. You return her hug and feel your heart clench in your chest as she nuzzles against your neck, letting her tears land against your bare skin, “Oh, love…”
   She shakes slightly with a sob, “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me? You had me scared, so fucking scared, soldier.”
   “I’m sorry love, I’ll be more careful in the future.”
   “Damn right you will be. You won’t be allowed to fight more than an arm's length away from me, and I mean that!” she clarifies, snaking her tail around your waist, “I can’t lose you. Not after everything.”
   You hum and run a hand through her hair, trying your best to ignore that pit in your stomach that tells you that all too soon you’ll be the one in her shoes. Begging her to stay, begging for more time and cursing the unfairness of it all.
   “I’m not going anywhere, not while I have you”
   After a few more seconds of soaking in your presence she pulls away to rest her forehead against yours, “We should go see the others, they we worried about you too”
   You lean forward and press your lips against hers briefly, “Alright, let's show them all I’m alright”
   She helps you get to your feet, but when she sees how wobbly you still are she opts to just carry you over to everyone, “Look who's awake!”
   Everyone's heads turn to look at the tiefling carrying you, and the look of relief on their faces as Karlach holds you brings a smile to your face. It truly warms your heart to see just how close this group of misfits has become.
   “Glad to see you're alright, I wouldn’t have known how to comfort any of these weirdos if you weren’t” Astarion quips, but you see the real amount of care and worry in his eyes
   “Well, I can’t leave you in that situation now, can I? Guess I’ll need to be more careful so I can stick around”
   “That would be preferred, yes” the Cleric agrees, offering you a small smile which you return
   Gale passes you and Karlach both bowls of stew, “I agree, we all would be quite lost without you to guide us. But let's stop being melancholy and enjoy this night together”
   You smile and glance back at your lover, “Yes, lets”
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theemporium · 4 months
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[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).
series masterlist
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It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.
Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes. 
You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous. 
It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.
“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!” 
Daniel only laughed harder. 
It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour. 
“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”
“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”
The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”
“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”
“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”
“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”
“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.
Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!” 
“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”
Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”
“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response. 
“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.” 
“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.
“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.
You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.” 
Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”
“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.
“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him. 
“We got excited!” You defended. 
“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered. 
“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.
“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.
“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”
As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.
Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend. 
You were very wrong.
...
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...
You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend. 
With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead. 
There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.
“There’s two!”
Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.
“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”
You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?” 
“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.” 
You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.” 
“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.” 
“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned. 
“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”
You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”
“Hey,” Logan frowned.
“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell. 
Alex snorted. 
“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face. 
“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.” 
“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes. 
“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.” 
Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.” 
“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes. 
And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down. 
...
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It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted. 
It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness. 
It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible. 
Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you. 
Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix. 
You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy. 
It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track. 
So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend. 
Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it. 
“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”
“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”
“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours. 
“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,” you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”
“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again. 
“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses. 
“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass. 
In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.
“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!” 
“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”
If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you. 
You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes. 
“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.
“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.
“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod. 
“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”
Logan hesitated. “Promise?”
“Promise.” 
Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.
Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips. 
Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”
“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly. 
You blinked. “Huh?” 
“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?” 
Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?” 
“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face. 
You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?” 
“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article. 
“WHAT?!”
“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”
You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?” 
“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.
“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?” 
As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice. 
This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.
“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.” 
“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.” 
“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”
“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”
“Well, he definitely takes after you!” 
Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.
“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”
Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”
“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.” 
“Oh,” Oscar murmured. 
“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.
“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.” 
“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”
Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”
“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”
Lando only laughed harder. 
“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.
You shook your head.
“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”
“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”
“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.
“Still.”
“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”
Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”
“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”
You rolled your eyes.
...
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others
landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?
view all 15,866 comments
user aww cute!
user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT
user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family
yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)
oscarpiastri ew
yourusername you're too young to be on instagram
logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram
yourusername you're grounded
user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS
user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf
user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS
maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere
danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second
yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa
danielricciardo GRANDPA???
user nothing will ever beat this rumour
user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID
user TWO KIDS
user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN
landonorris 👀👀👀
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4K notes · View notes
dramaticals · 4 months
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did you hear what i said?
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pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader
summary: after a year of secretly dating, theo breaks things off when classes start up again. it's now christmas eve and he's back with a figurative box of regret / requested by anonymous.
author's note: angst! there will be a part two with fluff, but i just needed to get this out since i've been writing this for too long. (please) feel free to leave angsty requests in my inbox because this is the genre that gets my gears going! but i make no promises on resolutions and happy endings ♡
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"You look happier."
Theodore stands in front of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, his hands shoved into his pockets. His presence garners murmurs all around, even though the Great Hall was emptier than usual for the holidays. The sight of him makes your breath catch. It's been three months since you last spoke to him, but the memory of that night resurfaces, ripping open the wound on your healing heart.
It was back in September.
Theo had passed you a note in Potions, asking you to meet him in the Astronomy Tower after dark. It wasn't a peculiar ask, so you didn't think much of it at the time. The Astronomy Tower had become your and Theo's spot. A quiet place for the two of you to just exist—no interruptions and no expectations from the outside world. Your house rivalry was nothing in that tower. It was just you and Theo.
The two of you would spend hours hiding there, often cuddled on top of a lush blanket you had hidden nearby. You'd talk about anything and everything with him, from learning about each other's likes and dislikes to venting about classes and classmates. On nights where the two of you favoured serenity, it was never unpleasant. You'd embrace the quiet, exchanging sweet kisses all the while enjoying the comfort and protection of his arms.
That night in September was different, though. You sensed it the minute you ascended the steps to see Theo standing stiffly by the railing, his gaze concentrating on a bird on the horizon.
Theo didn't even turn to face you—acknowledge you—before he was muttering the words that shattered your heart into pieces.
"I'm over this." Theo said, his tone void of any emotion. His hand clutched onto the railing so tightly that his knuckles were pale.
Stunned silence fell over you. You just looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"Did you hear what I said?" Theo turned to you then, and you could see the pained expression on his features. But then something shifted, and his expression turned cold. "I'm breaking up with you."
His words on their own were harsh, but the inflection on each syllable felt like he was personally twisting a serrated knife into your heart.
"I don't understand." You said. "Why? What did I—"
"I feel like you're getting attached, and I think we've run our course." Theo interrupted. His eyes, the ones you became so accustomed to, were dark and flooded with an expression even you weren't familiar with. Theo scoffed. "You didn't actually think we'd last, did you?"
Maybe it was the naive and hopeless romantic in you, but you truly believed you would. House rivalries, judgemental friends, and family expectations were merely obstacles the two of you would deal with together. You just felt so strongly about him, and you were certain he felt the same about you.
"Did you hear what I said?" The Theodore standing in front of you jerks you back to the present.
You blink, and you nearly drop your fork.
"I heard you," you say firmly, returning your attention back to the half-eaten plate in front of you. You make yourself look busy and uncaring (as much as you could with food and a full stomach), as if Theodore's sudden presence had no effect on you.
Theodore shifts in his spot, his eyes darting to the empty seat in front of you, silently contemplating whether he should take it or cut his losses and leave. Reluctantly, he settles on the former. This makes you tense, your lips pursing as he sits. It doesn't help that you were highly attentive to the whispers; your classmates were surely speculating why Theodore Nott would be choosing the company of a muggle-born on Christmas Eve. You put down your fork, bring your gaze to his, and let out an exhausted breath.
"Nott, what do you want?"
Hearing his last name from you makes his jaw clench. It was cold and formal, stripped of any history you two shared.
"Just wanted to know if you were as happy as you looked."
"You have no right to that type of information anymore."
"Humour me."
You glare at him. Theodore looks back at you with such shy tenderness that your gaze softens slightly.
Am I happy? you think.
Some days, sure. But most days, you find yourself wandering back to that dreadful night in September. Even after all these months, you still wonder if you had just said something different or fought back instead of taking it, maybe you and Theo would still be together.
It was why Ginny, the only poor soul who was aware of your relationship with Theo, had set you up with Michael Corner, a cute Ravenclaw boy in your year. He was smart, funny, and occasionally sweet, but he wasn't Theodore Nott.
Still, you persisted. You allowed yourself to indulge in the idea of being with Michael because the brooding Slytherin boy who had your heart had made his choice. You went on a few dates with Michael; he'd walk you to class, sit with you during Quidditch matches, and sometimes—when he was feeling courageous—he'd plant a kiss on your lips in the middle of the bustling corridor.
"I am." You lie, and you bite down on the insides of your cheeks. What good would it do to admit you weren't, especially to the cause of your turmoil?
Theodore watches you, practically analyzing your features. He doesn't have to say anything for you to know he didn't believe you, and you hated that—hated him, for having been so attentive to you that your tells were obvious.
"You are?" Theodore questions.
"That's what I said, didn't I?"
"I think you and I have a habit of saying things we don't mean."
His careful words and wistful gaze make you flush with embarrassment and anger. To this day, you still weren't sure why Theo had broken things off with you, and it was something that had kept you up countless nights. Through gritted teeth and cheeks stinging with remembered hurt, you say, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Theodore starts, his eyes flickering around to ensure no one was listening in. While a few lingering glances were sent your way, everyone was spread out far enough that it'd be hard to eavesdrop. He drops his voice anyway. "I shouldn't have said what I did that night. I didn't mean it. I don't mean it."
The anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach erupts, your eyes blazing. "Is this some sick game to you? It's been three months, Theodore. I spent three months crying over you and wondering what the hell I did to you to be so bloody cruel. And now when I'm finally ready to move on from you, you come back to tell me you... you didn't mean it?" The last words leave a dirty, salty taste in your mouth.
"No, no," Theodore shakes his head, swallowing thickly as you recounted the months of hell. He hadn't been doing any better either, but Theo was generally good at hiding his afflictions. Numbing the pain with weed and alcohol were among his favourite remedies. "It's not a game. It was never a game. You should know me well enough to know that I would never mean any of the things I said."
"Know you?" You almost laugh. You had replayed the breakup and the weeks leading up to it in your mind countless times, trying to make sense of the bullshit non-reason he had given when he broke up with you but nothing made sense. The whole thing made you spiral, questioning everything that had ever happened between you two. "I'm actually convinced I never really knew you, because the guy I knew would never have done that to me."
Having had enough of the conversation, you get up, leaving your half-eaten plate and a pained Theodore at the Gryffindor table. You're almost past the door of the Great Hall when Theo, as a last-ditch effort, grabs a hold of your wrist, hauling you to a stop. You let out a small huff and turn to face him.
"Meet me in the Astronomy Tower after dark." Theodore says softly, almost pleadingly. He makes a conscious effort to ignore all the prying eyes that turned.
"Because that worked out so well for me last time."
"Just—please. If you want to continue never speaking to each other again after that, then fine. But at least let me explain."
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You had every intention of ignoring Theodore’s request. He didn’t deserve a chance to explain—the statute of limitations for explaining ended months ago. And yet, you found yourself sneaking out of the Gryffindor common room and up to the Astronomy Tower, inebriated by the countless what-ifs and string of memories: Theo sneaking a kiss on your lips as everyone turned to view whatever Hagrid had for Care of Magical Creatures, Theo resting his hand on your thigh during potions, Theo winking at you as you watched him play Quidditch.
“You’re here.” Theodore says, just as you reach the top of the staircase. He was sitting by the railing.
“I am,” you say as you walk toward him reluctantly. You settle next to him.
Theodore looks at you, and it looks like he’s about to say something, but then he shuts his eyes, shakes his head, and sighs.
You’ve never seen him at a loss for words. He was intentionally silent, sure, but his quick wit never failed him.
“I’ve regretted that night every day, you know.” He speaks up, his solemn eyes trained on yours. “I replay it over and over.”
Theodore’s gaze is unrelenting, brimming with seriousness and a vulnerability that you haven’t seen before. You tear your gaze away from his because the more he talks and looks at you like this, the more you find it hard to breathe.
“Then why do it? Why say those things?” You manage to ask.
Theodore’s jaw clenches. “Lesser of two evils.”
When you look at him with a confused expression, he continues, “It was better to lose you on those terms than to lose you completely.”
Silence falls on both of you, filling the space like a thick fog.
“I lost my mom when I was seven.” Theodore explains, his eyes darkening. “A freak accident.”
Out of the year you and Theo dated in secret, he had rarely mentioned his mom. And if he did, it was small tidbits—precious memories. Regardless of how small and insignificant the memory would seem to others, you gathered how important Theo’s mom was to him. Underneath Theo’s stoic expressions and calculating demeanour was a softness to Theo that could only be accredited to his mom.
“She got caught in the crossfire between some death eaters.” Theodore says, his expression pained. He drops his gaze now, but you keep your eyes on him. There’s a mixture of grief and anger that flashes across his features, and it takes everything in you to hold yourself back from reaching for him. To comfort him.
“It took me years to get over it. I don’t even think I am yet—I’m still angry at my father for allowing this shit into our lives and for continuing to do it.” Theodore says, letting out an exasperated breath. You knew what everyone else knew about Theo’s father—he was a blood purist, rumoured to be loyal to you-know-who. He’d hate you the moment he’d find out you were muggle-born.
Theo meets your gaze now, and it’s your turn to feel winded. It was like you were looking at your Theo again. The sweet, sarcastic, pain-in-your-ass-but-in-a-good-way Theo. “I lost my mom, who meant the world to me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I lost you too. So I pushed you away. I figured it was best to cut our losses before I pulled you into something you had no reason being in. Before I lost you permanently.”
“What’s changed?” You ask, shaking your head. His words were hard to process, but the pieces of the last few months were beginning to click into place. “I’m still me, and last I heard, your dad was still your dad.”
“I realized that, in a way, I was kind of like my dad.”
“What?”
“I mean,” Theo says. “My dad never gave any of us a choice. Not me, and not my mom. We always had to go along with him and deal with the consequences of his actions. I took a choice away from you, and you just had to deal with it. I don’t want to do that anymore. I still think I did it for the right reasons, but I regret it. I want to be with you. I should have told you what I was worried about—told you about the risks of being with me, so we could make a decision together.”
Together.
That’s all you wanted. You were more than willing to have dealt with any obstacle that was thrown your way, so long as you had Theo by your side.
But that was three months ago. And while his words brought goosebumps, butterflies, and heart palpitations, they also brought a slew of conflicting feelings. You understood why he broke things off now, and although his reasoning was well-intended, it didn’t excuse the fact that you had spent the last three months in a state of despair and heartbreak. You didn’t eat as much, your grades dropped, and you couldn’t even look at him until recently in fear of tears and the overwhelming rush of memories.
“So?”
“Theo,” you say softly. Your eyes search his face.
There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sound of his name. Not Theodore, not Nott. Theo.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He exhales sharply at your response, and his expression shifts as he turns to face the horizon. He wanted you to say it was worth the risk and that you wanted to be with him as much as he did. He wanted you to forgive him for what he did to you. “It’s fine.”
“No—I just... I need to think.” You say quickly. Your heart was screaming for him, but your brain was weary. And if the past three months taught you anything, it was that you needed to act with your brain and not your heart. “I just need time. This was a lot to process.”
“Right, of course.” Theo says with a curt nod. He turns to you again, offering a weak smile. It was his heart’s turn to break. “Well, thanks for coming tonight and letting me explain. I guess, just let me know.”
You watch him stand, brush the dirt off his robes, and turn away. Just as he reaches the staircase back down, he looks back at you. Your eyes catch his gorgeous arctic eyes, your cheeks burning and your heart racing.
"Merry Christmas, by the way." Theo says before he descends down the stairs.
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anthurak · 3 months
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So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, here’s a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Husk’s status as a former Overlord may factor into things.
Because I have a hunch it’s actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angel’s contract.
Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:
Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as we’ve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.
Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angel’s freedom. Alastor returns Husk’s power as an Overlord because he’s curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.
Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy he’s doing this for what he’s doing to ‘keep them safe’ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play later…
As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is… well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.
Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Husk’s own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.
What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentino’s shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.
However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.
Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.
And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlie’s head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.
Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one who’s going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlie’s true power.
And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlie’s ‘Devil Form’ is almost certainly going to be saved for when she’s forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.
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Text
imagine bucky being drunk
warning: kinda spicy at the end
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"He's doing it again."
Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.
"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.
"He's so cute when he's drunk."
"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."
Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."
Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.
"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.
Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."
Steve groaned. "Come on, man."
You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."
"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."
"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.
"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."
Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.
Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.
"....so cute I could eat."
"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."
Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.
"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.
"I am but pure of heart, James."
Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.
"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.
Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.
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yoonbroom · 9 months
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SEVENTEEN FIC RECS
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a list of seventeen fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 also if there wasn't a summary on the fic I just included a little paragraph or the request! now onto the recs ↓
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CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
HELLO TUTORIAL - @97-liners
oneshot, fluff, college au, frat au
it’s your final year of college, and you’ve been elected president of your sorority. this is all great and fine, but as the semester goes on, you find yourself having repeated run-ins with the president of the fraternity next door in a series of unfortunate coincidences (that might not actually be coincidences, as you come to discover). or: in which you’re trying to deal with your crush on seungcheol in a normal way, but the meddling kids are making it harder than it needs to be.
FRACTURED PARENTING, PT.2 - @berriesandjunnie
oneshot angst, fluff, idol au, separated parents au, enemies to lovers
parenting can be an emotional rollercoaster when you’re far from divorced and the flames are far from dying.
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YOON JEONGHAN
UNTITLED - @userjuyo
drabble, fluff, est relationship
"i just know than jeonghan would tease his s/o a lot, but whenever they went “hannie :(“ he would literally MELT like he’d just be like “okay sweetheart i’m sorry 🥺” and the members would be like ????? BC HE WON’T LET THEM LIVE but it’s his baby so &lt;;3"
UNTITLED - @wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship
“what if crabs think that fish can fly?” your question is whispered into the darkness of your bedroom — you gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully, while jeonghan curls up beside you.
OF RAINY NIGHTS AND ROSES - @chenfleur
oneshot, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship
In the heat of the moment, Jeonghan grows careless with his words. Now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean.
DAISIES - @viastro
oneshot, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers
the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. 
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JOSHUA HONG
BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - @chocosvt
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, best friends brother
joshua happens to be your best friend’s older brother. he’s pretty, and he’s got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.
IT TAKES TWO - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, fluff, idol au, parent au, est relationship
a family is a little scary when your partner has over millions of fans.
UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship
"it feels like the sky has only just welcomed the sun when joshua tries to get up to leave."
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WEN JUNHUI
HEAVEN COULDN'T WAIT FOR YOU - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, angst, idol au
i just couldn’t stand to see you leaving but heaven couldn’t wait for you.
HAPPY ENDING - @junkissed
one shot, angst, fluff, marriage, est relationship
a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time.
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KWON SOONYOUNG
LET ME TRY AGAIN - @papermatisse
oneshot, angst, fluff, exes to lovers, parent au
Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?
(UN)TRADITIONAL - @neonun-au
oneshot, fluff, wedding au, est relationship
"The digital clock on the hotel night stand flashes the next minute as it passes. A re-run of Law & Order: SVU drones on in the background as you sit at the edge of the bed, staring sleeplessly at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the closet door. "
VOWELS AND VERACITY - @hansolmates
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, teacher au, single parent
after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher.
BE SWEET - @heartkyeom
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, royalty, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers
“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance. “That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth. You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.
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JEON WONWOO
FOR THE BOOKS - @trblsvt
oneshot, fluff, teacher au, est relationship
wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.
HOW TO FALL - @because-of-a-friend
oneshot, fluff, angst, idol au
"hi!! <3 i love ur acc and i was wondering if you'd be able to write an imagine where you're besties with joshua and he invites you to meet the rest of seventeen for the first time and you instantly fall for wonwoo? maybe some angst but overall fluff? thank you!! no rush!! i love your work!!!"
UNTITLED - @/97-liners
oneshot, fluff, royalty au, friends to lovers, childhood friends
"a royalty au where you’re the heir to the throne and wonwoo is your shy (and lowkey bumbling) royal advisor…. he’s smart and always has his head stuck in a book but he’s also painfully awkward and clueless to how deeply in love with him you are. until your parents decide it’s time for you to get married. and suddenly you’re inundated by suitor after suitor, and wonwoo is quizzing them on their credentials and doubting their suitability for you, this one makes brash political decisions, this one spends too freely, this one has no tact for diplomacy. until one day, you turn to him and ask, “you’ve hated every single one of them. who, then, do you think i should marry?” and wonwoo blushes red and presses his lips together."
SCANDAL, PT.2, PT.3, PT.4- @fantasyescapes17
series, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, regency au
this is part of an extensive series that includes other members! you can check it out ⤳ here
The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.
MEET CUTE OF THE CENTURY - @lovelyhan
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
MARRIAGE - @yikesmary
drabble, fluff, parent au, est relationship
where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true.
BIRTHDAY SURPRISE - @/yikesmary
oneshot, fluff, parent au, est relationship
where you and nari try to make breakfast and a cake before wonwoo wakes up… if only your daughter knew what the word “surprise” meant.
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LEE JIHOON
GUITAR STRING - @leejungchans
oneshot, fluff, angst, royalty au
"“Take me away.” Jihoon’s elegant fingers, previously plucking at his guitar strings, freeze at your words. The soothing, lullaby-like chords he had been playing echo into the inky darkness, carried away by the chilly night breeze."
WE'LL BE OK - @atinykidult
drabble, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” for hurt!Jihoon
LIVE - @wondernus
oneshot, fluff, idol au, est relationship
having just finished composing a song a few hours ago, jihoon starts a live on his phone to sing to those who are feeling a little lonely at night. little does he know, your sleeping figure could be seen in the corner of his little livestream, causing his fans to go crazy.
MWHA - @cheolism
oneshot, fluff, est relationship
three times you said "mwah" at the end of a kiss and one time jihoon said it back
IM DATING WOOZI - @jihoonotes
oneshot, fluff, smau, est relationship, idol au
y/n is in a public relationship w/ woozi of SVTZ and decides to make a twitter acc to support jihoon, but SVTZ fans seem to think they're delusional.
JIHOON'S PUPPY - @rubyreduji
oneshot, angst, fluff, college au
jihoon can’t seem to shake the puppy dog who keeps following him around or the teasing he gets for it
HEARTSTRINGS - @wavelikewhat
oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers, idol au
You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer.
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LEE SEOKMIN
WARM ME UP ! - @ponkwan
drabble, fluff, est relationship
the one where you’re on your third date with seokmin.
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KIM MNGYU
HOT OR COLD? - @jjuniehao
oneshot, fluff, est relationship
when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…
BOYFRIEND PHOTOS - @babyleostuff
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au
a sunny date spent with your precious boyfriend
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XU MINGHAO
THE LETTER - @toruro
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, brothers best friend, childhood friends to lovers, idol au
in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.
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BOO SEUNGKWAN
A BEAUTIFUL LIFE - @sungbeam
oneshot, fluff, childhood friends, est relationship
Boo Seungkwan asked you to marry him beneath the shade of an orange tree.
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CHWE VERNON
ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE - @suhnshinehaos
series, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, arranged marriage, smau
the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much
UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au
“vernon, we need to talk.”
OR, WOULD YOU RATHER IT BE ME? - @thepixelelf
oneshot, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au, soulmate au
A detested soulmark, a friendship over a decade in the making, and an unexpected proposal from one friend to another… what could possibly go wrong?
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LEE CHAN
SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, parent au, idol au
no matter what stage in life you’re at, or after all these years, you can count on his hyungs to still treat him the same.
08:23 AM - @wheeboo
drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au
in which chan is late to dance practice.
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want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!
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whorekneecentral · 5 months
Text
Old Friends
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Lance Stroll x Vettel!Fem!Reader
Warnings: big brother seb!!!, queen hanna appearance + a mick and gina cameo, lance has a crush, alcohol and the consumption of, being tipsy/kinda drunk, mentions/ insinuated that someone cheated, nipple play, oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, seb teasing the two of you.
Word Count: 2,492
Author's Note: this is one of my favs so far. I couldn't write lance and not put in seb, it just wouldn't be me.
merry smutmas series
--
Lance gets an invitation to an old teammate’s place to ring in the new year but he finds himself too distracted by someone in particular to care about the ball dropping.
The invite came in the mail; a dying trade his former teammate would tell him.
A little brown envelope with silver glitter all over it, surely his girls helped him put it together. The card inside was hand written, Sebastian's scrawled cursive with pictures drawn in pencil crayon and covered in glitter at the bottom.
You're invited to the Vettel household on December 31st at 9pm for a New Year's Eve celebration.
Please rsvp by December 22nd.
With love,
Sebastian, Hanna & the Vettel children.
Lance didn't have plans, his parents were doing their own things and Chloe would be in Australia with Scotty and his family so he took his phone out and texted Seb right then.
To Seb: Hey man! Got your invite, tell the girls I said their drawings were adorable. Just letting you know I'll be there :)
It took Seb 10 minutes to reply.
From Seb: Thanks Lance! The girls say hello and thank you. We can't wait to see you.
--
Lance finds himself on the Vettel's doorstep on New Year's Eve, a bottle of some expensive Swiss wine in hand. He knocks on the door and Hanna opens it with a little boy in her arms.
"Lance!" She smiles, stepping to the side for him to come in.
"It's so nice to see you," the younger driver says, kissing her cheek before saying hello to their son.
"Please make yourself at home. Food and drinks are in the kitchen and Sebastian is somewhere around here." She tells him, rocking the sleepy boy, "you know how he is." She laughs, shutting the door.
Lance nods, smiling at her as he follows her into the house. The place is full, he showed up around 10 rather than the 9pm invite but it doesn't seem to make a difference. Everyone is all over the place; he goes over to say hello to Seb and then bumps into Mick who was there with his girlfriend, sister and her boyfriend.
He does in fact make himself at home, putting the wine in the kitchen before getting himself a drink. His red solo cup has some vodka in it and he spins around, looking for the cranberry juice. He sees everything but that.
"Need help?" A voice comes from behind him and before he turns, he knows exactly who it is. He smiles when he does turn, now face to face with her. "Hi y/n."
"Hey Lance," you smile, "what are you looking for?" You walk over, hugging the man hello.
"Cranberry juice." He tells you and you nod, walking to the fridge to grab it.
Lance watches you, admiring your outfit; a slinky silver top and a black mini skirt that frankly wasn't very family friendly but was on par with the theme of the night. He had met you when Seb became his teammate at Aston, you had a habit of following your brother around the world when you got bored of your life. You were only a year younger than Lance but he was intimidated by you.
You were just as bubbly and fun as Seb, loud and out there but in Vettel fashion, you could become broody at the snap of your fingers; something that only happened if someone fucked over your brother or at least that's when Lance noticed it.
Now if Mick had walked into the kitchen then, he'd be teasing his friend.
He was aware of the crush his friend had on his other friend. Mick had encouraged Lance to talk to you time and time again but he could never work up the courage. When he finally did, you were in a relationship and you had been since.
"Here," you hand the bottle over to him, "I put it in the fridge. It gets gross.. well even more gross when it's warm."
Lance smiles, "thanks." He pours the juice into his cup, before settling it back into the fridge. In the meantime, you had been filling a few shot glasses with what looked like tequila.
"Are you driving tonight?" You asked, downing one of the shots. Lance shook his head, "took an Uber."
"Perfect," you handed a shot over to him, picking up another one for yourself. "Bottoms up, Stroll." You tapped your glass to his and down the tequila.
Lance makes a face, clearing his throat which makes you laugh. "So, how are you? How's Fernando as a teammate?" You ask him, pouring some soda into a glass.
"I'm okay. He's pretty okay too, he's no Sebastian Vettel though."
You smiled, "that's what I like to hear. I've been keeping track, you did great this season."
"Yeah? You think so?" He asks and you nod, leaning on the counter as you take a sip of your soda. "Thanks," he smiles, taking a sip from his glass in hopes that it covers the blush on his face. "So uh.. how have you been? How's your boyfriend?"
"I'm good," you smiled, "as for him? Who knows, he's probably fucking some model somewhere."
Your words catch him off guard, Lance chokes on his vodka. Your brows furrowed, his hand rubbing at his chest as you looked at him. "Sorry, I just... I take you two aren't together ?"
"No," you shook your head, "it's whatever though."
"Sorry to hear that," he tells you and you shrug, smiling at him. You were about to say something but Gina was shouting for you, something about shots. "Excuse me," you smiled at Lance, picking up the bottle of tequila and the pack of shot glasses before heading over.
As much as Lance wanted to be sorry about your relationship ending, he couldn't be. This must be some sort of gift from god, for you two to be in the same place while you're single and he had enough liquor in him to tell you the truth.
--
The hours go by and it's inching closer to midnight with each passing second and you were dancing around the kitchen as you got a snack. A slice of pizza held between your teeth as you poured yourself a drink.
"Hey," you mumble, mouth full as you take the bite and hold the pizza. Lance smiles at you as he gets himself another drink. "Hey."
"You good?" You asked, setting your pizza on the counter. Lance nods, "perfect, you?"
"Yeah," you smiled, shimmying your shoulders as you danced your way over to the Canadian driver. He smiles, watching you. The many tequila shots added up over the night and the fact that the tiles were sticky from what seemed like spilled soda, caused you to slip and fall right into Lance.
His drink spills all over your very cute top. "Oh damn," you tsked, looking down at yourself. "Oh shoot, are you okay?" you asked, looking at him to see if anything got on him.
"I'm okay, are you?" His hands held your forearms, steadying you. "Do you need to change?"
"I probably should," you tell him and Lance nods for you to walk, his hand holding onto your arm to keep you steady. He knew the layout of the house, he had come over for dinner many times before and he had spent the night after one too many glasses of wine.
Lance walks you up the stairs, hands on your waist as you two head up. You walk into the guest room and Lance shuts the door, "are you okay ? Do you need help finding anything?" He looks at you as you sit on the bed.
You shook your head, "all good, Lance. Thank you."
He nods, taking that as his cue to leave so you could change. As he turns towards the door, you grab his hand. "Can you.. undo the knot?" You turned your back to him, pulling your hair up.
It was two single knots done up with a bow behind your neck and your mid back that kept your top up. Lance carefully undid the knot on your back, letting the strings fall to the sides and your bare back left exposed.
"The.. the other one too?" He asks and you nod, "please."
Lance is hesitant, but he reaches forward and pulls the string, undoing the knot. The silver fabric falls to the floor, the beading on it clings when it hits the floor.
Your back is still facing the driver, you've dropped your hair back down but it's abundantly obvious to Lance that he's stood in the room with you, while you were.. well, topless.
"I should.." he starts but you turn to face him, his eyes shifting down to steal a glance at your tits and he looks back up at your face - it took all but a second and he was but a man.
You smile, holding his jaw with your hand. "Stay."
"I really shouldn't." He whispers and you step closer, my chest pressed to his. "Why not?" You asked, standing on your tiptoes, lips ghosting over his.
He doesn't answer but he lets you kiss him, his cold hand rests on your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "You're drunk," he whispers against your neck and you shake your head, "I'm not."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" His eyes find yours when he pulls back and you nod. "I do."
"Okay," he says, kissing you again.
Your hands make quick work of his shirt, undone the buttons as he kisses down your neck to your chest. Lance has got an arm around you, his lips moving down towards your tits, his lips wrapping around your nipple.
The sound that leans your mouth was like heaven on earth to him; he can't wait to find out what other filthy sounds you could make.
It was much too loud downstairs for anyone to have a clue what was happening upstairs. The door was locked and he knew you had at least 40 minutes to midnight.
You push him away for a minute, the man looks at you confused as you scoot him back to the bed, letting him fall onto the soft mattress. Lance expects you to get on top of him, not sink to your knees in front of him.
"Baby-" "Shut up," you tell him, undoing his pants.
He smiles, carefully pulling your hair out of your face as your hand wraps around his cock. Lance bites back a groan, watching as your hand moves up and down slowly, your lips brushing over the tip.
"Please," he whispers and you smile, looking up at him through your lashes as you take him in your mouth. This time, he does groan out loud. "Fuck," he sighed, your hair into a make shift pony tail in his hand.
Your cheeks hallowed, head moving up and down. Lance watches your every movement, eyes fixed on you and everything you did; had he known, he would have spoken to you much sooner.
The stifled gag comes when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, eyes watering as you pull back a bit. Lance pulls you up, "as much as I want you to keep going, I wanna cum somewhere else."
"My mouth is just as good, Lance," you tell him, wiping the side of your lips with your thumb, sucking your finger. You don't miss the way his cock twitches at the action.
He smiles, "I'm sure it is, but c'mere."
You let him pull you up before you get on his lap, straddling him.
There was enough liquor in your systems to give you the courage to do things you wouldn't normally do but that you’d definitely remember. 
Thighs squished on either side of him and your arms over his shoulders. His hand slides down from your hip to your ass, giving it a little squeeze. He smiles at you, admiring you. "Now, are you gonna stare at me all night or fuck me like I know you've been wanting too?"
For the second time that night, Lance had been caught off guard by your words. "You.. knew?"
"Of course I did, your staring wasn't exactly discreet, babe." You smile, pinching his cheek before you kiss him.
Your skirt bunched up on your hips, panties pulled to the side as you sank down onto his cock.
His hand on your hip guiding you, letting you bounce on his lap, his name falling from your lips.
Lance bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
Your hand tangles in his hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss him. You kiss all over his face, Lance's cheeks red not just from the lipstick you had on but from the blush forming on his cheeks; though if you asked him, he’d blame it on the liquor. 
"Fuck," you mumble, Lance's arms around you to keep you steady as you bounced on his lap, back arched slightly.
His hands squeeze at your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave behind fingerprints. 
“Mmm there,” you breathe, chest pressed to his. 
Lance's lips find your shoulder, he bites down softly when he feels you clench around him. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He whispers into your shoulder, peppering kisses over where he had just bitten. 
Humming, your arms are wrapped around him, over his shoulders when you cum, wetness covering his cock. It takes only a few more thrusts and Lance follows behind you, the two of you holding onto each other for a while. Your legs are like jelly when Lance helps you up, letting you fix yourself.
He too get redressed and you change into a different top, fixing your skirt and your makeup before turning to him.
"11:58, we can make the ball drop." You grab his hand, pulling him out of the room with you.
Everyone was in the living room, watching the TV and chatting as they awaited the count down. Your brother notices your return, as well as Lances, who stood behind you.
"Outfit change?" Seb asks, handing you a glass.
You nod, "spilled soda on my other top." You tell him, watching as he passed a glass to Lance.
Seb hums, nodding. "And you required Lance's assistance to change?" His brow raises and your cheeks go red. "I.. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah," Seb laughs, "whatever, y/n."
Lance smiles, his arm over your shoulder as the countdown plays; 10, 9, 8.
Your fingers interlock with his; 7, 6.
His cheek presses to yours; 4, 5.
"3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!" The people in the room cheer, friends hugging and lovers kiss. Lance leans over and you turn a bit, your lips pressing to his for a new years kiss.
"Happy New Year, Lance." You smiled, wiping the lipstick from his lips. "Happy New Year, Y/n."
---
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
Text
I trust you
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: when Bucky comes back from a mission with a knife wound there is only one person who can convince him to get help.
Words count: 3.5k
Warnings: angst and fluff, injury, wounds, low self-esteem, bucky has trust issues and needs a hug, touch starved bucky,
Author’s note: ugh just let me hold my baby and kiss his cute sad face omggg... anyways, idk why I rarely write angsty things, I really wanna do something new, so if you have any ideas let me know! 💘
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It was almost eight o'clock in the evening when FRIDAY reported that the guys' quinjet should arrive at the compound within an hour.
Steve, Sam, and Bucky went on another mission to destroy HYDRA almost two weeks ago. As usual, none of you could get any news from them because they couldn't risk giving away their whereabouts.
It was foolish to assume that you weren't worried about them. Especially for one person. Bucky.
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You and the former Winter Soldier met about six months ago when Steve and Sam first brought him to the tower. Steve was really worried about his old best friend, so before bringing Bucky to the tower, he talked with the team and asked all of you to give Bucky space.
Of course, you knew who he was from the day Steve found out that Bucky was alive. You have seen hundreds of reports and photographs on TV and on the Internet about The Winter Soldier, a ruthless killer who was always invisible but too damn good at his missions. He is the man who was turned into a weapon against his will.
When Steve introduced him, the whole team just nodded and shared awkward smiles, and Bucky himself kept his eyes on the ground. The whole situation was too intense, and no one, not even the funny and sarcastic Tony Stark, knew what to do or say. You actually thought that it might be rude to just stand there and look at him, as if he was a wild animal. Looking at this shy and uncomfortable-looking man before you, you knew that the smallest thing you could get him was to show that he was welcomed in this tower and that everyone was on his side. So, pushing away your own shyness and nerves, you stepped forward, holding out your right hand.
"Hi, my name is Y/N.  It's nice to meet you. I hope you’ll feel comfortable around here." You offered your warmest and most sincere smile, trying not to show nervousness.
Bucky slowly raised his head, genuinely surprised that anyone else had actually spoken to him besides Steve. It's nice to meet you. When had he heard those words for the last time?
Your eyes met, and you could have sworn all the air was out of your lungs. His eyes were even more beautiful than in those rare, high-quality photographs. He looked truly beautiful, with long hair and blue eyes, even though you could see that he was tired—physically and even more emotionally. You stood for what seemed like an eternity, looking at each other's faces, until Bucky got a little nudge from Steve on the arm.
Only then did his gaze move to your still outstretched arm. He hesitated a bit, unsure if he wanted to be touched or feel someone’s warm skin. It’s been too long since another person wanted to touch him without causing any harm. Even Steve gave him minimal physical contact. Always through the gloves or thick jacket, and Bucky didn’t know the true reason for this—whether it was because Steve cared about his feelings or he just didn't want to do that. But then Bucky looked at you again, and he already knew that you would be his death.
You were so beautiful. Probably the most attractive person he has ever seen. It was still morning, and he assumed that you planned to have a day for yourself because you had no makeup, your hair was a little bit messy, and you looked really comfy in a big sweater and a pair of black leggings. Oh, and he definitely noticed your cute, fluffy pink socks. Your eyes were full of friendliness and comfort, so it made him want to trust you. Your lips curled into a warm smile, and he had no doubt that you wanted to make him feel comfortable on the team.
Bucky lifted the corners of his lips slightly, meeting your eyes again, and held out his right hand to you, still feeling awkward. Especially when the whole team around you watches your interaction too closely.
 "Hi."
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When the Quinjet landed on the territory, you couldn't calm your pounding heart. Natasha, who was standing a couple of steps away from you, of course, noticed your condition but didn’t say anything and just sent you a reassuring smile. She knew you'd calm down when Bucky was by your side.
Sam got out first. He looked tired, had a couple of scratches and bruises, but was generally fine.
"Sam!  God, I'm glad you're okay." You said, running closer to him. "How is Bucky? And Steve? Are they okay?" Your worried eyes ran across his face, trying to find answers, but he only pursed his lips and lowered his eyes to the ground.
"Steve’s fine, and Bucky, um... I think you should see it yourself. And I think you need to have a serious talk with this idiot because he doesn't listen to us." Your brows furrowed, but before you could ask anything else, footsteps and stifled moans were heard behind Sam.
It felt like your heart stopped as soon as you saw him. Blood flowed from his temple and lip, and an already darkening bruise adorned his right cheekbone. Your eyes rushed down, trying to find all the damage, and then you saw it. Bucky kept his right hand on his left side. His entire palm was scarlet red as the blood passed through his thick suit and soaked through his fingers. Your mouth opened involuntarily, and your eyes instantly filled with tears.
Of course, this was not his first mission, but he always returned almost without any injuries or with something that quickly healed because of his supersoldier serum. It has never been so bad.
Before you knew it, you were already standing next to him. Tears flowed freely down your face, and you raised your hands up, wanting to touch him, but they froze in the air.
 "Bucky…" You sobbed, looking straight into his eyes.
 "Hello, doll" He smiled reassuringly at you, but you saw how he pressed his teeth together to ease the pain. He didn’t want to scare you.
"Bucky, God, wh-what happened? You need to go to the hospital wing. You’re losing a lot of blood!" You gently took his metal hand, but before you could lead him away, he removed it and moved away a little.
"It's all right, doll.  Nothing that I can't handle on my own. Trust me, I’ve experienced worse."
"Buck, Y/N is right." You notice Steve for the first time because all your attention has been focused on Bucky since he appeared. "That punk cut you pretty deep; it needs to be stitched up."
"You know, I never go to the hospital wing." He purses his lips awkwardly, looking down.
Of course. Of course you knew it. Everyone in the tower knew that the Winter Soldier didn't like being touched or visiting doctors, and he had never asked for any kind of help. He always limited himself to a short handshake or a pat on the back from his best friend.
But you also knew that Bucky couldn't take off his clothes in front of anyone. Too many scars from bullets, knives, and other things that HYDRA used to torture him He confessed this to you one evening when you were sitting in the dark in the common room after his nightmare.
In those six months, you got close enough to him that he trusted you to sit with him in the stillness of the night and share his fears. But he still avoided touching and, of course, did not want to show his body to anyone. Even you. Especially to you.
You were one of the few good things in his life. Someone who genuinely wanted to spend time with him, who wasn’t afraid of him, and who was always kind and supportive. Bucky didn't want to lose you. And he knew that if you ever saw him with those ugly marks all over his body, you would run away without looking back. Because who would like it?
The hand that took hundreds of lives. The hand that was forever connected to his body left a big reminder that he was, in fact, just an experiment that went too well. He often looked at his shoulder in the mirror with anger and despair, wanting to get rid of this mixture of scars and torn skin. Obviously, when HYDRA put that prosthetic on him, they didn't care much about looks or pain, so they just hooked it on the way they did.
"Bucky, please listen to me." You sobbed, moving closer to him again. "I know you're afraid to go there, but please, you have to do it, otherwise, you'll lose too much blood or just get an infection." You hugged yourself with your hands as your body began to tremble with concern for the person in front of you. "It can leave a big scar." You whispered and saw that Bucky’s jaw clenched again. You didn’t want him to think that there was something wrong with having scars, but you knew that it was emotionally too hard for him to deal with them.
"I'm sorry, doll, but I can't," he pursed his lips, shaking his head, "you know I can't do it."
"Bucky…" you whispered as more tears started flooding your face. You were so focused on Bucky that you didn't even pay attention to your friends, who stood aside and pretended not to eavesdrop on your conversation.
"Don't cry because of me, doll, please, you don't have to cry." Bucky's voice lowered to a whisper as he worked up the courage to use his thumb to wipe a tear from your right cheek with a metal finger.
You took advantage of the opportunity, grabbing his metal wrist and pressing his hand closer against your cheek.
 "Please, Bucky. Then let's go to your room. I can help you if you don't want to undress there.
"I don't think it's a good idea either, doll.  You don't need to see it."
"James," you focused on his eyes, rubbing small circles with your thumb into his wrist, "it'll be alright, I promise. I'm not afraid of you. I won’t leave. I'll take care of you. Please do it for me."
You were hurt by his gaze. You've seen a thousand thoughts go through that head. Doubt, fear, uncertainty, and pain. He couldn't lose you. Couldn't lose what you had. Even if he wanted so much more, he was content just being around you. He couldn't lose you to a damn ugly piece of metal attached to him.
But you looked at him like your life depended on it. Tears were still running down your cheeks. You were hurt because of him. But you refused to give up and let his self-doubt win this fight. You continued to gently massage his metal wrist as you placed a light kiss on it. And he could no longer resist you.
"Fine."
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"It's better if we do this in the bathroom," you said as you closed the door to Bucky's room behind you. You quickly walked past him, going into the bathroom and pulling out the first aid kit you knew was in the bottom drawer. You felt comfortable being a little bit bossy here, and Bucky didn’t mind it.
He quietly followed you, watching you with an unsure face. His blood was still soaking through his arm, but that didn't bother him as much as the fact that he'd have to undress in front of you and that at some point you would touch him.
Once all the necessary things were ready, you turned to face Bucky, already preparing to help him out. But as soon as your hands went up to help him unbuckle his suit, he staggered back, and you froze with your hands in the air. For a few seconds, you silently looked into each other's eyes, then you moved, trying to understand his reaction, and what you saw made your heart ache.
His brows were slightly furrowed, and the corners of his lips were turned down. His eyes always told you everything that he tried to hide, and right now they told you how scared and insecure Bucky actually was.
"I don't think I can do it." Bucky whispered softly, casting his eyes down in shame.
"Hey James, look at me," you said, taking his face in your hands. "I'm your friend, you know? I won't hurt you. I won’t judge you. I won't do anything against your will. But I need to help you because I can see how much pain you're in," you sighed, running your fingers over his cheekbones. "I know it's hard. And I know you're scared or shy, but I'm here for you. None of this scares me, and I'll be as gentle with you as I can, okay? You can tell me if it becomes too much, and I'll stop. I promise."  You could see the tears forming in his eyes, and you couldn't help feeling the pain that this beautiful man in front of you had been without care and affection for so long.
Bucky nodded slightly, giving you permission to continue.
"I’ll clean up your wound on the ribs, and then we can take care of your face." You carefully removed your hands from his, now placing them on the clasps of his suit. You opened them one by one, and when you finally got to the last one, you helped Bucky carefully remove that piece of clothing. Next on the way was a stretchy long-sleeve shirt, and by glancing at the wound, you could see that all the tissue around it was completely covered in blood.
"So, now I'm going to carefully lift up the shirt so you can take it off and not bother your wound too much, okay?" you asked, running your eyes over Bucky's face to understand his emotions. He took a deep breath, as if preparing for the worst, but nodded anyway.
You started to slowly lift up his shirt, helping Bucky pull his hands out one by one, and then tossed that no longer needed rag into the bathtub.
"Oh god," you muttered softly, looking at the wound that seemed to be even bigger now.
Bucky thought that you said it about his appearance in general, so he lifted his head up to the ceiling to stop angry tears from falling.
Come on, Buck, we need to sew this up so it doesn't leave a scar. Do you think you can sit on the counter next to the sink?" You looked at Bucky, but you couldn't meet his eyes. You knew that he was at the edge, his body trembled a little bit, but he still listened to you and silently jumped up on the free space near the sink.
"Bucky," you said quietly, trying to be as gentle as you could. "I see you right now, and I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?" You put your hand back on his face, making him meet your eyes. Before you could think, you placed your right hand on his chest, causing his eyes to instantly widen in surprise. His skin was very warm and silky, even though there were a lot of scars from different conditions. You gently moved your hand, showing Bucky that you’re not afraid, that you’re not a threat, and that he can trust you. "You're doing well, it’s okay," you said as you started rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder.
You backed off a little, finally picking up all the necessary things, and began to sanitize and then stitch up the wound. Every time you needed to put your hand on your skin, you felt Bucky instantly tense under your touch, but you tried to send him quiet words of encouragement and praise. Bucky was very quiet, not making a sound even when the needle pierced his skin. His face wasn’t in bad condition, and Super Soldier serum almost healed them, so you decided to only sanitize and clean his skin.
"Well, you did a great job, James. I'm proud of you." About twenty minutes later, you finally tied the bandage and began to put everything back in the drawer, but then felt a touch on your arm.
You looked back at Bucky, only to meet tear-filled eyes.
"No one has ever taken care of me in a long time, Y/N." You stepped closer to Bucky again, unconsciously placing your hands on his shoulders. "I feel ashamed of my body. Of that arm. I didn't want you to see those ugly scars. God, this is so pathetic—"
"Don't say that," you interrupted him. "That's not pathetic. I understand how you feel. That you have so many negative thoughts about yourself. But Bucky… God, I don't know how to properly say it." You paused for a moment, considering the words. "You're one of the most amazing people I know. And even if many people in the tower are scared or intimidated by you, for me, you are the sweetest, most caring, and most generous person. You remember every little thing I say, make me coffee and food when I'm too busy, pretend to like those shitty movies that I make you watch with me. I'm so sorry that so many bad things happened to such a good person that you feel unworthy of good things."
Suddenly, strong arms surrounded you, and you realized that Bucky was hugging you with arms wrapping around your waist. He nuzzled up to your neck, and you could feel light sobs. Gently, you entangled your fingers in his hair, massaging the scalp with calming movements.
"I don't deserve you, doll." Bucky pulled back a little, still keeping his hands on your waist. "I wish I could be normal for you. Be who I was back in the 40s. I would’ve asked you out and given you everything that you deserved. But that person is not here any more, and I'm not worthy of you."
He wanted to ask you out on a date?  Your heart stopped as soon as the words left his mouth, and you stared at Bucky in surprise. "Bucky—"
"I know…fuck—I shouldn't have said that. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm sorry, doll. I didn't mean to mess anything up between us, I promise. I know you don't feel the same— it's okay, really. Just forget about—"
You didn't let Bucky finish by leaning forward and brushing your lips against his. His flesh automatically tangled in the hair at the back of your neck as the metal one tightened his grip on your waist. For the first few seconds, Bucky was in shock, not kissing you back, but just as you wanted to pull away, his lips began to move, taking over you immediately.
It was the best kiss you ever had. He was gentle yet so passionate. There were a lot of unsaid feelings that Bucky kept to himself for too long. All thoughts seemed to have left your head as the feeling of him filled your whole body.
When there was not enough air, you moved away from each other, touching your foreheads with your eyes closed.
"Fuck" was the first thing he said.
"Yeah," you laughed, finally meeting Bucky's eyes. He looked at you with such adoration that you felt butterflies in your stomach. You just noticed how much skin-to-skin contact you had. "Are you okay with that? Doesn't that make you uncomfortable?" You tilted your head as your hands squeezed his shoulders.
"That's... that's weird. I'm not used to that kind of contact," Bucky said, studying your face. "But I trust you, doll. You are the only person I trust completely." You felt him begin to gently run his hand along your back. "I'd like to ask you out on a date. I mean, if you want to. If not, I totally understand—"
You interrupted him again, leaving a quick kiss on his lips. "I'd like to go on a date with you, James. You know, you’re so cute when you’re shy?"
You've never seen his face so lit up with happiness, with a little bit of pink on his cheeks. Butterflies began to beat in your stomach again, and you realized that it was you who made him feel that way.
"Do you want to go to bed, put on some shitty comedy, and grab some food? I still have to watch over your injury."
"Sounds like a perfect plan, doll." Bucky kissed you on the forehead, interlacing his fingers with you, and led you to his room.
Even if it still required a lot of work, cuddling with Bucky, you knew it was the best place you could be.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 7 months
Text
Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having a Boyfriend
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Warnings: Yandere Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Age Gap, Suggestive Themes, Stalking, Monitoring, Implied Yandere MILF, Implicit Threats, Implied Blackmail, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
♡ There is no measure of fury capable of being held or produced by Hell and Earth that can rival that which fires through Dominic’s veins.
♡ At first, he didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. That his (Y/N) would sever his heart from his chest and run it into the ground.
♡ He thinks – knows – that you’re being held against your will. That’s the only reasonable explanation for this…lapse in judgement, as he sees it.
♡ However, when he watches you from his window leaping into your male friend’s arms, being swung in a display of greatest enthusiasm, Dominic knows he’s being delusional. A rare instance of self-awareness.
♡ Initially, he considers this a curse; the fact that your heart lay in the hands of another. But, the longer he stewed over this development, considered any and every point that would grant him vantage, he began to see it as liberation. A cover beneath which he could operate until he struck from the bushes, his viperous intent strengthening.
♡ He is still amidst the throws of fury, but his wrath is not directed towards you. Rather, that juvenile sack of meat and electricity you donated your time to.
♡ Dominic knows that your ‘boyfriend’ will never love you like he does; that you won’t understand how boys are interested in one thing only. Dominic should know; he’d been a young man once. His psychology was his greatest burden and insight.
♡ He starts taking note of your new, adjusted schedule; the days you reserve for your dates – a long-dead excursion in Dominic’s eyes, not having felt any excitement on a ‘date’ aside from his chance encounters with you.
♡ He follows you, sees which restaurants, cinemas, arcades, shopping centres you enter. And, when the moment is right, when he sees the two of you at the pinnacle of happiness, he acts.
♡ In whatever way he can, he breaks up your dates, saying how it’s “Crazy that you’re here, (Y/N) – what a coincidence,”
♡ When you introduce him to your boyfriend, he flashes a smile only he can see is disingenuous. Grabbing your boyfriend’s hand and shaking it with enough force to give the impression that your boyfriend is weak – boneless – compared to Dominic, the former of the two taken off-balance.
♡ “Better watch your step there, Kid,” he says. There’s grit in the road of his voice, but you’re  piloting an aircraft. Your boyfriend is on a bicycle.
♡ “You’re no use to (Y/N) broken,” he jokes. Something flashes behind his eyes. “Or dead.”
♡ He insists that he drop the two of you home. He knows neither of you drove here.
♡ You can’t say no to your favourite neighbour, who lets you sit in the front seat while he makes your tag-along sit in the back like an animal. An outcast.
♡ Anything to make him look weak. Undesirable. The runt of the proverbial litter.
♡ Dominic drops you home. Tells you he’ll be back soon. And, without asking for directions, begins his embarkation to your boyfriend’s home.
♡ Neither say a word to each other. Seemingly aware of their position in each other’s world.
♡ Pulling up outside your third wheel’s house, Dominic leaves him with only a parting phrase.
♡ “Imagine what else I know about you. What little secrets you’ve been keeping.” He serves a frozen stare in the rearview mirror. “If you leave (Y/N) alone, you’ll never have to find out.”
♡ You never saw your boyfriend again after that. Never heard a peep from him over text, never received a call, never even saw him walk down the street.
♡ Of course, you were confused. But more so, you felt uprooted. Forcibly extracted from the life of someone you cared deeply about. Someone who, evidently, didn’t care as much about you.
♡ Eventually, after monitoring you for those first three weeks, those three, long weeks where every inch was laden with shattered glass and stretched on into infinity, Dominic came to you.
♡ Offered you comfort.
♡ He only wished he could have come sooner, but he knew you’d just react with anger. An emotion he couldn’t risk you feeling towards him, even for a second.
♡ And, just as he’d rehearsed a million times, just as he’d lay in bed, sat in his office losing himself to the phantom of your fleeting warmth he’d patchworked together into a blanket from your previous encounters, he came to your door. Knocked. Entered your home. Opened his arms to you.
♡ And the collective euphoria from his every vivid daydream couldn’t compare to the electric joy which made his heart stop. Resuscitated him.
♡ Your head was to his chest before he could encase you in his embrace. He lay his arms upon you, the snake to your Eve, and held you.
♡ “It’s okay, Darling,” he said, his voice low, as if his wife could hear from across the street. Or from the camera she’d implanted into that new vase she’d bought you last week.
♡ You twitched in his arms with every sob. Dominic could feel your tears soaking through his shirt. His now-favourite shirt. One which he’d never wash again.
♡ In his languid daydreams, he’d imagined you thanking him thoroughly for his kindness, his empathy, professing how you’d been so blind to his love before submitting to him entirely.
♡ But, for now, this victory was enough. To have you as close as you’d ever been, your body curled into his chest as he ran a hand through your hair, your warmth leaking into him.
♡ His warmth that he wanted to see leaking out of you.
♡ His lips to your hair, he resisted the tempestuous temptation to take you now. At your most vulnerable, most suggestible. Your most submissive.
♡ To show you that he can please you in ways no mere boy can.
♡ Instead, he took to trying not to inhale your scent, replace one vice with another, to not replenish his memory of you anew.
♡ “I’m here. I’m here.”
♡ His voice is soft, feather-light. It belies all he has done to get to where he is now.
♡ And all he will do to get to where he needs to be.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost
AO3 Wattpad
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sv5hive · 1 month
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'cause when you know, you know | cl16
pairing(s): charles leclerc x fem!reader
content warning(s): mentions of drinking
word count: 708
note: i haven't posted anything in so long i hope you didn't forget me 🫣🫣
masterlist!
"this is who i was talking about! charles leclerc, you know, the racing driver i mentioned?"
reluctantly, he looked up from the drink in his hands to introduce himself to you. in all honesty, the first half of the season had been tougher on him than usual and he just wanted to be left alone.
that plan was derailed the moment his eyes landed on you.
as he took you in he failed to notice your outstretched hand, waiting for his.
idiot.
it wasn't his fault you looked like an angel in that white dress which seemed to hug your body perfectly, your skin glowing in the warm sunset and eyes twinkling much like the fairy lights illuminating the rooftop. it's almost as if a switch was flicked in him and all the fatigue left his body at the sight of you.
he was definitely in trouble.
"nice to meet you. i hope he hasn't told you too many stories about me." was all he was able to get out while still in a daze.
"nice to meet you too. don't worry, he's only told me the good ones!"
you even had the voice of an angel.
the conversation flowed easily with the steady stream of drinks from the bar. at some point near the beginning of your conversation, your mutual friend had abandoned you, leaving the both of you to lean against the wall in a secluded corner. neither of you minded though, as you spent hours learning almost everything about each other from your careers and families to your favourite dishes and childhood pets. somehow, you had managed to ignore everyone else at the party and stay by each others side in that corner the entire time. you looked around you only to find out you two were the last ones left up on the quiet roof. not that it mattered; you could've spent lifetimes talking to charles, shoulders pushed together, hands almost touching but jumping apart whenever they got too close, just talking about whatever came to mind.
the sun had long since dipped below the horizon and the moon was now glimmering in the waves. charles took the opportunity to admire you in his slightly drunken state before he lost the little confidence he had suddenly gained.
a cool breeze had come with nightfall and danced through your hair as you gazed at the sea through lidded eyes. the moon reflected on your face like a spotlight, magnifying your beauty to him. it felt like the universe was giving him a sign, screaming at him to not let you slip away. even if he wanted to ignore the universe, he couldn't. not when he had already felt himself falling the second he saw you and lost all common sense. a permanent, dopey smile rested on your mouth while you nursed the last remainders of your drink. whether you were smiling because of him or the several drinks you had he didn't know, but he certainly hoped it was the former (it was).
he had just met you a few hours ago but in that instant he knew this would be the story he would tell your all your friends and families over and over again until they could repeat it from memory. he could see it all so clearly.
they would ask how he knew you were the one and he would recount this exact moment, where you weren't even really paying him any attention and instead opting to stare out into the endless sea. they wouldn't understand but when they did and they wondered if they've found the one, he would be there to tell them that if you really have to ask yourself, then they aren't the one. because when you know, you know.
"what are you thinking about?" you had realised the silence had stretched on for much longer than what felt normal.
"hmm?"
despite charles drinking several glasses of liquid courage, he still couldn't form a proper sentence around you.
"i said, what are you thinking about? you look very, concentrated."
"nothing, don't worry."
"whatever you say."
he studied your features once more before shaking his head and smiling to himself.
"come on, it's late. let me walk you back."
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wrongplacerighttime · 1 month
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ex-boyfriend!harry x you
just a lil somethin somethin. wrote this super quick and didn’t proof read it so !!!! basically just smut with a lil bit of a plot, didn’t go into too much detail w the plot. just was in a….mood if you know what i mean HAHAHA.
wc: 2.8k
tw: ex-boyfriend!harry, smut 18+, squirting if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v. use protection kids!!!
bad idea, right?
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The bass through the speaker in the bar turns to muffled bumps as you look down at your phone and see a text from your former boyfriend, blood draining from your face, from your brain and you can't form a coherent thought. Just his name that you never deleted from your contact list. It had been six months since the tumultuous end that you never wanted to think about. You stared at it for so long that the letters of his name blurred together. 
Harry. 
Yes with just a period, because you had removed the emoji you reserved just for him, a giraffe from some inside joke the two of you shared. You had wondered then if he kept the teddy bear by yours or if he removed it like you had, erasing that part of your relationship from his memory. 
You remind yourself not to think of it that way. It was over. Six months ago, when he came home and said he just didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore with no explanation. He packed and left the same night. You didn’t stop him…how could you have, when he was so hellbent on leaving? You just wanted him to be happy, if he decided it wasn’t with you, you had to learn to be okay with that.
Your finger hovers over the message, wanting nothing more than to open it and see if he finally decided to give you the clarification you were desperate for. You glance around briefly, looking to see if any one of your friends was near. If they saw this they would freak. They’d yell and scream at you to delete it without opening it. 
You knew you couldn’t. 
The coast was clear and you inhale deeply, holding it in until the message was open. 
From: Harry.
“Hey.”
Just one simple word. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you type back.
To: Harry.
“Hi.”
Three gray dots show up on the screen almost instantly, like he was watching the message thread and waiting for you to respond while you were having a crisis on the other end. You drum your fingers against the back of your phone, nervously shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you watch them disappear and reappear, as if he was typing and rethinking whatever he was saying. Then it finally shows up. 
From: Harry.
“Busy?”
Yet another message with one single word. Narrowing your eyes, you quickly type back that you were at the bar with your friends. The typing bubble comes up again, but he doesn’t seem to hesitate on sending this time because the only thing that comes up is an address. Assuming it’s his new place, you look around for your friends but don’t see them in your line of sight. 
You argue back and forth with the angel and devil perched on your shoulders. You know this means he wants you to come over. But it’s a bad idea, right? On the other hand you miss him, more than you ever missed anyone, and not getting to tell him how much you loved him when he left made it impossible to forget him. 
Just one time wouldn’t hurt, right?
Your phone buzzes in your hand, his name lighting up your phone in a different way this time. You press the green button without hesitation, putting a hand over your other ear to hear him better. But the other end of the line is silent, save for his breathing. Neither of you wanted to be the first to speak. Then he clears his throat.
“Come over.” He’s almost begging, and you sense some undertone in his plea. “Please. Just miss you.” He admits and the alcohol clouding your mind makes it sound like honey dripping from his tongue and you don’t question it. 
“Miss you too.” You slur, twisting a strand of hair through your fingers and looking towards the floor. “I’ll be there in 20.” You say without thinking about it and hang up quickly. 
You don’t waste time, leaving the bar and typing his address into your phone to get directions. On the way over, you think about turning around and going home, because this is crazy. You swore you were done with him, you didn’t beg him to stay, didn’t beg him to come back…and yet you’re unsure why it was so easy for you to come to his beck and call at your expense. 
You decide that it would be a problem for you to figure out when you’re sober.
You pull up in front of his place in a quaint little neighborhood, one you never imagined he would be living in. Sitting in your car for a moment, mustering up the courage to go knock was proving to be difficult but you take a deep breath and get out anyway. Standing in front of his door, you only get one knock in before he’s swinging the door open, not wasting any time like he was waiting there for you the entire time.
He’s there, standing in front of you, dressed in nothing but those goddamn gray sweats that seem to leave nothing to imagination and your brain sends itself into overdrive. It was like you were seeing him for the first time, and he was you. Looking at each other wordlessly, it seems to say everything the two of you need. You could see it in his eyes—longing, lust and a hint of repentance swirling in his gaze, but you know you’re not here for that. 
He surges forward, and you meet him in the middle. When your lips meet, you forget he isn’t yours anymore. Your heart melts along with your body pressing into him as your tongues dance together and heat swirls below your navel. It’s anything but gentle, teeth clashing together and tugging on his hair at the nape of his neck. His fingers tangle in strands of your hair, tightening his grip at the root and you whimper into his mouth. He backs into the foyer, bringing you with him without detaching his lips from yours. He lowers himself, tapping the sides of your thighs gently and wrapping his hands ‘round the backs of them and you know what he wants you to do. You jump slightly and he lifts you as you wrap your legs around his hips and he shuts the door, backing you into it and you arch your back, pushing your chest against his. You finally pull away from the kiss, needing to catch your breath. He doesn’t say anything, attaching his lips to your pulse point and lightly nipping at the skin there and you let a whine escape, leaning your head back to give him more access.
“Har.” Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth gritting at the marks he’s leaving on your skin, pain morphing into pleasure that clouds your senses. 
“Missed you so much, dovey. Can’t believe I let you fucking go.” He mutters against your collarbone between kisses. 
“Please.” You breathe out, and he brings his gaze to meet yours now. Using the door for leverage, he brings one hand up, drawing over your lips with his thumb and you part them for him. Placing the pad of his thumb against your tongue, you wrap your lips around his digit and suck lightly, hollowing your cheeks and his eyes flutter as he leans his forehead against yours.
“Fuck, angel. Missed this pretty mouth too.” He pants and pulls his thumb from your mouth, rubbing your own salivation over your lips. 
“Why am I here if you’re not going to fuck me?” You manage to ask, wanting to cut to the chase and still a little breathless. He grins.
“Who said I wasn’t? Just wanna take you in first. Didn’t think you’d show up.” 
“Well, I did. Please fuck me. Need it so much, Harry.” You beg and his grin grows. Carrying you, he walks you through the unfamiliar layout of his house until you reach the bedroom and he’s laying you down gently, climbing over you and kissing over exposed skin. His fingers dance under the hem of your shirt, sliding under and he palms over your tits and squeezing lightly. Your hands find his face in the dark and pull his lips to yours again.
The kiss is only brief, he stands and pushes his sweats off his body, kicking the material from his legs and he works on undressing you. He pulls your shirt over your head and immediately his fingers flick the button of your jeans open, pulling them and your panties off in one go. When he climbs back over you, you trail your hands from his chest to his navel, wrapping one hand around his cock and tugging gently. Thumbing over the tip, collecting the evidence of his own arousal. He swears under his breath, chest heaving at your gentleness and you don’t really want to waste any more time. You line him up with your entrance, forgoing any foreplay for the sake of just needing him to fill you like you’ve been craving. He seems to understand the desire you feel, slowly pushing into you and dropping his head to your chest. 
“Fucking missed this.” He says through gritted teeth, following his words with a garbled groan as he slides into you. You can only muster a whimper in response, the feel of him stretching you open leaving your brain fuzzy and unable to form a coherent thought and all you know is him…his touch…his cock. He stills when he reaches the hilt, warming himself inside you and he brings his head up to look at you underneath him. He can’t help but take in your flushed cheeks and your eyes squeezed shut, and he just loves how pretty you look like this. Like an angel. He pulls out to the tip and without warning drives into you over and over, hips meeting yours and his mouth pulls up at the corner at the noises you can’t hold in.
“Heard you fucking went out with Nathan.” He seethes and your eyes fly open at his claim. He knows you weren’t expecting him to bring it up with his dick inside you, but you know where he’s going. “Did he fuck you like this? Did he fill you like I can, pretty girl?” You can’t seem to find it in you to answer, lost in how he makes you feel. And you did sleep with Nathan, but you weren’t exactly sure how Harry knew that. 
“Answer me, baby.” He purrs against the skin under your ear, lips brushing against you as he whispers in your ear and you shake your head.
“N-no. Nobody—fuck—nobody does it like you.” It was the truth. Harry just knew how to satisfy you in a way no other man could. He knew you like the back of his hand, knew the spots that would make you scream his name…knew how to work you up just right until you were squirming just from his touch. 
“That’s right. Nobody fucking does it like me, dovey.” He’s relentless with his pace, looking for one outcome and one outcome only. He hits a spot deep inside your pussy over and over until you feel that all too familiar pressure building in your core. Your fingernails scrape over his back, clawing and holding him closer to you. 
“Har, m’gonna—” You can’t get the full sentence from your throat, your moan muffled as you bite onto his shoulder.
“I know it, angel. Fucking give it to me. Wanna feel you soaking me.” 
So you do, you let go and the pressure releases and you’re crying out and he’s got a smirk plastered on his face knowing no one but him can make you feel this way. You’re holding your breath and he’s tapping your face lightly to bring you back down to earth. 
“Breathe, dove.” He encourages and you exhale, chest deflating and your body goes limp from exhaustion. He fucks into you slower now, allowing you to recover and you give him a tired smile. His movements halt and he lifts your hips from the mattress, wrapping his arms around you and splaying his hands across your back while he kisses you again and again, pecking lightly until you’re giggling. 
Without pulling out of you, he pulls you to his chest and rolls until you’re on top of him, the shift in position pushing his cock in a little bit further. Your limbs are jelly and you steady yourself by flattening your palms on his chest. You roll your hips lazily, clit rubbing over his skin and making yourself shudder. You clench around him as his head drops back against the headboard, eyes rolling back from pleasure. His hands find your hips and squeeze, dimpling the supple skin. His fingers digging into your flesh burns but he knows this is how you like it, he knows that you like it best when it hurts just a little bit. Love looking in the mirror and seeing the evidence of his touches all over you.
He guides you the way he wants, rolling your hips over his cock before helping you bounce, ass meeting the top of his thighs so deliciously. It’s slow at first, then you find your own rhythm and fuck his cock into you and he’s a mess underneath you now. Praising you and roaming his hands from your ribs down to the swell of your ass. 
“Doing so fucking good, angel—taking me so well. Know you were made just for me.” His teeth clench together and his jaw ticks. “Can I cum in your pretty pussy, baby?” 
“God yes, Harry. Please.” You beg him and he nods, chuckling and throwing his head back once more. His hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him forcefully and you whine. 
“You’re a fucking dream, dove. So good to me even when I don’t deserve it.” He holds you there and he takes over, bucking his hips so he’s fucking you again and holds you just where he wants you. It doesn’t take much more before you feel him twitching inside you and feel the warmth of his cum spilling into you and it sends you over again, coil snapping as you pulse around him. You kiss over his neck as he rides you both through the high.
You stay there for a moment wrapped up in eachother, skin sticky with sweat and chests heaving together with pants and short breaths. Your head rests on his collarbone and you draw circles over the swallow on his chest and his fingers find a path on your spine, running down before coming back up. It was fast and quick and everything you needed. He turns his head and nudges you with his nose, pressing his lips to your skin and breathing in.
“I’m sorry.” You hear him whisper against your temple. Your eyes look up at him and feel your heart melting at the sight of him, sweaty and euphoric with his curls sticking to his forehead. 
“We don’t have to talk about it right now.” You mutter. “Just let me pretend the past six months didn’t happen for a little while longer.” He nods, pecking your temple once more, then twice. Exhaustion takes over your mind and you’re almost asleep on his chest when the shrill ring of your phone brings you to a panic.
You jump off of him, searching on the floor for your phone and when you find it you see it's a friend calling you. You swear under your breath, heart pounding in your chest when you realize you forgot to tell them you were leaving. You press the button and bring it to your ear as Harry flicks on his bedside lamp and illuminates the room with a soft glow. 
“Hello?” You say, calming yourself and trying not to sound too casual. 
“Where are you?” She asks curtly, and you curse yourself again for not mentioning you were leaving sooner.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well and left. I tried to find you but I couldn’t. Then I forgot to text. I’m sorry.” You lie and she’s silent on the other end for a beat.
“So you’re home?” 
“Yeah.” Another lie. They didn’t have to know you were in Harry’s bed. Not yet at least. You’d tell them eventually. Just not right now. You chew on the inside of your lip, and look over at Harry who has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes at him and bite back your own grin. 
“Okay. Well…feel better I guess.” She says and hangs up. You let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 
You knew it was a bad idea.
Yet you didn’t seem to care as you crawled between his sheets and went to sleep.
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leviathxn · 1 month
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Hi! I have a request! If you would like to do it...😊
Uhm, so what if y/n and Miguel are married for years and have kids but the Spider society doesn't know. And the shock on the Spider crew faces when they find out about Miguel's sweet side.
YESS I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THESE
(N/N) is nickname or whatever spider name you want to go by
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“Who are you?”
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By no means were you a strong spider. In your universe, you were the first test subject. You got minor powers of a spider. They weren’t very prevalent so the lab tried another experiment, and that person became the true Spider-Man of the universe. You guys were close friends you ended up becoming their sidekick. People assumed there was a relationship, but actually your heart belong to someone else. That somebody was Miguel O’ Hara.
You met Miguel when your partner had ran into the portal and you followed shortly after. Love at first sight might be a reach. You were definitely in love, Miguel was too… he just had to open up to it. He did. It took him a long time but he did.
However, just like him, nobody had any idea. They figured it was on sided, nothing special. So it stayed a secret between you and Miguel. In the span of 5 years, you and Miguel had gotten married, moved in together, had a kid and had another on the way. You never did much at Headquarters so you stayed home taking care of the kid while also staying healthy for your 2nd baby. You were sure nobody knew you existed in the new society, anybody that you had originally met never said much. Since nobody knew your relationship to Miguel, you were seen as a once in a while friend to chat with.
However one day you decided to take your 2 year old and plumped up self to see Miguel and meet new spiders. Not only that but Miguel left your home-made empanadas in the fridge. Your child knew he was spider-man, well as much as a two year old could comprehend. As you walked through the portal it felt like you were looking at an entire new place. You hadn’t been in the Headquarters since the renovation, but luckily you remember seeing the layout blueprints on Miguel’s desk. You got stares, and every now and then a spider would come up to you and “catch-up”. They would ask why you were there, you would say “I’m here to see my husband”, and surprisingly they wouldn’t think much of it. You figured most would assume it was your former partner (Miguel was deathly jealous of him). They said hello to your 2 year old and then would leave you on your mission.
Finally making your way to his office, you picked up your child and gently opened the door. He was standing by his computer screens while a small group of spiders seemed to be… harassing him.
“I think our mission went fine! It wasn’t even a big mistake, nobody died. You can just say your hate me and move on, don’t ban me from the cafeteria”. A teen with bleeding armpits(?) shouted at him. Another blonde spider laughed and smacked his arm
“Miguel wouldn’t get rid of you, he’s running out of reliable people”. You could hear Miguel’s grumbling from a mile away. A British man threw up a random gadget before catching it again (definitely not a toy).
“Well maybe if he wasn’t so mean”. Miguel snatched the gadget out of his hand before an old friend of yours caught eye. Peter B. Parker, with MayDay, ran over to you.
“Oh my God it’s (n/n)! With a kid- two kids? Oh my god this is amazing, long time no see!” He gave you a big hug, playing little hand games with your child. You said hello to Mayday and put down your kid. They two of them already started running off (you were worried about Maydays powers but the place is full of spiders, what could go wrong?). In typical Peter fashion, he runs after the kids and plays with them. The rest of the teens stared, none of them knew who you were. Miguel stared at you across the room, his face softening.
As you walked over to him, you packed his cheek and handed him the empanadas. He gently grabbed your waist and smiled, before taking the empanadas and putting them on the table. You hear Peter gasp as he watches the scene from across the office.
“You should be resting cariño”. You smiled and but a hand over your belly.
“It’s fine bubs, it’s a spider baby, they’ll come out just fine”. He kisses your forehead and holds your hand over your belly.
It was eerily quiet in the room, you had almost forgot that the spiders were there. As you turned your head to look at them, it was pure shock from all, even Mayday was looking at you guys (although she didn’t really understand why).
“It’s nice to meet you guys! You must be the crew I hear all about.” Peter almost fell off the ceiling, luckily catching himself and the kids (when did your kid get up there).
The teens immediately ran up to you as if you were an anomaly, “Who are you and how did you do that!”
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OKAY THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO BUILD UP TOO
I love doing like backgrounds and then boom the moment, especially for shorts like this. Let me know if you guys liked it, and thank you for the request!
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impyssadobsessions · 2 months
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DPXDC Prompt: Who is Danny Fenton?
Warning: This one will be dark as it contains character deaths and violence.
Danyal replaced Danny Fenton a long time ago. As in the original died and Danyal needed a place to hide.
He could have killed him or maybe there was an accident. But he's been masquerading as Danny Fenton for a long time.
But imagine Danyal Al Ghul did kill a kid to take his place. Or at least might have put him out of his misery of something tragic that happened.. as if he wasn't stalking homes to try and pretend to be someone's else's child after leaving the league.
Wasn't "his" fault the kid was stupid enough to cross paths and get hurt.
Though guilt does follow him as he pretends and easily slides into the kids life. Reason he "starts" to drift from Jazz, she's the only one that eyeing him too closely and he doesn't like it. Blame it on her being a nag.
Its why he survived the portal incident. He was already contaminated.
All this to avoid having to fight his brother and being kicked around by his grandfather.
Only to have karma bite him in the ass. Not only he failed to come back fully- unlike the pit rage that made you forget yourself- this form seems to make every regret and terrible action dig its claws deeper in every painful way.
Even worse if you play the whole phantom is a ghost combined with Danny.. so phantom is danny fenton.
Now he's lost anything he could have pride in. Thanks to his accident, he's had harder time controlling his body.. especially with his powers. Clumsy. Uneven. He knew he was out of sorts from not practicing but he doubt he be this bad.
His life forever now half of either existence. He couldn't pretend anymore. Once his new parents find out- they would try to kill him.
Back to square fucking one.
And this time. He doubt even his brother or mother would lend a pity hand. Not like he would want it.
AMG just now thought maybe he would go to Gotham after he killed Vlad and was caught by the Fentons.
He warned Vlad and told him he was getting onto his last nerve. Even told him that Jack wasn't his dad and Maddie wasn't his mom, hell he wasn't even Danny Fenton. But if he had to tell him who he was he was going to regret it.
Vlad went even harder losing interest in Danny- only for Danny to make a sword with his powers and show Vlad WHO he was.
He was trying to be like his father- batman. He is the grandson of the demon king- and former member of league of assassins.
Vlad begging when he realizes Danny been holding back and actual death is on the horizon. "I'm Danyal Al Ghul. And I'm tired of you."
Danny did do it to save everyone permanently but after brutally killing Vlad- is when first his friends show up to warn him about his parents just to see what he done.
Danny laughing awkwardly like.. you-you saw that.. didn't you? heh- Then Fentons barge in. Jack is emotional wreck.
Actually getting a few good hits in, before Danny decided to play dead again and let Jack think he destroyed him.
Flying back to gather his stuff to leave permanently. He couldn't take the guilt of looking at Jack's face. Danny Fenton is dead anyways.
Only to be confronted by Jazz later who shakily asks if Danny is her brother.
Danny being honest, "no."
"For how long?" Jazz saying she knows it had to be before the accident.
"…we we're 8."
Jazz asking trying not to sob did he kill him.
"Mercifully." Then explains he was going to die anyways-
"You don't know that-"
"Actually I DO. I know what it takes to KILL someone, what could allow someone to live. That's something I DO know. And if he had managed to live he would be a vegetable." Explaining how the injury to his spinal cord was not recoverable. just imagine its so bittersweet, because Jazz does love her brother still. But Danny has been a lie this whole time.. or at least being Fenton was. Most of the laughs have become real, jokes, the friendship.
But Danny knows he can't fix this.. so he leaves.
Jazz torn whether to beg him to stay or to go.. and just ends up choking up watching him leave.
thus Danny not sure where to go decides its bout time he at least sees his father.
whether he let him see him or not is undecided.
Jack will either be blame for the murder of Vlad, or Phantom will be exposed.
Either way. Danny knew he royally fucked up.. again.
Ooo what if Danny does join the bats but insist he just wants to be a normal teen. Has a fully researched and planned backstory… mostly leaving out things because its "hard" to talk about. How he lived from foster home to foster home pretending to be different children until he just escape.
Until Jazz , Sam , and Tuck come to find him. Having audio where Danny stated he was the son of batman. Danyal Al ghul. So they figured if they find batman. They might find Danny.
Sam and Tucker want answers.. also mixed about Danny.. but dammit they been through so much.. HOW COULD HE keep that from them? They're not going to let him runaway from this. Tucker also adds unless he threatens to kill us.
Jazz had resolved her feelings. Analyzing everything since Danny was 8. When the switch happened. What was him acting and when the real Danyal appeared.
And had decided she didn't care. Danny was her BROTHER. And honestly is the only thing she has left right now. And she wants him back. Wants to help him heal, wants to help him.
Sam and Tuck want their answers then decide what to do from there. They don't WANT everything they knew to be a lie.
And now Batman is aware of more of his son- Damian knowing more of what his twin been up too.
Its a race to get answers out of Danny before he figures it out and disappears for good.
Can see Damian being the best to help Danny through this. Especially since Jon and Dick helped him not feel so bad about the league.
Danny though pointing out- "Difference, the league didn't make me kill a kid, nor a pathetic billionaire."
"You're right. It would have made you kill me."
Danny just breaks.
Thus finally able to admit all his guilt and how terrible he feels about himself. How he TRIED to be like Father but.. he failed so hard. He failed. He failed EVERYTHING. Just a loser. A failure. A waste. Only to be reminded that if he was one- he wouldn't have so many people wanting to know him. He's scared to face his friends' and sister. He knows its gonna hurt. And it does. But even though he isn't forgiven there is hope things can move on from it. Sam and Tucker will have some serious trust issues and take a while to decipher what part is Danny and what isn't. Meanwhile, yes Jazz feels betrayed. She understands and mostly just want to get to know HER brother more.. Danny more. Hope this opens up the wall she wanted to break down this whole time. And as long as Danny shows her who he is, and tries to work on himself. She doesn't care who he was or how he got there. Also he has to show her what he done with her little brother's body and give it a proper burial. Which Danny happily will- giving it a proper burial.. not showing jazz. He's still afraid she'll immediately hate him once she does. Also can see Bruce being so conflicted but Damian, Dick, and Jason all standing up for Danny. Especially Jason once hearing why Danny killed Vlad was to PROTECT his family and town. He gave him fair warning.. So imagine Bruce and Danny having hard time getting along after everything is revealed. But more so just Bruce unable to comprehend the conflicted emotions. Danny tried to emulate him.. but failed. But he tried to do good.. yet he still killed. So its more so awkward than anything. Bruce still wants to give his son the best. Then I can see Danny helping out- though he keeps phantom a secret from the public. He's always invisible or barely seen.
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amandacanwrite · 3 months
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More Headcanons for the Gale Babes: Pining Edition
Tagging At Their Request: @eclecticqueennerd @jeneralmischief @thewizardhole
Tagging Because I Thought You May Want To Know I posted It: @lewdisescariot @ollypopwrites @rissi-chan @foreskinfinder87
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Here are some headcanons about Gale behind the scenes as he pines for you/Tav (Goodnatured, Gender Neutral) Bear with some things that are just regular ole canon for a moment and then I will get into the headcanony stuff near the middle.
Upon Your First Meeting
"I'm Usually better at this." "At Introductions?" "Hah...At magic."
Safe to say that he was well aware of just HOW much trouble he was in very shortly after beginning to travel with you.
The words "Do NOT do this to yourself, you ridiculous, touch-starved man," may or may not have been said to the mirror...or to a mirror double of himself.
But godsdamnit, you just had to continue being...kind and courageous and well spoken and your eyes...and your lips and Focus--FOCUS GALE DEKARIOS
And hells, what a world it would be if he could stop putting his foot so squarely into his mouth.
"Gods, Gale. Really did a number with that thing you said, didn't you? They probably thing you're pompous--which you are--perhaps rightfully so, you are a very gifted wizard..."
He uh...talks to himself a lot. Old habit from the tower, you see. You only catch him doing it a couple of times though, and rarely hear what he said.
"Oh, just thinking out loud, you know!"
Once He's Gotten To Know You A Bit
"Go on, Gale. You're among Friends." "I may just be about to remedy that."
It's hard to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with you. But the realization was nothing short of devastating for him.
As a younger man, he may have been brought to tears reading a tragedy like his. Abandoned by a former lover, forsaken in a plight brought on by wishing to do her a grand gesture, falling for a simpler love...one he may never have because of the orb threatening to level a city in his chest.
Sometimes at night, he watches you asleep in your bedroll, wondering if he had met you as a young man...if he'd perchance seen you on the streets of Waterdeep or sitting at the bar in The Yawning Portal perhaps he'd never wound up in this position in the first place.
Perhaps he would have simply been chosen by Mystra, and not have fallen in love with her.
It feels wrong...even to think it. He wonders if Mystra can sense the betrayal in those thoughts--in the wish that he'd never fallen in love with her.
But it's hard not to feel that way when he has to spend every waking moment next to you.
And when he watches everyone else in camp seemingly falling over themselves to get to you as well.
He makes his peace with the fact that there is simply no way that he can compete with the pale elf who is constantly making eyes at you...calling you darling.
He remembers meeting people like that in school. He remembers burying himself in his studies to distract himself from the fact that he'd never felt particularly charming or even efficacious in matters of the heart.
Of course that all changed when Mystra chose him. Before he'd wooed her, he'd managed to have a few dalliances as a teen, even going into his early adulthood.
But you're the first he's ever wanted to have something with since Mystra had forsaken him.
He still carries the charm he'd cultivated. It's hard not to get at least a little full of yourself when the goddess of magic herself chooses you. Harder still to drop the habit after he'd committed to it, even while sequestered to his tower.
He'd been deep in thought on these matters when you checked in on him one night.
"Nothing to worry about. Just a wizard stewing on matters of the arcane and curious, I assure you."
When he finally has to reveal the truth of his affliction to you and the others in the party, he's devastated all over again. He's ready to once again be banished for his crimes, to be newly punished for his folly, however well intentioned he was in acquiring it.
But...you simply don't... It seems you never do what he expects because you hardly bat an eye. Even when Astarion tells you to kick him to the proverbial curb, you let him stay.
It's that night he conjures the image of Mystra in his hand, turning it this way and that to see if it still hurts to look upon her as it used to.
When you wander over to inquire about her visage, he is relieved to find it doesn't bother him to speak of her, and daunted by the ache in his chest that you seem to inspire in him.
He keeps trying to find a way to tell you how he feels, but he simply can't form the words without choking on them.
Until that night with the teiflings...and well...let's just be honest, the generously flowing alcohol.
He just wants to share a moment with you--a foolish idea to help you experience the weave using him as a conduit. A bit cheeky he realizes--knowing perhaps better than you might the sort of sensual, intimate nature that being connected through the weave can be. But he can't help it, it is the only relief he can find for this torturous pining. To be allowed to be of one mind with you for just a fleeting second is too tempting to refuse.
When You Imagine Sharing A Kiss With Him
"I'm sorry...I wasn't expecting...but it is a pleasant image to be sure. Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."
How can he convince himself that he won't immediately ruin this? Does he even remember how to kiss? God's it's been so long.
He lies in his tent, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead.
"You should have just kissed them, you damned fool. How long have you wanted this? And apparently they want it, too. And you were linked with the weave! What could have been more perfect? Why didn't you just kiss them, you blithering idiot."
When he doesn't kiss you for a while, you worry you may have made him uncomfortable with the thought. Really, he simply can't find the perfect time between all of the bloodshed and bandages.
He gets sloppy in battle, too worried that someone will take you way before he has a chance to make good on that dream you shared with him. Not the best course of action for a man who can literally implode in the event that he dies.
And then he had to go and say that stupid thing about danger and...other forms of stimulation.
"Perhaps," he tells himself one night. "Perhaps, Gale of Waterdeep, you will actually make a gesture more than a silly joke and a stammering admission of liking to kiss. Your actions so far have not hinted that you will, but perhaps there is hope for you yet."
In the end it's a night where you're near out of provisions that gives him the opportunity to close this blasted distance betwixt you.
He's having a melt down of sorts. About the lack of decent food in camp. How is he to feed all of you with nothing but a few half-eaten apples and a fish head?
You suggest a walk, not far from camp. You're sure you can scrounge up some berries, or some tubers--maybe even a squirrel or a rabbit. In truth, you're not sure you'll find anything, but you can sense that Gale needs time away. Needs privacy. Needs space to simply feel things without an audience.
After walking in silence for a while you ask him if he's alright.
"No. No I am categorically not alright. Not at all. I am filthy. I am covered in goblin blood. The orb refuses to be sated. I cannot find a way to properly feed you so that you'll have the strength to fight another day. And on top of it all--rounding out the depths of my misery--you so bravely showed me the intimacy you wanted to share, yet I cannot for the life of me figure out how to adequately stage that moment so that it is worthy of the splendor that you are."
It's hard not to be touched by his admission, but you don't want him to be miserable. So you make it easy for him. You simply stride up to him and plant a kiss on his lips.
"Is that better?" you ask him. "Now you needn't fret about the last thing."
His simply...gawks at you. Stares in utter befuddlement, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, you're certain you've broken the poor wizard. You almost have the urge to wave your hand in front of his face to see if his soul has left his body. Then he smears his hand down his face and groans
"NO," he says. "No it is not better. That is not a proper first kiss worthy of how I feel about you. I can do much better than a first kiss like that."
You remind him that that was technically your first kiss with him. He is welcome to show you how it is properly done.
You expect the slow burn with him--expect him to have to ponder that for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, before he makes good on it.
But he has had enough of waiting. He drops his bag off to the side and unstraps his bow from his back in a quick flurry of movement. He reaches for you, gently grasping the soft curves of your face and pulling you toward him, claiming your mouth with his own.
It is a frantic, desperate thing, this kiss. Simultaneously overwhelming and buoyant. You find yourself lifting up onto your toes and leaning against him as he tilts his head, seeking some opening to taste you, to feel you on his lips.
Your knees buckle, and his hands move from your face to catch you, crushing you against him as if he wishes to match every curve of you to every corresponding curve of his own body.
His lips are soft, though they are posessive. When you finally allow him across the threshold of your lips, he tastes like that fragment of weave you shared with him. He tastes of pure connection.
And then, just like that moment, it is over. You're left panting and weak as he holds you against his chest, his face flush, his brow gently curved with worry.
You blink dreamily up at him. "Oh." you say.
"'Oh?'" he asks incredulously. "Please tell me you have more to say than 'Oh.' Or at least specify the quality of that 'Oh.' Hells, if I'm to get any sleep at all--"
You simply lift your fingers to his lips, pressing the tips to quiet him. "Consider me properly schooled in how it's meant to be done," you say. "You're an excellent teacher."
He heaves a sigh. "Oh," he says. "I know."
I hope you enjoyed this! I'm sorry if it's not as satisfying since it's a lot of like...subtext for canon things. I have more Ideas but this is already quite long. Do let me know if you would still like to see more or if you have anything you'd like to see or expand on with an actual small fic. I have been having so much fun with these.
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thot-of-khonshu · 1 year
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Say You Love Me (Joel Miller x f! reader)
1K Celebration | Masterlist
Part 2 - Coming Soon
Pairing: Joel Miller x f! Reader (pre and post outbreak)
Rating: M (18+, explicit smut)
Word Count: 6.2K
Summary: Red wine. Rage. Regret. Reunions. When pride separates you from the man that got away in 2003, you thought you’d never see him again. But when going to tie loose ends for Bill and Frank, you see him and a young companion.
Content: TLOU spoilers, slight changes to the story, age gap (~10-15 years), multiple sex scenes, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, cowgirl, creampie, oral (f), rough sex, alcohol consumption, grief, violence, mentions of death, the musical stylings of Fleetwood Mac
A/N: Happy TLOU day! This initially started out as a creation for my 1K celebration to "Maroon" by Taylor Swift, but as you can see it completely manifested into its own short story. Thanks to everyone for being patient for my writing. I hope y'all enjoy!
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Every time you have a dream about everything before, you try to document it down in your ratty journal with your pen running on empty. Everything seems to run on empty.
You dream of your former life less and less as the years go by. It’s a hazy memory and you can’t remember how we were able to live on such luxuries and be comfortable and be happy. 
You dream of the man with his large hands and warm smile on your living room floor, warm with wine. 
Red lips. Red cheeks. Red wine. 
The bitter taste of cheap red blends on his tongue. 
Sticky Austin nights where you’d start outside in the thick humidity but end it in ice cold a/c. It never mattered anyway, Joel always ran hot like a furnace so you’d have to settle yourself in between thin sheets. 
You met through Megan who was dating his younger brother Tommy, a Gulf War vet that was more serious about holding his liquor than he ever was fighting in the war. One night when he’d had too much to drink, Joel, the responsible one, picked him up. A sleeping baby girl in the backseat. 
He barged through your front door. “Tommy, what the hell are you doin’ bothering these–” 
He stopped as soon as he looked at you. From that moment it was like the two of you had this instant communication. He didn’t have to say anything, all you needed to do was look into his eyes. 
“HI there.” He smile at you, that warm smile with that dimple on the side of his cheek. “I–uh–hope you’re not the girl my little brother’s been botherin’ “
“That would be my roommate.” You smile back at him. His smile grows even wider and you can’t remember the last time you had such electric eye contact with someone. 
Tommy bursts through the door, coming out of the bathroom with Megan hoisting his large frame.
“Please get him in bed and away from vodka.” She hoists Tommy onto Joel. 
“Tell me a bedtime story.” He slurs. Joel looks at you apologetically as he turns to bring him to the car. You and Megan exchanged a silent look as she could pick up on what was going on and she nudged you to go after him. 
“Hey wait!” You call out, you try not to focus on his broad back muscles. “I think it’s clear Tommy needs some chaperoning whenever he comes over here.”
He furrows his brow in confusion at first. “Y’know, his big brother to come over and make sure he’s doing right?” ‘You smile. 
“Just say when and I’ll tag along.” Joel winks at you. 
He was always a man of his word. 
The next weekend, Megan invited Tommy over and suggested he bring Joel along as well. Tommy came barreling in like a freight train and Joel laid back to greet you at the door. He held up a six pack of beer. 
“I didn’t wanna come over empty handed. It’s all we had in the fridge.” Joel said. 
“Yeah, Joel wanted to come right over after workin’ tonight. Even let Sarah stay at a friends house, ain’t that sweet?”
“Alright, Tommy. I still clearly gotta babysit you.” Joel rolls his eyes. 
“We’ll, thank you for the beer, Joel but we’re more wine drinkers here. Do you like red blend?”
“I’ll drink whatever you give me.”
————————
A few hours later, Megan and Tommy have gone off on their own adventure. You and Joel split the bottle of wine between the two of you and despite him stating he could handle his liquor, his large body was sprawled out across your living room floor with his empty glass tipped over. 
“Miller, I thought you said you could handle your liquor.” You grin at him from the couch. 
“I usually can. I don’t know what was in your roommate’s cheapass screwtop–” 
“Hey–don’t blame the alcohol for why you’re currently on our living room floor right now. And while she can’t defend herself.” 
“You saying I’m a sloppy drunk?” He leans closer towards you and you observe the patches in his beard. 
“I’m saying I don’t wanna hold your hair back above the toilet.” You grin at him. He looks at you, hard. You feel your heart rate rising and the moment is almost too much to handle. You need to ground yourself with something, anything. You turn to your vinyls. 
“You like records?” You ask him, moving towards the shelf. 
“Didn’t know people your age still listened to them.” He called out. You scoffed. 
“I’m not that much younger than you. Besides, this is timeless. CDs might come and go like 8 track players, but these? These are gonna last through everything.” You hold up a record and he nods in approval, Fleetwood Mac’s self titled album. You flip to side two and the sounds of “Say You Love Me” flood the living room. 
You join him on the living room rug and close your eyes, listening to Christine McVie’s voice. 
Have mercy, baby, on a poor girl like me
You know I'm falling, falling, falling at your feet
I'm tingling right from my head to my toes
So help me, help me, help me make the feeling go
“God, her voice is just so ageless. I know everyone always looks at Rumours as their best but this one is just cla–” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand brush your cheek. You feel the warmth of his face coming closer and closer as you finally open your eyes to see Joel ready to kiss you. 
But he forgot his wine glass in his hand as it spilled onto you with the remainder of his alcohol. 
“Shit, shit.” Joel stumbles up and looks around. “I am so sorry, I can clean that up.” 
You get up to him walking around your kitchen, looking for paper towels. When he turns around, you put your hand at his chest and look up at his beautiful brown eyes. 
“Why don’t you help me find a new shirt?” You ask him in a low voice. His jaw is slacked as he slowly nods. 
“Yes ma’am.” He follows behind you, taking your hand as you lead him into your bedroom. 
One thing about Joel Miller? He takes his time. He takes his time giving you soft, syrupy kisses and drawing the anticipation by pulling at your lip. 
He builds you up by meticulously touching every part of your body while peeling off your clothes, grabbing at the swell of your ass, the dips of your hips and pulling at the back of your neck. He wants to make you feel amazing.
Once you’re naked, he lays you on top of your bed and peers up at you as he pulls your knees apart. 
He drags the tip of his tongue over your clit, savoring your taste as he moans in relief. You tremble against him, dragging your hand through his dark curls as he begins to put his full mouth into you, his tongue entering you as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t help but squirm on top of him, rocking onto him as he moans below you. 
“You taste so fucking good.” Joel gets up for air briefly and dives back in. Kissing at your inner thighs, he takes one of his thick fingers and pushes one into you, your body instantly tightening around it. 
“So wet for me too.” Joel moans. He moves in earnest, putting his mouth back onto your clit and the pleasure is all you can concentrate on. He adds another finger, getting up to watch you squirm at his fingers as your wetness fills the room from his methodical thrusts. 
You feel yourself tense, your muscles tightening around him as your pleasure intensifies and your breaths go shallow. When he curves his fingers and moves his mouth back to your clit, you short circuit completely. 
You writhe on top of him as you cum, moaning louder than you’d expected and hoping Tommy and Megan don’t hear anything. Your shallow breaths fill the room and your eyes are shut. Pleasure still pulsates through your body as Joel is now on top of you, kissing at your throat as you feel his heavy, still clothed cock on top of you. 
When you release it, it springs from his boxers, thick and dripping at the top with precum. You rub the tip of his head as he lets out a hiss of air at your throat. You bring the liquid to your mouth and savor the taste. 
“I hope this ain’t too forward,” His hands cup and knead at your breasts. “But I’m desperate to feel you.” 
“Please” You beg. “I have condoms but I’m also on the pill. Whatever you need, just please don’t stop.” 
Joel lines himself up against you, rubbing his thick cock against your soaked walls. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gently enters you. It’s soft at first, him trying to fit in every single inch while also not cumming immediately while he was inside of you. You gripped him, wet and tight. 
During the pause when he’s finally deep inside of you, you both are riddled with heavy breathing. Your kisses are slow but hungry. You start to move below him and that’s what drives him wild. 
He begins to pump faster inside of you, rubbing himself against your swollen clit. You don’t think you’ve ever had something so intimate before. You’d had sex, but this just felt like something out of another dimension. Joel was entirely focused on your pleasure, hungrily pawing at your body as he rocked on top of you. 
When circled his fingers on your clit, you knew you were going to cum a second time. You grabbed at the bedsheets, another climax of pleasure making you arch. 
After you came twice, Joel was needier. He raised your leg so he could get into a deeper position and you had felt so incredibly full. He fucks you at a rapid speed and feeling you convulse around him for another orgasm wasn’t helping and the room filled with the noise of his balls slapping onto your skin. 
You loved that his broad body surrounded you, that all you could feel was him and all you could hear were his grunts into your ear. His hips began to stutter as he filled himself into you, emptying himself as much as he could into your tight walls. 
You don’t realize how badly you were gripping him until you rub his back, his head on your chest and you feel the claw marks. His breathing is labored, still feeling the impact of your sex as you bury your fingers into his curls. 
“This should go without being said,” Joel looked up at you. “But I would really like to take you out sometime.” 
You weren’t going to say no to that. 
—---------------------------------
You wake up, the motion of the car rattling you. 
“Morning, sunshine.” Megan smiles behind the steering wheel. Before everything, Megan was terrified of driving and now you’d catch her dead before she’d stop and pick someone up, choosing to run them over instead because they were likely a hunter. 
And wouldn’t you rather kill than be killed? 
It all happened so fast but so painfully, hauntingly slow at the same time. In one night, civilization as you knew it had ceased to exist. Megan came home, shaking, covered in blood telling you you had to leave tonight. 
You drove until you ran out of gas. You walked until you were able to rob some idiots that tried to give you a ride and take advantage of you. And that’s how you ended up at the Philadelphia quarantine zone. Somewhere far away from Texas and the sticky heat and long carefree nights.
There were a lot of men like that in this world, who thought they could take things from vulnerable women. Little did they realize, the vulnerable women didn’t make it. Not all of them were like that, though. Bill and Frank weren’t. 
You’d met Frank over the radio, talking over some music his partner BIll was playing as some sort of signal. Frank was incredibly kind, warm and worldly in a world with almost nothing left. He’d offered to trade things between you and Megan’s QZ and the Lincoln town he lived in with Bill. 
And Bill? He was…Bill. He wasn’t exactly kind and open to strangers, but he knew the both of you and trusted you after all of these years. Whoever Frank loved, he loved. So when you’d heard the 80’s distress signal coming from the radio, you’d decided to risk the trip and make sure everything was okay. 
When you had gotten to the gate, usually coded, it was wide open and the two of you exchanged looks in surprise. Without having to say a word, you grabbed your handgun out of the glove compartment. Megan pulled up to Bill and Frank’s, seeing their door open. 
The two of you had tried to get out of the car as quietly as possible. Crouching behind the car as you heard the crunch of footsteps. 
“It could be Bill and Frank.” Megan whispered. 
“When is it like Bill to ever keep the gate open?” You asked her. You heard the crunches coming closer. 
The two of you signal to step out at the same time, adrenaline pumping through your veins. After all of this time, it never gets easier doing this. 
Before you could pull the trigger, you hear a HYAH and see a small figure jump out towards you. 
Jesus, it’s a child. Before she could try to stab either of you, Megan pins her down to the ground, knocking the knife out of the way and the kid squirms under her. 
You see another figure jump into frame to defend the kid. A man with grey hair, a broad frame and a handgun. The two of you are in a standoff but something feels off. You know you’ve been to Lincoln so many times before but something about this feels entirely too familiar. 
“Do not hurt the kid.” The man drawls, looking down at her and then back at you. “She didn’t—“
And then his eyes meet yours. Still as piercing as you remember. And you realize that you’re standing in front of Joel Miller for the first time in twenty years. 
“…Joel?” Megan says something first. 
“Hi Megan.” He looks at her briefly to acknowledge her, but he looks back at you. The gun still in his hand, gripped tightly. 
“We’re not looking for any trouble.” Joel says. “We’re here to check on our friends.”
“Bill and Frank.” You finally say to him. “Our friends.” The look of confusion on his face is apparent. 
“You two knew Bill and Frank?” He asks. 
“How about ‘it’s good to see you two alive after all this time’, Joel?” You ask him, exasperated. You were tired of holding this gun, your hands were getting clammy and you had no intentions of shooting him. Even after all this time, you knew he wouldn’t shoot both of you either. 
Megan lets the girl up and she runs to Joel. She puts her gun down and you motion for him to follow suit. He looks at you for a long hard moment, his eyes scanning your body as you feel yourself redden with embarrassment, feeling fully exposed in front of him and looking like apocalyptic shit. He sets his gun down as you follow suit. 
“I think y’all should come inside, then.” Joel said. “Some things you need to see.” 
You follow Joel and the young girl-you find out her name is Ellie- into Bill and Frank’s house. You go to the same place that Bill and Frank would keep supplies, notes or any clothing that Frank had to spare - the second cabinet to the right. That’s where you see their note. 
Frank’s condition had worsened over the past few years. A degenerative disease you weren’t sure exactly what it was, but when he asked for a wheelchair from the Philadelphia QZ you were both more than happy to bring it to them. You knew it was only a matter of time before he went. When Bill decided to go with him, you weren’t surprised. Despite his exterior, everything Bill did was for Frank, the man he loved. 
You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt that kind of devotion to someone until today. 
The four of you sit at the table. An awkward silence between the four of you, the only sound being Ellie rocking her chair. One of the legs must’ve been broken and Bill hadn’t gotten to it ye–
Oh. Right. 
“I didn’t know Bill and Frank knew anyone else besides us.” Megan said. 
“Likewise. I guess that makes sense.” Joel said, his eyes still on you.
You agreed. “Frank, I’m sure, would’ve loved the extra company. More people to host garden parties and socialize for but if Bill had anything to do with it–” 
“He would’ve threatened to kill us.” You say in unison. 
“Trust me, he made sure to make us aware if we tried anything he had his gun right on the table the first time we met.” You said. 
“His reputation precedes himself.” Joel said. 
The two of you are silent for a moment. Megan and Ellie looking between the both of you. 
“Am I missing something?” Ellie asked, pointing at the two of you back and forth. 
“And I think that’s my queue to look around for some food. Maybe we can have some dinner, figure out what the fuck we’re doing and then call it a night before we go our separate ways, huh?” Megan quickly said. 
You sit at the table with Joel and Ellie, completely silent as Joel is now looking away from you and Ellie keeps looking at the both of you. 
“You can cut the tension with a knife, huh?” Ellie whistles. 
“Ellie, go take a shower. They’ve got hot water.” Joel says. She quickly gets up and runs down the hall. 
“You don’t have to tell me twice. But after I take one, you’re going in because man. And if we’re gonna be around company…” 
“Ellie.” He raises his voice into a stern inflection you haven’t heard since…
Where the hell is Sarah? 
—-------------------------------------------------
Later that night, you’ve hunkered down with Megan, Joel and Ellie. The four of you have rabbit along with some vegetables and rice from Frank’s garden. The tension has subsided as you’ve gotten into the wine cabinet. That’s when the memories flow back. The three of you share stories from Texas, your old lives that seem so long ago. Reminiscing on how things used to be as Ellie interjects with a question about the old world every now and then while reading a comic she snagged from Bill’s basement. 
Megan eventually stretches her arms up. “Well, I’ve been drivin’ all day and I’m exhausted. I’m about to hit the hay.” 
“Well I am gonna finish reading this in peace and quiet so I can read about this alien’s guts spilling out without interruptions. Goodnight! You kids have fun!” Ellie grins. 
Megan gives you a look etched in worry before she heads to the stairs. You roll your eyes at her because you can take care of your goddamn self. You have been for ages. 
You hear the footsteps go upstairs as you and Joel sit across from each other at the table. It’s like a lockbox with feelings you hadn’t had in years starts rattling in your chest, a monster of them waiting to come out and erupt.  
You look over at him, his hair slicked back from his shower, grays prominent in his hair and his beard. The swell of his lips was still prominent and had the ability to drive you crazy. 
“Bill and Frank.” You say to him, hoping to silence the voices in your own head.  
“Bill and Frank.” He repeats, his hands fidgeting on the table. 
“So, uh, I guess while we’re here–I’m gonna raid the liquor cabinet.” You head to the liquor cabinet to see if there’s anything strong enough to hold the awkward air between the two of you. You see a dusty bottle in the back of the cabinet, a red blend that looked entirely too familiar to pass up. 
You bring it to the table, setting it down in front of Joel. He looks up at you and shakes his head in disbelief, a small smile etched across his face. 
“After all this time, you still drink the same shitty red blend.” Joel says. 
“Can you handle your liquor any better, Miller?” You slide it towards him, he catches the bottle with one large hand. 
“I guess we’ll have to see.” He grumbles, slicing the wine bottle open with his knife. 
It didn’t take long for you to feel the heaviness of the wine, sloshing in your stomach as you and Joel took turns taking long drinks from the bottle. 
He tells you of Tess, his smuggling partner that had recently gotten infected while smuggling Ellie out of the city. While you admired her bravery and her sacrifice, you can’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. You’d had your partners every now and then, but none of them ever stuck around long enough. None of them ever mattered like he did. 
“She was like family.”  He stated. 
You knew you couldn’t just say sorry. “I’m sorry for your loss” almost seems insulting these days with teh weight of how much it happens. 
“Did–uh–you have any smuggling partners?” Joel asks, sipping on the bottle and looking away as if to play nonchalant. Twenty years and you can still tell when it’s all bullshit. 
“I did. None of them were exactly like family but they were enough to help Megan and I get by. I never trusted them enough to introduce them to Bill and Frank.” You said. 
“Oh.” Was all he could say. 
“I–I couldn’t. I just couldn’t let myself get too far with anyone after–” You can’t even bare to say it. But he looks at you as if you have, like you’ve just cut part of his soul open. 
“What the fuck happened?” You muttered, swigging from the bottle.
“You want the version they’re teaching kids in FEDRA school or the version we remember?” Joel asked. 
“Joel…” You give him a long look. He looks at you, briefly, breaking eye contact to look anywhere else and scowl. He chooses to grab the bottle from you, taking a large gulp. 
“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” He says. 
“Maybe it doesn’t.” You say. “But I still wanna know. I just…we could’ve had this life.” 
His brow arches. 
“You and me. Tommy and Megan. Bill and Frank. We could’ve been a team. It would’ve been something.” 
“Tommy decided to fuck off and join the Fireflies. Pretend like he was makin’ a difference. And then when that fell through last I heard he was in Wyoming. Megan was better off.” He stated. 
“You were…” He silently mutters. 
“We don’t have to talk about any of it. I’ve done some shit I regret but I did it to survive. Because that’s what we have to do in this new world. I get it. But those first few years…I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 
He takes a large drink of wine. “Or Tommy.” 
“Or Sarah.” 
“Well, there’s no damn use in thinkin’, is there?” Joel snaps back. You know you’ve clearly hit a nerve talking about Sarah. With whatever happened to her. Was she with the Fireflies? Was she with her Uncle Tommy? You’d hate to think it could be any worse. That brilliant, beautiful girl in any sort of trouble or not existing in this world. 
By the pain in Joel’s eyes, the exterior he’d tried to mask by furrowed brows and a hardened expression, you knew. Suddenly the air felt thick. 
“I’m sorry…I’m gonna step outside.” You rush to the porch as you feel the tears flood through your eyes. Sarah’s gone. You didn’t know that after all of the pain, after all of the violence, after everything this world has taken from you, that you could still feel this searing pain of loss. 
You suddenly hated yourself for not being there. For not calling. For running away from things when they had gotten too serious, as if some bullshit relationship problems would matter in a week’s time in that moment. You had no idea what was about to happen. 
If you’d known you would’ve lost everything and everyone in your life you had loved, you would’ve tried to hold on to the man you loved and his family for as long as you could. 
But then again…maybe it was better this way that you weren’t there. You didn’t hold him back, you didn’t hold him back either. This world isn’t for the weak. Love makes you fucking weak. Joel makes you so fucking weak, 20 years later. It’s infuriating, intoxicating and confusing. 
You hear the door open and footsteps come through. You wipe your tears away as you see Joel sit next to you on the bench. 
“I’m sorry.” He says, solemnly. “You didn’t know. It was that night of the…” 
“I know it’s so god damn insignificant now…but I’m so sorry I didn’t call.” You choke. Joel remains silent, his lips wavering. 
“You didn’t know.” He repeats himself. 
“So what happens now?” You ask him. 
“We do what we came here to do. Get our supplies, celebrate Bill and Frank and we drink.”  
“We drink.” You nod. 
And drink you did. 
You drank and remembered the good times, the times when he’d come over every Friday night that Sarah had a sleepover and you’d talk and touch each other until the sun came up. You drank and remember how even though Megan and Tommy had fizzled out, he had still come over to be with you. You drank and remembered the bad times, when you couldn’t handle the intimacy, you both couldn’t decide what this was. 
You can’t bear the way he looks at you. You need an escape. You head to Frank’s record collection. 
You dust off the record collection and see the familiar cover of Fleetwood Mac’s self titled album. You look up at Joel and his cheeks look like they sting with glee. He lets out a small giggle. 
“What was it I used to tell you?” You try to remember. 
“Records are timeless.” Joel says as you flip the vinyl to side B. “You were always right.” 
The room floods with the faint sounds of “Say You Love Me”. It had been years since you’d heard this song but you still remembered every word. Joel extended his hand out to you and you took it, fingers stroking his palm. 
You pressed yourself lightly against him, turning and looping over the hardwood floor as the music continued. Somehow, someway, you could still smell his subtle sandalwood scent. 
'Cause when the lovin' starts and the lights go down
And there's not another living soul around
You woo me until the sun comes up
And you say that you love me
The two of you giggled like children as you looped around Bill and Frank’s living room. The light of the moon shone on Joel’s face and the hardened exterior of the older man was gone for a moment, and you were taken back to 2003 where that gorgeous carpenter was leaning against your doorway for the first time. 
Your hand crept up his neck, feeling his peppered curls as he shivered. In response, he pressed his body closer to yours until you were cheek to cheek. 
He turns to face you. His eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion of the feelings that were rising. He never thought he would see you again, and these damn emotions kept flooding through his body. 
“I showed up to your house that morning.” He whispered. “Right after we dropped Sarah off at school. My birthday.” 
“So do you still think it doesn’t matter?” You asked him. 
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“But it would’ve given us one more good day. Before it all went to shit. And if that’s all we had, then I’m okay with that. Better than the alternative.” 
You pressed your lips onto his, slow and calculated at first. You gave him one small peck to test his willingness to kiss you. You looked back at Joel and his eyes were shut tightly. 
“I’m sorry–I shouldn’t have–” You try to break away but he tightens his grip around you. 
“I’m just trying to savor this moment.” Joel whispers. You meet his lips again, hungrier, needier. Both of your hands exploring each other as if to make sure this was real and you weren’t dreaming it. 
“Joel.” You break away as he strokes your cheek. “Let’s go to bed.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He says. 
It’s no shock that after all this time, you and Joel still fit together like a glove. Your body melts into his with a comfort that you haven’t felt in years. You didn’t know your body could ever feel that good again. 
You didn’t think your hair, greasy and damaged when you looked at it in the mirror, could be stroked like that again. As if Joel had gotten a spool of gold and he didn’t want to ruin it, Joel petted you with delicacy as he undressed you. 
Your stomach, somehow softened throughout the years with age even though you hadn’t had proper nourishment in years, being planted with soft kisses as Joel moved south, desperate to taste your pussy again. 
You climb onto his lap and grip him with one hand, still as thick and as long as ever. You take a moment to look at him through the moonlight, after all these years he’s still incredibly handsome but this world took the sparkle in his eye away. 
“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begs. “Let me feel you again. I’m desperate.” 
That word is what makes you sink down onto him, inch by inch until he’s all the way inside. It was probably a bad idea to attempt to do this without any prep work but you didn’t care, you needed him and it filled a part of you that hadn’t been taken care of in years. 
“Fuck. Fuck.” Joel rasps. “You’re still so goddamn tight.” You can feel your inner muscles clenching at his thickness and the desperate groan that he releases makes you weak. 
You start to move, slowly, as his fingers dig into your hips. The pressure between the two of you is unbearable, you feel him and his full length but you’re desperate for more release. Joel’s ragged breaths concern you, though. 
“Are you gonna be okay if I go faster?” You ask him. 
“I ain’t that old, sweetheart.” Joel rasps under you, that damn smile back in action. 
And with that, you lifted yourself up and slammed yourself into him, grinding your clit against his cock at a fast and desperate pace. 
He moves forward, putting a mouthful of your breast into his mouth as his other hand rests on your lower back. You can feel the intense pleasure so blindly that you don’t know how long it’ll be until it boils over. When you contract around him and cum, Joel lets out an animalistic groan. 
“Fuck, that’s it.” He moans. “Milk my cock, baby.” 
You ride out your orgasm and just when you think you have time to recover, Joel begins to thrust upward deep and hard. His hips snapping up and bouncing you on top of him. He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling you down to thrust his tongue into your mouth. 
You suck his tongue and desperately cling to him, unsure how much longer you’ll be able to go without cumming again. 
“I can feel it, sweetheart.” Joel groans. “Cum around my cock one more time, just give me one more. Please.” 
He breaks free from your tight embrace to rub your swollen clit as you grind on top of him again, trying to remain as silent as possible so you don’t wake anyone else in the house. 
You convulse and cum around him again, dizzy with pleasure as he takes one leg for leverage and begins to fuck into you harder than before. At this point, you can’t control the sounds coming out of you as he hits a spot inside of you that feels so good. His hips begin to stutter and Joel fills himself into you. He cums so hard that you feel it leaking out of you while he’s still inside. 
The two of you stayed just like that for a few moments, clung to each other as you heard his heartbeat hammering inside of his chest. You peppered soft kisses onto his body as you got from on top of him. The contrast of being full and then leaving him made you wince. 
Joel got up from the bed and you hesitated for a moment. Did he regret this decision? Was he going to sleep in his own bed? When he came back, he had a warm washcloth and he used it to wipe between your legs. Hot water will never be taken for granted in this world. 
The two of you then snuggled up together, the situation being better left unsaid. You knew that you both had to start preparing for the morning, so instead of talking, you just shut your eyes and tried to enjoy his strong arms around you. 
—-----------------
You heard a faint knock at the door and almost forgot where you were for a moment. When you felt Joel’s arms around you, his lips pressing against your cheek, you woke up with the biggest smile you’d had in a very long time. 
“Good morning, you two.” Ellie shouts throughout the door. “Knock knock. Megan’s making breakfast, wake your asses up, lovebirds!” 
“Don’t–don’t come in here Ellie.” Joel tries to exclaim, sleep in his voice. 
“I’m fucking good, man. I’m gonna help Megan with breakfast.” You hear her footsteps as she leaves the hallway and you turn to him. 
He was still there. And suddenly you were reminded of each and every time he’d stayed over, Megan making everyone breakfast as you’d talk and laugh through the previous night. 
This morning was no different. It felt oddly comfortable, the four of you enjoying each other’s company even though you knew it had to end. You’d spent the rest of the morning gathering supplies but then it was time to grab your backpack out of the bedroom. 
Joel was sitting on the edge of the bed. It reminded you of how things were the previous day, where he couldn’t look you in the eye. He was riddled with discomfort. In this world, you’re so used to not even having to say goodbye. That’s honestly not as painful as having to do it. 
You walk up to him, giving him a long hug. 
“Joel, if it’s true what you told me – if she’s immune – this is huge. It might give the world another chance. It might give us another chance.” You say to him. 
“You still have so much hope for the world. That's why I will always love you.” Joel whispers. You feel your heart crack. You feel the toolbox in your chest start to rattle. 
You know you shouldn’t say it. You know you’d be an idiot to say something so vulnerable and stupid in this world. But if you don’t say it, what else do you have? 
“I love you too, Joel. Take care of yourself, okay? Take care of Ellie. If you ever find yourself at the Philadelphia QZ you know where to find me.” You say to him. 
He presses his lips against you softly. As if to savor every moment, every feeling. Every curve and swell of your lip. He grabs at the back of your neck and you mimic him, grabbing the back of his. As if pushing further into the kiss could bring you back to those hot Austin nights. 
Because you knew this was the last time you’d get a good taste of home. 
You walk him out towards the car, Ellie already next to the passenger seat bouncing up and down because she had never ridden in a car before. You and Megan send them both off, his reflection in the rearview mirror never leaving your sight until the truck becomes a small blur. 
“You gonna be okay?” Megan asks you, with that same look of worry she had given you the night before. 
You’re not sure if you will be, but you have to forge ahead as you always do. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” You state. And the two of you get ready to go, heading into the car back to the QZ. 
“Talk about a blast from the fuckin’ past.” Megan says, starting the car. “It’s funny…I had actually heard about Nick – y'know the one that was in the Fireflies– talking about somewhere in Jackson. Small fuckin’ world.” 
You lean your head up against the car window. Your thoughts immediately go back to last night. 
Small fuckin’ world indeed. 
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