#man it's crazy how much changes in a few years

[starlostjisung]

you could call me babe for the weekend

chapter two: welcome to the show

wc: 5.3k

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“what? are you crazy? do you have temperature? let me check”, chan put his hand on your forehead to check

“no, no, listen to me”, you grabbed his shoulders and made him look you in the eye, “this is genius”

“no, y/n, this is ridiculous”

maybe it was because you had been going crazy all day trying to find a solution for the mess you had caused for yourself, but now that you had chan there and you had come up with this, you honestly saw no flaws in your plan. your best friend would be your fake boyfriend. it was perfect.

“chan, you are the perfect man for this, you have to do it with me”, you told him

he sighed looking at you and let his arms fall to his sides, “y/n, we’re best friends”

“exactly! that’s why this is perfect”, you let go of him and walked around your living room trying to convince him, “we know the other almost better than we know ourselves, we have been best friends for years now, it won’t be weird i’m sure, it would just be like we usually are but a higher level”, you looked at him again

“a higher level?”, he sighed again

“yes”

he rubbed his eyes a bit frustrated with your chaos and the fact that you were bringing him along, “y/n, your parents know me”

“and that’s why they will completely fall for it”, you walked up to him and grabbed his hands, “they already found weird that i had been seeing someone for a while and i hadn’t mentioned anything to them. when they realise it’s you, i will just tell them that we had been keeping it quiet because we wanted to make sure that everything between us was fine and we were completely sure of what we were doing to not jeopardise our friendship, that we had kept it only between us until we both felt ready. they won’t question it”

chan had never felt so indecisive in his life. yes, he wanted to help you, he would do anything for you and you knew that. but also, he was scared of the way that this weekend could change your friendship, the way that you two could fall from the tightrope you were just about to walk on and lose yourselves on the fall… you couldn’t see that now, you were too worried about how to survive this weekend.

but he could, and he was not ready for that to possibly happen. not now, not ever.

“chan, please”, you tried again, “i promise i won’t make you watch scary movies again, and i will help you on laundry days”

“no, y/n, don’t blackmail me”, he pushed you away and walked around the table, trying to put some distance between the two of you

“i will bake the cake that you love so much and i will bring it to the cabin and we can eat it together and not leave the room the entire day just… please… chan, i need you”

he looked at you and you were just there. battling your eyelashes at him, looking at him like your life was on his hands. how could he say no to you.

he could never do that.

he let out what probably was the biggest sigh of his life, “fine, i’ll do it”

“thank you thank you thank you i love you so much you’re the best friend in the entire world i promise to make you the biggest cake you’ve ever seen in your entire life”, you crossed the room and jumped into his arms with an abnormal force, but luckily chan was able to catch you on time

“yeah yeah, it’s whatever”, he put you on the floor again, “you owe me, big time”

“yes, i know”, you looked at him with the biggest smile and the brightest eyes he had ever seen.

you hugged chan again, and he hugged you back.

there were few things in your life that you could be completely sure of, but there was one thing that you knew.

chan would always have your back.

“i’m leaving the company now, do you want me to buy anything on the way?”, chan asked you on the phone

“no it’s fine, i cooked today so there’s no need”, you told him through the speaker as you were finishing dinner for the two of you

“you sure?”, you could hear the door of the car closing

“i’m sure, plus i baked you some cake for tonight too, as an extra thank you for your help”

“yes!”

you smiled at his reaction, even though he couldn’t see you. you could just picture him, cheering in the car because you had made him cake. he was going to be the death of you.

“okay, so i’ll be there in 15 minutes tops” he said

“fine, drive safe, see you”

“see you soon, love”, and with that he hung up the phone

you couldn’t help the blush that adorned your cheeks at chan’s pet name for you. this week you had been working on what you had called “the family trap”, which was basically your plan for this weekend.

you had told him what he should expect from this weekend: you two would arrive on friday and that day you would be with your parents, grandparents and also your uncle, aunt and cousin. on saturday, to celebrate your aunt’s birthday, some of her friends and relatives would go there to spend the day. they would arrive in the morning and leave trough out the day, whenever they wanted. and then on sunday, your family and you two would go back to seoul.

easier said than done. “calm down, it will be okay, i’m gonna be there with you”, he told you every time he saw you getting anxious about it or feeling overwhelmed.

tonight, he was coming to finish preparing small details that had been left out. and also to spend some time with you, something you two did whenever you could.

you had just finished setting up the table when the door rang. you went to open it and saw that chan was there, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“chan, what’s that?”

“flowers, can’t you see?”, he asked you while coming in

“no you idiot, i can see them. i meant why do you have them”, you closed the door and followed him to the living room

“well, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i went to my girlfriend’s house and didn’t give her anything”, he told you while giving you the flowers

“you’re an idiot, you know that”, you said while taking the flowers from him

“a thank you would have been nice”, he replied sarcastically

you laughed at him, “thank you, chris, they’re very beautiful”

“you’re welcome, i know they’re your favourite “

you nodded while looking at him. for a moment none of you said anything, you just stayed there, looking at each other in the middle of your living room.

you cleared your throat and looked away from him, “right, i’m gonna go and find a vase for the flowers, you can sit down”, you left the room as quickly as you could while trying to seem normal. suddenly the room was very hot and you were almost sure you didn’t have the heater on.

once you put the flowers on a vase, you went back and sat on a chair in front of chan. you started eating while you talked about your day.

he talked about how the recording had gone that day and how han’s voice had broken while he was recording and how they almost pissed themselves while laughing - and you while he told you the story - and you told him how you had been working on different meetings that your boss had planned for the next week.

for an outsider, this scene would perfectly be of a normal couple, eating together while they told each other what they had been doing while they missed each other. that was what you wanted to portray this weekend.

“okay so, we’re leaving tomorrow at 3 right?”, he asked you after you both had finished dinner - and the cake of course.

“yes, it’s an hour drive, so there’s no need to leave earlier than that”

“okay, we’ll go in my car, so i’ll come to pick you up”

“you sure? i can go to your dorm and we can leave from there”, you asked him

“no, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i made my girlfriend move from one place to another? don’t worry, i’ll pick you up”, you felt your heart stutter a bit

“okay”, you looked down trying to calm the blush that had covered your cheeks once again

“y/n, there’s one thing we haven’t talked about”, chan told you a bit serious this time

you looked at him quite surprised, “what?”, you thought you had gone over everything: the plans for everyday, the people that would be there, the kind of questions that your aunt and cousin would ask him, the-

“our limits”, he said

you blinked at him, “our limits?”

“yeah, i mean… we both are kind of touchy and physical people, we are often hugging or close to each other, but if we need to appear to be in a relationship, maybe that’s not enough”, he said while looking at anywhere but you

“right…”

“i-i mean, i’m not saying that we have to make out or any of that, please don’t get me wrong”, he put his hands up trying to defend himself, so you didn’t think bad of him or anything

“no no, don’t worry, i understand what you meant”

“okay…”, he let out a sigh

“i mean, we’re pretty touchy with each other, you’re right, so i guess we could… you know, stay the same, but maybe a bit more? if that makes sense”, you asked him

“yeah, i think that would work, us but a bit more”

“yeah, us a bit more”

“just no kissing on the lips”

“no no, no kissing on the lips”, why would he even say that?

you both were a bit embarrassed at that moment and for the first time in your many years of friendship, the two of you sat in silence, not knowing what to say. it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence it was just… silence charged with something unknown. something that had a lot of weight. but you didn’t know what it was, at least not yet.

“right so, i’m gonna go and finish packing for tomorrow”, he told you while standing up to leave

“oh right, yeah, i have to pack too, so i better get to that now, yeah”, you stood up as well

there was something weird going on between the two of you. you could just tell, but you hoped that it would go away for the weekend, nothing could go wrong in this trip.

“i will call you tomorrow before i leave to make sure you’re ready, okay?”, he asked you while he opened the door

“okay, and chris… thanks again, this means a lot to me”, you told him being completely honest

“don’t even mention it, that’s what friends are for, right?”, you swear you saw something in his eyes when he said that, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared

“yeah, you’re right”, you let out a forced smile, he could see right through it but decided to not say anything

“bye love, see you tomorrow”

and with that, he was gone

you turned around in your bed for the thousandth time that night. it didn’t matter what you did, you couldn’t sleep tonight. your mind wasn’t letting you. your thoughts were running and running and running.

you were nervous about the trip. but not about your aunt, no. about bang chan. chan and you. and your friendship.

you and him were best friends. the very best of friends. but you couldn’t deny that at the beginning of your friendship, you had had a small crush on him. okay maybe it wasn’t that small. or a crush either.

you had been in love with him. probably a small part of you still was. but you knew you two together would never happen because he was your best friend. your were completely sure he only saw you as his best friend. so, as cliche as it sounded, you decided you wouldn’t say anything in order to save your friendship. if the options were having him as your best friend or not having him at all, you would always choose the first one.

you had had relationships after meeting him and while some of them didn’t work because, well… different reasons, some of them didn’t work because you couldn’t help but compare your then boyfriends to chan. what chan would have done if you were with him. you knew you couldn’t do that, but your hearts doesn’t always listen to your head.

so now, after an entire week of planning what you both wanted to be a real - not perfect- couple, your heart couldn’t help but mess up with you. you were creating the plot of the type of life you could have had. but you hadn’t had. and you had to fake it now.

your turned around again, this time placing the pillow above your head. it may have been you the person who just one week ago was sure that this would work out perfectly and that you could definitely do it and blah blah blah. you had been pretending for a week, with just you two. the big nights hadn’t even happened yet. and your heart was already a mess.

you screamed into the pillow. you punched the bed.

why did you have to make this mess in the first place?

why did you bring chan into all of this?

was it really too late to say that you couldn’t go?

“blue hair?”

“mmm, could be, but i’m not sure”

“red hair?”, you tried again

“no, that’s a big no”

“oh listen please, blonde!”, you said excitedly

“really? would you like that one?”

“oh my god, are you kidding? yes please, you looked great with blonde hair”

he laughed at your reaction, “okay i guess i’ll think about it”

you and chan had almost arrived at the cabin and he was telling you that he had been thinking about a new hairstyle for the next comeback and he wanted to know your opinions so you took your opportunity to defend blonde bang chan as the number 1 bang chan

you sighed while looking out the window, feeling the nerves starting again. chan looked at you and saw how anxious you were getting, “hey”, he tried to catch your attention, “look at me”, you did

“everything is going to be fine, alright? i’m going to be with you all the time, and no one’s going to suspect anything okay? we got this”, he held your hand and squeezed it to reassure you that he was there with you. he would always be.

“okay”, you smiled at him

you arrived at the cabin and saw your uncle’s car and also your grandparents’ car. chan parked his car next to theirs and before you got out from the car, he grabbed your hands again, “y/n, we got this okay? your aunt won’t see us coming, we’re gonna make her regret everything bad she has ever said about you okay? i’m with you”

for the first time that day, you felt like you could finally breathe, so after breathing out you replied, “okay, we got this”

“that’s my girl”, he smiled at you and you smiled back at him

when you got out from the car and went to get your suitcases, you saw your parents’ car parking next to chan’s. you looked at chan and saw that he was already looking at you, “you ready?”, you asked him

he nodded, “let’s do this”

your parents left their car and went to hug you, “hi honey, how have you been?” your dad asked you

“i’ve been good, busy with work but good”, you replied while hugging him and your mom after. when you finished, you turned to look at chan, “mom, dad, you remember bang chan right?”, you asked your parents

your mom was a bit surprised to say the least. she had been expecting you to introduce some new boy you had met, not you best friend turned into boyfriend now, “i-i, yeah, of course we remember, how have you been?”

he went up to your parents and meet them properly, “i’ve been very good, thank you, and thanks for having me here this weekend”, as always, chan was the image of perfect son-in-law

“don’t worry, it’s our please son”, it was your dad who talked now

with that, you all took your baggage and went into the cabin. it was time to start the main show

once inside, you hugged and said hello to all of your family and then, introduced chan

“right, so everybody, this is chan…chan, this is everybody”, he bowed politely to your family and you could see that your grandparents took an instant liking to him. your uncle shook his hand too, good sign as well.

but then, the moment you had all been waiting for: your aunt and cousin.

“i feel like i’ve seen you before”, that was the first thing your aunt told him

your cousin, whose mouth had been open wide since she first saw chan entering the house, said “mom, he is bang chan from stray kids!”

“oh, so you’re famous?” that got your aunt’s attention. you didn’t know if that was a good thing or not

“yeah, well… kind of”, you could tell that chan was starting to feel a bit embarrassed, he didn’t like getting this type of attention, especially from people that he knew were not very good towards you.

you took it as your sign to go to your room to unpack and give you two a moment. you went upstairs and closed the door behind you.

“right, sorry about that, but this is the kind of energy we’re going to have this whole weekend so i-“, you stopped talking when you looked at your room. how could you forget about this. your room, the one that you had always used on your own and were using for the first time with your - fake - boyfriend had only one bed. you hadn’t thought about that. you closed your eyes and breathed in. counted till three and breathed out.

“chris, there’s only one bed”, you told him with your back towards him

“mmm, okay, don’t worry about that, i… i can sleep on the floor, there’s no problem”

you turned around so quickly you felt dizzy, “no, you don’t have to do that, i’ll take the floor, you are in this mess because of me, it’s the least i can do”

“no, y/n, i can’t let you do that, i’m fine on the floor don’t worry”

“no, chris, you’re not sleeping on the floor”

“then what?”, he asked you, even though you both knew the answer

you were the first one to break the silence, “we can share the bed, it’s big enough for both of us. besides, we’re supposed to be a couple, so i guess we should sleep together”

“yeah, i guess”, you looked at each other, the same kind of silence that filled your living room yesterday happening again, and it was chan who broke it first for the second time

“let’s unpack everything now, shall we?”, and with that he went towards your suitcases to get everything ready in your room.

you breathed in and out again, you felt like you were going to do that a lot this weekend

the weather had been extremely good all day, so you took it as your opportunity to have dinner on the terrace of the cabin. the conversation had been good for most part: your parents already liked chan from before, and your grandparents and your uncle seemed to like him as well. you couldn’t blame them, chan was easily the best person you had ever met, everyone who knew him liked him. he was just that kind of person.

everything had been going well but of course, it wasn’t going to be like that all night. your aunt and cousin had been analysing him the entire night, whispering between each other and questioning how someone like bang chan - handsome, funny, the image of the perfect guy - could be with someone like, well… you. you were just a normal girl, with a normal job, nothing extravagant about you, who liked everything simple and were happy with small things. how could someone that amazing be with just a random girl?

“so bang chan, you seem to be able to do anything right? i mean, you sing, you write, you dance, you’re kind of perfect”, your aunt told chan when you finished dinner. it seemed that someone had done some research while you had been unpacking.

“well, i wouldn’t say perfect, but we all work hard for the group to achieve new things”, chan replied politely, always including his boys

“no, but you have a successful group under you, who follow your orders, you must be so powerful”, your aunt continued

“they don’t follow my orders, i might be the leader, but we do everything together, we’re a team”, you could see that the question had rubbed chan the wrong way, and while people who didn’t know him wouldn’t notice any changes, you did. you always did

“anyway, having that much power must feel amazing, not forgetting how much you must be paid i’m sure”, you knew your aunt wasn’t shy when she wanted to know something and she wasn’t one to beat around the bush, but even this surprised you. you honestly didn’t even know what to say

chan just smiled at her and reached for his glass to drink, honestly he only did this to have his mouth occupied and not say anything. after all, even if this conversation was only just between you two and your aunt and cousin, your whole family was there and he didn’t want to make a scene.

“bang chan i heard your new comeback is happening soon, are you excited?”, your cousin asked him. this couldn’t be good

“yes, we’ve been working very hard so i’m excited to finally share it with the world”, he answered

“awesome! and are you done with preparing the choreos for promo and all that stuff?”, she continued. where was she going with this?

“kind of, we’re in the middle of all that, just practising choreos and concepts and getting everything ready”

“oh i’ve always loved dancing, i did it when i was a kid. you know, i was very good with movements and also very flexible. i’d love if one day i could go and watch you perform”, she told him while ogling her eyes at him

you rolled your eyes so hard you swear they almost fell from your head. honestly you knew this was gonna be chaos, but not this kind of chaos

chan let out a nervous laugh, not knowing what to reply, “well, i’ll see what i can do”

“or maybe i could go and watch you rehearse. i’m also very into fashion, so maybe i could suggest something that could go with you know… your concepts”, you were about to throw your glass of water on her face. you were going to do it. you were this close to doing it when you felt chan’s hand grabbing your thigh, calming you down.

he knew you better than you knew yourself, so when you pictured yourself throwing water towards your cousin, he had already pictured himself stopping you from doing that.

chan’s hand on your thigh hadn’t gone unnoticed by your aunt, of course not.

“so tell me, how did this thing between you happen?” she asked you

you looked at chan, getting ready to answer your aunt, but found him already looking at you and beating you to it, “well we had known each other for a long time but had never given us a go, you know, it was this kind of “right person, wrong time” thing, until we decided we couldn’t do it anymore, so we just went for it and well, here we are”

your aunt was not happy with his answer

“yeah but, don’t get me wrong, you have such a wonderful life and meet a lot of people, famous people at that, why aren’t you with someone of the same category?”, there it was, the offensive question, nothing that you hadn’t heard before, you were used to it.

but chan wasn’t, and he wasn’t having any of it, he had had enough, “well to be fair, i’ve always been in love with y/n, ever since we first met and the reason why i never said anything was because i thought she deserved better, not someone that would be working everyday and would spend months away. but i couldn’t take it anymore, so i decided to be selfish and confess. and now, i thank my lucky stars every day that she felt the same way, because i’ve never been happier and i just hope i make her as happy as she makes me”

you were speechless and could do nothing else but look at him. you and chan had anticipated that this type of questions could come out and that you would have to deal with them, but you never thought that chan would answer like this. like he was telling the truth. like these were his real feelings. his deepest secret.

you almost believed him completely. almost. you wanted to. but then you remembered that he was supposed to be your boyfriend. and boyfriends said this type of things all the time. “don’t get your hopes up”, you told yourself

“so, to answer your question, i don’t want to be with anyone of my category as you put it, i want to be with y/n, and that’s it”, chan finished and looked at you.

you were in so much trouble.

it was after midnight, everyone had already gone to their rooms. you were sitting in your bed, ready to go to sleep. chan was in the bathroom, getting ready to join you.

you were looking at your phone but got lost in your thoughts. you couldn’t stop thinking about chan’s words before. right person, wrong time he had said. you knew it was all an act but a part of you hoped that it wasn’t. and that hurt a little bit.

you weren’t blaming chan, you would never do that. but this was what you had been dreading the last couple of days. feeding the delusional part of you that believed that chan could have ever felt the same way you felt towards him. that at one time, there possibility of you together had existed, but none of you had been brave enough to take it.

“y/n? you there?”, you heard chan asking you after leaving the bathroom

“yeah, sorry, got lost in my head a bit”

“i could see that”, he laughed at you, “mmm, i usually sleep without a t-shirt on but if you don’t feel comfortable i can put one on”

you had been so lost in your head you hadn’t even realised he only had some shorts on. oh lord.

“no no, it’s okay, i don’t mind”, you told him

“okay”, with that he got into bed with you

“so, first day down, only two to go. thoughts? prayers? do you need me to call the boys so they come and rescue you?”, you asked him while laughing, trying to take some pressure off

he laughed at you and got comfortable next to you, “no no, i’m fine, you don’t need to call the boys. but it was intense, i’ll give you that”

“yeah it was”, you agreed with him

“i still can’t believe you aunt just asked about money like that, like she was asking about, i don’t know, food or clothes”, he told you while laughing uncontrollably

“well my favourite moment was when my cousin flirted with you, i wonder what her boyfriend would think of that”

“y/n, she was not flirting”

“chris, are you fucking kidding me? she sure was”

“well maybe a bit but not full on i think…”, he knew she had been flirting with him but he was trying to make you feel better

“chris, she was this close to jumping your bones right in front of all of us”

“y/n!”, chris snorted at that

“it’s true and you know it!”, you hit him on his chest, making him laugh even harder, “you should have known, you’re the king of flirting”

“i am not”

“yes, you are”

“no, i am not”

“chris, for fuck’s sake”, you went to hit him again, but he grabbed your hand in his

“okay, i’ll admit it, if you say please”, he used one hand to push himself upwards to have a better look at you under him

“chris, fuck off”

“oh i will fuck off, if you say please”, he pushed

“chris”, you were laughing uncontrollably at this point, with tears from laughter falling down your face

“okay okay, we’ll leave it like this for now”, he laid again with his head on the pillow, right next to yours

you turned on your side and looked at him, laughing at him and his antics. he looked at you, feeling relaxed and content, until he saw something and grabbed your head

“oh no, i think you’ve lost it”, he placed his hands on your cheeks while looking at your ear

“what? what did i lose?”, you touched your ear thinking he may be talking about your earring- which was the place he was looking at - but you felt it there, there was nothing missing

“i think you’ve lost your last name, do you wanna take mine?”, he asked you with the biggest smile on his face

“chris for fuck’s sake stop it!”, you hit his chest once again and pushed him, while he just laughed at you

you couldn’t believe this idiot. you looked at him and laughed, just from watching him. because at that moment, you were happy. with him. just you two like no one else existed at that moment.

he looked at you, with a soft smile on his face, and he used his hand to place a lock of your hair behind your ear.

you felt your cheeks blushing again but hoped he wouldn’t see it.

“y/n, i knew these trips were always difficult for you, but i had no idea they could be like this, i’m proud of you for enduring them for so long”, he told you honestly

at that moment, you felt seen. like you always felt with chan. like your feelings mattered. like you were someone important

“thank you”, you didn’t say anything else, you couldn’t

he could see it, so he didn’t push it.

“let’s sleep, it’s been a long day and we have a birthday party tomorrow, and i heard someone brought a delicious cake that i can’t wait to taste”

you laughed at him and got ready to sleep

“i heard the cake was your favourite”, you told him while you closed your eyes

you were almost completely asleep - you hadn’t realised how tired you were - when you heard him whispering

“my favourite is the person who baked the cake”

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chapter two is here my loves! thank you so much for all the love in the first part, i hope you like this one too 🩷

stay tuned for the following chapters :)

my other fics

taglist (ask in comments to be added)

you could call me babe for the weekend taglist: @beyunjinnn @emmiesoverthemoon @skzbiasot8 @havennz @hyunjinxxs @reetheratt @heartwithoutaname @ahseyy @hyvneluv @domicaru @annyeongffs @necrozica @lavunyan @0x1lovesong1 @leylaasroom @bluesungology @sleepyzeiff @velvetmoonlght @encoredesires @sammhisphere @we-are-bloody-inspired @straykids4lifeee @xxestxays @4ng3l-ch1ld @geni-627 @how-are-you-not-fine @luvbangchan

[flowersbane]

“more mid to late 50s” ???

“maybe early 60s” ???????

oh, i am so fucked. i had just come to terms with emmrich being the same age as my parents, but the possibility of him older???????

ha, i’m never gonna psychologically recover from being attracted to someone over thirty years my senior.

[nero-neptune]

close encounters of the third kind is an objectively good movie, but it feels sorta tragic. and i doubt thet was the intention lol. love the cinematography, love the music score, love the visual effects. that's all fun and good. but where everyone else seems to see a movie full of "wonder", it just makes me feel sad. the movie ends the way it does and it leaves me feeling bummed the fuck out.

[bayetea]

oh god my boyfriend is starting to talk about getting a house 🙀

[zellkabellk]

Rambling in the tags don't mind me.

[lylian333]

~Yandere emperor x reader~

warning: read at your own risk, traumatizing, dark historical shits, noncon, force, many misunderstandings,sexual harrest , angst ,age gap, everything here is quite insane, historical au, he's fucking crazy, killing, insults, English is not my first langue(if there's any warning I didn't put, tell me)

words:2180

(this is not my art I found it on Pinterest, and in the comment section it's said that it was made by AI so💀)

~~

Princess (y/n) Laurier has been best friends with Princess Alyssa Everett since you both were just 6 years old. You both have many things in common, such as interests, opinions, and much more.

You both would usually hang out around each other's kingdom; you don't have any issues with her except with her father, Emperor Edward Everett. He was the hottest, most handsome man you have ever met, and you still do now.

You have had a huge crush on him that felt like butterflies inside your stomach since the day you met him, but he always has that emotionless face and rarely smiles unless at his wife, your best friend's mother. You know this from Princess Alyssa; she would complain about how cold and serious he is.

You still ignore those and try getting to know him, but he just looks annoyed or just straight-up ignores you, but you ignore it and still continue liking him. Not only that, you're not the only one; it's obvious that everyone that has met him, females and even males, all drool for him.

You still have some sense in you, and you also have to respect the Everett queen and Princess Alyssa since she is your best friend. You can't just let some love ruin the relationship you both had. You can't. She is like a sister to you. She helps you when you're confused; she protects and defends you when you were getting laughed at; she is there when you needed someone the most. It's not worth losing a relationship like this, and so your liking toward his father slowly dies down.

But things change when you grow up and start having features and curves and in the end, you become a gorgeous woman, many people are jealous of you even Princess Alyssa confesses to you about it and some desperately want you. You reject all of them since none of them are worthy of you, and you're disinterested in them.

Your intense gaze and soft complexion, with your structured face and striking presence, are on par with an iconic beauty, paired with the warmth and softness in your expression, which are very delicate. You would struggle to not look at yourself when there is a mirror.

You still have some feelings toward Emperor Edward, but you manage to hide it and be able to not think about him when talking to him.

The worst thing that could have happened was that the Queen of Everett died from childbirth while trying to give birth to the heir to the throne, but it went to a disaster. It was devastating news to hear from everyone.

The emperor was absolutely devastated and even despised the child. From that moment on he would never talk to anyone unless it was part of a duty, but other than that he would ignore the servant's advisers and even his own kids, which left Princess Alyssa depressed since she had to bear her mother's death, her father's coldness, and the baby boy that her mother lost her life to.

That week she came crying to you when you came to visit her and attended the funeral of the Everett Queen death. You decide to stay at Everett Palace for a few months before going back to Laurier Kingdom.

You promised Princess Alyssa that you'd take care of her and her baby brother, and so you did. After all, back at your kingdom and your family, you have 6 siblings, plus you, and you are the third eldest, which makes you the middle You have experience with babies after the experience of you sibling that you swear are more naughtyer when you take care of them.

In those months of staying, Emperor noticed that you had to take care of the baby boy and Princess Alyass when he found you singing a lullaby for them to fall asleep.

At that moment something in him awoke, something dark, horrible, and disgusting. He knew this was wrong, but who was there to stop him? Not even himself could do that.

From that moment on, he would try getting close to you and getting to know you better; by that, he would call you into his office or into his chamber. When talking, he would get close to you, too close, to the point that he's invading your personal space by burying his face in your hair, breathing in that sweet, gentle scent, or sucking and biting your earlobe.

You knew this was wrong. You both knew this was wrong, but you guys still continued. Your brain keeps telling you to stop and that this is your best friend's father, but your gut tells you to continue. For your best friend Princess Alyssa's sake.

At one of those meetings, you confess to him that you don't want to continue these "meetings" to respect your best friend Alyssa and her baby brother Prince James.

But when he hears that you swear you could feel the air getting tense and his face looks tense as well, and with clenched fists, he looks like he could kill someone that might have been you or others.

He then pushes you onto his office desk and forcefully rips your clothes off. All you can remember that day was just horror, pure fucking horror. It haunts your dreams, memories, and everything that you see that can somehow be related to the day you and he were together.

The cherry on top is Emperor Endward sends an arranged marriage to your kingdom between you both; you pray that your parents would reject this offer, but no. Instead, they accept it and send you a letter telling you the reasons that this could help our kingdom very much and this could give you a better future and more, but all you care about is that you're trapped with him. They also added in that they would be unable to see because of the distance of the two kingdoms and that it is time to set you free.

Oh, how you wish it were true to let you spread your wings and have your own freedom.

You hated everything, mostly yourself. You hated yourself for not being more alert and not telling anyone, not even your own family or close ones; you—you can't even describe the feeling that you're feeling at that point. You quite literally were disgusted by yourself.

You cry all day long to the point where Princess Alyssa hears it and finds you, and you vomit out all the things that happened while still crying. You wish the earth could just eat you whole, make you disappear from the earth, from this world, from this life.

You keep pressuring yourself that this is your fault for days till your hair has a few strands of white hair that you have noticed.

The wedding was within the week, and you both got married and wed. That very day and night of the "honeymoon," he slams you against the bed carelessly and forcibly spears open your legs with his hand while another pins both your head on top of your head.

You whisper near your ear,True to be told, I have actually noticed that since you were just a little girl, you always had a crush on me, so technically you wanted this to happen, so don't cry like last time, dear."

Your eyes go wide when you hear that he actually noticed. He knows that you have no words—absolutely no words.

That night was as horrible and traumatizing as the night you both had together. Princess Alyssa personally tries to help you escape; even after the marriage, she still supports you, even knowing the fact you are technically her stepmother.

But she accepted you, and you were quite stunned at how she handled the situation. Even though it was like hell, she still helped, whether by holding you while you were crying or whatever she was still there. It felt like she was starting to take care of you instead of you taking care of her like how you first promised.

In one of the many attempts of you trying to escape and her helping you with it, you both were caught, and Emperor Edward decided to punish you by isolating you and sentencing Princess Alyssa to be beheaded, his own daughter.

And you were forbidden to give her any visits after the situation. You didn't get the chance to even give her the last hug or talk or anything, not even a goodbye. You even threatened to kill yourself if he didn't allow you to see her, but he just laughs at you and tells the guards to throw you inside a dungeon where there's nothing, not even a window, so you have to rely on the fire outside.

Just like that, she's gone forever. You cry for days and refuse to eat, sleep, or even drink. The king himself has to personally force-feed you so that you don't die. You even scream and beat him as hard as you can in rage whenever you see him, but he just stands there, not unbothered. You might as well think that he doesn't even care or feel anything anymore, no remorse, no nothing, just disgusting lovesick eyes looking at you.

"I just can't get enough of you, love~"

Your life goes on until you have had enough, like enough one more year of this. You seriously don't think you want to be reincarnated into another life. You desperately want to feel things instead of being trapped in the shared chamber all day long, only allowed to go out to the garden for 1 hour to get fresh air with a few ladies in waiting and your own trusted servants near you to keep being aware of you and make sure you're not doing anything harmful to yourself or escaping.

You came up with the stupidest and most shameful idea. You decide to frame yourself for cheating on Emperor Edward and confess to him that you cheated. Making up fake clues for others to notice and gossip about, but the emperor refuses to believe it, so you told him personally.

"I cheated on you, Edward."

"You must be joking, dear. How would you even be able to do that, hm?"

but you just keep repeating the sentence, "I cheated on you."

This makes him overthink and triggers him, and he ends up struggling with you to death in the process. You still keep repeating the sentence, which forces him to grip your neck even harder till you are no longer breathing—not even a single movement, just soulless eyes staring straight.

When he realized that it was too late and there was no turning back, he let go of your neck, and you collapsed onto the ground, dead. He kneeled down next to you; finally, at this moment, he felt guilty for everything. He reflected on the things he had done to you, the amount of damage. Why didn't he think about this earlier? Maybe that could help him.

No, it's your fault for cheating on him. How dare you filthy women cheat on an emperor that has done everything for her sake? To this day he still blames you, but part of him does regret not caring what you felt and thought. He only treated you like a toy, a glass doll that would easily be broken. But he just couldn't help but love you with all his might, even if it meant hurting you.

He tried to keep your body from decomposing and rotting and would soak you in water to slow down the decomposing. He even went mad and brought you to the throne room for events, dressed you properly, stuffed you with cotton to keep you looking more alive, and said to others, "My wife is doing well; look at her, she's such a sleepy head; look at her sleeping, hehe…"

Sadly, eventually, he had no other choice but to finally bury you because your body was decomposing and smelling really bad. At the funeral, he gives a speech on how she was in his life and how he can't believe she died before him from 'sickness' and oh how sad he was and how he saw her glowing up into an elegant woman and more.

Prince James also gave a speech about how you try helping out, that he always sees her as a mother figure, and how (y/n) has always tried her best. He was innocent in all of these; as well, he even balled his eyes out when he found out that you died.

At the very last moment of seeing your face, he cupped your cheek one last time.

"Oh, how much I will miss you oh how I wish that I could go with you as well, but it's fine you don't need to worry love In my will, when I die, I'm going to be buried right next to you." He says that while chuckling while feeling remorse.

~~

omg, there are so many things I want to comment on but erm yeah this is how it is??? it could have been worse

[luveline]

could you write bau!reader x aaron, reader is pregnant and baby is so restless and kicking a lot as reader is at her desk working and aaron is the only one who can calm baby down

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader, 1k

“Woh,” you mumble, almost clipping your head on your desk as you lean forward. “Oh, my gosh.” 

“What’s wrong, mama?” 

You wave your free hand weakly at Derek, the other to your bump. “Nothing’s wrong, handsome.” 

Derek laughs warmly and stands from his chair. “I don’t believe you. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Or I’ll go get the big man and he can force it out of you himself.” 

Hotch’s never forced anything out of you, but he has kissed a confession from you before. He could do it again easily. 

You right yourself as the baby’s rampant kicking makes you feel as though you’ll pee your pants. “Derek, there’s some crazy stuff happening inside of me right now.” 

He smiles at you fondly. “I bet there is.” 

“She’s kicking the shit out of me.” Sitting up, your back twinges and relaxes, the weight of your baby bump spreading out. You’re very pregnant and the baby is extremely active. She kicks pretty much 24/7 these last few days, and it’s driving you crazy. “Do you wanna feel?” 

Derek presents his hand for feeling. You stand up, and Derek lays a hand across your bump. You don’t have to move it anywhere: the second he touches you, he can no doubt feel the baby’s aggressiveness. She’s aiming her little feet almost like she knows where your most fragile organs are. 

One rough kick has Derek taking back his hand. “She’s beating you up, mama.” 

“She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Spencer says, twirling in his chair to give one of his innocuous tidbits of information, “babies kick for all sorts of reasons. They kick when they’re hungry, or after you’ve just eaten because of the extra glucose shared via the placenta. Sometimes they kick because they can feel sensation through your skin.” 

Spencer stands up. You raise your brows. “You wanna feel?” you ask. 

He grins and offers his hand. You take it and place it against the baby’s restless feet, smiling at Spencer’s smile, a little enchanted by how fascinated he seems. At Spencer’s touch, she starts to kick quickly like she had been with Derek, and eventually you have to move his hand in the hopes she’ll stop. She slows, but the occasional stretch pokes at your stomach. You can see the distension of her limb even through your shirt. 

“She’s really going for it today,” you say. “Maybe I had too much brown sugar in my oatmeal.” 

“You know babies can tell the difference between hands?” Spencer asks. 

“I sort of guessed,” you say distractedly, rubbing at the baby’s kicking with the crest of your palm. “She doesn’t act like this with Hotch.” 

“Good to know he has that effect on everyone,” Derek says with a laugh. 

“I might go and ask him to make her stop. I’m gonna need a change of clothes if she doesn’t.” 

Derek laughs again, full-bellied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders in a pitying hug. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll be okay. Just two more months and this will all be over.” 

“Well, you never know. The longest overdue pregnancy in human history was almost a hundred days, that’s more than an extra three months.” 

“Spencer!” you say, not truly shouting, but your volume escaping you as the horror of a year long pregnancy sinks in. “Don’t jinx me.” 

Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Hotch, who appear from the depths of his office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Hotch stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation. 

“Baby Hotchner’s giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“She won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. “Can you come and set her straight?” 

You aren’t always so quick to complain to him, but this is too much. It feels as though she’s about to start doing spin kinks against your spine —it’s honestly the most she’s ever moved. When you were just a few weeks pregnant you’d longed for her to wriggle and show you a sign that she could feel you, but now you’d appreciate a few minutes of calm. 

Hotch follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm. 

“She really is giving it large,” he says, the deep softness of his voice like a signal. 

The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop. Your spine ceases vibrating, and you can finally stand there without having to press your thighs together. 

“Thank you,” you say, holding Hotch’s elbow. He’s well and truly saved you. 

He rubs your stomach with his thumb. His dark eyes stay set on your bump. “You’re welcome.” 

“I guess baby just missed her dad,” JJ says. 

You look at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything. “No correction?” you ask. 

“No,” he says, pouting that you’d ask. “Either she missed the sound of his voice, or your reaction to seeing him has calmed her down. That’s not a big difference.” 

“It’s both, I think,” you say, paused by a big yawn. 

“Are you tired?” Hotch asks. 

“Urgently.” You let yourself sag forward toward him, gesturing for Spencer, Derek and JJ to look away. “Thanks for your help, boys, but I need something no one else can give me.” You collapse into Hotch’s chest for a hug. 

The bump is very much in the way, but he reacts accordingly, ushering your chest to his, cheek pressed gently to your forehead. “She’s exhausted you,” he teases under his breath. 

“She really has.” 

“I love how she settles with me,” he says, rubbing your back for a long, slow handful of seconds, before he pulls away enough to grin at you. “But I suppose she gets that from her mother.” 

“You’re very calming.” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 8

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 7, Part 9

The walk to Sylus’ room is reminiscent of one to the gallows. You’ve seen those walks in people’s souls, how each step makes their throat tighten more and how they seem to mentally wait for each heartbeat to come. Like every step or every breath or ever beat is going to be their last.

That’s the only way you can think of to describe how you feel right now. A place that once meant safety and comfort to you has been tainted. It’s been warped, smeared, and destroyed in a way that a you from a few weeks ago would’ve never imagined.

Because now, you’re walking there with fear. Fear of Sylus of all people. Your partner in crime. Your confidant. Your closest friend. Your Morana.

You don’t want to think of him this way. Far from it. But Miss Hunter’s words, her shaky tone and fidgety hands, make you this way. The chaos of emotions in her threads make you this way. Everything about how she was when describing her time with Sylus make you this way.

Modification of her Evol.

You know very well what those words mean. You know what it looks like, feels like. You know all of this because it’s woven into her soul.

And her own soulmate tried to do that to her. Tried to split her open. Try to warp her and smear her and destroy what makes her her.

Rage and betrayal and whole other slew of emotions boil up inside of you. Each step makes you wonder when you’ll explode, when you’ll break from all of this.

You try to combat this with each breath. Each deep, hard-fought, breath. You try to embrace a wave of calm, to tamper down the craziness and be who you normally are: in control.

Nothing helps. Nothing works. And before you know it, you’re knocking at that accursed bedroom door.

Since when am I so polite with him?

A weak laugh escapes your lips. You stifle it down the moment the door begins to open.

Sylus is disheveled, an odd sight for someone who can look put together even in the middle of a gun fight. He just stares at you. His eyes refuse to leave yours, as if you’ll vanish if he so much as blinks.

It’s awkward, strained. An uncomfortable atmosphere that hasn’t been between you two in years. You can’t stand it.

“May I come in? I believe we have some things to discuss.”

Sylus says nothing. He looks deeply uncomfortable. It’s subtle, something most wouldn’t notice. But you’ve known him far too long. The slight flicker in his eyes down to the way he walks tells you everything. He’s off. He’s lost.

Not that you’re much different. Your tone earlier was cold, professional, and distant. Entirely lacking the usual playfulness or joy you’d have from simply interacting with Sylus.

You quickly step in his room once he moves aside for you. You don’t spare Sylus a glance. Any further looks would just deter you from your task.

This cannot go on.

Sylus’ treatment of Miss Hunter weighs on you. If you thought it was bad before, it’s far, far, worse now. Experiments? Changing her Evol? Scaring her so much she subconsciously rejects her own soulmate?

It’s arguable the worst start to any love story you’ve ever heard or seen. And you have more experience with that than anyone. You see them in every thread. You hear them in every soul.

All except mine.

You stare at Sylus’ empty bed to distract yourself from that rabbit hole of emotions, one you’re familiar with. You walk towards the bed. But you don’t sit on it. Rather, you just trace mindless patterns into the sheets to calm yourself.

Eventually, you turn to face the man whose room you stand in. Sylus stands with his back on the door. The lock is turned shut. And his arms are crossed, as if he’s shielding himself from you.

Since when were you two like this: weary and afraid of one another? After the argument today? After the one a few days ago? When Miss Hunter arrived? Or was it always there, brewing silently beneath your soft touches and charming smiles?

Whatever the case, you’ve never quite felt such distance from Sylus. You stand in the same room you two have shared for god knows how long, looking right at each other. And yet, you couldn’t be farther apart.

You tap your fingers on the bed like you did the night before Miss Hunter arrived. Tap. Tap. Tap. It’s the only sound that fills your ears until Sylus finally speaks.

“Can I explain now?”

To anyone else, his tone would be calm, demanding, and dripping with that usual hint of arrogance that he has. To you, he practically begs. Screams, even.

He only does that rarely. Like earlier today during your argument after your collapse. Which, given that specific context, made sense. Sylus was out of rhythm. His emotions were chaotic. He does care for you, after all. And you had just screamed your lungs out and passed out in front of him.

Who wouldn’t be shaken by that even a little?

You think over your next words for a moment, pushing that memory of your mind. What is there to explain? You’ve heard everything from Miss Hunter. You know what he tried to do.

Old wounds open up the more you think about it. The pinpricks of needles. Your home becoming a revolving door of doctors when you had no sign of a soulmate by age 10. The increasing prevailing sense of something being wrong with you the longer it went on.

They’re phantom pains, echoes of a past that only emerges when you sleep. They’re ghosts you tell no one about. They’re wounds that only you have ever dressed.

What was done to you was done in good faith. Much like what Sylus did. You could see it in his soul, see it in his thread. And it told you he wanted her to remember. He wanted his sorceress back at any cost.

But you wanted here his words. His interpretations and thoughts from his own mouth.

“Go ahead,” you gesture with your hand.

So Sylus does explain. Just not what you thought he would.

He goes into detail about his deal with Miss Hunter. About the brooch. About her search. About the twins and their pranks. About everything.

You look at him with scrutinizing eyes. You don’t search his soul; you have no need to.

In him, you find the truth and only the truth. You find no deception, no hidden meanings, nothing. It’s probably the most honest he’s been with you since Miss Hunter’s arrival.

“I never even had the brooch on me,” he chuckles a bit before he continues. “I don’t know why she ever thought I did.”

“Then where is it?”

“In your favorite book. On page 70. You know the scene.”

You absolutely do know the scene. It makes you smile even in this moment.

“Seriously? How on Earth do you expect her to know anything about my taste in literature?”

“You two spend so much time together I figured you were “besties” by now,” he says the words a great amount of sarcasm that makes you relax a bit.

It’s not much. But, you lean into the familiarity.

“Besides. Even if she didn’t know the significance of the book, I thought I’d do her a favor and introduce her to something good to read. She claims to be bored during her time here, and I wanted to be a more gracious host.”

You snort at his comment. Sylus tilts his head at you.

“What?”

You want to say, ”A gracious host? After kidnapping her and threatening her and almost turning her into a lab rat for the second time in her current life?” But you shake your head and say nothing.

Sylus seems to brush it off. His eyes soften and he takes a step towards you. When you don’t move away, he comes even closer, standing beside the foot of the bed while you stand in the same position next to the head.

“That’s all there is to what you saw. It wasn’t,” he pauses for a moment, searching for the words. “It wasn’t anything like you thought it was. Just a series of… interesting events.”

You just nod once more, turning your head to the bed again. You go back to tracing patterns in it, trying to rally yourself for the real conversation.

“Gamayun?”

You give him a quiet hum, but you don’t look up at him. You trace words into the bed, words from the scene of the book he placed the brooch in. They comfort you.

“Say something?”

You say nothing.

“What’s got you so quiet? Normally you talk my ear off, even when I’m being a fool.”

You make a hasty drag against the sheets, and the irritating sound that follows shocks both of you.

“Because I’m not here about what you just talked about and you know it.”

Or, at least, he should know it. He should know that him taking Miss Hunter to Philip is why you’re here. He should know why you’re so angry about him doing that. He should know.

He should know because he knows you were the one to find the twins. Two boys in agony, one covered in crystals. Children suffering because of selfish adults. Just like Sylus did. Just like Miss Hunter did. Just like you did.

The logical part of you knows that his goals for what he did weren’t anything like the ones that got the twins in that state. But, the other part of you, the one that made you come here, won’t listen.

That part of you remembers all those doctors. It remembers the padded rooms and the repeated cycles of accusations. It remembers the fear. It remembers the pain. And it remembers when you finally decided to run from all that.

That part of you is loud. It’s loud, it’s obnoxious, and it wants to cry. It wants to shed vicious tears and wretched sobs. But it doesn’t. It can’t. Because it wasn’t listened to in the past.

Why would this time be any different?

Because Sylus isn’t them, you remind yourself.

He’d listen to you. He has to listen to you. Sylus is a flawed man, not a monster. He’s a desperate and flawed man who just wants the love of all his lives back. He’s a desperate and flawed man who made a mistake.

And he has to know that, right?

“Than why are you here right now, my sweet Gamayun? Surely not to repeat the earlier interesting series of events? Or maybe go even further?”

“You’re deflecting,” you say immediately.

His usual jokes don’t make you flustered. Instead, they make you angrier as he avoids what you need yet again.

“That’s not an answer, sweetie.”

Something in you snaps. Maybe it’s the use of an old nickname. Maybe it’s due to another deflection. Maybe it’s both.

Either the case, you finally address the dreadful elephant in the room, “Why did you bring her to Philip?”

You ask because you want him to admit it himself. Hearing him say the words, the man you’ve loved for over a year, rather than Miss Hunter, the soulmate of said man, will makes things clearer.

Maybe it’ll undo the knot in your stomach and the dread that courses through your veins. Maybe his explanation will make the phantom needles go away, and drown out the screams of your precious boys.

Part of you knows that neither will happen. The other, more optimistic and the one that clings to your love, begs for something otherwise.

All that hopes drains away when you see the color leave Sylus’ face. His color seeps away at the same pace as your fleeting hope.

Oh God, what did you do, Sylus?

Miss Hunter didn’t give you any details. You can only speculate. But with this severe of reaction, especially coming from Sylus (who’s done a lot of questionable shit that he knows you’d never judge him for), you’re not sure you can handle the answer.

Miss Hunter avoiding your questions and looking apprehensive to tell you anything is one thing. Sylus doing it is a whole other can of worms. You steel your heart for whatever happens next.

“We weren’t resonating. I thought there was a problem with her. There isn’t, so we left.”

It’s about the same thing she told you. Enough to give you the gist. Enough to explain her fear and her discomfort. But not enough to explain Sylus’. Not nearly enough, given everything he’s seen and been through in both of his lives.

So you push, “Did you two rehearse your excuses, or did you both conveniently give me the same nonsense in hopes I wouldn’t press? Whatever the case, you ought to practice lying to me better.”

Sylus appears unaffected by your words. You, of course, know better. The slight knit of his brows, the way he holds himself and leans a tad more to one side. He’s so obvious to you that it’s painful.

“You really going to lie to me again, Sylus? After what happened last time?”

That full on makes him flinch. Your heart wavers as a result. That was a low blow. You both know that. And yet, you can’t back down. Because all you can see in your mind’s eye is the twins.

Luke trying to claw at his face, to etch in the same scars his brother carries. Kieran forcing himself to grow up even more as a result of that instability. The way they would both duck from mirrors, or even flat out shatter them, during those first few days.

Dozens and dozens of memories like that just sit in your mind. A weight unlike any weight you’ve ever carried. It festers there. It seeps into your veins, into your heart, and into your words.

You can’t escape it.

“What exactly are accusing us of, sweetie? Be specific. You how I hate to beat around the bush, and waste time.”

You do. And that’s exactly why you’re the negotiator of this business and not him.

Soon, she will take that place. Soon, I’ll need a new role in a new place.

“Is there anything in particular I should be accusing you of?” You counter.

“Not in my mind,” he glances you over from head to toe. “But that seems to be the case in your mind.”

A smirk crosses his lips. It’s not one of humor.

He words hit you to the core.

“That’s not an answer,” you shakily manage to get out.

“Well, if my answers aren’t satisfactory, maybe you can give me a direct question? As you say, it’s harder to avoid something if there’s no room to do so.”

That stupid smirk is still there. His eyes are still cold, colder than you’ve ever seen them directed at you.

“Did you or did you not hurt her?” You tone gets firmer the more you speak.

Sylus’ expression changes again. Not to one of humor or playfulness or anger like you expected. No, the Sylus before you was none of those right now.

He was betrayed.

“Who exactly do you think I am?”

“I don’t know!” You finally raise your voice despite all efforts not to. “I don’t know… why do you think I’m here? I need answers, Sylus. I need conformation that I’m missing something and that you didn’t do what I think you did.”

You pause for a moment, choking on your own words and emotions, “I need the truth from you. Please. I need the truth about this at the very least.”

Sylus says nothing for a moment. And you worry that this’ll be a rehash of your first fight. The fight that broke you. The fight that drove you away.

“My relationship to her isn’t your problem.”

Suddenly, you feel sick. But then, Sylus finally says something and you chase that nausea away, kicking it down with your professionalism.

“I want her gone,” he says with an odd amount of levity. “She isn’t worth the trouble she’s causing, so I pushed my plans forward ahead of schedule.”

You don’t entirely know what to say to that.

“Pardon?” You laugh a deranged laugh. “You brought her here. Why ever would you want her gone now after no progress on what ever it is that you need from her?”

“Like I said: she isn’t worth the effort. And I refuse to waste my time on useless things.”

“Useless? You have the gall, the absolute audacity, to call her useless?”

You aren’t yelling, despite how much you want to be. And that want gets stronger the amused Sylus appears.

“Why do you care so much about her, sweetie? She’s my guest, not yours.”

”Because she’s your soulmate. Because she’s the key to your happiness,” is what you want to say.

Instead, what comes out is, “Because I’ve become quite attached to her. And I find your attitude towards her appalling.”

“Of course you would, sweetie,” his voice gets quieter and softer. “Of course you would.”

Sylus gets close to you, putting his fingers beneath your chin and tilting your head upwards. You don’t resist; in fact, you embrace the small touch as much as possible.

“Because you have such a bleeding heart.”

You roll your eyes at him. Normally, Sylus says that to tease you. Like on negotiations where you spare the business partner in question. Or when you talk him down from simply killing his opponent and into seeing their usefulness. Or any of the numerous times you’ve brought in a stray animal and nursed it back to health.

He always says it in a teasing tone, almost mocking. But now, he says it with fondness.

Or love, your delusional and desperate brain says.

As soon as that thought cross your mind, you take a step back. Sylus immediately releases his hold on your chin, disappointment flashing across his face. Or, at least, that’s what you think you see.

“My heart aside,” you say to calm yourself and get your heart to stop racing. “That doesn’t change the fact that your behavior towards her has been reprehensible. Deplorable, even.”

“Why are so obsessed with her, Gamayun? Should I be jealous? She’s been tearing us apart just by being here. Don’t tell me she’s gone even further…”

He says it with jest and usual nonchalant attitude. But something in you tells you there’s more to it.

“Because of my bleeding heart, as you say,” you smile a bit before going back to a more serious expression. “And the fact that you two seem to hold so many secrets that I’m not privy too despite your less than stellar relationship.”

Suddenly, something in Sylus changes. You can’t quite put your finger on it, other than the fact that you strangely feel like prey. Like he’s hunting you or something like that. You’re on your guard. You’re waiting for him to strike.

Sylus lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re not being truthful with me either, sweetie.”

That makes you pause.

“This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” He takes a step closer to you, the smirk on his lips thinning and his expression shifting to a more softer one.

You don’t know exactly what’s in that smirk. Anger? Bitterness? Hurt?

Hatred? Annoyance? Grief? your thoughts whisper before you can shut them down.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Sure, sweetie,” he’s surprisingly genuine and not sarcastic with his tone. “Sure it isn’t.”

“What in the world are you going on about this time?”

Fear drips into your words. You hope it isn’t noticeable. But judging by Sylus’ face, you didn’t succeed.

I’ve lost my touch.

Being so utterly emotional for the past few days has done this to you. Made cracks in your armor that show more and more with every passing second.

Sylus reaches for you again. And you, again, accept the touch. He cradles you head, hands delicately cupping your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks in a way he knows soothes you.

Foolish man and his foolish tenderness when you’re supposed to be angry at him.

“Your obsession with her. I’ve never seen you act this way.”

You’ve never seen me try to mend the bond between someone I love and their soulmate before. But, hey, there’s a first time for everything?

“I am not obsessed. I do not do obsessed.”

Sylus frowns. You’re the one doing the deflecting now. You’re the one using humor as a distraction now.

“Than what you call all this?” He keeps stroking your cheeks with a featherlight touch.

“Care? Empathy? Because, as you know, I have a bleeding heart.”

It’s getting harder to keep your tone light. You hope that your voice never wavers. You pray that Sylus doesn’t notice how your skin warms from embarrassment or how fast your heart rate is.

You can’t even look him the eyes. And you struggle with all your might not to squirm.

“Your bleeding heart has never gone this far. Nor made you this mad at me,” the chuckle he lets out at the end of his sentence is bitter, but his eyes are still as sweet as ever.

Every statement Sylus makes feels like he’s ripping you open more and more. Like the claws of the fiend he was has made their way around the individual bones of your ribcage and is slowly but surely prying them open. It’s like he wants to expose your heart to the world.

Your brain is beginning to fog. Your mouth is beginning to dry. And the urge to run from here is getting heavier and heavier. Your feet are glued to the ground, and at the same time, they feel like they want to take flight.

When was the last time I felt this way? When I was still back home? At the jewelry store? Or maybe my old bar job?

“Well, most people I deal with are people of the N109 Zone. They’re far more secretive and, how do you and the twins put it, murderous than little Miss Hunter.”

You speak in hopes of cutting off your own horrible train of thought. It doesn’t work very well.

So you keep talking, “Speaking of Miss Hunter, I’m no closer to having an earthly idea of why she’s here. And whatever plans you have with her seem sloppy for your standards. I’d give them negative reviews. Maybe that’s why you didn’t share them with me?”

Another crack in your armor shows with your final teasing question. A crack that Sylus sees judging by how he takes his hands off your face and a step away from you.

“Than I’ll share my ideas with you to get some feedback for a better showing next time.”

You consider your words. Because this is your chance. Your chance to be in the know. The chance to know the truth. The chance to hear from Sylus’ own lips about why he brought this woman here.

But, you’ll also have to hear about their connection. Their past. And their future as soulmates.

You couldn’t hear that. You can barely think about it and see the proof with your own eyes everyday. Hearing it… well, that’s another story.

If he had offered this before their bond, you would’ve taken it. Jumped for joy, even. But you can’t now.

I can’t hear you say that you two are soulmates. I can’t hear you talk about your destined love and what that means for your future. I can’t.

Because hearing that means I can’t lie to myself any longer.

Hearing Sylus’ conformation means you take away that last layer of protection you have, that last bit of lies you tell yourself. Because you’ve know for years what the threads you see mean. You’ve confirmed it several times since you first saw them at age 7.

But, with Sylus, sometimes you cling to thought of being wrong. Of not seeing what you think you’re seeing. His words are all that it would take for that temporary peace to come crashing down.

Who in their right mind would do that to themselves?

“No. After all, I’m just a lowly actress in this show of ours. I’m no director.”

“Oh, you are no actress, Gamayun. If anything, you’re my director and writer. I’m merely here to finance whatever your heart desires to create. So, let us discuss our visions for Miss Hunter, and draw up a new episode this season.”

“I’d rather you consider this my resignation from that role into a new one. Because acting is starting to sound more appealing.”

Sylus pulls back. His face falls, and lets out a deep sigh that shakes you to your core.

“Than what do you want from me, Gamayun?” He pulls you close again, your head resting on his chest. “I’m so tired of fighting with you over something, someone, so trivial.”

Tired.

That one words carries so much weight. It seeps into your lonely soul.

It’s exactly how you feel. How all that’s happened recently has made you feel. How all the secrets and the soulmates and the unrequited love has made you feel.

You’ve been tired for years. For so long you no longer know what “rest” really feels like.

Tired of loving a world that would reject you in a second. Tired of holding it together. Tired of lying.

And maybe that’s why you did what you did. Maybe that’s why you hurt Sylus. Because you’re tired of always being the one to run.

People in your life drifted from you, yes. But it was always you that had to put the final nail in the coffin of your relationships.

So maybe that’s why you’re so tired. And maybe you wanted to make Sylus tired. Tired of you. So tired of you and your shit that he just turns his back on you permanently.

Tired.

“I’m tired too,” is all you can muster at the moment.

You pull back from Sylus. But not for long. As soon as you slip out of his embrace, you sit on his bed and pat the place beside you. He sits down immediately.

The way you two sit, facing each other and knocking knees together, reminds you of the position you and Miss Hunter sat in not too long ago. It warms you heart in an ironic and bitter way.

But you chase those thoughts away to focus. Focus on Sylus and focus on what you need to do right now. You take his hand, giving it light squeeze, before you look him directly in the eyes and begin speaking.

“I’m sorry,” it’s hard to get the words out, not out of pride, but out of pain. “For pulling away. For being so hostile earlier. For saying… no, threatening to leave you. And for not trusting you.”

For hurting you, and doing that so you’d chase me away. For making you believe I could just abandon you. For being jealous of you finding your destined love. For acting like a complete ass. For being hurt by some silly words.

I’m so sorry, my Morana.

“I’m sorry too.”

“For?” You press him, despite the discomfort on his face.

“For the lying. For what I said when you confronted me. For not telling you about my plans to bring Miss Hunter here. For not telling of my plans with—“

“You don’t need to apologize for that.”

The shock on Sylus’ face is evident. Even if he doesn’t completely show it.

“I’m not entitled to every little thing in your life. Just as you aren’t mine. We both need to learn to be okay with that.”

You pause before continuing, “And we both are entitled to space whenever we want and for however we want. Just as long as we communicate things.”

Sylus just nods. He squeezes your hand tighter. His eyes have his signature glimmer back. One so uniquely Sylus you don’t know how to describe it.

My selfishness dulled that glimmer.

As you and Sylus just talk for a bit, you think to yourself about your new plan.

I can’t just leave. And even with Miss Hunter as my replacement, I need a better idea for my departure. Somewhere away from the two of them, but with ties to my current life so that there’s no suspicion._  An idea hits you: Onychinus has many connections, many of which you forged yourself.

Kai did always want to recruit me. Maybe I’ll finally take her up on the offer?

Author's Note: Also, please go to the original blurb to ask to be added to the taglist (it's impossible for me to keep checking every part every time I update).

2nd Author's Note: Do you prefer long chapters or short chapters? This story will be pretty long regardless, i just want to see what people prefer.

3rd Author's Note: Ikigai, Fun Fact = I originally was going to make this a one shot (and then plot ran away after breaking my kneecaps) and one where Reader didn't realize they were dating the entire time (but I wanted Sylus to suffer more, so I just made them very touchy, but with a line in the sand).

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano, @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

[yuujispinkhair]

Boxer!Sukuna Part 2 - Becoming a Dad

I got this lovely ask about how Boxer!Sukuna would react if Reader got pregnant, and I wanted to write a little something for it. Thank you so much for sending me that.

You can read Part 1 of my Boxer!Sukuna headcanons here

Pairing: Boxer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: 18+, fluff + mentions of smut. Pregnancy, mentions of boxing injuries, modern AU. Sukuna + Reader are engaged. You can read Part 1 for more general headcanons about Boxer!Sukuna, and his and Reader's relationship. But you don't need Part 1 to understand Part 2. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

++ Boxer!Sukuna feels as if one of his opponents punched him in the guts when you place the positive pregnancy test in his lap and look at him with big, worried eyes. He catches himself quickly, though, when he sees how anxious you are, and pulls you on his lap, and wraps you in his strong arms. One large hand cups your head and cradles it against Sukuna's broad chest. "Hey, princess. It's ok. You hear me, sweetheart? Everything is fine."

++ Boxer!Sukuna sure as hell won't let you be scared. He is man enough to comfort you when you need it, even though he is probably just as nervous as you are. If you listen closely, you can hear how fast his heart is beating, but Sukuna makes sure to distract you from that by pressing his lips against your temple and murmuring reassurance to you, followed by little kisses.

++ Boxer!Sukuna never thought he would have kids. But he also never thought he would find love. But you changed him. You taught him love. So he thinks that you can also teach him how to be a dad. And the thought of having a baby with you fills him with such warmth and pride that he just knows he wants this and will make it work.

++ Boxer!Sukuna's low voice is as sure and confident as ever when he tells you, "Take your time to decide what you want. I will be with you on every path you choose. I love you. I'm your man, always. I couldn't imagine having a screaming little brat with anyone else. But with you? Yeah, absolutely. And if you make me a daddy, then I will make damn sure to be a good one. I want to have that baby with you."

++ Boxer!Sukuna can't help but smile when you press your face into his defined pecs and tell him that you are scared but that you want to have a baby with him, too.

++ Boxer!Sukuna is already your fiancé anyway, but if he hadn't already asked you to marry him, he would have done so right now after finding out you carry his baby under your heart.

++ Boxer!Sukuna places a large hand on your belly, his long fingers sprawling gently over it. It's astounding that a strong, rough man like him can touch someone this tenderly. It surprises him, too, and he laughs softly, already knowing he will be such a menace during your pregnancy. Super protective and always taking the best care of his soon-to-be wife and mommy of his little brat.

++ Boxer!Sukuna catches himself being more careful in the ring as your pregnancy progresses. He used to let his opponents land a few hard punches to rile him up and give the crowd a good show. But now he doesn't want to risk an injury. He is going to be a dad soon. He will have such a big responsibility. He cannot afford to get injured and land himself in the hospital for several weeks, or worse, have a lifelong injury that keeps him from being the husband and father he wants to be.

++ Boxer!Sukuna changes his tactic, dropping the playful show and instead ending his fights earlier with merciless, hard punches, which are aimed precisely. The fans are still cheering like crazy and happy about the show he gives them when Sukuna wins every fight with a knockout.

++ Boxer!Sukuna feels even more motivated now that you are having his baby. He wants to win the championship and that new advertising deal with that big clothing line. The one he has turned down for years because he thought it was stupid. But now he will say yes because he wants to get more money so he can assure his beautiful wife and baby will always have a good life and never have to worry about money at all.

++ Boxer!Sukuna is a busy man with all the long hours he has to invest in training and in the preparation for his fights. But he always tells his personal assistant, Uraume, to make time in his busy schedule for your doctor appointments during the pregnancy. He wants to be by your side. Wants to drive you there and make sure you get there safely. He wants to hold your hand while the two of you look at the ultrasound of your tiny baby, letting you know that Sukuna will keep his word.

++ Boxer!Sukuna has always been a very caring boyfriend/fiancé, and now he is an even more caring husband and soon-to-be daddy. Seeing you with your big baby bump makes him want to wrap you in his strong arms at all times, ensuring you are safe and taken care of.

++ Boxer!Sukuna loves bonding with you and your baby that’s growing inside you. You laugh and tease him for being so clingy, but he knows you love it. Sukuna loves showering with you, standing behind you, so much taller than you, letting you lean against his strong body while he wraps his arms around you, holding you safely in his embrace, making sure you won't slip. His large hands sprawl over your swollen belly while his lips trail kisses from your neck to your shoulders, and he grins anytime he feels his little baby kick strongly against mommy's belly and daddy's hand.

++ Boxer!Sukuna is extremely protective of you and his little daughter once she is born. No pictures are allowed. The paparazzi don't even dare come to your street. They try it once when you get out of the hospital with your newborn baby, but Sukuna scares them off by punching one of them. He has a mad grin on his tattooed face, sneering at that guy and telling him, "If you or any of your colleagues come near my wife or child, I will do the same thing again, but this time I'll make sure to knock out some of your teeth."

++ Boxer!Sukuna has won so many fights, so many titles and yet nothing touched him like holding his little girl in his strong, tattooed arms, gently swaying her from side to side at 3 am, after Sukuna rolled over in bed and kissed your naked shoulder, telling you to get some more sleep, "I will take care of the little princess." And now he is gazing down at this tiny little baby. His and your baby. And somehow, his vision is so blurry, and his eyes feel so weirdly moist.

++ Boxer!Sukuna smiles, a real smile, as he blinks the tears that almost welled up away and tells his little daughter, "You are the most perfect baby ever, little one. Not like all those ugly brats I see everywhere." He laughs to himself, low and raspy, just when you come out of the bedroom, rolling your eyes as you walk up to him with a matching laugh falling from your lips. You get on your tiptoes to kiss the tattoos on Sukuna's cheek and tell him he is the worst, with a voice full of love, and Sukuna thinks he is the luckiest guy ever.

++ Boxer!Sukuna wraps one strong arm around you and pulls you against his tall, muscular body, hugging you gently while he carries your little baby in his other arm. Holding both of his girls, grinning because he knows this here is the best thing he ever had. Better than any title he has ever won and will ever win.

++ Boxer!Sukuna still needs you to kiss his boxing gloves before each fight. But now he also added a new ritual. Brushing over the soft hair of his little daughter with his boxing gloves before he leans down to press a kiss on her little forehead and tell her, "Daddy will win this fight. For you and mommy."

++ Boxer!Sukuna is mature enough to know that a boxing arena isn't the right place for a baby, so he would never ask you to sit in your usual spot but rather have you backstage, cuddling your daughter while you watch his fight on the screen without all the loud noises and the riled up atmosphere. But on the evenings, when you have a babysitter and you can sit in front of the boxing ring, Sukuna fights extra well, spurred on by the knowledge that you are there. Just like he fucks you extra good in his private locker room afterward, taking you hard and rough against the wall, loving that he and you can be as loud as you want here, making sure you squeal his name over and over again like a prayer.

++ Boxer!Sukuna still takes you on dinner dates on those nights when you have someone who looks after your daughter. Because he wants the two of you to always stay lovers, too, and not just mommy and daddy. He makes sure to savor those dates thoroughly, flirting with you, leaning across the table to kiss you and whisper dirty things in your ear, or complimenting you on how beautiful you look. He makes sure to not just fuck you all riled up after a fight but also make sweet slow love to you, telling you to look deeply into his maroon eyes as he rolls his hips against yours and lets you feel every inch of his long and thick cock.

++ Boxer!Sukuna is very passionate about his boxing career, but his little family always comes first. When you are sick, he cancels a big fight just so he can stay home and look after you and your daughter, and somehow, it makes him become even more popular because suddenly, the big, bad boxing champion seems a lot more human to everyone.

++ Boxer!Sukuna is adamant about teaching his little girl how to fight, just like her daddy. She gets her first boxing gloves on her third birthday. Pink ones with Hello Kitty on them, and Sukuna proudly shows her how to punch the little punching bag he bought for her and installed in the living room.

++ Boxer!Sukuna never wants his daughter to actually follow in his footsteps and become a boxer because he knows he won't be able to stand in front of the ring and watch his little princess get hit. But he is so proud of her when she punches her little punching bag.

++ Boxer!Sukuna tells his little girl to fight him, grinning his boyish grin as he circles around the living room doing a "boxing match" against his little one. He lets her land several punches on his abs, and Sukuna groans dramatically and sinks to his knees before he lets himself fall onto his side and lie there, holding back his laughter while you count to ten and declare your giggling daughter the winner.

++ Boxer!Sukuna is such a successful and feared boxer, always living up to his stage name, The King of Curses. So strong and intelligent, seemingly unbeatable. But the two of you are his big weakness. You brought Sukuna to his knees, and he loves every second of it.

Boxer!Sukuna never thought he would be a dad, but now that he is one, he can't even imagine how life was before the three of you became a family. His little family will always be his safe haven. His retreat after all the exhausting time in the boxing ring and in front of all those flashing cameras. This here is truly all he needs. His two girls. The two loves of his life. No matter how many titles Sukuna wins, the titles he will always be the most proud of are husband and daddy.

IT WAS SO NICE AND COMFORTING TO WRITE THIS 💗💗 He makes me so lovesick!! What a man!!

I hope this little story could give you comfort, too. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[deikshen]

Shen Qingqiu may know a lot about PIDW, monsters, the plot and papapa plot devices, but, traditional ancient music? Are they seriously going to ask him to learn all those old songs in addition to trying to save his ass from a horrible death?

So, in guqin classes with his students, Shen Qingqiu decides that it is not bad to teach them adaptations of modern music. Nothing crazy. Popular stuff, something classic Queen like exaggerations. He doesn't sing in English, but the music has this magnetic thing that can make a few of his disciples hum along, and it feels like they know the lyrics. Shen Qingqiu enjoys it very much.

Luo Binghe is the only one who actually hears him sing it. With English lyrics included. Of course, Luo Binghe has no idea what it means, but that doesn't mean he can't imitate it! So he's singing softly while washing some robes, enjoying Shizun's musical gift to him, when he hears someone stumble.

That someone turns out to be Shang Qinghua, the An Ding Peak Lord, who stands up from the ground with wide eyes. Luo Binghe interrupts his song, looking at him in confusion, when Shang-shishu... run at him?!

"Bro" Shang-shishu says, in a casual and unpleasant manner, with an expression on his face that Luo Binghe had never seen before, "What the fuck. What the fuck. Queen? Somebody to love? Are you kidding me? How did you get the Protagonist!?"

... and Shang Qinghua begins to speak.

Luo Binghe is sixteen years old, and at this point in his life, he is intelligent, manipulative, and able to handle the situations around him with cunning. So, he manages to keep a conversation going with Shang Qinghua by repeating strange words that he doesn't understand the meaning of, letting the man talk and say things like, Transmigrator? System? Username? How many years has he been there? How did he get the "Scum Villain" to treat him well? Is he preparing for the "Endless Abyss"? Since apparently, that thing, System, had told him that it was an "inescapable plot"...

Luo Binghe is evasive. He says he's been there since he was a baby, which turns out to be an appropriate answer. Bit by bit, he says he doesn't have many memories, which Shang Qinghua seems to understand? He says that some memories settle when he reaches adulthood? That this happened to him. He was twenty when he was really able to manage "both lives" in one coherent thing.

Luo Binghe listens, humming in all the right places, being elusive and evasive but Shang Qinghua doesn't even seem to suspect anything. He insists that he should prepare for the Endless Abyss and promises to get him some weapons and talismans that he can hide. He tells him that he hopes "His King" won't make such a fuss without so many monsters.

Finally, the evening falls, Shang Qinghua begs him to please keep seeing each other to talk, he is tired of being alone.

Luo Binghe looks at the wet clothes. He finishes washing and leaves with many things on his mind.

Shang Qinghua recognized him as a "Transmigrator", whatever that was, from the song. The song his Shizun had taught him. He had asked him how long he had been here. At first, the question hadn't made much sense, but looking back, recalling Shizun's complete change in temperament and personality... Luo Binghe can get an idea of how long Shizun has been there.

Besides, what was all that about "Protagonist"? Luo Binghe is not an epic hero blessed by the gods, and he doesn't have the abilities to be classified as one. Or does he?

That night, he makes an impeccable dinner. He makes sure to present all of Shizun's favorite foods, favorite tea, and favorite scented candles. A treat for the senses. When he sees his Shizun start eating, he just smiles sweetly before:

"Shizun, this humble disciple has a question about the future."

"Mnh, this Master listens."

"Why must this disciple fall into the Endless Abyss as an inevitable plot? Is there no way the System will allow this disciple to stay with his Shizun, or is this an unavoidable fate because this humble one is the Protagonist?"

The chopsticks fall from Shizun's hand. The expression on his face is one of the deepest horror.

"Binghe, what...?"

And his Shizun looks in all directions. He seems to be searching for something that isn't there. The "System", perhaps? Whatever that is, Binghe has never seen or felt it. And, at that moment, his Shizun doesn't seem to see it either. Or, he sees it, but what he sees seems not to be a response of cosmic horror. What he sees makes his Shizun's countenance turn peaceful. After terror and tension, his shoulders relax.

"First, Binghe has to tell me where he got all that... information" begins his Shizun. Binghe nods quickly; he won't have any problems with exposing Shang-shishu if necessary. He has no loyalty to him, not like he does to his Shizun. "Very good. Binghe, sit next to me and pour us some more tea. This is going to be a long conversation."

And it definitely was.

[dannyriccsystem]

i love your oscar fic!! we need more. what about oscar dating fernando alonso's daughter and him finding out and being every supportive, meanwhile the whole grid is teasing them

GOT A LITTLE TASTE OF YOUR LOVE THE OTHER DAY!

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

Summary: Oscar Piastri dating Alonso’s daughter… You!

Warnings: Y/N usage, slightly broken Spanish (been a few years I’m rusty), PAPA FERNANDO

Featuring: Oscar Piastri x Alonso!Reader

SO MANY OSCAR REQUESTS expect so much more for him soon! I love Oscar this is perfect

y/n.alonso

liked by fernandoalo_oficial and others

y/n.alonso My summer break 🫶 Ft. Mi gente favorita 😙❤️

tagged friend.user1, friend.user2, fernandoalo_oficial

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username1 - Prettiest girl ever

♥︎ by author

friend.user1 - Beautiful girl ❤️ Te amo 😍

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - stoopp you’re beautiful

fernandoalo_oficial - Mi pequeña niña ❤️ All grown up

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - te amo papa 🥹

username2 - IS THAT A MAN IN THE LAST SLIDE

username3 - QUICK. EVERYONE ANALYZE THAT JAWLINE RIGHT NOW.

> username4 - COMPARE IT TO EVERYONE SHE FOLLOWS

> username5 - WE MUST PROTECT HER 🫡

username6 - These comments are crazy 😭

friend.user2 - Best summer ever ☺️ Such a joy

♥︎ by author

lance_stroll - 👍

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - Thanks Lance very cool

> username7 - IS IT HIM?

> username8 - girl 💀

oscarpiastri

liked by y/n.alonso and others

oscarpiastri Nice break 👍 Time to get back into the swing of things. 🏎️

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username9 - Getting major boyfriend energy here

username10 - Let’s go Osc!! 🧡 Papaya boys got this

lando - Mate hired a professional photographer 😂

♥︎ by author

username11 - no because seriously who is taking his photos for him

opeightyone - Back on track🔥🙌

♥︎ by author

lnfour - Let’s aim for P2 (Gotta save P1 for the best 😉)

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - FERNANDO ALONSO P1!!🗣️🔥

♥︎ by author

> username12 - rare Y/N sighting…

> oscarpiastri - He may be young but he’s done it 🔥

username13 - Y/N and Oscar. The duo we didn’t know we needed

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by y/n.alonso and others

fernandoalo_oficial Mi princesita 😂 Still just as bossy

tagged y/n.alonso

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username14 - I live for Nando dad content

y/n.alonso - Stop this made me cry 🥹 I love you papa thank you for everything

♥︎ by author

oscarpiastri - What a queen

username15 - ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE AHA

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opeightyone - Admin’s fav girl 🫶

username16 - I feel like I’m being left out on a big inside jokes

> username17 - No real

Summer break for Formula One drivers had officially ended, landing them back in the competition for the Dutch grand prix. All the way over in Zandvoort.

You and Oscar were making your couple’s debut amongst the rest of the grid, excluding your father. You both had to calmly sit him down over dinner and explain that you were in love, and nothing would change that. Despite how protective he had been in the past, Papa Nando seemed to take the news quite well.

“Well, there were worse options. Could have been Lando,” you remember him saying as he patted your boyfriend on the back, who seemed gobsmacked at the polite reaction to such big news. The older gentleman offered him a hug, which settled their newfound father-son dynamic.

It was always interesting to see your father and your boyfriend interact, on or off the track. They seemed so unlike, but their chemistry balanced out nicely. Fernando always teased your boyfriend, making comments such as “I started racing before you were even born” and “you’re so young, I can’t believe you’re dating my daughter!” despite the fact you were only a few months older than Oscar.

You stepped into the paddock holding his hand, feeling oddly nervous. It shouldn’t have mattered since only the most important people in your life knew— That being Oscar and Fernando, although you were pretty sure Lando and Lance figured it out as well— but it was always a strange feeling to make your relationship public.

A chill ran down your spine when you heard someone call out, “Y/N!” Oscar’s hands squeezed yours reassuringly as you turned around to see Lewis rolling towards you on his scooter. He had his bright Ferrari red kit on, with a pair of sunglasses and a hat to pull the look together. “Are you here with your d…” His eyes trailed down, and he paused knowingly. “Oscar!” He cheered, clapping him on the shoulder aggressively. Your boyfriend flinched, a grimace of a smile popping up. “Moving up in life! Congrats.”

“Thank you, Lewis.” You answered for him. “But no, I haven’t seen my dad. Check his garage.” He nodded, giving you both one last glance over before rolling off again. “Charming as ever,” You reply teasingly.

“Yeah. Charming…”

The teasing didn’t end there. Being Fernando’s daughter meant a lot of these guys watched you grow up. You were there running around the tracks while some of them were in their rookie years— For anyone wanting to become a dad themself, you were probably good practice.

After Lewis came Max, who just made a few jokes about Fernando targeting him on the track now. Then came George, who went on a whole rant about how the fans would react, but ended it with a congratulations. Next was Leclerc, and then Sainz, and then Albon… It was driver after driver leaving a little teasing remark.

By the end, you were getting a bit tired of it. Not angry or upset, just… Feeling like you had to force a laugh with every joke that was said. When it seemed like they all had their share with poking fun, the both of you were sitting in Oscar’s driving room.

You watched him organize some of his stuff for the weekend quietly. Finally, he broke the silence when he came to kiss your scalp, “Well, we never have to do that again at least.”

Yeah, no. The teasing didn’t stop there.

y/n.alonso

liked by oscarpiastri and others

y/n.alonso My boyfriend makes the same face all the time. 🙂

tagged oscarpiastri

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username18 - SORRY??? boyfriend?! like. BOYFRIEND?

username19 - She knew what the people wanted when she posted these

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y/n.alonso - how much am I being paid

> oscarpiastri - My love is payment enough?

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> y/n.alonso - Sigh. I guess

fernandoalo.oficial - Nice kid 😀

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y/n.alonso - Gracias papa 😇☺️🫶

username20 - PAPA NANDO APPROVES

username21 - HARD LAUNCH ERA!!

oscarpiastri - 🙂

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y/n.alonso - Wouldn’t have you any other way 🙂

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter one ♡

Summary: It’s Joel’s birthday. As usual, you and Sarah are getting everything ready to celebrate, just like you have for years. However, while preparing dinner before Joel gets home from work, Sarah tells you that her dad has been seeing a mysterious woman for the past couple of weeks. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he’s been deliberately hiding it from you, even going out of his way to lie about it.

Though you try to keep your anger in check to avoid ruining his birthday, your emotions get the better of you later that night when it’s just the two of you. Joel doesn’t hold back either, sparking a heated argument that pushes you both further than ever before.

Word count: 9.4K

A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!

If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.

You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.

"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.

She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."

"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.

She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."

And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.

He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”

“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”

He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”

You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.

“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”

“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”

Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”

“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”

“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”

“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”

A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."

You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”

He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.

“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.

You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.

You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.

“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”

It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.

Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.

Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.

It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.

You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.

“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.

She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.

“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.

Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”

She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”

“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.

When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.

“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.

He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.

“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.

His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.

That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.

It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”

Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.

One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.

“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.

You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.

"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.

“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.

“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”

Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.

“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”

Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.

In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.

Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”

You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.

“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.

“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"

You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.

“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.

Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.

“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”

*

Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.

“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”

He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.

“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”

The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.

You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.

After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.

Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.

“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.

Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.

He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.

Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.

Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.

Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.

He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.

“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”

“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.

You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.

“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.

“How much did you pay for this?”

“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”

“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”

You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.

“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”

“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.

“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”

Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.

“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.

Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.

“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.

Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.

When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”

“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”

But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.

Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?

You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.

You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”

Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”

Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.

You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.

“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.

“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”

“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”

He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.

“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.

You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“So, what did you do last night?”

He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”

You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.

Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.

Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not. 

It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.

“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”

He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.

After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”

The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.

“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”

Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”

“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.

“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”

Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.

“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”

You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.

After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.

“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.

“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”

He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”

And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.

“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”

He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”

“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”

He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.

“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.

His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”

Jealous. He thought you were jealous.

He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.

But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.

Honestly, he could go fuck himself.

Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.

“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.

You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.

“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.

He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”

“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”

He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”

Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”

Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.

Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.

You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”

“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”

“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.

Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.

“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”

“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”

He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.

“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”

“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”

Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.

His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”

“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.

He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”

“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.

The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.

“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”

Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.

But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.

Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”

His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.

“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.

But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”

You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.

His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.

“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.

The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.

But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.

With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.

He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.

Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.

Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.

You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all. 

No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.

You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness. 

His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.

In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.

You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.

“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.

“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.

His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.

His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.

His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.

He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.

Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.

“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.

He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.

He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.

“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.

His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”

You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.

“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.

From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.

Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.

You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.

His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.

With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.

He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.

Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.

Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form. 

There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.

With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.

“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."

You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.

The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.

His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him. 

You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him. 

“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.

A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.

Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure. 

A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.

You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.

And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?

“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”

You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.

His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.

Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.

He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.

He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...

No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.

When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.

Joel was gone.

taglist: @orcasoul

[suiana]

reincarnated! yandere x reincarnated! reader soulmates trope BUT instead of both of you remembering the past or vice versa... only ONE of you does.

so maybe in your very first lives, you two truly loved each other and promised to be together forever or something blah blah #soulmates. but by some weird twist of fate, you ended up reincarnating and that's when shit all went down. your lover went crazy while reincarnating, causing his once pure love to turn an ugly, obsessive shade.

it can go both ways. if you're the one who remembers, you can use the information to your advantage and attempt to change your destined fate that is to end up with him.

it's only a life full of anxiety and worry though, because no matter how hard you try, you can't change what is destined and eventually you'll lose all hope. in this life or the next, you'll never be rid of him. after all, you two are destined to be together. soulmates, am i right?

because you'll always be his, whether you like it or not.

however...

if he is the one with retained memories, you can best be sure that your life will be nothing but misery. well, maybe nothing BUT misery. but some misery, definitely.

he'll be clowning you, using the information that he already knows to stalk you, obsess over you, hell, literally just pine after you. if you thought he was crazy in this life, try seeing how crazy he is after having the memories of all his past lives. he'll be a mad man.

the worst part of it all is that he's smart. smart and a sadist. he's constantly trying new ways to find his beloved, trying new ways to stalk you, to scare you, to love you. oh, your previous reincarnation hated nonchalance? well he's going to be full on drama king then, wearing his heart on his sleeve and clinging to you.

in this life, well, he's decided that he wants to play the innocent guy, the guy who's for some reason, really clingy and doesn't seem to grasp the basic concept of personal space. cute enough, yeah?

well lucky for him, and unlucky for you, you're exactly like how he remembers you in his memories. gullible, naive, unsuspecting.

you're too good for the world, he thinks. but hey, it's playing into his favour so he'll take it. he'll enter your life like it's nothing and stay there.

and he has no plans on leaving once he enters, your personal parasite❤️

and then... he thinks he'll settle for subtle manipulation. he'll tell you lies and rumours (that he may or may not have not made up...) about people he deem a threat, gaslight you into thinking he's the only one you need, keeping you away from others using some tips he learned from his previous self (really helpful btw). no need to get his hands dirty. he doesn't want to scare you. much.

oh? you want to leave? by the time you notice something's wrong, it's too late. you have no one now. you couldn't even leave even if you wanted to.

lonely, lonely,

so lonely.

poor you. how sad, truly. but hey! don't worry, you still have him, don't you? your beloved one, the one who never left your side even when everyone else did, the one who's a constant in your life in the sea of uncertainties.

him.

him, him, him.

scared? don't be! he just wants to love you. you love him too, don't you? of course you do! you've loved him all those years ago, surely you'll love him now too. you have to. he doesn't like people who break their promises. and hey, if he messes up in this life, he'll always have the next, and the next, and the next few... hey, he'll have forever to get you to love him! haha, isn't that great? to forever and ever huh?

you're never escaping him.

because he'll always be yours, whether you like it or not.

[orphicsun]

CAMGIRL ELLIE

Camgirl Ellie AU: Ellie Williams x Fem! reader

Description: Ellie is a broke college student whose options are either selling weed on campus or doing filthy things on live for her mainly female audience. When another famous camgirl joins one of her lives, she is about to have the collab of a lifetime.

Content / Warnings: Femme camgirl reader, headcannon-style fic, explicit content, Jesse and Dina make cameos woah, Ellie is all cute and nervous for the first half, masturbation on camera, fingering & oral sex, use of strap-ons, reader is on receiving end, feminine reader, use of petnames (baby and mamas), breeding kinks, mult. orgasms. Enjoy the ride.

Word Count: 3.3k

★ Camgirl Ellie who is a sophomore in college, so broke and extremely desperate come with the territory. Like, Taco Bell is a luxury broke, and desperate as in she has applied to every job around campus. She even thought about dealing for a while, but as much as she loves a good smoke sesh, she'd rather not risk getting kicked out of school for something as dumb as selling blunts.

★ Camgirl Ellie who laughed when her friend Jesse suggested her being a camgirl.

"Why the fuck would I give old creepy dudes jerk-off material?"

Jesse laughed, grabbing a handful of cheetos from the bag in her hand. "Dude, you wouldn't be doing it for men. I mean, look at you." Jesse took a good, hard look at his friend; the several silver rings across her five fingers, a short-sleeve blue button up layered over a white wife-pleaser, and for god's sake, a pair of jorts that only Ellie could pull off. "You're clearly not for the male gaze."

After much (15 minutes) contemplation, she decided that maybe it'd be fun to get attention from girls and money at the same time.

★ Camgirl Ellie who is actually rather awkward and quiet around girls in the real world, cursing "fuck" under her breath when she sees a pretty girl but just doesn't know how to impress women in a way that doesn't come off as too forward or weird. That being said, she actually likes having a persona online where she can say anything she wants, and she definitely abuses the fact that she is allowed to say anything she truly feels like saying, and women will go crazy for it.

Sitting on her couch, propping up her iphone 11 on the coffee table with a pop socket she got like, 6 years ago so that the fans have a wonderful view of her stroking a strap-on with cheap lube she picked up from her local Walmart. Her bush is slightly peeking out from the harness, and the fans are getting filthy. Not as filthy as camgirl Ellie, though.

"Fuck, feels so good on my clit.." she groans, throwing her head back dramatically.

dykeluvr69 commented: oh my god y'all her happy trail i'm throbbing

wet4williams commented: i wish i could ride that strap

andersonsabs33 commented: mid💀

Ellie squints, anticipating all the thirsty comments, and scoffs at one, her hand jerking away from the silicone shaft for a moment to tell off some random.

"Suck my dick, andersonabs33."

fairydustonmyclit_2 commented: me next please!!

★ Camgirl Ellie who doesn't always have to be explicit to even get views. She finds that focusing the camera on her fingers while strumming her guitar can work wonders online. If she has had an exhausting day or is feeling anxious about getting naked in front of an overwhelmingly growing audience, she can always just show off her hands or say sweet things to her fans.

★ Camgirl Ellie who is not a virgin. She's had a few past girlfriends, no casual sex, but is pretty experienced from her long-term relationships. That being said, she never once has considered doing actual sex on camera for money. That changes when another famous (and nearby) camgirl joins her livestream.

Ellie's once again on her couch, two fingers doing figure eights on her clit as the view count rises. She's basically man-spreading to give her girls the best view possible, and not holding back from letting out breathy little groans and loud curses. Her fans go crazy when she has her tits out, so her sports bra is hitched up, her perky tits free and her nipples stiff.

"F-Feels so good, holy shit, wanna cum for my girls so bad," she groans, closing her eyes. Ellie doesn't view real masturbation as anything like her online work; if she were actually to be playing with her pussy all alone with no audience, she'd cum by now. But that doesn't make a profit, no. Longer time is important, and the more she ups the antics, teases her fans, the more comments can come in. The more donations arise and all that good shit.

Ellie teases her entrance with her middle finger, and her eyes flutter open as she eases the digit past her puffy folds.

She reads through the chat to hold out from cumming too quickly.

elliessluttygirl commented: i wish that was my hand playing w ur pussy ellie:(

Ellie smiles, curling her finger and moaning. She smiles lazily. "Yeah, slutty girl..wish it was yours, too."

As she adds a second finger upon the majority request in her comment section, she pauses at the feed.

urfavfemme has joined the livestream. Say hi!

Holy fuck. Ellie hasn't seen your videos, but the pink checkmark on your name means you're verified. Suddenly, Ellie is nervous as hell now. How is she supposed to act now, with some famous, probably fine woman watching her? She swallows and continues bucking up into her palm, but her fingers are slightly shaky now.

urfavfemme commented: ur pussy is so pretty.

Ellie laughs nervously at that. What the fuck is happening? But maybe she can use the situation to her advantage.

" 'urfavfemme', huh? Cute username," she coos, a little breathlessly because now she's getting closer to cumming, her nerves dying down as her fingers massage her sensitive walls. Ellie is so fucked up, she thinks to herself. She doesn't even know what you look like yet, why is she getting so crazed by you complimenting her?

urfavfemme commented: i wanna see that pretty pussy squirt please..

Ellie moans and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. She gets dozens of comments just like these, thirsty ass girls drooling to her playing with herself or showing off a strap-on. Why is it that the idea of you, a self-proclaimed 'femme' making these comments is the thing that makes her belly all hot with the familiar ache of true need?

pixiestickpussy commented: holy shit this is so hot

wet4williams commented: is it just me or is smth going on with ellie and this camgirl chick

imonherefortheporn69 commented: i checked out the girl's content she's super hot dude

Ellie's head is spinning at the whole situation. It's overwhelming and she wants to just turn off the camera, but she's so close and getting desperate to cum. It is just so fucking hard when all of her girls are in an uproar over you.

urfavfemme commented: stretch me out on those fingers.

"Oh- Oh, my fucking god!! 'm cumming-" Ellie can barely keep herself from crying out as the waves shoot through her body throughout, a finger covering her clit to extend the orgasm that hits her so deeply. Her fingers are soaked more than usual, juices trickling down her knuckles. Her other palm is massaging over her tits, and for a moment, she forgets she is on camera. Forgets the thousands of people watching her, probably fingering themselves just like her. The though that is usually so overwhelming is forgotten.

Her body is warm, and if she could describe how this nut feels right about now, she'd say it's hot pink. It's light lightning, and for some reason, all she can repeat in her head is "thank you thank you thank you urfavfemme" because seriously, this has been one of the most insane experiences of her life. When she finally comes down, she has to take a few moments to catch her breath.

The aftermath of it all hits her. She did not just cum like she does in private. The usually dramatic orgasms the viewers got are nothing like that, and for what? Some girl she hasn't even seen yet?

The comments are going off, praising her and thirsting like she's never seen before, but she is still panting and flushed on her couch.

urfavfemme has donated $1000.

urfavfemme has left the livestream. Bye!

Ellie is quickly turning off the stream with a half-assed goodbye, and collapsing back onto her couch. She cannot believe that she just lost control like that. Her mind is processing the huge donation, too. A whole thousand is more than she's ever gotten in donations on a single live. How famous are you?

Ellie can't dwell much, because as her body cools down, she realizes how soaked the towel she is sitting on is. Oh, my god. She actually squirted on live.

★ Camgirl Ellie who searches up your username on google a few days following the squirting contest incident, and is soon brought to a url that hits her like a flashbang as soon as it loads on her ancient ass laptop. Her screen is covered in pink, and a pretty white font with your username is front and center. She then sees your face and nearly nuts. You're fucking gorgeous, definitely out of her league.. How are you the same girl that talked her through an intense orgasm over a livestream the other night?

★ Camgirl Ellie who spends the next few hours watching your videos. She has found a new obsession, that's for sure.

She has hearts in her eyes watching you bounce on a fairly-sized dildo suctioned to your floor, helplessly groaning with a hand down her basketball shorts as your pussy swallows the length of the toy. Your moans are what really gets her. You sound like anything but the pornstars she's heard, instead moaning like you're really getting it. And suddenly, Ellie wants to be the one to give it to you.

★ Camgirl Ellie who types out various messages to send to your gmail so conveniently linked on your website until she finally settles on something not too awkward

To: urfavfemme@gmail.com

From: elliewilliams19@gmail.com

Subject: Collab? Dear urfavfemme,

You were in my livestream the other day. I'm Ellie from the camgirl website, and I wanna know if you'd like to collab? (If you're around my area, of course).

Reading it back after she sent it, she sighs. That looks way too fucking professional for a request to do porn together.

★ Camgirl Ellie who anxiously waits for about an hour, not even Borderlands 3 able to distract her before she finally gets an email back.

To: elliewilliams19@gmail.com

From: urfavfemme@gmail.com

Subject: Collab?

Hi!! I'm in Fairview, WY if you're near? I'd love to collab:)

★ Ellie, who is freaking the fuck out now. She hadn't had sex in two years since Dina traumatized her with the worst break-up possible, and you're one of the hottest girls she's ever seen. Plus, she is only an hour away from you.

Jesse laughs when she rants to him about the whole thing.

"So you've got a fine ass girl offering to have sex with you? What's the problem?"

Ellie scoffs and gives him a glare, but there isn't any true malice. "That's the problem, idiot! She is way hotter than me. Plus, I haven't even had any practice in so long. What if I can't make her cum? What if I embarrass myself on live in front of both of our fan-"

"C'mon man, you gotta get out of your head about this. Does she seem nice?"

Ellie nods.

Jesse sighs, and slightly softens his tough-love look. "Look, she is probably just as nervous as you are. Give yourself a break, and go have fun with the pretty femme girl."

★ Camgirl Ellie who shows up at your apartment a little earlier than she meant to. She didn't mean to speed, but she was nervous on the road, anxiously tapping the steering wheel.

★ Camgirl Ellie who is greeted by you in a robe and what she assumes is going to be either nothing or lingerie underneath. That makes her heart beat even faster. She feels like she's gonna puke from how nervous she is, you're even more gorgeous up close.

★ Camgirl Ellie who takes in your bedroom compared to her own small apartment's bedroom. You've got posters covering your walls of various artists like PinkPantheress and Joan Jett and the Blackhearts; your bedsheets match your whole feminine vibe, and you have a whole camera set up with a stand. There's a box with a harness and different sizes of dildos inside of it. All of this is making Ellie even more nervous, like, shit her pants nervous.

You seem to take notice of her nerves, because you have clear concern on your face as you guide her to sit on your bed.

"You okay, Ellie?" voice so sweet and soothing, it could make her heart stop.

"Yeah..I'm okay.." she sighs, and anxiously chews on her lip, "I'm just like, me.. and you're super hot and all-"

Ellie's self-doubt is choked off when you cup her face, leaning in. "Do you know why I donated?"

"Why?" Ellie sounds shaky, a little confused on where this is going.

You give her a sweet smile, your glossy lips catching the ceiling light. You lean in even closer so that you can speak quietly, intimately. "I thought that you were easily one of the hottest camgirls I've ever seen on the website."

Ellie's eyebrows shoot up at that. "No fuckin' way you think that.."

Your smile doesn't falter, and you lean in even closer. "I do. I want you to fuck me, Ellie."

★ Camgirl Ellie who didn't know how passionately one could eat a pussy until she got a taste of yours. With the camera all set up and the live on, viewers roll in quickly at the promise of a collab between their two favorite lesbian camgirls. Ellie never forgot about the camera when it came to her solo steams, but you just have an effect on her that makes her head dizzy and her pussy throb, and all of a sudden she has her tongue deep in your wet pussy, alternating between tonguing your hole and tasting your clit. You're sprawled out on your bed, completely naked with Ellie between your thighs, and your moans are even louder than usual. They're angelic sounds that make the comments roll in like crazy.

dykeluvr69 commented: ellie eats pussy like a madman and i am so jealous rn

andersonabs33 commented: she's too sloppy with it, slow tf down girl.

This time, Ellie is far too blissed out devouring you to even pull away and tell the troll to fuck off.

"Mmmph, pussy tastes so fuckin' good.." You can't make out her muffled declaration, but the vibrations on your clit have you creaming for her.

Your pussy just sings for her. Three orgasms in, and she hasn't even used the strap she's wearing yet. She wants to savor every soft whimper you make when she nibbles on your neck before making out with you, tongue shoving into your mouth so that you can take your own perfect pussy on her tongue.

★ Camgirl Ellie whose fingers curl inside of you relentlessly, pumping into you, coaxing out orgasms like it's nothing. To her though, it is truly everything. You cry like you're pleading for her to never stop. It feels like hours that she's been tending to the perfect cunt you've got between your legs, and she doesn't know where she even learned half of the shit she's done. It isn't too hard to please you when she craves your sounds, though. She craves the feeling of your thighs squeezing the apples of her cheeks, making her lightheaded.

★ Camgirl Ellie who saves best for last, finally rubbing girthy silicone against your clit, making you whine in the process. That sound goes straight to her clit.

She grins with a newfound confidence, one she think that she has been given from a witchy ritual or something, not lesbian camgirl sex.

"You want me to fuck you good, baby? Fuck you 'till you squirt on my dick like you made me squirt?"

"Please, fuck, Ellie..." You're babbling nonsense at this point, legs spread wide and knees almost to your ears at you nearly sob for her dick.

"C'mon mamas, I wanna hear you beg for me." She taps the tip against your clit repeatedly, holding you down by the back your thighs to keep you from trying to squirm for more.

"Please, Ellie!! Fuck me, make me cum. I want your dick."

Ellie groans as she finally parts your soaked folds with the tip, sinking into your heat slowly as to not hurt you, but she soon finds that your walls are just swallowing her completely. All that foreplay must've really paid off.

★ Camgirl Ellie who practically goes from a nervous wreck to a pornstar in a matter of minutes, because she insists that she can feel how tight you are around her huge dick.

"Fuck, baby. Gonna fuck this pussy so good, gonna make you scream my name." She manhandles your legs around her waist so that she can hold your hips while she pounds into you, creating a whole bonfire of heat in your pussy.

"Feel you so deep in me, Ellie!" You almost break when she starts leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"Yeah? Gonna make you feel me in your tummy, mamas. Gonna put a baby in you." Where in the hell did that come from? You both roll with it, if not getting even more riled up by the idea of Ellie cumming in you and knocking you up.

"Please, Ellie. 'm g-gonna cum for you-" before you can finally have your orgasm, it's ripped away as she pulls out of you. You can't even protest or make a loud whine before Ellie is flipping you onto your stomach, frantic to tuck one of your pink pillows underneath your tummy. She lines back up with your sloppy hole, slamming back into it to earn herself an actual sob from you.

You cry into the pillow, not from pain at all. No, this is probably one of the best fucks you've ever had in your life. Ellie doesn't start slow again but rather pistons her hips into yours, bony hips slamming into the fat of your ass upon each thrust until you finally get the intense orgasm you need.

"Pleaseknockmeup-" you cum with a broken cry, a couple euphoric tears streaming down your face. Your poor bedsheets, all soaked from you and Ellie's pussies and your tears. At this angle with the pillow raising you, you believe you can truly feel Ellie all up in your stomach. The waves are more like knots of a rope being snapped in half deep inside of you, and Ellie only keeps you riding the pleasure with her little sloppy grunts audible behind you.

Ellie groans as the friction to her own clit is vastly more intense with each grind to meet your body, and now she is humping your ass to get herself off. After she cums with a "gonna fucking cum in this pussy", she goes limp on top of you, her sweaty body covering yours, her tits pressed against your back in a way that is more comforting than arousing now.

★ Camgirl Ellie and you who entirely forget about the live and fall asleep in your bed together, snuggled up with you the big spoon, and the cum-coated strap on thrown somewhere across the room. Your bodies are flush against each other and your hands are wrapped around Ellie’s stomach, holding her closely.

fairydustonmyclit_2 commented: aw this is actually kind of cute

pixiestickpussy commented: i wanna be sandwiched between them wtf

limpbizkitsbitch commented: ts gonna be awkward when they wake up

andersonabs33: quit being a miserable bitch

limpbizkitsbitch: ironic coming from you🌝

andersonabs33 has left the live. Bye!

[forever-rogue]

I don't know if this is a silly idea so if it is I apologize!

But could you write something where Tommy and the reader were seeing each other in Austin but with all the commotion they didn't have time to look for each other when they were fleeing so they both moved on thinking the other one was killed, but the reader suddenly ends up in Jackson and they get to reunite

AN | Ahh, this has been in my drafts for so long! Reminder that I am also a Tommy Miller enthusiast. I love this concept and I hope you do too 🥰 

Pairing | Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How much longer is it until we’re there?” you were whining, and you knew it. But quite honestly, you didn’t care. You were cold, tired, and hungry, and your feet were killing you. Ellie looked at you and snickered softly; she was young and spritely, everything seemed easy for her. 

“Not much longer if you’d stop your whining,” Joel turned back to you as you gave him an indignant little huff. You knew he was teasing; the two of you butted heads a lot but there was nothing but affection behind it all, “think you can manage?”

“I guess,” you waved him off and fell into step with Ellie, “you know, this place better be worth it.”

“It will be,” he promised and you wanted to believe him. You hoped he was right…things had been hard the last few months and honestly, you really just wanted a nice long break, “trust me.”

“The last time I trusted you, Joel, I ended up on this crazy journey with you and the kid,” you snorted in amusement as the two of them stared at you in surprise, “and - and - I wouldn’t change it for the world. So calm down and stop glaring daggers at me.”

“You know-” but Joel was quickly cut off by the sound of hooves, shouts, and barks. This definitely wasn’t good. 

You exchanged a look with Joel and the two of you surrounded Ellie to make sure she was as hidden as possible. It really was no use because the three of you were as exposed as could be. 

Fuck. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So…many things didn’t turn out as badly as they could have. In fact, it seemed like it really just turned into…the best possible situation. 

You’d not only found your way to Jackson, which already just from the outside was a lot to take in, but Joel had managed to find his brother. It was a shock on both ends but, you realized, life had been a lot like that lately. 

For the first time in a long time, you even allowed yourself to believe that things might actually work out. Hope. It was an odd thing really. 

But it was Joel’s shout that started you out of your little daydream fantasy. You almost slipped off the horse at the sudden shift of him yelling, "Tommy!"

You exchanged a look with Ellie before turning to look in the direction that Joel was currently running to. He'd almost jumped off his horse and was taking off in the direction of another dark haired man. How very curious.

The party came to a stop and the two of you got off your own horses before hesitantly walking over. It appeared that the two brothers had really missed each other. 

Joel let go of the younger man and turned to the two of you with a beaming smile, "this is my younger brother, Tommy."

You turned to the raven-haired man, ready to introduce yourself to him when everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Time stood still as you realized that you too knew Tommy - at least once upon a lifetime ago you had.

He must have realized at the same time as you had because all he could do was silently look at you in awe. You weren't even sure how to really respond - you hadn't seen him in twenty years. Yet here he was, right as rain and the same as ever.

"Tommy?" You asked softly as he nodded, repeating your name just as quietly. Confusion marred Ellie and Joel's faces, unsure of what was going on, "oh my god."

He hesitated for a moment before holding his arms out and pulling into a hug. A sound somewhere between a sob and laugh escaped your lips as you hugged him back with just as excitement.

You had been sure you'd never see him again. You'd made peace with the fact that the love of your life was dead. 

And yet…there he was. Alive and well. Your Tommy.

When you reluctantly pulled apart, he cradled your face in his hands, tenderly brushing away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It still felt so unreal, like a wild day dream.

"Does anyone want to explain what's going on here?" Ellie decided to cut through the tender moment and Joel groaned slightly. He was such a dad sometimes, despite what he insisted. 

"Ellie."

"It's okay," you promised, "Tommy and I…we used to…we were dating. Back…you know."

"Before," he finished for you, catching your eye and offering a shy smile, "before everything fell apart."

"Wait…" Joel looked between the two of you, pointing at each of you in turn. He repeated your name and realization dawned on him, "its you? All this time…shit-"

"Language!"

"You've been Tommy's girl?" He was more incredulous than either of you, "how did I never…realize?"

"To be fair, I haven't been anyone's girl in a long time," you stared at your feet, trying not to focus too much on the fact that everyone was staring at you, "and I didn't put two and two together to realize you were his brother. So."

"So," Tommy echoed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Neither of you were quite sure what to say; you never thought you'd been in this position again, "why, ugh, why don't we get you guys settled in? Seems like you might be staying a while."

"Great!" Ellie was able to cut through any of the tension as she stepped between you and Tommy, grabbing hold of his arm. You breathed a small sigh of relief; things had quickly gotten to a point where you didn't know what to even think.

Joel quirked an eyebrow at you but remained silent otherwise. The look was never enough to kill you; damn these Miller brothers. You huffed, "don't say a word, Joel."

He held up his hands in mock surrender as you huffed and followed after Ellie and Tommy.

Well. This day had definitely not gone according to plan. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that initial afternoon of introductions and reunions, you managed to avoid Tommy for a few days. It wasn't too hard in Jackson; there were way more people than you had initially imagined. It felt so strange, but wonderful, to be somewhere that felt…normal again. Between that and Tommy, it almost seemed like things really were almost like they had been all those years ago.

"Hey there," his soft voice cut through your thoughts as you turned your gaze away from the softly falling snow and onto him. You stiffened for a moment before smiling at him.

"Hey Tommy," you moved over on the bench and brushed off the powdery fluff. He beamed at the silent invitation and sat down next to you, leaving just enough of a gap between your bodies.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again," you could hear the teasing lilt in his voice, "I was almost sure you'd been avoiding me."

"I-I wasn't…avoiding you," it was a lie and you both knew it. Tommy laughed, and you realized just how much you loved his laugh. It had always been one of your favorite things. 

"You've always been a horrible liar," he gently nudged your knee with his and you couldn't help the shy smile that bubbled up, "I guess time doesn't change everything."

"I guess not," your stomach churned with a plethora of emotions. Everything all at once. 

"How'd you end up with my brother?" his cheeks flushed and not just from the cold. It took a moment till you caught on and you almost laughed.

"I'm, ugh, I'm not with Joel," you promised and his shoulders visibly relaxed, "we're just friends. Trust me, I'm not - I'm definitely not - interested in him."

"Oh," you peeked over to see the smile on his face grow, "okay, that's umm, yeah. Good. And you've, ugh, never-"

"No," a shiver ran down your spine as you cut him off. Sure, Joel was handsome but you were definitely not into him, "and no thank you."

"Cool," a silence fell over the two of you, neither awkward or completely still.

"What about you and Maria?" Yeah. You were curious too.

"We…we were together for a while," he confessed and you hated how it made your stomach twist and turn. It wasn't your place to be jealous but…you were feeling particularly green, "but it didn't work out. So we're just friends."

"Well, that's good that you're still friends," and your insides were jumping around happily.

"Mhmm," he hummed in agreement before it grew quiet again. You could practically hear Ellie screaming in your ear to make a move. Lord knows that she was absolutely wanting to see the two of you get tougher again. It would be just like a movie she'd sighed dreamily.

You shifted and angled your body so you were facing him and found that he was watching you intently. You opened and closed your mouth a few times and yet somehow he knew exactly what you were thinking. Tommy leaned in and put his hand on your cheek, hesitating for just a moment to search your eyes for permission before kissing you. 

And suddenly it felt like you'd never stopped kissing him. It all felt so familiar and so…right that you thought you'd never want to forget this again. Tommy Miller always kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he pulled away, and for all you knew he could have been kissing for seconds or hours or minutes, you made a small sound of disappointment.

"I know," there was nothing but affectionate teasing behind his voice, "but if I keep kissing you, I might sink and drown, and die. Give a man a second."

"Was it that bad?" Your eyes widened with worry but the man shook his head.

"The opposite," he grinned, "I just needed a moment so I don't get too crazy for you. It's always been hard."

"Oh," alright, that was a way better answer than you'd hoped for, "I've missed that too. Honestly, I've missed you. A lot…but I feel like that's really obvious to say."

"Not a day passed when I didn't think of you," he admitted shyly, "even if it was just  for a moment, but you were still there in my mind. Like it was yesterday."

"Well, I'm sure the reality," you pointed at yourself, "is disappointing compared to the memory."

"That's where you're wrong," he scoffed as though you must have been blind, "you're just as beautiful now as the day I met you."

"Tommy-"

"I mean it," he put his hand on top of yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I've dreamed about this day so many times. I never thought…that I would actually get the chance to see you again."

"Me neither," you really wanted to wrap yourself up in him, "I'm just afraid you're not going to like this version of me. What if I'm not like you remember?"

"None of us are the same, sweetheart," he insisted softly, "we've all been through so much shit. But deep down we're all the people we once were."

"You think so?" You could feel the tears welling up already, "I mean, I'm just assuming you'd want to even…try again. You know what, forget I said anything - you don't want-"

"I do," he quickly cut off any of your negative thoughts, "I really do. You think I'd give up this second chance with my dream girl?"

"Dream girl?" and oh. The way you were looking at him made him want to melt, "I'm your dream girl?"

"You always have been and always will be," he grew bashful as you looked at him in awe, "and I think we were given this opportunity for a reason. And I know it's scary, but if you're in, I kind of want to try again. Us."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been thinking about it since the moment I saw you," he leaned in and you were so close you could kiss him - and you definitely intended on doing that again, "so I guess it's up to you, sweetheart."

"I'm in," you promised without hesitation, "all in."

"Me too," and then he kissed you again, softly but with so much love, "all in."

[mrspiastri]

✩ first and last 🦢

pairing: lando norris x reader

cw: fluff, first time relationships

wc: 3.6k words

an: thank you to @castofstrangerthings for the req! i couldn’t directly respond to it for some reason so here! also i know you asked for oscar but this just felt so apt for lando i had to!! :p

For Y/N, dating wasn’t really something at the forefront of her mind. After hearing horror stories of all the crazy boyfriends her friends had to endure since middle school, she was more than content remaining celibate.

This continued throughout her schooling days, where she never bothered to start dating. And it was a big help to her cause that no boys ever made a move on her.

It wasn’t that she was unattractive, nor was it her personality. She was well-known throughout her school, and the teachers liked her too. She had a few male friends as well, and while they enjoyed hanging out, she was never asked out by even one of them.

So, she was the butt of her friends' lighthearted jokes about how she was the only one graduating high school without ever having a boyfriend, kissing someone, or even being romantically interested in a man. Hell, she hadn’t even been on a date before!

Y/N much preferred it this way—'more men, more problems' was her belief in life. However, this changed when she went to university.

She and Lando Norris met on the same day of orientation, both eager to join their uni’s debate team. After being seated next to each other for almost an hour during auditions, they were called in to debate each other on the topic of whether the ‘male loneliness epidemic’ was real. Much to her chagrin, Y/N had to argue for the motion.

That very debate was the foundation of their friendship, and now, in junior year, the pair remained closer than ever.

🪻🪻🪻

Being raised in a family with a wonderful mother and two sisters really sets a man up for success in the dating world. Lando was always in demand, his alluring and charming personality combined with his ravishing good looks and mild-mannered ways leading to girls constantly trying their luck with him.

At every party, every ten or so minutes, he was either being snogged by a pretty blonde or comparing hand sizes with a striking brunette.

He always admired Y/N’s commitment to being single, knowing her feelings towards the dating scene in today’s world. And somewhere along the line, his admiration for her changed to awe, and from awe, it evolved into emotions he never thought he’d ever feel for her.

After spending the better half of the past two years stuck by her side, with the third one beginning a few weeks ago, he found himself falling headfirst for Y/N and all her quirks and dynamics.

He had found it very difficult to admit it to himself that he fancied her, but on a random Tuesday morning, as she was wallowing over the waffles running out at breakfast, it hit him like a lightning bolt:

He had the biggest, fattest, most irrepressible crush on his best friend.

He had seen her for the first time when they were just freshly turned 18-year-olds, sniggering over the terrible chairs they had to sit on while waiting their turn for auditions. He was there when she was upset over not being able to sign up for a class she was desperate to take in her first semester.

He giggled while she almost keeled over after taking her first-ever shot of tequila at a sorority party at Kappa Alpha Theta, and he was the one who held her hair up while she threw up into a toilet bowl, rubbing her back soothingly as she moaned over how she would never touch alcohol again.

So how was someone supposed to continue being best friends with the girl he was falling for faster than a meteor hurling through space?

To him, the answer was simple: dropping simple but subtle hints to make his intentions known.

🪻🪻🪻

The hints had started small, but now they were practically glaring neon signs. At least, to everyone except Y/N.

Lando had tried everything to make his feelings clear. He was always touching her, always standing closer than necessary, always finding ways to bring her into his space. He carried her books when she complained they were too heavy, sent her good morning texts every single day, and even learned the complicated coffee order she had been too embarrassed to repeat for him.

But nothing seemed to get through to her. And what made it worse was that everyone around them began noticing the change.

“Okay, but seriously,” her roommate drawled one afternoon as they sat in the campus café. “Are you guys, like, together-together?”

Y/N snorted, picking at her croissant. “What? No.”

Her roommate raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “So you’re telling me your best friend, who, by the way, has turned down every single girl who’s tried to ask him out in the last six months, just happens to buy you coffee every morning, keeps your favorite hoodie in his car in case you get cold, and practically looks like he’s in love every time he stares at you for more than five seconds?”

Lando, sitting beside Y/N, didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed. He just leaned back in his chair, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her flounder for an answer.

“He’s just—” Y/N shook her head, laughing lightly. “That’s just how he is. Lando’s nice to everyone.”

Her friend scoffed. “Yeah, but he’s not doing any of that for me. Or anyone else.”

Lando chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. The gesture was so natural, so casual, that she barely even registered it, except for the way her heart suddenly felt like it was trying to break a world record for fastest beats per minute.

“I mean, I could start buying you coffee every morning,” he mused, tilting his head at the girl in front of them. “But I think Y/N might get jealous.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. “Oh, please.”

But internally? She was spiralling.

Because the idea of Lando doing these things for someone else, buying their favorite drinks, remembering their order, keeping a hoodie for them, made her stomach twist in a way she didn’t want to analyze too closely.

And it wasn’t just her roommate who had questioned them, either. At a party the previous weekend, they had been standing by the drinks table when a guy in their Stats class had wandered over, glancing between them with an appraising look.

“You two are dating, right?” he asked, casually pouring himself a drink.

Y/N choked on her own sip of beer. “What? No.”

He blinked. “Huh. Could’ve fooled me.”

She laughed it off, brushing the idea away as she always did, but Lando, who had been leaning against the table beside her, hand warm on the small of her back, had simply raised an eyebrow, amused.

🪻🪻🪻

Over the course of midterms week, Y/N was seconds away from throwing her laptop out the nearest window and dramatically declaring herself an academic failure.

She had spent hours buried in notes, highlighting until her fingers cramped, and yet nothing was sticking. Her brain was mush. Her body was tense. Her stress levels were at an all-time high.

Meanwhile. Lando, sitting across from her in their usual library spot, looked annoyingly unbothered.

“How are you so calm?” she groaned, dropping her head onto her open textbook.

Lando smirked, stretching his arms behind his head like he wasn’t on the verge of multiple deadlines. “Because one of us needs to be. And let’s be honest, it was never gonna be you.”

She shot him a glare that had absolutely no bite to it. “You’re supposed to be suffering with me.

“I am,” he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I just look better doing it.”

She huffed dramatically, rubbing her temples. “I’m so close to losing my mind.”

That was apparently enough for Lando to intervene. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to her side of the table, nudging her chair back slightly before physically turning it so she was facing him. Before she could protest, he crouched down in front of her, settling his hands on her knees.

Y/N stopped breathing.

“Peach,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over her bare skin. “You need a break.”

Her brain stuttered at the nickname, and she knew exactly what he was referencing. It began in the winter break of freshman year, after a visit to Y/N’s house.

Her mom had been all too eager to embarrass her, flipping through old photo albums until she landed on the picture, one of baby Y/N, no older than two, sitting in a tiny plastic chair in her backyard, absolutely covered in peach juice.

There were peach slices in her chubby fists, sticky residue all over her cheeks, and a look of pure, unfiltered joy on her face as she devoured the fruit like it was the best thing in the world.

Lando had lost it.

“No way,” he had laughed, taking a picture of the photo for future blackmail. “You were a menace.”

“I was a child,” Y/N had huffed, cheeks burning as she tried (and failed) to snatch the album from him.

Her mom had only made it worse, recounting how Y/N had been obsessed with peaches, demanding them at every meal and managing to make a colossal mess every single time.

And that is where ‘Peach’ originated from.

She barely managed to remember that moment, when she felt Lando’s warm hands trailing up and down her thighs, fingers grazing the hem of her shorts.

“I can’t take a break,” she whispered, voice embarrassingly shaky.

“You can,” he said, firm but soft, his grip tightening slightly. “And you will. Because if you stress yourself into a breakdown, who’s gonna remind me when all my assignments are due?”

Y/N would have laughed, if she wasn’t mentally losing it at the way his hands lingered on her thighs, his touch burning and grounding.

“Five minutes,” he coaxed, voice a low hum. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

She swore she blacked out for a moment.

Because what the FUCK?

When did he get so touchy? And why did he have to sound like that? Like he was saying something completely normal but making it sound criminally intimate?

“I…” She swallowed hard, eyes darting anywhere but his face. “I don’t know how to turn my brain off.”

Lando sighed, standing back up—but instead of moving away, he settled behind her chair, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently.

“Then let me do it for you.” And holy shit.

The moment his hands started kneading into her muscles, Y/N melted.

His thumbs dug into the tense spots at the base of her neck, slow and deliberate, like he was unraveling her stress with his hands alone. His fingers pressed into the tight knots in her shoulders, rubbing small, soothing circles that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Fuck,” she muttered, eyes fluttering shut before she could stop herself.

Lando chuckled behind her. “That good, huh?”

She wanted to be embarrassed, but she was too far gone to care. His touch was ridiculously good, and for the first time all week, she felt her body relax.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice low as he leaned down slightly, his breath warm against the side of her face. “Just breathe, sweetheart.”

She absolutely did not breathe.

Instead, she sat there, skin burning, heart racing, mind spiraling at the fact that her best friend was currently massaging her like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And then, because Lando loved making her suffer, he let his fingers slide up, brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of her neck before tracing back down her shoulders.

Y/N jumped.

Lando laughed, his voice right in her ear. “Ticklish?”

“N-no,” she lied, gripping the edges of her chair so tight her knuckles turned white.

“Mm,” he hummed, clearly amused. He gave her shoulders one last squeeze before finally stepping back. “Feel better?”

No. Absolutely not. She felt like she needed to go outside and scream into the void.

But she nodded anyway, avoiding his gaze like her life depended on it.

“Good.” Lando ruffled her hair, grinning. “Now let’s get back to work before you have a full-on breakdown.”

Y/N didn’t have a breakdown over midterms. But she did have one over the realization that she was so fucking screwed.

After hell week, she locked herself in her dorm room, trying to make sense of the past few weeks. For almost 3 months, Lando had been inciting the most out of the blue emotions in Y/N.

He had changed. But it didn’t mean anything.

He had always been tactile, affectionate. He had always been protective, always made her feel like she mattered. It was just who he was.

The problem was, she had started to want it. To crave the warmth of his palm on her thigh when he absentmindedly reached for her during study sessions. To hear the way he murmured "Night, Peach," like it was something soft and fragile and theirs.

And she hated herself for it. Because Lando didn’t like her. Because if he did, if any of this meant something to him, surely he would have said something by now.

Right?

So she did what she had always done.

She laughed when their friends teased them about how they acted like a couple. She rolled her eyes when people assumed they were together. She ignored the way her heart ached every time he pulled away, convinced herself she was imagining the way he looked at her sometimes, like he saw through everything.

Because no matter how much she was falling for him, Lando wasn’t falling for her.

And she just had to live with it.

🪻🪻🪻

From the very first time she visited his home in Bristol, Lando’s parents had welcomed her like she was one of their own. His sisters had immediately pulled her into their group, and his mum and dad never let her leave without offering her enough food to last a month.

So when his parents insisted she come home with him for the semester break, she hadn’t even thought to say no.

Now, sitting in his childhood bedroom, cross-legged on his bed as she flipped through an old photo album his dad had pulled out, she was glad she had agreed.

The photos were a goldmine, including one showing a 6 year old Lando, gap-toothed and grinning, covered in dirt from head to toe after what was probably an ill-advised adventure outside.

“You were so tiny,” she teased, laughing as she held up a picture of him pouting dramatically in a blazer and a pair of trousers that were slightly too big on him.

Lando, who had been sitting beside her, propped up on his elbow, rolled his eyes. “Not anymore I’m not,” he winked at her.

She huffed out a laugh, turning back to the photo. But his gaze lingered on her a beat longer than usual.

Y/N felt it, felt the weight of it, the same way she always did when he looked at her like that. Like she was something worth looking at.

The air between them had been charged for weeks now, the space they usually occupied so comfortably together feeling too small, like something unspoken was pressing against the edges.

She ignored it. She always ignored it.

Because no matter how much she overthought his touches, his lingering stares, the way he felt different lately, she couldn’t let herself believe it meant anything.

But Lando?

He had just about had enough.

He had tried subtlety. He had tried patience. But it had become painfully clear that Y/N, his oblivious best friend, was never going to realize what was right in front of her. So he decided, right then and there, that he was done waiting.

He sat up, closing the photo album in her lap and ignoring the small noise of protest she made. She blinked up at him in confusion, and God, how had he gone so long without kissing her?

“I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was quiet, firm.

Y/N frowned. “Do what?”

Lando inhaled sharply. “This. The hints, the waiting, hoping you’ll get it, I can’t anymore.”

She stared at him, brows furrowing in confusion, and it made him want to scream.

He reached out, cupping her jaw with one hand, his thumb brushing against her cheek in the softest way possible.

Y/N froze.

“I like you,” he said, the words steady and clear. “I like you in a way that isn’t just friendly, in a way that makes me want to pull you close every time I see you.”

“I like you in a way that makes it physically impossible for me to look at you and not think about how badly I want to be yours.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her pulse roaring in her ears. “You’re joking,” she said weakly.

Lando let out a soft, frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “No, Peach. I’m not joking. I’m telling you, finally telling you, that I’ve wanted you for so long, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”

Her brain stalled.

Every moment she had overthought suddenly flashed through her mind, the lingering touches, the way he always called her Peach like it was something sacred, the way he had never once left her side, had never once let her doubt that he would be there.

And now, here he was, saying the thing she had never let herself believe. Her silence stretched between them, and for the first time in a long time, Lando looked uncertain.

His hand, still resting against her jaw, twitched slightly, like he was afraid she was going to pull away.

“Say something,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“I—” She swallowed hard, trying to piece together a coherent thought. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

And before she could overthink it, before she could let herself spiral into a million reasons why this couldn’t be real, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

It was soft at first, a question rather than a demand. His lips brushed against hers hesitantly, like he was giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

Instead, she melted, her hands finding his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like it was the only thing grounding her.

That was all Lando needed.

His other hand found her waist, tugging her closer until there was no space left between them. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to make up for the moments they had wasted.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s heart was hammering, her head spinning. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her lips.

“Please tell me you know what to say,” he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think I have an idea.”

“Good.” Lando grinned, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Took you long enough.”

🪻🪻🪻

It had been almost a year since that night at his family home in Bristol, since he had finally given up on the hints and just told her. Since he had kissed her like he had been waiting his whole life to do it. Since she had stopped pretending she wasn’t completely, irreversibly his.

Now, they were curled up on his bed in his off-campus apartment, the soft glow of morning slipping through the blinds. Lando was still half-asleep, his face buried in the crook of her neck, arms wrapped around her like he had no intention of letting go.

“You’re staring,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Y/N smiled, running her fingers through his curls. “Am not.”

Lando huffed out a laugh, pulling her impossibly closer. “Liar.”

“Lando.”

He hummed, still fixated on her in his arms. “Yeah, Peach?”

She smiled. The nickname had never gone away.

She stretched out on the bed, letting her cheek rest against the pillow as she watched him. “Did you know you’re my first in everything?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Everything,” she confirmed, biting her lip. “First kiss, first boyfriend, first person I’ve ever said ‘I love you’ to…” She paused, eyes twinkling. “And, you know. First in other ways.”

Lando smirked. “I’m very aware, sweetheart.”

Her face burned, but she refused to look away. “You’re my first everything. It’s kind of unfair, don’t you think?”

His fingers reached out to her, brushing them over her flushed cheek. “You’re my first real everything too, you know,” he murmured, voice softer now.

She blinked up at him. “Really?”

Lando nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “First girl I’ve ever been completely gone for.”

A kiss on her cheek. “First person I’ve ever loved.”

Another kiss, this time to her nose. “First person I never want to lose.”

Y/N’s heart swelled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her. He laughed, letting her hold him close as he buried his face in her neck, his arms slipping around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his curls.

Lando tightened his hold on her, his lips brushing against her collarbone as he murmured, “I love you more, Peach.”

And she believed it, because if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that Lando Norris was her first in everything.

And if she was lucky, he’d also be her last.

i’m going to be so honest i started writing this at like 11 something pm and finished by around 2 am. and i only proof read like maybe the first few scenes and then i gave up bc i genuinely feel so sleepy rn, but yes here you go my geeks ^_^