#(and also its almost midnight and I'm tired)

[cardinalshenanigans]

Quick while the anxiety isn't looking, look at my loop du pays fusion. Mal Du Pays got a turn on the ill-advised wishes (and dragged Loop into it because I don't think you're legally allowed to make a bad wish without screwing over Loop in some way, its enrichment for them I swear)

Designs + sketches that may or may not be comprehensible (including one selfcest) down here

[studioeisa]

is it casual now? (teaser) 🫀 seungcheol x reader.

★ seungcheol x makeup artist!f!reader. ★ teaser word count: ~8,000 ★ genre/warnings: mdni. 18+ content. situationship/friends with benefits, light angst, use of pet name ('love'). soft dom!seungcheol, making out, biting/marking, protected sex. let me know if i missed anything! ★ footnotes: this has been on my backburner for months. it's admittedly a full-blown story in need of hard editing, and so i'm posting this in hopes of bullying myself into working on the whole thing. should it come down to it, though, i like to think this can stand on its own. enjoy. <3

Seungcheol has been in the industry long enough to know that everybody had vices.

Trainees, rookies, veterans. It didn't matter. There were dangerous, risky vices. Alcohol, drugs, smoking. There was dating, too, of course. Dating fans, dating fellow idols.

Seungcheol didn't do drugs. He smoked socially, but he would rather not. And he drank, sure, but never to an unhealthy amount. Dating, however—

Did it really count when there was only really ever one person he treated like a vice?

You've been in his life since the group debuted. Nine years, give or take. And then, at one point, he just... tried something with you. And it clicked, fell into place, and now you've been sneaking around for the better half of three years. It's the one place Seungcheol feels like he can breathe, can get away. But it's also the biggest secret he's kept.

You're his makeup artist, after all.

When the two of you started off, you both insisted on nothing serious. To 'keep it casual'.

That worked perfectly for Seungcheol. He likes to think it's still working for him, as he raps at the door of your apartment and waits for you to open up. His wristwatch says that it's midnight, but it doesn't matter. He knocks a little louder, growing a touch impatient.

You open the door, and you're greeted with Seungcheol looking reproachful. "Yah," he chides. "Why haven't you been answering my texts?"

When you rub your eyes with the back of your hands and look over your shoulder to glimpse at your wall clock, Seungcheol almost feels apologetic. Almost. “Cheol,” you say exasperatedly, slowly. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

"So you were sleeping then, hmm?" Seungcheol says. The corner of his lips tilt up, just slightly. He leans against the doorframe, taking a brief amount of time to glance you over. As he does, a small wave of tiredness finally washes over him— just how late had he kept himself up working on new music? "I sent you texts hours ago."

"You didn't even read them." He reaches up, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He sighs, the sound almost exaggerated. "How cruel of you."

You let out a low hum at Seungcheol’s fingers brushing against your skin. “Mmm, I fell asleep with my phone in my hand,” you admit, the words coming out more like a soft sigh than anything else.

You seem to finally drag yourself out of your sleepy state to give Seungcheol a once-over. He knows it shows all over— the exhaustion in his eyes, his stance. He’s tired, and you can tell. You’ve always been able to tell. 

You step aside a bit and he takes that as his cue. Seungcheol moves past you, a small hum in the back of his throat. He toes off his shoes and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. In spite of himself, the moment he's inside, he reaches for you. 

One arm is loosely slung over your shoulders, pulling you in close. He rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against your neck.

"You fell asleep..." he gripes. "Do you know how many texts I sent you? I sent five.” 

“Five”” you repeat as you bear Seungcheol’s weight. Your hand instinctively raises to stroke the base of his hair behind his neck, and he thinks he could melt then and there— your soothing touch, your light tone. “Oh, how ever will you live?”

Seungcheol huffs into the crook of your neck. The feel of your fingers in his hair does wonders to combat the tired, stressed part of himself. Slowly, his shoulders relax, and he sighs, the sound long and deep.

"Don't get snarky with me," he mutters. But there's no bite to it at all, just a quiet sense of contentment in his voice. "You could've at the very least read the messages." He moves, presses a kiss to your neck. "Would've taken ten seconds."

“I was asleep,” you protest, but— whether or not you notice— your head is tilting around a bit to press a lingering kiss on to the side of his face.Seungcheol's stomach flutters. You're sweet like that. Always have been, always will be. He hums under his breath at the kiss, his hand that's on your shoulder moves up to cup your cheek.

“That’s my penance,” you say drowsily. 

"One kiss isn't nearly enough," he tells you. 

He pulls back from your shoulder to look at you, now. The eye contact, the way he regards you, has a more focused weight. He takes a moment to look you over again— hair mussed, face still flushed faintly from sleep. "Two,” he says in a tone that brokers no argument. 

“Greedy,” you mumble, but both of you know it doesn’t matter. 

Not when your free hand finds purchase at his side and you use your fingers in his hair to pull him down so you don't have to stand on your tiptoes. Not when you press your lips together into a kiss that's soft and sweet, almost sleepy.

All it takes is the sound of your voice for Seungcheol to be pulled in— when you tug at his hair, he follows, his chest against yours. He bends down, his own hands coming up to the sides of your face.

He melts against your mouth, his eyes closing in an instant. But it’s done as quickly as it started. You pull away, your face still inches away from Seungcheol’s, as you smilingly mumble to him, “There. Two kisses.” 

His eyes open again once you pull away, his grip on your face tightening just slightly. "Three," he mutters back, and then he leans back in. 

You hum against his mouth, the sound breaking free from the back of your throat. You’re both so tired from your respective work and it shows in the kiss. No heat, no fire. Your tongue swiping over his lip makes Seungcheol hum, quiet and low in his throat. He's usually so used to being the one who takes control, making the first move, but here with you, in the early hours of the morning— there's something else to it.

He pulls you closer against him, his hands moving down to your hips. Against your mouth, he murmurs, "Four," before his tongue slips in, just to get a taste. Just to linger, just to savor, but not take over.

“Cheol,” you huff, though your reprimand is tempered by the way Seungcheol is intent on keeping the kiss going. “You’re— mmph— being greedy—” 

"Five—" he sighs against your mouth. "Let me be greedy a second more."

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling up in your hair. This is what he likes, this is what he always comes to you for. Something that's simple. This, he can deal with. This, he can handle.

It’s never a second more with Seungcheol. He’s always out the door when he can go, when he has to. He’s never been a glutton for time, and so it’s enough for you to sense that something is wrong. 

You break away from him. 

Seungcheol has to resist a whine when you pull back, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. Your hand has moved to his face and you’re looking up at him with a small frown and a quiet query. “Long week?” 

He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, the hand in your hair loosening its grip, fingers just idly combing through the strands.

He glances at your face— the furrow of your brow, the hint of concern in your eyes— and it makes him sigh. He turns his head to press a soft, quick kiss to your palm.

"Long year," he corrects.

You look like you want to say more. Seungcheol almost begs you not to. This— whatever the two of you have— it’s an outlet that won’t break him, won't ruin him, won't tarnish him or the group's name. He just wants— he needs—

You know exactly what he needs, even if he doesn’t always know himself. “How do you want your fifth kiss?” you ask instead of commenting on his obvious fatigue. 

Your question makes Seungcheol's head empty out in an instant.

It takes him a moment to think, to consider. His mind, hazy and tired as it is, struggles to come up with an adequate answer. All he knows is that he's comfortable, that he's tired, that you're here. And that's all he really needs, in the end.

He lets his hand fall from your hair, to the nape of your neck. "... Soft," he murmurs. "Soft and easy."

You’re back up on your tiptoes to give him what he asked for. A sweet, slow press of your lips against his. It’s a kiss that lovers give each other, even though you’re the furthest from that. 

It's easy, easy, easy for him to fall into the kiss just like that, a shudder running down his spine when your tongue doesn't invade him. It's sweet, it's chaste, it's simple. It's exactly the kind of kiss he needs after a week of work.

His hand on your neck moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin there. He breaks away for a mere second, a fraction of a beat, to catch his own breath, but he kisses you right back after. 

"Six," he whispers desperately. "Again."

This time, you laugh against his mouth— a slightly muffled sound, not any less amused— but you give in, still. When you separate for air again, one of your hands rests on his chest to keep him away. “You have to let me breathe, Cheol,” you huff. 

Seungcheol has to resist groaning outright when your palm on his chest keeps him from coming in for another kiss. You're adorable like this, in the middle of the night, with sleep in your eyes and annoyance in your voice.

He knows he's being needy, taking advantage, but at the same time? It's all he seems to be able to do. Greedy, he hears you call him, and it's true.

"I'll let you breathe when I get my seventh kiss, then," he grumbles.

He can see the annoyance blooming on your expression, but he’s saved by one thing and one thing alone: The fact that you can get pretty greedy sometimes, too, especially when Seungcheol was involved. 

"Fine," you say haughtily, feigning annoyance. "Just one more kiss."

Seungcheol's eyes glimmer with something akin to mischief. His hands move to your face again, his own lips curving up in a smirk. You give him an inch, he wants a mile. It's his style. "One more kiss. That I can work with."

He brushes a thumb over your cheek again, his grip in your hair loosening only to brush some stray strands away from your face. "Only fair that I get to pick the way, then," he says, his tone low.

He's going to make the most of this opportunity, and you're letting him.

His tongue darts out briefly to lick over his bottom lip. "Open your mouth."

When you let out a noncommittal hom and oblige, parting your lips, he knows he’s gone. Seeing the obedience in your face makes Seungcheol's stomach do a little bit of an excited flip. You're like this, this, even when you're tired, when you're barely awake.

It's a little addicting.

"Good," he says softly. It's all the warning you get before he's got his mouth on yours again.

He kisses you— devours you, his tongue parting your lips, sliding into your mouth, taking. The kiss is almost bruising and seems to throw you off balance, but you quickly recover by pressing flush against Seungcheol and holding the sides of his arms. If he were a better person, Seungcheol would let this be the last one. Would let this kiss end and call it a night. 

But then the smallest of sounds escape you. A whimper, a soft noise that only makes all sense fly right out of Seungcheol's head. It's not fair, he thinks, that you still have a hold on him even in the middle of the night.

All it makes him do is pull you closer— press you up against the wall with his entire body, his hands still gripping your face as he kisses you deep. Harder than he usually would, rougher than he normally did.

He swallows the sound, his tongue still in your mouth.

Your fingernails are pressing into his biceps now. Your tongue is sinking into his lower lip; not quite biting, but enough to drag his focus away for a moment. "Seung," you sigh, and it’s like music to his goddamn ears. 

He was Choi or Seungcheol when he was in your makeup chair. Cheol, when it was just the two of you. But Seung was something different entirely. 

A small moan, low and quiet, gets caught in Seungcheol's throat when you bite into his lip, when you whine out his name like that. He knows what it means when you call him like that— knows what he's in for.

He relishes in it. In moments like these when he gets to be like this. When he doesn't have to be responsible, when he doesn't have to be a leader. He gets to be just Seung.

There isn't a single part of his body that's not on fire right now, not when he's got you pinned against the wall, not when you're all satin and soft against him. His grip on your face tightens, and now his lips are no longer on your mouth, but on your jaw, moving down to your neck, your throat.

A quiet, needy little ah falls out your lips when he nips at that spot on your pulse point, and there, there is exactly when he knows that he's got you exactly where he wants you. Pinned by his body, shaking and shivering like he's touching you for the first time.

If he was feeling a little less riled up, a little less needy, he'd keep up the teasing. But he can't, not now. His hands move from your face to your hips, moving under the satin of your pajamas. It's not enough, never enough.

Every sound that leaves your mouth, every little please, just, already sets a fire in his brain. Every part of his mind turns to static, white noise, as he keeps his lips on your throat, your neck, biting and nipping at your skin.

“Seung,” you hiss, your hands flying to his shoulders as you press your back on to the entryway wall, willing yourself not to crumple. “I’m going to get a noise complaint again—”

“I'll pay the fine,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips against your collarbone now, his hands still on your hips. His brain is starting to grow fuzzy, his thoughts less coherent, but this was the goal.

To get you like this. Soft and shaking and desperate. To make you his for the night, for just a little while. To hold some sort of control over something in his life.

“You can't just keep paying for— ah— the fines,” you’re babbling. “They're going— t-to kick me— Seung, fuck!"

Whatever you’re trying to say dies out when Seungcheol nips at your warm skin. The rational part of him, somewhere deep, deep inside, knows that you're right. He can't keep paying your fines for complaints of loud music and loud sex.

The part of him that's currently working on painting a bruise on your collarbone doesn't seem to care all that much.

"I'll pay," he repeats, between leaving a few more marks on your skin for good measure. "As many times as I have to—"

“Jesus Christ,” you cuss, your chest heaving as Seungcheol’s hand moves higher and higher up your shirt. “My neighbors are so fucking sick of me, and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” Even through the haze in his head, Seungcheol can't help the low scoff that he lets out. He wants to say that he couldn't care less about your neighbors— wants to say that your pretty mouth makes up for the noise, but something else catches his attention. The brush of his fingers on bare skin. 

His eyes go wide, his brain suddenly clearing.

"You're not wearing anything underneath your pajamas," he deadpans, his voice coming out in a low drawl.

Of course, that adds up. You hadn’t been expecting Seungcheol, after all, so he can’t blame you for foregoing the underclothes. Still, it only stokes the growing flame in the base of his stomach. Especially when you move your head back against the wall so you’re looking right up at Seungcheol, the ghost of a smirk on your face. 

“Wanna check for yourself?” you taunt. 

A low groan falls out of Seungcheol's mouth as soon as you ask that. Like clockwork, his hands go to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up slightly. Just a little bit, just to see if you're really not wearing anything beneath.

"You always like to tease," he says, his voice low. That hint of a smirk on your face is only serving to drive him that much crazier. "Go on, then. Show me, since you want to act all cocky."

You give him half an eye roll that’s more affectionate than anything else before reaching over to the back of your pajama collar. You pull the top over your head in one deft, swift movement. Seungcheol's eyes go wide for just a moment, taking in the sight of you, undressed, in front of him. It never stops shocking him, never stops making his heart thump a little harder, his breath coming out a little more labored.

“Happy?” you half-joke, your voice low. 

He looks at you, up and down, before his eyes go back to your face. His hands move from your hips to your waist, fingers tracing over the sides of your chest as he shakes his head.

"Not yet," he says. "But I will be."

His hands keep tracing over your skin, his touch light— almost feathery, as he keeps his eyes fixed on your face. There's something about seeing you so exposed like this that's driving him absolutely insane, something about you being entirely at his mercy that's making his eyes grow dark.

He leans in, bringing his lips just past your ear. "Turn around," he murmurs, almost like a command.

He sees how you swallow hard, how you take in the familiar darkness in Seungcheol’s gaze. You know him, have known him for years, and that comes with trust. Unflinchingly, you twist around in his arms to press your chest against the wall. 

He has you practically trapped, all against his chest and the wall. His eyes look at you up and down, taking in your bare shoulders and back, the way you've submitted to him so perfectly.

His hands go to your hips again, and his eyes look over your back, following the line of your bare spine. "What do you say we find a use for this wall besides me just pushing you up against it," he murmurs. "Hm?"

“Yes, please,” you whimper, and as soon as you agree, Seungcheol's hands tighten on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he pulls you a little closer to him. You're not going anywhere, not when he's got you like this.

He leans in, his body practically pressing up against your back, his chest against your skin. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a strangled whine out from somewhere deep in your throat. "You look so goddamn pretty like this, love," he murmurs against your skin.

His hands move from your hips to your chest, tracing the skin there before he brings them up to your throat. He presses his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the thump thump thump of your heartbeat.

He can feel your heart thrumming against his hand, can practically hear you shaking. It's driving him absolutely insane— you, underneath him, trembling for him. The knowledge that he's got you like this, the fact that you're letting him take control, letting him do whatever he wants.

He moves his mouth to that spot on your neck again, the skin that's so sensitive that it makes you whimper and shiver. He always finds it so easy to tease those sounds out of you, and always relishes in doing it.

His hands stay at your neck, his fingers still pressed against your pulse point. This had always been one of Seungcheol's little habits— a single finger on your pulse point, as if he liked seeing which actions would make your heart rate spike, which words would have it hammering.

Seungcheol presses his lips on your skin again. "You're so loud."

He marvels at the way you ball your hands into fists, the way you shake all over with poorly concealed want and need as he keeps nipping and marking. "‘M not," you gasp, lurching forward against the wall. "‘M perfectly— hng!"

Everything is working in his favor.

You're shaking, and your heart is racing, and every noise you make is just more fodder for him. God, he loves it. Loves being the one to make you absolutely tremble and shiver like this. Loves the fact that he's the only one to make you feel like this.

"You're mine," he says again, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He bites the shell of it, hard, before letting out a low hum.

This is his favorite place in the entire world— right against your back, feeling your body heat against his chest, his tongue running over your skin. He loves how reactive you are to him, how sensitive you are, how your body just melts under his touch.

"Say it," he mutters against your skin. "Who's in control?"

There it is. The million won question.

The whole reason you started these rendezvouses in the first place. He had been spinning out of control, and you had been lonely, and you clicked into place like magnets. 

You give in, like you always do. The words are a soft whimper, almost a shout in your otherwise empty apartment. "You. You're in control, Seung."

That's all he wants to hear.

He digs his fingers into your jaw and wrenches your head so it's turned to look at him, his lips inches from yours. Even if there's a little pain, nothing in him is stopping. "Good," he mutters, his breath hot against your lips. "Good girl."

The kiss that follows is absolutely messy, the kind of kiss where it's just tongue and teeth and raw need. It's worlds different from the soft and easy kisses that Seungcheol asked for earlier, when he first came in complaining about five unanswered texts.

"Seung," you groan as you pull away for air. "Please—" 

When you moan his name, it's like something snaps.

He growls low, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your shorts, gripping the fabric hard enough that there's a very real chance of them ripping. "Please what?" he mumbles against your neck. "You need to tell me what you need, love. Use your words."

"I hate you," you whine, and Seungcheol nearly smiles. He knows you’re not fond of begging, but he needs to hear it from you. At least, he wants to. 

"You know what I—" you’re saying, but dammit, his control is already razor thin as is. He rips off the last fabric of clothing on you until you’re completely bare, pressed entirely up between the wall and him. 

Somehow, your mind still has some shrivel of coherence to complain, "I liked this set, asshole!"

He grins against your skin at your words, chuckling at your whine, at the way you're just reacting to him. You can act annoyed, you can act like you don't need him, but he knows. "I'll buy you a new one," he hums, finally letting go of your shorts and letting them fall to the floor in tatters. "One for me to rip to shreds all over again."

That thought alone makes his blood sing.

It takes you a great effort to turn around, but somehow you manage. Seungcheol is still fully clothed and so your bare chest presses against the front of his shirt. The sight of you, naked, his hands at your hips, pressed right up against him, against his chest like this— he's gone.

And then you’re asking him, low and sweet as he has you caged in, "Where are you going to fuck me tonight, Seung?"

He can't even manage a word for a moment, his hands holding you so tight that he's definitely going to leave marks on your skin, his eyes fixed on your face.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry at the question. "You want me to say it out loud, hm?"

You go to steal the upper hand for a minute or so, and you do it so effectively. Your hand rises almost lazily to his neck, your finger instinctively finding his pulse point. He feels his heart rate speed up as he watches, just watches, you do it. You stand on your tiptoes to raise your lips directly to his ear. 

All he can feel is the thunder of his heart racing against your hand. You seem to notice it, too, if the smile on your face is any indication. 

"How about you just show me instead?" you say, and he’s convinced he’ll pass out then and there. 

"You're a brat," he mutters through gritted teeth, his hand moving up from your hips and up your spine. "A brat who needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes a shuddering breath, almost completely lost in your little game, before he snaps back to himself. Seungcheol's hand leaves your hip and goes to your hand, gripping your wrist hard. "On the sofa," he says, and it’s nothing short of a command. 

He practically drags you on to the piece of furniture, watching intently as you fall back with a small oomph. Seungcheol stands on the edge of the couch as you prop yourself up by the elbows to watch him right back. 

The sight of you underneath him— your hair splayed against the cushions, your eyes half-lidded and fixed on him? It's absolutely perfect. It's the kind of thing that he wants to keep in his mind forever, the sight he wants to always be able to remember.

He lets out a noise under his breath as he undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper going down obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Gorgeous,” he breathes. 

He gets his jeans undone and kicked off, his shirt following them not long after, and then he's on top of you, caging you in, his hands either side of your head, staring down at you.

The look in his eyes isn't something he really gets to show often— that raw need, that want, how desperate he is for you. He wants you, God, he wants you so badly, and you're letting him have you.

He dips his head to your neck, his lips against your skin, his breath hot against your pulse point, still absolutely obsessed with that spot. His hands find your wrists, pinning them back against the couch, while his knee finds its way between your thighs, pressing up against you.

You arch and squirm underneath him, visibly distressed with the facsimile of friction that you’re getting from his knee. “Seung,” you pant, grinding your dripping core against his knee. It sends a jolt of electricity through him. “Please— don’t wanna wait any more—”

“Where’s all that snark now, hm?” he teases, his teeth running over the skin on your neck. But he’s not any better off, his own self-control slipping through his very fingers as his hips grind down against you desperately. 

"Been driving me insane, love," he whispers, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck. "Been dreaming about this for days. Missing you—” 

A low keen escapes you, and he can only echo it as you tug at the last piece of material separating you. “Can we get this off already, please?” you huff as you hook your fingers at the waistband of his boxer shorts. 

He groans against your skin, his teeth finally letting go when he lifts his head to look down at you, the expression on his face looking like he's fighting for control. "God, yes," he groans, lifting his hips just enough for you to tug them off him.

He kicks them off once you’ve yanked them down, and his hand— which has instinctively gravitated to your pulse point— feels how the beat absolutely skyrockets. One of your arms goes around his shoulder and the other, surprisingly, clutches his jaw.

You’re looking right at him as you say, "Fast and hard, Seung."

"Yeah?" he says, just the slightest hint of a surprise in his voice. "You want me to be rough with you, love?"

Seungcheol was usually a sweet lover. He liked taking his time, liked being gentle and responsible even in bed.

But there were particularly rough weeks, terrible days, where he just needed a means to an end. Where the sex was an outlet, where the best thing you could be for him was his. 

He waits for your permission, because he still always remembers to ask no matter how far deep you’re in. The agreement comes in the form of the best three words. 

"Ruin me, Seung."

You know him too well. You know how he works, you know how he thinks, and you know him better than anyone.

He groans in response to your words, his head dipping down to drag his teeth gently over your collarbone. He's trying to hang on to his control, he is, but it's a losing effort.

"I will, love." His breath is hot against your skin, his hands finding your hips. "Just give me a minute—"

He shifts, just for a moment, to find the condom in his jean pocket. He goes through the motions until he's back on top of you again, one hand coming up to grip your hip again, the other coming up to rest against your throat. He looks down at you, his eyes almost glowing. 

"You trust me?" he mutters. His hand at your hip tightens; his hand at your throat barely clenches around your pulse point, his eyes never leaving yours.

You can feel it, see it. The way the little threads are beginning to unravel and fray. The way this was no longer Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN; not the leader, not the idol. This was something different entirely, someone else completely.

"I do," you whisper back, your eyes so full of adoration for him that he has to bite back the urge to scream. "I trust you, Seungcheol."

His full name is what really does it for him, because then he's pushing in, and you’re gasping, whimpering, trying to adjust around him and the fact that you’re practically clenching him on the get-go. Seungcheol eases in, nice and slow, because you’re too tightly coiled for him to do more than carefully bottom out. You’re both heaving, your breaths coming out as gasps; your own breaths are sharp, harsh, because Seungcheol is still choking you a little. 

His head dips down to your shoulder because he needs something to hold on to, anything, while his mind spins. His head is dizzy feeling you like this, feeling you around him so tightly. He's trembling, his thighs shaking, but he's holding himself back as long as he can.

When Seungcheol gets as far in as he can possibly get, you let out twin groans. He’s completely sheathed inside of you and you’re fluttering around him in a way that’s dangerous. 

“Y’can move, Seung,” you reassure him after a moment, the words coming out strained with desire. “As fast and hard as you want.” 

You sound strangled, just like he feels, and it's taking him a mammoth amount of control to hold himself back. He groans against your shoulder at the sound of your voice, the words you say. He wants to move, to thrust, but he's trying to have some semblance of composure. 

"Love," he says, his voice wrecked. "I—"

His voice breaks. It breaks, because there is only so much he can take, and he's beyond that point now. There's a tremor in his thighs, his hands clenching in the cushion below you.

You drag him right back down, with the sound that you let out that’s halfway a whine and a sigh. One of your hands goes to rest in the space between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades, as if to steady the two of you. 

Your voice is surprisingly firm when you speak. "Let go," you command. And then, softer, "I need you."

Your words, your voice— it's in complete conflict with the situation you're currently in. And yet, it works. He lets out a sound, one that's somewhere between a growl and a whimper, his breath hot against your skin. And then he's moving and he's holding nothing back.

He's hard, brutal, and he's taking. His teeth on your shoulder; his breath against your neck; his nails digging into you.

It's a relentless, dizzying pace. Seungcheol bullies into your weeping cunt, fast and hard, and it draws out the most obscene sounds from you. Gasps, whines, an occasional scream when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. What has him seeing stars is the fact that you can't seem to settle on a name to moan. "Seung— Seungcheol— Cheol—"

Yes, you're saying, yes.

Seungcheol loses himself, utterly and completely, in you. You're on the edge, he can hear it; he can feel it, and God, he wants to hear you say his name. Every single one of them. 

It almost sounds like a mantra, your voice, as he takes and takes and takes, his breathing harsh, ragged.

You go through all of the names you have for him, breathless and wrecked, until you can't even say anything because his hips are snapping into you with a ferocity that's rare but not unwelcome. Your pornographic moans reverberate in your otherwise empty apartment, and Seungcheol thinks he might go insane. 

"'M close," you choke out. "Cheollie, baby, I'm— ah, fuck— Seung—"

His breath catches at your words, his eyes closing for a moment as he groans. You, you, in all your perfect, glorious, undone state. It’s a sight he wishes he could capture, freeze in time.

He lets out a whimper, his words almost slurred when he responds. "Love— I—"

He's never been this rough, never this intense. You're the only one, the only person he's ever let himself go like this with. The only person who he's ever let see everything, take everything.

He's on the edge, he's there, he's—

"C'mon," he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand clenching hard around your hip. "With me, love, please."

It's a miracle that you can even nod, can even find your voice as Seungcheol keeps on going with his erratic, stuttering thrusts. "With you," you gasp. 

He snaps into you, then, and you arch up with a scream of his name. There’s the familiar white-hot flash of pleasure; the impossibly tight clench of your walls around him.

He stays buried in you for several long moments, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He has never felt so utterly spent in his entire life, never been so completely, utterly drained of energy. He's weak against you. He’s weak because of you. 

"God," he finally manages to mutter.

He lifts his head, just enough to be able to look at you, but he can't even muster a grin. He's spent and he knows you know that.

His hand comes up slightly, to brush the hair off of your forehead. "I think..." he says, his voice thick and hoarse, "I think I ruined you, love."

You let out a breathless laugh, one that you have to push out of your heaving chest. "You���" you try to say, but the words don't form, not at first. You take a few moments to take in some air, to gulp past the lump in your throat. "You're a fool."

His lips twitch into a tired but genuine smile at the sound of your laugh. It’s a soft sound that he's always thought sounds beautiful, especially coming from you.

A hoarse, broken laugh of his own escapes; his hand coming up to rest at your jawline, his thumb gently tracing over the warm skin there. He's still catching his breath, but he's slowly gathering himself.

"Am I a fool?" he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. "What does that make you, then?"

You’re a fool, too, he thinks to himself. For letting me have this. 

Instead of answering him, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s the only answer he’s going to get from you for now, it seems. 

He lets out a soft huff, moving his head back just slightly, his eyes closing. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice still rough with fatigue.

"Every time," you respond. Your own voice is strained, almost tired, but there's a hint of amused exasperation. "You say that every time, Cheol."

His eyes opened once again to look at you.

"Because it's true," he says simply, his voice soft and sincere, the hand resting at your jaw moving to brush your hair back from your face. "It's always true, love."

He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every inch of you. His eyes pause at your lips for a moment, his tongue gently wetting his own, his gaze finally moving back up to meet your eyes.

You thread your shaking fingers through the back of his hair and answer his unspoken question. "Kiss me soft and easy, Cheol," you whisper.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he's in action.

He leans forward without a second thought, the hand not buried in your hair going to rest on your hip, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

There's no heat in it, no want or need. Just a soft press of his lips against yours, gentle and slow. 

It's languid and unhurried. Like there's nowhere either of you have to be after this. For a moment, you can pretend that this is normal— that Seungcheol will not have to leave, and that you’ll not have to change into new pajamas because he'd broken yours, and that you can be... well, something, anything aside from what you are now.

But it's wishful thinking, you both know, so all Seungcheol can do is kiss you. He lets out a soft sound, almost a sigh, as his tongue slides into your mouth, his hand on your hip tightening slightly. His other hand is in your hair still, his fingers gently tracing over your scalp, his body almost melting against yours.

He will have to leave. He always does. But for now, he's here, with you, and you feel perfect, and—

Five minutes, he bargains. Five more minutes.

And then things end, not really by your own accord.

The sharp, shrill sound of Seungcheol's phone ringing breaks through your haze. You pull away, a bit jolted at the foreign sound— at something other than your words, your breathing, reverberating in the room. It takes you a beat too long to realize someone is calling him— his phone in his discarded jeans— in the godawful middle of the night. 

He lets out a loud groan, the sound tired and drawn out, and he can't help but rest his forehead against your shoulder once again, letting out a resigned sigh.

"God, save me," he mutters, his voice rough. "What time is it?"

You chuckle lightly. "Go on," you urge softly, not because you want to but because you have to. "Answer."

Seungcheol lets out another loud, drawn out sigh, his shoulders slumping in obvious defeat. He reluctantly lifts his head from your shoulder with a grumble, but he can't quite stop himself from pressing a kiss to your cheek just before he shifts up and off of the couch.

Once he’s reached down to grab his phone from where it's stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he answers without looking at the caller ID. "Yeah?"

"Hyung!"

It's Soonyoung— of course it's Soonyoung— calling.

"Are you still at the company?" the younger member asks. "I think I forgot my headset in one of the practice rooms, and Minghao said you didn't go home with them."

"It's midnight, Soonyoung." 

You shit over on the couch, careful not to make any sound. Not to give Soonyoung any suspicion that Seungcheol might be somewhere where he shouldn't be. You press a small, reassuring kiss to Seungcheol's hip as Soonyoung goes on to whine, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's the expensive headset, hyung. If you're still there, could you check? Please?"

Seungcheol lets out a huff— a mixture of resigned affection and irritation— at the feeling of your lips against his skin. He can feel the exhaustion deep within his bones now, and all he wants to do is go back to snuggling into you for the night.

But he can't say no to Soonyoung, especially not at this time of night.

"Fine," he grumbles, letting out a huff. "Which practice room?"

You can hear the moment Soonyoung practically brightens with triumph.

"Third floor!" he says happily, and you bury your face into Seungcheol's side to keep yourself from laughing. "You're the best, hyung! I'll buy you a meal tomorrow for the trouble!"

He reaches down with the hand not holding his phone, pressing his palm to the top of your head, pushing lightly down. A warning of don't laugh. "Just be thankful I'm your hyung, kid," Seungcheol grouses.

Soonyoung ends the call soon enough, saying some things about sending Seungcheol a photo of his headset so he knows exactly which one is missing. When it's back to just the two of you again, you tilt your head up to look at Seungcheol. 

"You're really going back for it tonight?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. 

The corner of his lip twitches into a half smile at the way you look up at him. His eyes takein the sight of you— his hand on the back of your head, his fingers gently twisting strands of your hair.

"Of course I am," he sighs. "I can't say no to him, love."

You shift upward so you can sit side by side with Seungcheol. Both of you have yet to put on any clothes, but you’ve at least gathered your bearings enough to form coherent words now.

"You can't say 'no' to any of them," you tease as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. There's an almost blinding affection in your tone as you say, "You and your goddamn boys."

Seungcheol reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you closer to him. Briefly, he presses his lips against your hair. His eyes are almost tender as he speaks.

"They're my boys," he says, his voice soft.

You let the words hang there for just a moment. It’s an admission, one that both of you have known for the longest time, but it's also a reminder. It’s the reason why you and Seungcheol can never be more than this—because he has his boys, and he would never do anything to jeopardize them.

You press your face against the column of his neck for just one more precious moment. You’ve never been selfish about Seungcheol, but there were nights when you thought about it. Just… thought about it.

The thought never wins.

"Let’s clean up, get dressed," you whisper into his skin. "So you can head to the company sooner."

He lets out a soft, almost painful exhale. He knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling; he's thought about it himself, as well. He hates having to leave you, hates having to say that he has to leave you. But his boys are his boys, and one day all this will be over, and then...

He can't think about it right now, though.

Instead, he nods, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Yeah."

It takes about ten minutes or so for you both to gather everything together. Seungcheol still looks tired, though for different reasons now. He’s essentially traded one exhaustion for another.

As he puts on the shoes he left in your entryway, you lean against your doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. "I’ll be holding you accountable for my pajama set," you warn him. "And for tomorrow’s noise complaint."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffs, taking a step toward you. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten."

His face softens as he reaches you, his hands coming up to grab your elbows, gently pulling you closer to him. "Sorry," he says. "Again."

 "You’re not sorry, " you sigh pointedly, more out of spite than anything. It’s the truth—he’s not really that apologetic about losing control every now and then, about your neighbors knowing you’re being pulled close every so often.

When you bury your face into his chest, he lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him, just like every single time before.

"You’re right," he murmurs. A quiet, affectionate admission. “Not sorry. Not even a little.”

He holds you there against him, his eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself just a few more moments before he has to leave. You both stay there, allowing yourselves that moment, until the tension in Seungcheol’s shoulders fades and your annoyance at your torn pajamas ebbs. It could’ve been five minutes, maybe less, but then Seungcheol’s phone pings with a text—surely Soonyoung asking if he’s found his headset.

You’re the one who takes the step back, putting some distance between you. "Drive safe," you tell Seungcheol. "Text me when you’re there."

Resigned. That’s the only way to describe the smile that tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he says. "I will."

True to his word, Seungcheol does indeed send you a text about an hour or so after he'd arrived at the company, informing you that he was there and had found Soonyoung’s headset.

He's still exhausted, and all he wants is to be back. Back inside of you, back with you. But he can't do any of that. At least, not right now. Not at this point.

I miss you already, is the only other thing he adds to his text.

Your text comes in only moments later, like you had been waiting by your phone. 

you're a fool. head home. take care.

A soft sigh escapes him the moment he reads your text, his eyes flickering over the words you'd typed, the harshness of it. It's another layer of protection for the both of you, but it's still not easy to read.

He's about to respond with something snarky, some light-hearted joke to tease you a bit, but he stops himself at the last moment. He knows that you're right.

He needs to head home. He needs to take care.

And he’s an absolute goddamn fool, in more ways than one. 

[edenspoem]

Um so wolves go into heat around winter an it got me thinking. Werewolf!ellie in heat absolutely RAILING reader

Im talking absolutely DESTROYING reader

She turn up at the door like "scissor tongitj?? Scissor tonight queen??? ✂️✂️"

♱|. . a/n: i'm supposed to be writing vampire smut.. but here we are! just need to get something out even if it's shitty (i'm also just sick and dgaf about perfectly writing a blurb).. i've also been listening to juno a lot so all i can think about is BREEDING. mdni.

werewolf!ellie panting at the corner of your cracked door—dark, ripped jeans, a crucible of sweat that clumps hairs to her forehead, shine to her skin—and she rushes a near nothing from her lips before the desperation could crawl out and eat you whole. if she quietened her own heart, she could catch yours pounding. “hey babe, fuckin' missed you. c'mere.” each syllable is accompanied by gusts of her gutsy—and almost visible to the cold—breath. its scent and heat bled through quickly. it poured over, into, and under her swooping fingertips, which had the back of your head snared and pulled into her mouth, eating your response with a whine she never intended to release.

the nature of your girlfriend isn't occultic to you; she drags you into her midnight realm and makes you feel like the worshipped moon. at this point, your brain tends to forget that she's even a werewolf to begin with, and eases in the penchant way she has with you: chasing you, loving hard, owning handfuls of your flesh that she lets spill and manipulate her senses. but, in the epicenter of this brutal winter—your first one together—you least expect a shirt to be shredded from your torso in one, hungry rip, tossed like ribbons on the floor and abandoned as you licked the nectary words dripping off her tongue. “wanna have a fuckin' baby with you.. ahah—shit, can i give you one?” she stumbled in giggles, so sweetly, and fumbled so pitifully with the rest of your clothes, you had to assist before something else was torn.

yeah, she can wear you out giving you 'one' any fuckin' day.

“miss me?” ellie clings, with nails that long to be sharp, into the small of your back. deep enough to bleed. it stung with a soft whimper inside your chest, “mhh—yes, ellie.” teeth collecting the sighed words from your lower lip.

she would rub her pussy against yours until it was throbbing raw, and her hips gave out. it did most times; from the wanton, the sheer letch to let loose, to give you something special—but if you whispered into a safekeeping, it would be about how she lets her hormones get the best of her. more so when your touch is involved. when your tired fingers trace the bushed mess that leads up her stomach in a thin, waning tornado-line, wrap your hand around and soothe her pelvis with pressure—she loses it.

“can't handle it at all, huh?” you pant, smiling at the fucked-out, glistening and red look on her face. her scarred brows tighten when your sticky thighs come into contact with an audible slap. it's her juices that coat you. “poor thing.”

ellie cups her own tit and rolls deeper into her straddle, you're not even sure she heard you; too lost in that midnight realm. but, if you're being honest, you're the one that can't handle it. human endurance has you beat for miles—she has to place your limp leg on her shoulder. “f-fuck..” she trembles. soon enough, the hairs covering her cunt are shining wet with her cum, and she can only hope that it takes. “thats it.. oh my god..” she leans into her nape, voice vibrating deep and hoarse in her chest. she looked like golden heaven, with her head hanging like that. though, her stamina will be the death of you: she lifts her head and starts hovering over you for more, hot breaths that felt cold in your used state fanning over your cheek. “gonna be a goddamn mama, babe. got more in me—if ya' wanna go again, hm?”

[blakerights]

43) “god you’re so emotionally constipated.” for Emily x Reader please.

history smothers us

emily prentiss x gn!reader

summary: years of unspoken words and misconceptions threaten to destroy what remains of a once close relationship. you couldn't imagine your life without emily. now you look at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. featuring prompt "god you're so emotionally consitpated" from my prompt list.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with a happy ending. mention of blood. no use of y/n. set in season 12. unit chief prentiss.

a/n: thank you so much for the request <3 sorry it took me a while I struggled to find the right idea. I imagine this wasn't what you had in mind but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. also side note: i've deleted my taglist, i'm restarting because it was years old so if anyone would like be re-tagged or anyone new would like to be added pls lmk!

The police lights flash in the midnight sky. Agents and local police spread across the farmhouse. And you, sitting in the back of an ambulance, blood dripping down the side of your head, the beginnings of a headache making itself known.  

The bright torch shining in your eyes makes you wince, but the EMT clears you of a concussion and hands you pain meds to swallow. You drag your hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips. 

The unsub had come out of nowhere and whacked you over the head with a metal pole, and he probably would’ve done a lot more if it wasn’t for Tara being two steps behind you. 

Honestly, you were fine. A little banged up, with a nasty bruise already forming, but the blood had been wiped away and it was almost like it had never happened.

Well, apart from the very angry Unit Chief Prentiss stalking towards you. 

You wish this was an unfamiliar sight, but god she’d been back months now and you don’t think her smile had been pointed in your direction once. 

“What were you thinking?” She scolds, voice sharp and eyes narrowed. You don’t miss the shaking of her hands as she holds them tightly on her hips or the rising flush of her cheeks, both she would blame on the cold but you knew they were born out of concern, not that she’d ever admit it. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the FBI now required its agents to have the abilities to see through walls.” You roll your eyes, the half-joke an attempt to fix her glare, but you know even as the words pass your lips it’s futile. Your shoulders slump, already too tired for the fight ahead,  “He came out of nowhere, Prentiss.” 

Her lips purse, “They require you to be able to clear a room. It seems you might need a refresher course. Maybe until you can be trusted and I deem you requalified it’s best you stay back in quantico.” 

“What?” You ask incredulously. Of all the dumb things- “Let me get this straight, you’re benching me over nothing? Tara was through that door seconds later. I wasn’t defying your orders. You have no reason to do this!”

“I want you to redo your basic training so I know you can be trusted in the field.” She demands, stoic, serious, and so far away from the soft woman you used to be able to reach out to. 

You laugh, but the noise is sad and wild. You shake your head in disbelief, watching the woman in front of you that years ago used to be the person you were closest to in the world. Now you stare at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. “God, you’re so emotionally constipated.” 

“Excuse me?” 

You push yourself off the end of the ambulance, bringing yourself to your full height and meeting her gaze. You knew the day she accepted the unit chief position this wouldn’t end well, there was too much history, too much the two of you had left unsaid, hurt and anger smothering any possible relationship left. 

“Let’s not pretend this has anything to do with my performance.” You begin, words low enough that if she didn’t listen the words threatened to disappear with the wind, “It’s because I got hurt and you’d rather damage my career and ruin the tatters of our relationship than admit that me getting hurt scared you.” 

Emily steps backwards, face stricken. Her hands fall from her hips, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles for words. 

You decide there’s nothing left she can say. You excuse yourself and grab a lift with Luke, happy to leave the crime scene and your boss behind. After everyone’s finished at the farmhouse and packed up at the police station it’s nearing two am and everyone is ordered back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before the flight in the morning. 

Your feet are dragging by the time you make it to your room. The meds have done their job though and your headache had faded away, but nothing but sleep was going to help your heavy and aching bones. You wave a tired goodbye to Tara, who unlike Emily had no issues checking in and making sure you were okay, and then retreat to your room. 

You slump into the chair at the desk, telling yourself you’ll find the energy to get ready for bed in one minute. But so thankful to finally be off your feet. Your reprieve lasts only minutes before a knock sounds at your door. A withered sigh leaves your lips and you consider ignoring it but still find yourself pushing yourself upright and making your way back to the door. 

When you open it, you wish you’d listened to your thoughts. 

“Hi?” You say hesitantly, staring into the tired face of Emily Prentiss. There’s no anger, her shoulders are almost slumped, defeated maybe? You look away, too scared to analyse further. 

“Can I come in?” 

You open the door further allowing her entrance. She smiles, tight lipped at you, nodding her thanks. You close the door and wait for her to speak, pondering how in the hell you both got to awkward silences and forced tight lipped smiles when years ago you two could share looks across the room and know what the other was thinking, spent hours talking and laughing together, how you had built a life and never thought there would be a day that she wasn’t in it with you. 

“We can’t go on like this.” She starts eyes meeting yours before flickering away, “Things between us have not been right since I returned and I think maybe we should clear the air. I want to be the Unit Chief, I want to be back here at Quantico but that only works if we can be a team.” 

You scoff. It slips from your mouth, uncontrolled and harsh. Emily’s gaze snaps to yours, her surprise at the sound clear. You shake your head, “What is there to say?” Where would we even begin?

“I-” She chokes, blinking as the emotions claw at her throat. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Your brows draw in confusion as you shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

“After everything that happened with Doyle-”

Your eyes bulge, “You think I'm still upset about that? God, do you think I’m a monster? You survived. You lived. That’s all that matters.” 

Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her gaze shifting to the wall as her fingers pick at a hangnail. She looks back at you, still picking, gaze more open and lost than you’ve seen in a long time. “Then why? I hurt you. I can see it in the way you can barely stand to be around me, like it hurts you to even be in my presence.” 

You blow out a breath, eyes moving around the room before they land back on her and then away again. “It’s not your fault.” You breathe, emotions lodged in your throat and heart beating wildly against your chest as you try and force the words out. “You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself. There was never going to be a life I led that you weren’t right with me, you know?” You laugh, wet and broken. 

Emily’s mouth falls open, her eyes emotional pits that you don’t dare hold. 

“And then you left for London and I couldn’t exactly be upset because I had no say in what you did with your life. We were just friends. I knew it’s what you needed and I don’t resent you for that. I just…” You take a breath, “I was so angry at myself for missing you, for thinking that I could be someone you would stay for.”

And there it was. The truth. Because at the end of the day, you’ve always just wanted to be enough for the woman in front of you. For her to see you as more than just your friend. To one day have your feelings returned. 

She’d left and you’d both been busy and you’d deliberately tried to separate yourself as well, drawing back from the painful reminder that you weren’t enough. And since her return, all those emotions have been resurfacing, however much you tried to keep them buried. Because falling out of love with Emily Prentiss was just not something you were capable of, and you’ve spent years trying too. 

Emily approaches you, the space between you closing ever so slightly. Your gaze sticks to the ground, scared to see the easy to read emotions across her face. She takes a breath, the sound muffled by the beating of your heart.

“After I came back from Paris, I used to find myself looking at you and knowing I couldn’t be that woman you remembered, the one you sought for. I wanted to. Desperately.” Her voice hitches, and then lowers to a hoarse whisper, “I wanted to be the woman you fell for.” 

Your eyes finally rise, against your will. Tears make their way in delicate paths down her cheeks, she looks every bit as lost as you feel. The only thing stopping you from falling apart is the fear that if you let go you may never recover. 

“I didn’t need you to be anyone. I just wanted you to be yourself. I wanted you to trust me.” You respond gently.

She shakes her head, “No, everyone was looking for that version of me that I couldn’t grasp onto.”

“Emily,” You sigh painfully. Her face crumples, eyes squeezing shut at the sound of her name from your lips. It’s been so long, you know. “You were healing from a trauma. I’ve always wanted the authentic you, whatever that includes. Why would that suddenly change?” 

She nods, a deep frown on her face as she accepts your words. Then a wet laugh, as she wipes away her tears. “I’ve missed you. Every day. I hate being in the same room as you and it being awkward. I used to be able to look at you and know what you’re thinking. I want that back.” 

A small smile curves your lips, “Me too, more than anything.” 

“Yeah?” She questions. Her teeth run across her lip, as she dares to hope. “You think we could get back there?” 

Your heart hammers. “I just need you to be really clear here. What exactly are we getting back to?” 

She steps forward, finally close enough to touch. Her hand hesitantly reaches out and touches yours, her cold fingers intertwining with your warm ones. Your body remembers her touch, relaxes and leans into it automatically. You eat it hungrily, tracking the movement before your eyes rise to meet hers and find soft, open eyes watching you. “I want to make you fall in love with me again.”

Your breath catches in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand shakes in hers.

“And this time, I promise, I’ll be there to catch you.” 

“We might have a slight problem with that plan.” You laugh, trying your hardest not to sob.

She frowns, nose wrinkling in the way you adore. “What’s that?” 

“It’s pretty difficult to re-fall in love when I never stopped loving you in the first place.” You huff, and Emily laughs, rich and free and bright. Her face joyful and happy, and with the wide bright smile you’ve waited months to feel pointed in your direction. God the sight makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” She asks, hand moving up to cup your cheek, eyes full of love and pointed at you. 

You can only nod, dizzy from her attention and the emotions coursing through your body. 

When her lips find yours it feels like finally coming home. Soft and delicate, both too scared to push too hard, exploring slowing even as her hand holds your cheek and yours fists in her shirt. You’ve waited years for this, and if you get more of these than it will be worth it. Everything is worth it for the feeling of Emily in your arms. 

When she pulls away, it’s too soon. You follow her mouth and she concedes and gives you a couple more slow kisses before she stops herself, resting her forehead against yours.

“I just want to say sorry for earlier.” She whispers into the safe space you’ve built. “You were right, I was scared when you got hurt. Dave’s already kicked my ass for my response, you won’t receive any disciplinary action.”

You nod slightly, her forehead moving against yours, “Thank you.” 

“It won’t happen again.” She promises, sealing the words with a kiss to your lips. 

“I know.” You kiss her again, but this time you break out into a yawn midway through. Your momentarily forgotten exhaustion, making itself known. 

She melts against you, caressing your cheek. “Oh, you need to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. I’m taking you out for dinner.” 

You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to take over your face, “A date?” 

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yes, a date. But only if you sleep first.” 

“Your wish is my command.” You can’t stop the grin from taking over your face anymore. You press a peck to her lips and lead her back towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.” She agrees, eyes fluttering over your face as if she’s committing every aspect to memory. “Sleep well.” 

“You too.” 

She presses one last kiss to your lips before she opens the door and makes her exit. You close the door quietly behind her, sinking back into it and allowing the giggle to finally escape your mouth.

What the fuck had just happened. 

Emily Prentiss kissed you. 

Emily Prentiss has feelings for you. 

You weren’t alone.

You bite your lip and push off the door, finally ready to get ready for bed and praying come morning that this would still be your reality.

taglist: @aburman03

[hiramaris]

I'm gonna request something for haley bc i love how you write her and not so obsessed. im not sure if you are writing for request? but im gonna give my shot

a prompt where haley as wife, and the farmer was late passed midnight because of mining shit. and almost died (lmao). she got home safely, but limping with her wounds and bruise. then there's haley, saw her wife barely walking and her reaction, just comfort, fluff, worried and taking care of the farmer.

that's all, thanks, no pressure <3

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 7

Chapter Summary:

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: violence, blood

Notes:

thanks to anon for being the first-ever reader to request a prompt. I initially thought to make a separate fic for this one but I realized why not make it as a new chapter? There would be some adjustments to the prompt, instead of Haley being the farmer's wife, she'd be somewhere in between a friend and a woman struggling to put a name to what she's feeling with the farmer. I'm really sorry anon for not following the route you're hoping for but I do hope you'll like this one.

Summer 9

The sound of thunder clapping from above her made it difficult for sleep to come that night. Despite the late hour, the darkness outside was illuminated intermittently by flashes of lightning, casting eerie shadows across the walls of her room.

Rain drummed steadily against the glass, a constant reminder of Yoba's fury. The room felt oppressive, suffocating almost, as if the storm had seeped its way indoors, invading her sanctuary.

She had always hated rain. Well, the main reason is it's horrible weather for a dashing photographer like her. Not only does it ruin her hair that she spent all morning fixing, but it could also ruin her equipment. Oh, did she also mention it gives an awful lighting?

She also shares the same level of dislike for storms because they destroy the calmness of rain. It's aggressive, cold, and destructive.

That's why the moment the news announced there would be a storm for the next three days, she was quick to stock every little favorite snack she could think of because there was no way she was waltzing outside in that kind of weather.

Haley popped out a tired eye as she looked at the clock beside her.

1:56 AM.

Oh, joy it's almost two in the morning. How in Yoba's name could she go outside with bags under her eyes probably heavier than all of Emily's hippie gems combined?

'I mean– there's always a concealer,' she thought but quickly dismissed the idea.

She has been minimizing her makeup since... since whatever (when you told her she looked prettier even without them) PLUS with summer's sweltering heat, layering on cosmetics seemed suffocating.

With a groan, she pushed herself up from the bed, determination flashing in her tired eyes as she made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of milk, hoping that this little solution would finally give her the sleep she'd been craving for.

But as she reached for the milk, a cacophony outside shattered the stillness of the night. Haley froze, her heart pounding in her chest. It's kind of hard to tell with the harsh rain and thunder and everything.

As if to confirm that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, a set of audible coughs echoed just behind the door. Haley's heart thumped so loud she was afraid it might come out of her chest.

That could only be an intruder.

In Haley's sleep-deprived mind, she didn't stop to even realize that Pelican Town had never experienced a robbery in the dead of night. Instead, she quickly bolted to her room, grabbing Alex's old baseball bat he had left here one time, not even having the presence of mind to wake up Emily to face this 'intruder' together.

****

Spoiler alert, it wasn't an intruder but an idiotic farmer covered in dirt and unbelievably wet from the rain.

You were holding your rucksack close to your chest for dear life with your sword held tightly by your other hand when Haley found you slumped against the door.

"What the hell are you doing outside at this hour and in this weather?" was the first words she uttered when her eyes spotted you. She was quick to help you up and bring you inside, not even minding the mud and water accumulating from where you stood.

When you didn't respond, Haley met your eyes.

Haley's heart nearly stopped at the sight beyond her. Without being hidden by the darkness, she could finally see your whole state.

There standing is the farmer herself. Your white hoodie was tattered and looked burned. Your hoodie's sleeves are ripped too up to your upper arms, and your left arm has a cut with fresh blood still gushing out of it.

You were missing the other pair of your shoes, and your hair was disheveled and covered with slime. You even had multiple scratches and scrapes all over your body. Your right cheek has some small scratches, and blood is rushing out of the wound on your forehead.

"Yoba..." Haley's voice was barely a whisper as she gently cupped your cheeks, careful not to aggravate your wounds. Her eyes flickered to the gash on your forehead, blood still seeping from the wound. "What happened, Y/n/n? We need to get you to Harvey!"

You shook your head weakly, struggling to stand upright. "No... H-harvey," you protested, your voice strained. "H-he'll kill me."

"Y/n!" Haley's arms enveloped you in a tight embrace as you nearly stumbled over her. She wanted to reprimand you, to demand answers, but the rush of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart against her chest prevented her from doing so.

For now, she needed to make sure you were okay.

You only grunted in response as you gave in to her, allowing her to guide you onto the cushions.

"I'm just gonna get a towel and the first aid." Her lips trembled as she said those words.

In record time, she was able to get everything she thought you'd need, afraid if she missed any more seconds you wouldn't be breathing.

When she returned to the living room, she almost went ballistic when she spotted your form unmoving from your seat.

"Y/n! Wake up, for Yoba's sake! Don't you dare die on—" Haley's words caught in her throat as you rasped out a response.

"...oh, look an angel," you managed with a small grin, your tired eyes fluttering open.

Haley couldn't help but smile softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Very funny," she replied, relief flooding through her as she saw you conscious, if only barely.

Wordlessly, she draped a towel over you, tucking it gently to ensure you stayed warm. It was the same blanket she used during storms like this when she felt cold herself.

With a purposeful stride, she made her way to the fireplace, adding more wood to the fire in hopes of warming you further.

"Keep your eyes open, please? I'm just gonna get some rags to clean up your wound," she requested gently.

She placed the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of you before heading to the kitchen to gather clean rags and a sponge.

Returning to the living room, she filled a bowl with tap water and carried it carefully as she made her way back to you.

With great tenderness, Haley cautiously wiped the blood from your body with the sponge, dampening it in the tap water she had prepared. She winced as the color of the water turned red.

"You lost too much blood," Haley commented, masking the shakiness of her voice. She wasn't a great fan of blood but she was not naive with treating minor injuries either. She silently thanked Yoba for letting Emily force her to learn a thing or two about first aid.

You only grunted in response to her observation.

"What happened, Y/n?" She couldn't hide the worry in her voice even if she dared try. "I should call Harvey and get you to the clinic."

You groaned as she accidentally applied too much pressure to your wound. "No... it's okay. It's n-nothing, I'm fine."

"These serious injuries don't shout nothing, Y/n. What the hell happened?"

"'I went to the mine..." you explained, and Haley waited expectantly for you to continue.

"It's storming."

"I know..." You couldn't look at her in the eye. "It's just that there's not much going on in the farm so I thought I should continue my expeditions in the mine. I thought it would be safe but..."

"But it wasn't." Haley couldn't helped but deadpan.

You visibly winced, unsure if it was because of your wounds, Haley's biting remark, or just both. "I heard from Marlon I could find rare items once I reached the hundredth floor, which I did," you explained, tapping your rucksack beside you. "But I should have known better that those items are rare for a reason. Not because they're hard to find, but because they're hard to acquire. Once I got hold of this baby," you gestured to your bag, "the whole cave was swarmed by slimes and shadow people."

"What?" Haley's voice sputtered with disbelief, her brows furrowing in concern. "Shadow people? I thought they were just myths!"

You tried to nod in confirmation, but Haley kept a firm hand on your cheeks, preventing the movement. "Uhuh, they're very real," you affirmed, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "And I can say they aren't really fond of us humans and, uh, dwarves I think. They're more scared of me than intimidating. I tried not to, y'know, hurt them."

"That's a stupid idea."

"I know," you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor. "But given our history with them, I didn't want to give them any more reason to hate us. Plus, I was the one invading their homes."

Haley let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping with weariness. "Still, you should have fought back. What if they had killed you in there? How would we have known you were down there and rotting? You're the only one crazy enough to go down there anyway."

You didn't speak after that, and Haley mistook that as compliance. She was too busy fuming at your lack of self-preservation to notice the frown creasing on your features.

After managing to cleanse the visible injuries of your body, she began to grab some clean rags to apply some pressure on your forehead and your forearm to keep your bleeding to an absolute minimum.

She cursed softly under her breath, trying to think of what to do next.

"…Y/n? Y/n, wake up, stop sleeping," Haley's voice was quiet, her tone laced with urgency as she gently tapped your cheek.

Your eyes pulled themselves open and looked tiredly at her. "Hn?"

"I need you to sit up straight and pull your hoodie off. What do you have underneath?" Haley's words were gentle but firm as she carefully supported your shoulder and hip.

"…just a tank top."

Slowly, you strained to sit upright, wincing with discomfort. Haley could tell from the way your grip tightened on her wrist that you were not comfortable sitting for very long.

With Haley's assistance, you managed to pull your hoodie off, careful not to aggravate any wounds. Once the clothes were removed, Haley's eyes lingered on the minor cuts just below your chest, blood still seeping from the wounds. She grabbed the sponge again, gently brushing away the blood from your cuts.

After cleansing the wounds, Haley applied alcohol and antibiotics, causing you to grunt in discomfort. No words were exchanged as she skillfully wrapped bandages around your forehead, forearm, and abdomen. She then helped you into warmer clothes she found in her wardrobe, her movements gentle and reassuring.

"How do you feel?" Haley bit her lip, anxious. Honestly speaking, she wasn't confident in her abilities to treat injuries, so she anxiously awaited your response, hoping she hadn't made things worse.

"…I'm alright now," you rasped, your voice hoarse with exhaustion. "…thank you, Hay."

Haley felt a wave of relief wash over her at your words. Your face had regained some color compared to earlier when you looked as pale as a ghost.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she questioned tentatively. "I'll whip you up some tea and soup."

You swallowed gently and nodded your head.

"I'll be back soon then. Rest. I'll wake you when your soup is done."

****

About twenty minutes later, Haley went back into the living room, a tray in her hands. She found you sprawled on the couch (thankfully not moving too much), embracing your rucksack in your arms once again. She wanted to question what was inside and why you couldn't part with it so much but decided to make sure you were okay first.

The things she does for you.

She placed the tray of food on the coffee table and sat beside you, taking in your sleeping form.

"Y/n/n? Food's ready," Haley said softly, tapping your thigh to rouse you from your slumber.

Startled and kind of a forced of habit, you tried to sit up straight. Thankfully, Haley was fast enough to stop you.

"Don't get up. | don't want to wrap your wounds again," Haley admonished, her tone firm.

She grabbed a pillow and propped it behind your back to elevate your head slightly. As she picked up the bowl of chicken soup, she could feel your eyes on her.

"I can feed myself, Haley. Thank you," you finally spoke. Haley's eyes met yours briefly before she averted her gaze, a flicker of emotion passing over her features.

"Clearly, you aren't capable of feeding yourself. Stop being a baby and let me do this."

Your eyes settled on her for probably a full minute before you sighed in resignation. Despite the hardened gaze she probably wore on her face, Haley gently placed a spoonful of soup in your mouth.

"I know you can, Y/n," Haley spoke after a few moments. "But you lost too much blood already, I don't want you to bleed again."

"I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble," you uttered softly.

Haley paused and finally looked at you, like, really looked at you properly this time. Since you had arrived covered in mud and blood, she had been operating on autopilot, with only one mission: ensuring you were okay. It's the only thing running through her mind, leaving no room for anything else. Mainly, she hadn't thought about the impact of her words.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's no trouble. I'm just..." Haley paused, thinking about what words to use without giving away that she cared too much. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

Once you had finished eating, Haley placed the empty bowl down and reached for a damp cloth. Brushing away a stray lock of your hair, she gently wiped away a few drops of blood and dirt, her touch surprisingly gentle. She was so focused on her task that she didn't notice you watching her quietly, your expression softening as she attended to the blemish on your face.

"Haley..." you called softly, breaking the silence. Haley looked down at you, her eyes startled. A small, appreciative smile graced your lips as you continued, "Thank you."

Haley couldn't help but smile in return. Sometimes it's hard to stay mad at you. "You can thank me by resting and making sure this won't happen again."

You chuckled softly as you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow once more. "No promises."

Seeing that you were getting sleepy, Haley quickly gathered the empty bowl and cup and placed them in the sink. When she returned, she extended a hand to help you up, much to your confusion.

"Come, let's get you to my room."

"Haley," you protested weakly. "I couldn't possibly impose more than I already have."

"Shut up. I won't let an injured woman sleep on the couch, Y/n."

Despite your protests, Haley managed to convince you to agree with her proposed setup. While Haley wasn't entirely keen on sleeping on the couch herself, it's not like she has a choice on the matter. The cushion is uncomfortable as hell, it's like sitting on a pile of bricks. That's more than enough reason to let you sleep on her bed. Plus, with the mess and worry weighing on her mind, she doubted she'd be able to sleep anyway.

She was about to leave to clean the mess in the living room when she finally sat you down on her bed, but a hand stopped her.

"…have you seen my bag, Hay?"

"Oh, that? Do you want me to get it for you?"

"No, no. Thanks but I can get it myself." You made a move to stand but Haley kept a firm grip on your shoulder.

Haley frowned. "You can't barely even stand. Do you think I'm gonna let you walk by yourself? What's in the bag anyway? I'll get it for you."

"I'm wounded, not disabled–" you tried to say but Haley only raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to finish your sentence. You sighed when you realized that you wouldn't win against her again. "It's... it's a gift."

"For whom?" Haley couldn't help but ask. Who could you possibly want to give a gift that you almost died just to get it?

Was it for Penny? Haley heard she liked gems as well. Or was it Maru? If she could remember correctly, tomorrow's her birthday and she seemed to like everything you can find in caves. This totally makes sense.

But why did her heart clench at the thought? More importantly, how did she even remember all this information when she didn't care about them at all?

Before you could respond, Haley left the room to retrieve your rucksack. She felt like she didn't need to hear the answer to her question.

When she returned, she wordlessly handed the bag to you, prepared to leave the room once more. However, your voice stopped her in her tracks.

"It's for you."

She turned, mouth agape. "What?"

"It's for you." You smiled warmly as you held out a familiar-looking crystalline gem, about the size of a palm, emitting a dazzling array of colors.

Haley's initial surprise quickly turned to dismay as she recognized the mineral. Her frown deepened, and a flicker of discomfort passed through her eyes at the sight of it. She knew what it was, and just the thought of touching it made her feel physically ill.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned at her sudden change in demeanor.

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

"I..."

"Keep it," she said with finality. "Good night, Y/n."

With a curt nod, she turned on her heel and stormed off, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the room as she left.

****

She shouldn't have said that. She knows she shouldn't have but she was just so worried she couldn't control anything else spouting from her foul mouth.

She hated how she caused the light in your eyes to die down. Hated the way you weren't able to say anything else. Hated the way she just couldn't probably express her worries properly.

Now you probably thought she hated your guts.

Which is far from the truth. Kind of the opposite actually but she's far too tired and confused to delve into her feelings further at the moment.

It's true she doesn't share the same passion for gems and rocks as her sister Emily, and people will generally thank someone who will give them a prismatic shard because for one, they are pretty, she's not gonna lie about that. Secondly, they're super rare and by extension, expensive.

Haley just couldn't bring herself to appreciate it in the same way.

She hated them with passion. And she hated people assuming she liked shiny things because of her personality.

While it's true she's kind of materialistic, it was a trait ingrained in her from years of her parents trying to compensate for their absence by showering her with gifts.

She didn't like being materialistic, but she's so used to it that it's hard to stop.

And she hated how you seemed to think the same way about her when you thought about giving her a prismatic shard as a gift. That all she ever was were just pretty and expensive gifts.

And she hated how you let yourself get hurt just to give her this.

She hated everything about this.

****

Haley spent the majority of the night cleaning the living room, hoping to tire herself out enough to dull the heaviness and emptiness in her heart. She didn't know it was possible to feel both at the same time, but there she was, experiencing it firsthand, and she despised every moment of it.

And she hated herself more now because she found herself padding her way towards her room. Her steps faltered when she saw you peacefully sleeping on her bed. A gentle smile touched her lips at the sight of your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Unable to resist, Haley approached you quietly. She carefully tucked you in, a tenderness in her actions that betrayed the turmoil in her heart. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your bandaged forehead, a gesture she had learned from her late grandmother.

"To kiss the pain away," her grandmother used to say, and Haley found solace in that belief.

With one last caress of your cheek, Haley settled onto the foot of her bed, a magazine in hand, silently hoping for the sun's rays to finally peek behind the horizon by her room's window.

****

Haley woke up surprisingly lacking any back pains. She didn't feel sleep-deprived either.

Wait—

How'd she get in her bed? You're supposed to be– Oh.

She sat up straight when she realized she was holding a letter in her hand. Straightening up the almost crumpled paper, she could recognize your handwriting immediately.

Good morning, Haley. Sorry for the disturbance last night, and thank you for taking care of me. It means a lot. I didn't want to impose more than I already have so I excused myself while you were asleep. Thank you again. — Y/n

Haley studied the letter, noting the hastily scribbled handwriting that differed from your usual neat script. She could imagine you rushing to write it just to avoid dealing with her.

It hurt more than she cared to admit. But after what she said to you, who was she to complain?

At this point, it would be a miracle if you still talked to her.

"Good morning, sis!" Emily chirped, her voice echoing through the room as Haley emerged from her room. She sat on the couch, casually knitting what appeared to be another sweatshirt.

Haley's expression was one of mild annoyance as she replied, "It's noon."

"Storm has passed but Caroline canceled, just to be safe," Emily responded, her fingers deftly working the knitting needles as she spoke. "And I know it's noon. Just wanted to emphasize you slept late, little lady."

She glanced around the living room, noting the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, indicating that the day was well underway and the storm had thankfully subsided.

"Why are you here anyway? Don't you have a yoga class to attend to?"

Haley let out a resigned groan, her movements sluggish as she made her way toward the kitchen to avoid further conversation with her sister.

"Just so you know, I saw Y/n/n come out of your room!" Emily called out from the living room, her tone playful yet teasing.

Haley froze mid-step, her grip tightening on the handle of her mug. "Wha—" Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her surprise. "Nothing happened!"

"Of course, nothing's going to happen in that state she's in," Emily retorted.

Haley couldn't ignore the sense of urgency that suddenly gripped her at the mention of your state. You're in no condition to go home all by yourself.

"Just tell me you took her home," she pleaded, her tone softening slightly as she returned to the living room.

Thankfully, Emily's too caught up with her work to notice that brief slip-up of vulnerability Haley rarely shows.

"I volunteered actually, but Penny saw us on our way and insisted she could do the job," Emily explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

"And you agreed?!" she sputtered incredulously.

"Of course, I would!" Emily readily defended. "She volunteered!"

Haley's sigh was heavy as she sank down onto the couch next to Emily. "You should have woken me up."

She could feel Emily's eyes settling on her as if trying to decipher what's got her so distressed.

"I tried, but Y/n/n won't let me. Said you needed the sleep," Emily finally answered after a few moments of silence.

"You're unbelievable." Haley couldn't help but massage the bridge of her nose at Emily's casualness about the situation as if seeing a heavily injured farmer waltz out of Haley's room was just a normal occurrence. "I suppose she told you what happened then?"

"Uh-huh. Accident in the mines, right? And she went here instead to the clinic because Harvey would kill her once he saw her state." Emily chuckled, her tone light as if discussing the weather. "He just literally told her last time to take it easy."

Haley blinked in disbelief. "And how do you know this?"

"Everyone knows this, Haley." Emily looked at her as if wondering why she didn't know this piece of information. "It's practically a common thing to see Y/n/n passed out outside in the morning."

Haley's brows furrowed in frustration, her mind racing with thoughts. Of course, she doesn't know this. If she would have known, she would have told you to take it easy. Hell, she'll help with farming if it will make things easier for you. This thing where you pass out and overwork yourself shouldn't be normalized. Actually, if anything—

She stopped herself from this line of thinking because why the hell was she even considering helping out with your farm when she, in fact, hated dirt?

"She also told me how you stepped up and helped her," Emily continued, her voice pulling Haley back to the present moment. She felt Emily's hand pat her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I saw she's well-cleaned up. I'm proud of you, sis."

Haley forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. I'm not proud of what I did, Em.

*****

Summer 10

The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange as Haley sat alone on the shore, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the sand providing a soothing rhythm to her troubled thoughts. She had come here seeking solace, the ocean always offering her a sense of peace in times of distress.

The events yesterday had bothered her more than she had let on. She convinced herself you'd understand why she reacted the way she did but a part of herself thinks she should apologize.

But as stubborn as she is, she instead spent the whole day sulking, which is what she did.

She embraced her knees closer to her chest, fingers brushing the bracelet adorning her wrist. It was her great-grandma's, a delicate piece of jewelry passed down through generations adorned in gold and pearl on the middle part. Her grandmother has given it to her instead of her mom because she'd rather wear luxurious things than some hand-me-down jewelry. But Haley loved them, and it's probably the only piece of jewelry she'd ever wear aside from the shell necklace she was wearing now.

It was a ritual of sorts for her, wearing the bracelet whenever she felt sad and alone. It's as if wearing it made her feel like her grandma was with her at this very moment, comforting her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize her bracelet had slipped from her wrist. It wasn't until she reached to adjust it that she felt its absence.

"Oh, no..."

With trembling hands, she combed through the sand, her movements growing more frantic with each passing moment. Her eyes scanned the water's edge, fearing the worst as she desperately sought any glimmer of gold amidst the grains of sand.

No, no... impossible. She made sure she was far enough from the water for that specific reason.

An hour passed with no sign of the precious heirloom, and Haley felt tears welling up in her eyes as desperation threatened to consume her. She practically combed the whole beach for it and still no signs of the bracelet.

She couldn't help but slump back to the sand. She's feeling everything too much.

She's such a useless piece of shit. She couldn't even kept an important heirloom. How the hell can she even keep someone like you in her life?

Everyone's right. She's way up high in the clouds that everything she touches crumbles within her fingertips.

The tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and a sob is rising on her throat.

And just before a tear fell from her eyes, a hand shot up and grabbed her by the shoulder.

She looked up and met a pair of gray eyes staring into her own. The grayish color of your eyes is stark and deep and seemed a little bluish from the illumination of the sun. It almost looked like the sky during spring or the ocean seen from a cruising ship as a cold tundra threatened to ruin the quiet solitude of the season. Your eyes telltale thousands of untold stories with every blink, stories too ambiguous, too dark for any of them to understand. Though not dark enough to feed her thoughts of the midnight sea, of storms and drowning.

Calloused fingertips thumbed mascara stains from her cheeks with such gentleness Haley doesn't think she deserves.

"I'm here," you murmured. "What happened, Haley?"

"I l-lost it," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggled to hold back tears. "My bracelet... it's gone! I know I had it on when I got here... But now it's gone, Y/n and I can't find it anywhere..."

She couldn't help the sob that escaped her as she burrows closer into you. She had probably stained your shirt with expensive make-up and salty tears but she didn't care as she dug her face deeper into your collar bone further and sucks a shaky breath.

"Shh," you soothed, sturdy arms wrapped around her tightened instinctively. "I'll go find it, don't worry."

"I'll never find another one like it..."

"I'm really sorry..." she felt you murmur against her hair. "I'm sure it's just around here somewhere."

"...maybe it'll wash up on another shore," she hiccuped between sobs. "I can't bear to think of it at the bottom of the ocean."

"We'll find it, okay?" you assured her, and Haley swore her heart stopped beating when you planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Stay here. We're not leaving until we find your bracelet."

****

And truth be told you did find it.

After what seemed like an eternity of combing through the sand, Haley's eyes lit up as she spotted the familiar-looking bracelet in your hands.

With a smile so bright it rivaled the sun, you approached her.

"You found it!" she cheered as she run towards you, hopping from the sand and straight to your arms.

You weren't deterred by this and proceeded to secure your arms around her to prevent her from falling.

"Careful there, we don't want to drop it again, do we?" You barked out a laugh but Haley was quick to recognize the grunt of pain in them.

"Yoba, I'm sorry! I forgot you're still wounded!" Haley made a move to let you go but you weren't having any of it. If anything, you hold her tighter. Haley couldn't help but let out a laugh as well as she wrapped her arms around your neck just as firmly. "Thank you so much, Y/n. You're a lifesaver."

"You're welcome," you murmured against her chest. "Here, I'll help you wear it."

You gently set her down, much to her disappointment, and began to fasten the bracelet around her wrist, your actions filled with care and tenderness.

"Thank you, Y/n. Really," she murmured softly. "You're always there whenever I needed you and all you get as a thank you is me being... a bitch to you. I'm sorry."

You frowned. "You're not a... 'b' word. Far from it."

"'B' word,"she scoffed, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips "What are you, twelve?"

"Hey!" you protested in mock indignation. "I can cuss. I just don't want to use it around you. I don't want to get used to it."

Haley's gaze softened drastically. If you keep this kind of consistency around her then Haley's bound to fall hard on her back. And since it's with you, you'd probably made your way to ensure she'll be falling in a pile of pillows and flowers. You're thoughtful like that.

"I'm sorry for giving you that gift yesterday..." you started after a moment of silence. "Let me finish first," you interrupted gently when you saw her mouth open to speak. "I just... prismatic shards are rare to find and I wanted to give it to you because I thought it's something you'd like to photograph."

You took her hand in yours, a tender gesture that made Haley's heart skip a beat, her cheeks flushing slightly at the warmth of your touch. The soft morning light bathed the shoreline in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the sand as gentle waves lapped against the shore.

"But then I realized how it may have looked like to you, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

"Y/n..."

"So I like to try again." Without further explanation, you strode towards the boat beside Elliot's cabin, your steps confident and purposeful, and produced a bouquet of—wait, are those sunflowers?

"No way!" she sputtered as she tried to fight the grin threatening to spill on her face. You're not supposed to look this dashing walking towards her with a bouquet in hand. It's unfair!

"Yes way." you grinned at her as you handed her the flowers, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope I'm forgiven."

"I'm supposed to be the one saying sorry, you dunce!" Haley playfully slapped your shoulders before accepting them. "They're beautiful, Y/n! These are my absolute favorite! Thank you."

"No worries. And if you're free you can take a look at them at my farm."

"You planted them?" Now that she had mentioned it, it sounded like a stupid question. Of course, you planted them yourself, where else can you get these flowers?

But as usual, being the kind and patient person that you are, you only beamed at her and nodded. "Yep! I planted a whole yard."

"For real?"

"For real," you affirmed, your smile widening at her incredulous expression.

"But why? I mean compared to other crops I'm sure sunflowers aren't that profitable."

You shrugged again, your expression softening. "Eh, I wasn't aiming for the profit. I was aiming for your smile."

****

Previous

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A/n: my toes are curling while I wrote this, I hope you felt the same. Anyway, the bouquet of sunflowers isn't the same bouquet that makes Haley your girlfriend. It's just a regular ol' bouquet our farmer has personally crafted because she's a simp for our queen but just too oblivious to see it. Sorry for the delay, I had just finished my clinical recently so I was busy the whole month of April. Hope y'all like this one!

P.S. comments are much appreciated!

THANK YOU FOR 2500 LIKES! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST, SERIOUSLY.

taglist:

@joordynn

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

I'm not sure whether your request box is open or not, but if you do, I want to drop an idea

How about ot8 sleeping habit?

Thankies!

🧠🫶🏻

hehe this was fun... this is all my own personal opinion, not facts or based on anything specific

Bangchan

Sleeps like a Dad- he is ready to wake at any moment, ranging from a faint noise to a kitchen fire. (Most definitely not caused by Felix or Seungmin...)

Usually passes out mid writing session, with his notebook or laptop within arms reach

One of those is most likely being used as a makeshift pillow

Loves to sleep facing outwards on his side, arm tucked under his pillow (or laptop or notebook or other arm because lets be real he probably isn't aslepp in bed)

Likes sleeping outwards because it makes him feel safer, like he could easily spring into action if needed

Rarely moves when he falls asleep from pure exhaustion.

If he falls asleep on normal accord, he moves like a madman

Has a secret stash of hoodies he uses only for sleep

But even then...he likes sleeping naked. Only wears clothes if he's not sleeping at home. (dude literally walks around naked...)

Lee Know

Sleeps like royalty. Perfect posture. Doesn't move.

His cats tend to join him, claiming half the bed, and he does not mind that at all

If his cats don't join him, he'll let out little pspspsp's until at least one comes (and if none of them come he will go to sleep grumpy)

Prefers absolute silence, but if he is tired enough he'll sleep through an earthquake

Tends to sleep talk, but denies vehemently that he does (he knows he does, and he knows its mostly him mumbling about choreography)

Likes to throw his sheets in the dryer to warm them up when he is feeling fancy

Usually takes a while to fall asleep

Wakes up at least once a night

Usually its because he gets a paw up a nostril

Changbin

Likes to be surrounded by plushy comfy stuff

If he is sharing a bed, radiates warmth and tends to be clung to like a teddybear (he is NOT complaining about that)

He snores, but gets embarrassed if someone mentions it

Always has to shower before bed

Lots of thinner blankets (for some reason he gives me the type to love to be warm but hate comforters?)

Overheats easily thus why he loves the thin blankets he can peel back (he just seems like a warm bodied person)

Likes falling asleep to music but will get really upset if he wakes up with it still on

Seems like he's have a nightlight ngl, not because he is scared of the dark, but because he genuinely can't see for shit in the dark

Wakes up to go pee like three times a night because he'll drink a ton of water (and still continues to drink it even though he just went to the bathroom)

Also occasionally loves a midnight snack

Hyunjin

Dramatic sleeper. Dude is sprawled out everywhere yet somehow it looks artistic

Has to put his hair up or else it will be frizzy in the morning

Tosses and turns because he dreams vividly, often about very random things

Needs the room to smell nice- candles or an essential oil diffuser is a must (typically uses a scent that aids in sleep or health, like lavender or mint if his head hurts)

Opposite of Binnie- he gets cold really easily and needs all the extra comforters he can get

Loves doing before bed skincare. Its almost ritualistic for him. (it helps soothe him)

Like how he has a set routine for skincare, he has a set routine for sleep. Goes to bed and wakes up at the same time everyday

Or at least he tries to. He tends to sleep in a lot on the weekends due to staying up late painting throughout the week

Sometimes, he'll paint things he sees in his dreams (usually pretty abstract)

Jisung

Falls asleep wherever and whenever. No questions asked (has been found by numerous staff just snoozing around the jype building)

Occasionally its due to complete burnout, but usually its just because he likes sleeping

He also tends to have really vivid and random fever dreams (once dreamt of Felix being eaten by a Cheerio and wouldn't allow him to eat cereal for a week)

He talks in his sleep. Full on conversations that don't make sense 97% of the time.

When its actually time for him to go to bed, he has a specific set up for his pillow and singular plushie he needs (one pillow on the right side of the bed, then the plushie and then the second pillow on top of his head as he sleeps- don't ask its just what he needs)

Tends to kick off all of his blankets during his slumber, usually waking up with just his plushie on the bed, both pillows and all covers trashed on the floor

But if someone else is in the bed dude is as stiff as a rock

Usually falls asleep to funny videos, since it helps quiet his mind

Unfortunately, that means he laughs a lot in his sleep which is a bit creepy (scares the shit outta people)

Sometimes things are so funny he'll wake up from laughing so hard.

Felix

Sleeps like a literal baby. Quiet and still.

Enjoys soothing sounds like rain or waves to go to sleep.

Rarely snores

Sometimes wakes himself up with soft giggles (usually its because someone cracked a joke in his dream)

People sleeping next to him say he radiates a calming warmth. Like sleeping next to sunshine.

He usually hugs something while he is asleep, a pillow or a plushie (changbin body pillow ?????)

Likes falling asleep to the room being chilly, but needs it to be warm or else he refuses to leave bed

Meaning he needs to get up in the middle of the night to turn off the fan.

He is the type to "accidentally" steal blankets (he does it on purpose 100%)

Seungmin

The most disciplined sleeper; sticks to a consistent bedtime and wake-up routine no matter how busy his schedule is.

Prefers sleeping on his back with perfect posture, almost as if posing for a photoshoot.

Rarely moves in his sleep, waking up in nearly the same position he fell asleep in. (sometimes its a bit creepy)

Needs complete silence and will actively seek out a quieter spot if his surroundings are noisy.

Hates feeling too warm while sleeping; he often cracks a window or adjusts the thermostat.

Keeps his bed tidy with just one pillow and a light blanket. (its gets too stuffy with too much stuff on the bed)

Occasionally hums softly or sings a lullaby under his breath before falling asleep.

Gets annoyed by anyone who wakes him unnecessarily and isn’t shy about showing his irritation. (jisung is usually the one to wake him up with excited screaming- tied with changbin)

Wakes up refreshed and ready for the day, often teasing others about their grogginess.

Jeongin

Sleeps face down with his arms hugging his pillow tightly, often burying his face in it. (dude is literally close to suffocating himself, more often than not chan rolls him over)

Snores loudly but adorably, puffing his cheeks out as he exhales a snore that sounds like a 6.0 magnitude earthquake.

Loves being bundled up in a mountain of blankets, even if he ends up half-buried under them (again with the suffocation, he stresses chan out)

Wakes up with his hair sticking out in every possible direction, but it is heartachingly cute.

Talks in his sleep occasionally, mumbling random things (most of the time one of his Hyung's names comes up followed by an evil giggle, leaving them paranoid about what their precious maknae is plotting)

Kicks off the covers in his sleep but then immediately searches for them when he gets cold.

Prefers sleeping with the lights off but needs his phone nearby to check before bed.

Wakes up easily if startled but can fall right back asleep like nothing happened.

Usually wakes up groggy but his mood instantly changes at the mention of breakfast (which he finishes in about 4 bites max)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[talkative-raccoon]

can u do more johnny cade x female reader?? I have a request. Sorry if it's a bit hard to follow!! When Johnny's parents are fighting at night, he goes over to readers house and asks her if he can stay the night with her. Then, in the morning, when reader's sibling comes in to say breakfast is ready, they see johnny and reader cuddled up together!! 🙏🙏

Midnight Sky

A/N: Apologies that it took so long!! uh hope you like this!! sorry if it wasnt what u were thinking of and that its so short💔💔 hope u like it tho!! also not proofread sorry for any typos

You were just about to succumb to your well-needed slumber when a loud knock on your window caused a small ring in your ear. Your eyes snapped open, and you snapped up, hand holding your weight. You looked through the window and moved the curtains away wearily. You relaxed once you saw Johnny hanging off your window seal. How he was doing it, you have no clue, but without missing a beat, you jumped up and rushed to unlock and open the window.

He grabbed onto the inside of the window, and you grabbed his forearm, pulling him close and into your room with all your mass and strength. He pulled himself up and stumbled against you once he finally got in. He looked at you and gave you a nervous grin.

"Hey, doll."

You let out a sigh, your eyes fluttering closed and letting out a bretahy chuckle before you opened them again. "Johnny, what're ya' doin' here at this time of the night?" You asked him softly.

He looked down at the ground, almost ashamed, as he steadied himself and stood up. His hand went to the back of his neck to scratch it. "..My folks were fightin' again..thought you'd let me crash here with you?" He questioned.

Your expression softened, and you walked to the window to close and lock it again. "Of course, you're always welcome here," You gave him a sweet smile.

He gave you such an adoring look, you were sure if you looked hard enough, you'd see hearts that appeared. You tredded back to him and raised a hand to cup his cheek. You two stared into each other's eyes for a moment, so glad to just be in the presence of each other. You moved your face closer to his and pressed a kiss to his lips, the kiss so chaste it was almost unreal. You didn't feel real. For a moment, all thoughts of everything else were gone, and all you focused on was him, the feeling of his lips, so excited that you were with him, that you got the chance to experience such joy.

The two of you pulled away from the kiss, warmth flooding your bones as you realized that Johnny chose you as one of the few people whom he trusted.

"Alright, come here. You must be tired." You gently laced his fingers with yours and led him to your bed. You lie down on your best first, then you beckon him to lie on you with your hand. He accepts and slowly lies down on top of you, head resting against your chest. He smiles to himself when he hears your sped-up heart rate.

His eyes end up fluttering shut after a while, surrendering to sleep. You pull the sheets over you two to keep you guys warm. It only takes a few moments for you to follow suit and fall asleep as well.

♡

A hand open up the door and takes a few steps in before stopping. You sense another presence quickly and squint open your eyes that are still aching in sleepiness. Your eyes widen when you find you younger brother standing in the doorway, mouth agape and eyes flicking between you and Johnny.

Johnny sensed your movements and shuffled and sat up, rubbing his eyes when they met with your brothers. His hand stopped and he looked at him nervously. The two of you were like deers in headlights.

Your brothers slowly starts to take his hand off the door and turns his foot away from your room. You lunge at him because that usually means he's going to bolt away.

You guys tumbled to the floor and he tries to claw himself away out from under you. You trap him tightly in your arms. Johnny looks upon you two with confusion.

"Let me go!"

"I'm not stupid! You're going to tell mom!"

"Nu uh!"

You get really close to him and whisper. "You tell mom what you saw and I'll tell mom 'bout all those blades you stole."

"...You wouldn't."

"You tell her and I'm doing it right back,"

He took your words into thought for a moment, and you let go of him. He glared back and up at you while you stood up.

"Breakfest is ready," he announced.

You tun your head to Johnny and give him a small smile. "I'll bring you somethin' up, alright Cakes?"

"Alright,"

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember Me? (Part five)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: after this, I won't be tagging future parts as Rhysand x reader because this is turning into an eris x reader fic. Also, I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this! I'll try my best to be more frequent with updates ❣️

•○🌑○•

A loud squeal broke the silence, waking Y/n from her nap.

She groaned, turning her head, trying to bury her face in the pillow in hopes that it would drown out the noise of laughter and feet chasing around the house.

It was useless.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes before she squinted at the window, trying to gauge how long she had slept. The sun was high overhead when she had gone to sleep, and judging by its position now, she had slept for an hour at best.

Standing, she stretched. She looked around the room once as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun before she went downstairs.

The noise became louder and louder as she descended the stairs. Fin came running towards her, his little body slamming into her legs making her wobble dangerously. By the time she had regained her balance, he came into view.

At some point, he had discarded his heavy embroidered tunic, choosing to stay in the simple inner white shirt he wore. The shirt was thin, almost sheer, and a simple rope crisscrossing over Eris's chest held the garment together.

His gaze rose from Fin's body to Y/n's eyes, his grin faltering as he slowed down, panting. He gave her a quick once over, his eyes flickering to hers again. But then he grinned, returning his attention back to Fin.

"May I ask what the two of you are doing?" Y/n gently ran her fingers through Fin's soft white hair, slightly damp with sweat, her other hand resting on his shoulder.

He grinned up at her, his chin resting on her stomach as his hands clutched at her dress tightly. "We are playing. He is a soldier and I am the criminal. After he catches me, I will become the soldier and he the criminal."

Y/n smiled. "Are you not tired?"

Fin shook his head vigorously, his eyes sparkling.

Eris cleared his throat. Both mother and son looked at him. "I was wondering... if I could take Fin out?"

Y/n cocked her head. "Why?"

Eris shrugged. "I just thought it would be fun."

Y/n studied Eris.

It had been almost a month since that night when he had showed up at her door at midnight, and so far, he'd visited Fin almost everyday. Y/n was still trying to figure out why Eris was so interested in her son. She couldn't, for the life of her, make sense of Eris.

But his intentions didn't seem bad, so that was... a good thing?

Finally, she nodded, sighing. "Go. Have fun."

The hope on Fin's face turned into joy, and he turned to Eris with the biggest grin on his face. Eris returned it, grabbing the little boy's hand and sprinting off towards the living room.

"We'll be back soon!" Eris called out, and Y/n watched as he buttoned the last button on his tunic and led Fin out of the house. Or rather, Fin dragged Eris out of the house, the red haired male laughing at the youngling's enthusiasm.

A small smile bloomed on Y/n's face, and she had to make a conscious effort to wipe it off her face as she set to make dinner.

•○🌑○•

Y/n paused with her teacup midway to her mouth as a knock sounded on the door. It hadn't been all that long since Fin and Eris had left, and she wondered if it was them. By the excitement in Eris's eyes, Y/n had figured it would be quite some time before they returned.

The knock came again, more confident this time, and Y/n rushed to stand from the couch. "Coming!"

She set her cup on the center table, walking briskly towards the door.

And then she opened the door.

Which was honestly not the best choice, she decided as soon as she got a glimpse of who stood on the other side. She wondered if it would have been better if she just pretended that no one was home instead of screaming to let her guest know she was coming.

The only thing that kept her from slamming the door shut in his face was his appearance.

He looked like he'd been through hell.

And if Y/n was the one saying it, then it was a serious issue, because she had seen him go through literal hell under the mountain. She had seen him at his worst, and she still had never seen him this haggard.

She studied him, her hand tightening on the door handle.

There were dark circles under his eyes, so dark they made him look a little pale. Or maybe he had gone pale. His eyes were tired, no light in his those beautiful purple orbs Y/n had once adored so much.

"Y/n..."

The hoarseness in his voice snapped her out of the haze that had fallen over her, and she began to close the door.

But she couldn't do it because Rhysand's hand snapped out, his palm flat against the wood of the door. "Please, Y/n, I just want to talk. Please."

The sadness, the guilt in the once smooth, now rough voice gave her pause.

She wondered what to do. Her heart told her to let him in, not only into the house but in her and her son's life. Her brain scoffed at her heart's pathetic response and told her to slam the door shut in the bastard's face.

After a moment of contemplating, she decided to let him into the house, and her brain shook its head at her.

But the grateful look in his eyes prompted her to ignore her sane mind.

She shut the door behind her, watching quietly as Rhysand took in the toys lying haphazardly throughout the room, the papers drawn on with crayons, the chocolate stains on a shirt of Fin lying nearby. Y/n hadn't even noticed the shirt lying there. Maybe Eris had changed Fin's clothes when Y/n was sleeping.

She watched as Rhysand swallowed, his throat bobbing. There was so much emotions swirling in his eyes, Y/n had the urge to pull him in for a hug and never let go, whispering promises of forever and a family in his ear, just like before.

Just like before, when Feyre hadn't existed in their lives and it was just the two of them, keeping each other alive and sane under the mountain.

Y/n sighed, pushing those thoughts away. She couldn't think like that. She wouldn't.

The expulsion of air from her made Rhysand turn around, sadness and a plea in his eyes. Maybe a little tint of hope, but Y/n decided she did not see it.

"What did you want to talk about?" She muttered, wrapping her arms across her chest.

A small smile curled Rhysand's lips, one that didn't meet his eyes and told Y/n that it was a ruse because he was trying to not break down.

She could read him like a book, but maybe that's what happened when you spent almost half a century with someone.

"Straight to the point, eh? What happened to hellos and how are yous?"

Y/n gave him an unimpressed look, and he sighed. "i... I'm here to beg for forgiveness. I'm sorry."

That made Y/n roll her eyes and she straightened from where she was leaing against the counter behind her and made to turn away.

But suddenly a muffled thud sounded, and Y/n whipped her head towards where Rhys had fallen to his knees, his eyes wide and pleading, filled with tears. Her eyes widened, unchecked shock coursing through her.

She knew he would never go to his knees for anyone or anything other than his court, knew how much significance the tattoos on his knees held.

He lifted his hands in front of his face, shaking so badly that Y/n had the urge to hold them and never let go.

"What are you doing?" She asked, holding her heart on a leash.

The tears began streaming down his cheeks and his lip wobbled, staring up at her as he opened his mouth to speak. "Please forgive me. Please. I havent been able to slep or eat or do anything since we met that day. I cant think of anything except you and Finnian. please Y/n, forgive me. please."

"Rhys... we talked about this. You can't just waltz back into my life as you see fit. Where were you when i needed you? Where were you when Fin needed you? Why are you back now? It can't be because Fin is your- your son. You already have another one."

Rhys opened his mouth, but a sob escaped instead of words.

And Y/n's heart shattered right alongside the broken voice in which he spoke next. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I need you Y/n, I need you back."

Y/n dropped to her knees too, settling back on her heels as she stared at him, horrified. "What?"

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I still love you. I never stopped."

Y/n laughed without humour. "And what about Feyre? Huh? Is she disposable to you? Are all females disposable to you, oh mighty high lord?"

Rhysand winced. "Y/n please."

And then the leash on Y/n's anger snapped, and she snarled at rhys. "Please what rhys? Please what? Come back to you, even though you are mated, married and a father?"

"Yes!" Rhys snapped back at her, leaving her stunned. She was more shocked of the answer than his tone.

She blinked slowly, a tear slipping out of her eyes as she stared at Rhys's panting form, his eyes furious. "Yes, I fucking want you to come back to me. I am ready to leave everyone and everything behind to give my life, my time, my everything to you."

"You are telling me to destroy another female's, another child's life just so I could have you?" Her voice was no longer loud. It was soft as a feeling of resignation spread through her.

Nodding, he crawled forward, towards Y/n, making her scoot back until her back was against the wall.

"Rhys..." She whispered, trying to get his attention for long enough to tell him to get lost, but his eyes that had been staring into hers were now fixated on her lips. She pulled her knees to her chest as she monitored his every movement, her heart beating in her throat.

"Rhys." This time he met her gaze, and she was shocked to find hunger in that violet gaze.

He prowled closer on all fours, simply staring at Y/n the whole while.

When he was practically on top of her, he leaned forward, one of his hands rising to cup her cheek. "Y/n..."

"No..." She muttered on an exhale, but she couldn't do anything to stop him. It was as if someone had gotten into her mind and was forcing her to stay still.

But no matter how much she protested, she still wanted him. Wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, to be with her and to be hers. Only hers. She didn't want to share him with any human turned fae filth.

No. No. No. This is not what I think. What is going on?!

His face was inches from hers, his eyes searching her eyes as his face lowered, only a few inches between them. A hairsbreadth between them. And then finally, finally-

A loud knock on the door jolted Y/n, making her flinch. It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped onto her head, making her realise she was about to let Rhys back in.

Rhys growled, deep and low as his head swung towards the door. But then he froze, his head turning back towards her, slowly, his feral eyes meeting hers. Betrayal swirled in them, and something like guilt climbed up Y/n's throat.

He had smelled who was out there, and he was not happy. "What is he–"

She didn't give him a chance to finish, pushing him away with her hand on his chest as she climbed to her feet from her position on the floor and stalking towards the door. He made a sound of frustration behind her, and it prompted her to open the door quicker.

Eris smiled at her as soon as the door was open, Fin asleep in his arms, one of his hands holding a number of bags Y/n didn't bother to count.

She swallowed as he made to step inside. She hesitantly stepped aside as he began speaking. "We would have been out for longer, but then Fin was getting tired, and he also fell and scraped his knee. As soon as I picked him up, he fell asleep."

Eris shook his head, a soft smile on his face.

But then he stilled, his head twisting to look at where Rhys was now standing, glaring daggers at him.

If looks could kill, both the males would be dead, because both of them stared at each other like their mother was killed with a stick, and neither of them backed down.

"What are you doing with my son?" Rhys spoke in a deadly voice, prowling up to Eris like the predator he was.

Eris, to his credit, didn't waver. "Something you are not doing for your son."

Rhys snarled, lunging across the space between him and Eris, his hands outstretched towards Fin's sleeping form.

In a moment of panic, she threw herself in front of Rhys, and he jerked to a stop, his eyes blazing.

"Get away from him Y/n." Rhys snarled.

Y/n shook her head. She turned, meeting Eris's eyes, silently pleading.

Eris's own eyes were filled with deadly intent, but he quietly handed Fin over to his mother.

Y/n walked away from the two fuming males, not wanting anything to do with their bullshit. She knew both of them were pissed and not in their right minds.

But when were males in their right minds?

She gently set Fin on his bed, trying her best not to jostle him. And then she walked out, closing the door behind her. If the two males out there decided they were going to be having a screaming match, she would rather not have her son hear it.

When she walked out, she found the two of them still glaring at each other, but now there was a little more space between them.

As soon as they felt her, they whipped their heads to look at her. She could feel both their eyes following her every movement as she went and stood near Eris. Not near enough to touch, but enough to make a point.

That she trusted Eris more than her former lover.

Rhysand looked like he was about to go on a murder spree, but before he could do that, Y/n spoke.

"Leave."

Rhys laughed, begining to stalk forward. "no."

When he was close, he reached out his hand to her fsce, as if he was going to grab her.

But his touch never came.

Baceuse Eris had pushed his hand between the two of them and was having an intense staring match with rhys.

"She told you to leave."

"And I said no." Rhys muttered, eyeing the hand in front of Y/n.

"She. Told you. To leave. You don't want me to repeat myself."

Rhys lifted his eyes to Eris, then to Y/n. She looked away, her hand instinctively reaching towards Eris.

She realised it a little late. She was trying to shield herself from Rhys.

Rhys laughed again, a deranged sound.

"You will regret this Eris Vanserra. I will make you regret it." Then, in a voice that would have made greater men piss themselves, he mumbled. "I banish you from the night court. Leave while you still can. You have till sunset to leave, and if after that you still haven't left, I will hunt you down like the animal that you are and bathe in your fucking blood."

And then, Rhys simply stalked up to the door, nearly ripped it from its hinges, and walked out.

Eris then turned to Y/n and silently pulled her into his arms.

She let him.

And she let down walls keeping her emotions in check.

She clutched his shirt in her fingers as if she'd die if she ever let go, and cried and cried and cried until she couldn't anymore.

And before long, she heard the whispered words in her ear.

"Come with me to autumn court. Let me take care of you."

•○🌑○•

Part 6

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta

[orangez3st]

Roomie Advantages

ARC Trooper Fives × F!Platonic!Reader 

✧ Summary: You're dead exhausted after a family event. Luckily your roommate Fives is a domestic life kinda guy in training.

✧ Tags & Warnings: roommate au, platonic relationship, brief talk about sex, quality time, silly roommate dynamics, this one is less feely and immersive from usual bcs i too am exhausted irl, the war is over and everything's good but the details are vague au

✧ Word Count: 2.1k

✧ A/N: Ah a surprise x reader drop! Less immersive this time, more like for self indulgence purposes. I didn't quadruple check this, but enjoy all the same you guys. Guess who just got home from a Lunar New Year gathering and whipped up a self indulgence platonic fic instead of working on another priority WIP and/or sleeping? Also I wrote this half awake.

✧ Inspired by @/hellfiresky's Fox platonic fic (vod it's crazy good I'm obsessed).

Read on AO3 | divider by me

Fives takes his headphone off – the upbeat music fading away and still ringing through the cushions thanks to its blatantly loud volume – and that's when he catches the shower running. 

Oh good, you're home. You were gone for an annual family gathering today, leaving him alone to look after your apartment and its shared spaces. It's nearing midnight, and he was just getting worried if you were kidnapped on the way home or something.

As your roommate, of course he cares. And that he's not a mean person too.

That's what you said in your first meeting with the ARC trooper. It was in one of the clone friendly places below the surface – a Corellian buckwheat noodle shop whose owner is a pro-clone and gives 70% off for clones – that you happened to haunt as well. He went in with his brothers, got a few spiked soda themselves, and you both met.

“What, you think I look so big and mean with all these pauldrons and extra plates?” he joked, flexing his already beefy arms at you.

You laughed heartily. “Kinda. But I don't think you're mean, Lieutenant.”

That was during the War. And now it's over. The Separatists lost, the former Chancellor was a Sith lord (apparently that means evil Jedi somewhat), and the political movement in the Senate hurriedly circled around oh no there are 6 millions excess of these copy paste expendable dudes because the war is over they're jobless whatever shall we do and of course of course, some rallied to fight for their rights.

And honestly, you're happy for the outcome too.

You've grown soft for these clones, especially Fives and his band of brothers. Thanks to them you're up to date with news around the Grand Army of the Republic. It makes you a little prouder that you're all knowing with all these restricted tea.

The Senate is still working on the bills part by part. The troops get nice things that you can't count but you're grateful enough, but one thing you know is that they aren't allowed to purchase or own their own dwelling under their name yet. So you offer your interest in a roommate to share the rent. Fives is giddy to take it. And with their limited stipend, you volunteer to take on the larger cut.

Fives strides out of his room, clad in hoodie, shorts and socks, and raps on the refresher door.

“Yeah hi,” you reply from the inside as you're lathering your body up with soap. Fives' body wash (a mid branded one just so he's happy for not using GAR bar soap) is just next to yours. “What is it?”

“Need to number one,” Fives says plainly.

“You're kidding me,” you deadpan, slumping, almost wanting to shout and just do it over the sink in the kitchen.

“Yeah I'm kidding.” His mouth splits into his signature shit eating grin. “It's so late though. You want anything?”

You're always touched at the way he always asks about you. He just knows you're tired. He probably can hear how tired you are from behind the door.

But you're smiling, eager to know as you ask back, “Ya making something?”

“I dunno,” he replies, and you hear a little scratching as if he's rubbing the back of his head to release his sheer awkwardness. “Probably not. But offer still stands. You want anything?”

You lift an eyebrow as you think. “I dunno. Water I guess?”

“Hot chocolate?” he offers instead.

You reel your head back slightly at the better suggestion. “Yeah actually that sounds good.”

“Okay.”

Then he's gone.

By the time you complete your shower and put your clothes on (in a similar fashion to Fives' hoodie shorts socks combo because the Coruscanti artificial weather's a bit chilly lately), Fives is already pouring the hot chocolate into two mugs.

“Nice,” you grin, “If you didn't make one for yourself I'm turning on the stove again.”

Fives scoffs, slamming into your shoulder playfully on his way to the sink. “Bold of you to assume I'm doin’ that.” You watch him swirl some water in the used pot. He turns to you again, leaning back against the counter this time. “So? Is the family gathering shit this year?”

You roll your eyes at his pleased and hopeful grin. Ass. “To be honest it's less festive than usual – I have no idea why. Maybe because it's a little later than usual because you just don't expect the annual gathering to start at 1500, do you?’

“I don't have a family to hold an annual gathering with like you but I get your point.”

“Procrastinating, am I right?” you sigh, and your glance still finds Fives listening to you with a surprising amount of attention. A complaint jumps out of your mouth as you continue, a tinge of sadness latches onto your tone, “And they didn't clear out the table for sabacc. I prepped chips for nothing.”

“Aw, poor you,” Fives coos, walking over to your spot, “So you were… what, just talking?”

You sit at one of the high chairs. Fives moves the hot chocolate mugs over. “The house we're at got Spintendo Spwitch installed to the holoscreen. Played SpustDance the whole day, my muscles are all strained.”

Fives snorts as he watches you stretch your arms and roll your shoulders. “How many songs did you play?”

“I think ten or twelve.”

“Dude,” he looks at you, “You don't even dance.”

“Hey there were instructions.”

“I'm expecting high scores.”

“Oh you bet.”

Fives reaches to pat the top of your head in appreciation but you swat his arms away, the ache in your shoulders only worsening. “Ow, Fives you little shit–”

“Oh now you're blaming me.” Stars you just wanna flick that stupid number tattoo out of his skin.

You kick his thigh. He doesn't even flinch. It leaves you a little disappointed as you mumble your complaints into your hot chocolate.

Fives still reaches out to pat you. You don't stop him this time. As you're sipping your drink slowly, mug clutched with sweater paws, you meet his sincere amber brown gaze as you nod your head following his pats – repeatedly, appreciatively. Fives is a handsome guy. Anyone would be lucky to have him, but you're settling comfortably enough having him as a roommate. He helps around a lot.

“You want a massage or something?” he offers, proving your point straight in your face.

You raise your eyebrows.

“Not an expert, but I can relieve some of that tension?” His hand slides down to the back of your shoulders and tries to clutch it, and you feel kinda numb (it hurts everywhere). The frown between Fives' eyebrows has never been that deep so far within the week. “Stars, you're stiff.” He grins teasingly. “Your little gremlin nephews givin’ you trouble? You were really working on those high scores, weren't you? Come on.”

You wait until he turns around to move to the couch before you swat his butt.

“HEY!”

You jump off the chair and follows him to the living room couch with your mug (properly clutched with your fingers instead of your slippery sweater paws). “That massage. Better be good as an apology.”

“Psshh don't worry. It's gonna be good for all you know.” You can hear the smile, so energetic, spilling out of his mouth. He plops down on the couch and pats at his thighs, his gaze silently expectant of you to just follow.

You sprawl across his lap stomach down.

Fives clicks his tongue annoyingly. “Not like that you idiot.”

His beefy thighs meet your exhaling breath before you bite down, drawing a very unmanly surprised yelp out of the ARC.

You look up at him seriously as you complain, “From your position it's not even how those people do it!”

Fives rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Fiiineee you're right.”

He very easily lifts you off his lap before he twists his body around and lands on the rug next to the couch on his knees. “Where do you want me?”

“Backside,” you mumble into the soft cushions of your couch, “Kidding. My arm.”

“I mean I wouldn't refuse.”

You successfully shove a hand into his face and with your palm pressed ingloriously against his lips, his mouth opens and his tongue sweeps across your hand.

“EW GROSS!” you squeal, retracting your hand as if you're touching a burning hot pan. As the little shit throws his head back in satisfied laughter, you can't hold your stupid smile either. You wipe your hand on his blue hoodie. “And you're disgusting.”

Fives lets loose the last of his chuckle as he starts to take your arm, his thumbs pressing and gliding against your tense muscles.

“Oh okay that does feel good,” you mutter as you sink deeper into the couch. Though your position on the couch is shit and probably giving him a little hard time on the angle of approach, plus the pressure is muffled by your hoodie, it still feels nice all the same. You're feeling spoiled and man isn't that just good after an exhausting day acting not being an ass.

“You definitely overdid your SpustDance game today,” complains your roommate again. “If this doesn't work you’ll need a huge orgasm to–” he pats your stiff shoulder “–loosen all these.”

You don't open your eyes. Harmless sex jokes are regulars in your shared space. “Not feeling it this week.”

“Really?” He's surprised. “You're a weirdo.”

“Hey if y'all wanna hit me, do it a week after my period. Promise I'll go feral.”

He scoffs under his breath. “Bet, roomie. Bet.”

It's just weird neither of you has made the move to be steamy. Fives has probably walked in on you changing a handful of times, but he treats it as casually as backing away and muttering sorry loud enough for you to hear. You appreciate that, and you appreciate and bask in the whole lot of friendly comfort he seems to exude all around him. He's one of those disciplined and respected men in the army (you're surprised considering how much of a little shit he is in real life) and you keep up with that.

You cherish this friendship. So much that if he finally earns his rights to get his own place, you don't even want him to move out. Or that it'll take a long time for you to come around the fact. You don't mind his presence, and honestly you just hate how lonely your apartment's gonna be.

What you don't know is that he's feeling the same. Fives is forever grateful that you even wanted to take him in, when many other civilians don't, and he cherishes your friendship just as much, probably a pinch more. He does his shared chores out of duty, treating your apartment as not only merely shared space but his home.

Your presence grounds him in this new life. You guide him the domestic basics; grocery run, laundering his own clothes, cooking, and many others that are relatively new to his skill set list. Fives can't be grateful enough, he thinks, and you're just… there, helping him without expecting so much from him. That's all he needs.

And that he feels the need to just annoy you out of nowhere – out of his fondness and cuteness aggression, really – by climbing onto your back and just flop down on your body.

You wheeze. “KRIFF FIVES YOU'RE HEAVY– GEROFF–”

Fives smiles into your hoodie. “Nah I'm good.”

You relax your body after an attempted squirm to get him off. Oh he's not that heavy. It's actually nice. “Whatever,” you mumble into the couch, total exhaustion and sleep creeping into your now relaxed muscles.

“Yeah?” he asks aloud.

“Uh huh,” you sigh, “Okay bye night I'm dozing off.”

For once he doesn't even protest as if he's the one suffering. You wonder if he's comfy in this position too. “Sweet dreams, roomie,” he plays along, probably playing on his sleepy tone of voice too.

And you know that he's just gonna carry you to your bedroom later. Because he too is a gentleman like that.

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @msmeredithrose

A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided)

[himasgod]

Zhongli x Reader

Where you celebrate the New Year together

Where you spend your first New Year's celebration together as a couple, and he will make sure it is a perfect memory with him that you will never forget.

(HI GUYS, there are only a few hours left, at least in my country, until the New Year! I'm quite excited and I wanted to write this especially for Zhongli because it's also his birthday. I'll also be posting some headcanons about the New Year later. Enjoy!)

The New Year celebration in Liyue was unlike any tradition Zhongli had ever experienced in his vast existence.

Though he knew every historical detail and ritual, this year felt different, more special, because he would be spending it with you.

He had invited you to his home, a modest but elegant residence on the upper part of Liyue Harbor, with a perfect view of the harbor lit by golden lanterns.

When you arrived, he was already waiting for you at the entrance, dressed in his usual elegance, though this time there was something more relaxed in his bearing.

“You’re just in time. I hope the walk here wasn’t too tiring,” he said with a slight smile as he helped you take off your coat.

Inside, the table was set with a carefully prepared dinner, each dish selected not only for its flavor, but also for the symbolism they carried for the New Year: prosperity, longevity, good fortune.

Zhongli, as always, started the evening with a brief explanation of the origins of each dish, his deep, melodic voice filling the space as you listened with a mix of fascination and tenderness.

But what excited you most weren’t the stories, but the small gestures: how he would fill your cup of tea without you having to ask, how his golden eyes seemed to search yours with an intensity that made your heart beat faster.

When dinner was over, Zhongli led you out onto the terrace. From there, the city shone like a sea of ​​golden lights. The air was cold, but he offered you his cloak to keep you warm, wrapping you in it with almost reverent care.

“It’s a time for reflection,” he said, looking out at the horizon. “The New Year symbolizes not only a new beginning, but also the opportunity to appreciate what we’ve built.”

“And you? What do you appreciate this year?” you asked with a smile, expecting some wise, general answer like he usually gave.

However, Zhongli surprised you. His eyes softened, and for a moment, he seemed to choose his words carefully.

“I cherish you,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper, but laden with sincerity. “Your company has reminded me that even in a life as long as mine, there is always room for new joys, for a kind of connection that transcends time.”

The weight of his words took your breath away. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but before you could respond, he took your hands in his.

“The New Year is not just a celebration,” he continued, leaning slightly toward you, “it is a promise. And tonight, I would like to promise you something.”

“What kind of promise?” you managed to ask, your voice trembling slightly.

“I promise that, as long as you allow it, I will stand by your side, not as an ancient Archon, but simply as a man who has found in you a reason to look to the future with hope.”

The bells at the harbor began to ring, marking midnight. Fireworks exploded in the sky, lighting up Zhongli’s face as he leaned closer. His lips brushed yours in a soft kiss, almost shy, but full of meaning.

When he pulled away, his golden eyes met yours, and in them you saw something you’d never seen before: a mix of vulnerability and love.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured, his voice warm against the chill of the night.

“Happy New Year, Zhongli,” you replied,

feeling like there was no better way to start the year than with him by your side.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request, they're opened and would help me so much! <3

[vernons-girl]

what about like your in the car with mingyu at midnight, your just friends but a storm hits and the roads are closed so you go at the nearest motel to stay the night but they only have ONE BEDDDD(suggestive but no smut?)

a blessing in disguise | kim mingyu

fluff, suggestive? (making out and heavy petting),w.c:1k6

a/n: i'm living for the only one bed trope omggg!! i hope you like it <3 (also tumblr literally wouldn't let me post this so please give it lots of love hehe)

You and Mingyu were on one of your usual midnight drives, as the both of you often had clashing schedules, random night drives were the only way for you guys to meet up in the middle of your hectic schedules.

You guys were chatting, laughing, singing along to the music coming from the speakers, all in all, everything was doing great.

Until it started raining. Hard.

The rain pelted against the windshield as Mingyu navigated the car through the deserted roads. Midnight had long passed, and the world outside seemed to have fallen into a deep slumber. Inside the car, however, a tense silence hung thick between you two.

"We should probably turn back," you suggested, glancing nervously at the storm brewing outside.

Mingyu shook his head, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "No way, we've only been out for what? Like 30 minutes? Besides, the storm will pass soon." Mingyu tried to convince you.

You nodded, though you felt a little uneasy. You had agreed to this late-night drive under the guise of friendship, but lately, something had shifted between you two, at least that’s what you felt. Mingyu's laughter seemed to linger a little longer, and you found yourself stealing glances at his figure more often than before.

As if on cue, lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that seemed to shake the very ground they drove on. The car swerved slightly, and Mingyu cursed under his breath, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel so tightly.

"We should at least find somewhere to wait until the storm calms down" you suggested, voice barely audible over the storm.

Mingyu nodded, his expression grim. "There's a motel up ahead. We can wait out the storm there."

The motel appeared out of the darkness, its neon sign flickering ominously in the rain. Mingyu pulled into the parking lot, the tires skidding slightly on the wet pavement. As rushed inside while he held a jacket over you guys’ head to protect you from getting too drench before seeking refuge from the tempest.

The receptionist eyed the two of you warily as you approached, water dripping from their soaked clothes onto the linoleum floor, the jacket had not been that useful, you thought.

"Um, good evening. We.. We need a room," Mingyu said, his voice urgent, handing out his card without a second thought.

The receptionist nodded, handing him a key without a word after handing him back his card. "Room 12," she said, gesturing towards the stairs.

You followed Mingyu up the creaky staircase. The air between you two crackled with tension as you reached the door to your room. Mingyu hesitated for a moment and looked back at you before unlocking it, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway.

The room was small and dimly lit, with a single bed dominating the space. Mingyu cursed under his breath, running a hand through his damp hair. "Looks like we'll have to share," he said, avoiding your gaze.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending the night in such close proximity to Mingyu. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.

“You should go take a shower. Warm yourself up. We’ll have to put our clothes to dry too.” he said.

“Mh, yeah. Right.” you replied, heading to the small ensuite bathroom before jumping into the shower, the hot water almost burning your freezing skin.

Mingyu had taken off his clothes and hung them on a chair to dry, sitting on the bed, waiting for his turn in the bathroom.

After a few minutes, you finally stepped out of the shower and slipped your underwear back on as it was the only thing dry enough to be considered wearable.

You came out of the bathroom holding the towel tightly against your body, only to be welcomed by a half-naked Mingyu. You gulped.

“Your turn,” you simply said, “there’s another towel on the sink.” you added, feeling your face heat up at the unusual scene happening.

“There’s another chair for your clothes.” Mingyu said before standing up, his shoulder brushing against your arm as he stepped into the bathroom to shower.

After putting your clothes to dry, you slipped under the covers since it was so cold in the room.

You could still hear the rain hitting the window and the wind whistling as you waited for Mingyu to come back.

You closed your eyes, trying not to overthink the situation too much, the click of the bathroom door startled you out of your attempt as you caught a glimpse of Mingyu’s body in the doorway, the light behind him darkening his silhouette that was ever so perfect.

He wasted no time in lying down on the bed, over the covers.

“What are you doing ?” you asked “Aren’t you cold?” you questioned upon seeing him slightly shake.

“Yeah but, you know,” he started “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being under the covers with you.” he finally admitted.

Gosh why did he have to be such a gentleman? Your heart swelled at his word before you urged him to get under there before he could die of hypothermia.

You two laid on your backs, trying to keep as much as a distance between your bodies.

Nothing could be heard aside from the storm that was still raging outside.

As the minutes ticked by in the dimly lit room, the tension between you and Mingyu seemed to thicken with each passing second. The storm outside showed no signs of abating, and you couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you both. Despite the awkwardness, there was a strange sense of intimacy in the air, as if the storm had brought forth an unspoken understanding between you.

Mingyu shifted slightly beside you, his warmth seeping through the covers and mingling with yours. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, tempting you to inch closer, to seek solace in his embrace. But you hesitated, unsure of where these newfound feelings would lead.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Mingyu spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen."

You turned to look at him, confusion etched into your features. "What do you mean?"

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I mean... I didn't plan for us to end up in this situation. Alone. In a motel room. With only one bed."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, the implications of his confession sinking in. "I know," you murmured, unable to meet his gaze. "But what are we supposed to do now?" you asked rhetorically.

The back of his warm hand lightly brushed against yours as Mingyu hesitated for a moment before reaching out to gently take a hold of it, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I don't know about you, but... I can't ignore how I feel anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat at his declaration, the words you had been too afraid to say out loud hanging heavy in the air between you.

You turned on your side, facing him with your hand remaining in his before he did the same, your gaze now locked despite the darkness of the room.

His other hand reached out from under the covers to cup your face in his palm.

"I've been trying to fight it, but I can't deny how much I care about you," Mingyu confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Being stuck here like this, it's made me realize that I don't want to hide my feelings anymore."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words, feeling a rush of emotions flood through you. "Mingyu, I... I feel the same way," you admitted, your voice trembling with vulnerability.

He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was afraid of ruining our friendship."

You reached out, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. The electricity between you was palpable as you melted into each other, the warmth of his body pressing against yours as you shared a moment of deep intimacy.

He leaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him by your waist, his touch hot against the expanse of your skin.

As the kiss deepened, all the pent-up emotions and desires came rushing to the surface. Mingyu's lips moved with a hunger that mirrored your own, his hands roaming over your body with a gentle urgency. The world outside seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of being with him.

With each touch, each caress, the barrier between friendship and something more dissolved until there was nothing left but the raw, unbridled passion that simmered between you two. Mingyu's fingers traced patterns along your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

You found yourself tangled in the sheets, your bodies pressed together in a fervent embrace. Mingyu's breath mingled with yours, his heartbeat echoing the rhythm of your own as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming tide of emotion that swept over you both.

The intensity of the moment seemed to drown out the sound of the wind and rain, leaving only the sound of your beating hearts.

After a moment, you finally pulled away from one another, pants coming from the both of you.

Mingyu brushed a few strands of hair before speaking up :

"Maybe this storm was a blessing in disguise," he said softly.

You nodded, your heart racing as Mingyu leaned in closer, closing the distance between you once again. And as the storm raged on outside, you found solace in each other's arms and closure in your relationship, your growing feelings finally laid bare in the darkness of the night.

[lillaydee]

A New Life

Jackson! Joel Miller / OFC

Starting a new life with each other in Jackson seemed to be going well, until it didn't.

Word Count: 15,272

Just one more story that I am uploading for practice purposes - I have many, many completed stories to upload, but am not that used to Tumblr yet, so it will take time to upload all of them - I'm not sure I will actually upload all of them, even. Right now, I'm just uploading the shorter ones for practice - just until I get used to the site. I will continue uploading the two series I have started uploading every other day - using those to practice scheduling stuff on Tumblr.

This fic also contains the very first smut I've ever written. I'm notoriously bad at it - I blush when I type smut out, so I apologize in advance if the smut is not smutting.

Thank you for those who have chosen to read my little mind worms. I appreciate you so much - there are no words.

WARNINGS: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Communication Failure, Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Angst, Fluff, Non-Smutting Smut, Happy Ending.

They decided to tell Ellie the truth. To say she was infuriated was an understatement, remaining silent throughout the journey back to Jackson. When they walked into the now familiar house. Ellie ran straight upstairs, the aggressive slamming of the door rattling the house, maybe for real, or maybe Joel and Madeleine were too in their heads when it came to the teenager’s wrath at them. Maybe they even deserved it. The two looked at each other, resigned to the teenager’s inevitable mood for the foreseeable future.

“You want to take the master?” Joel asked.

“No, I’ll take the room down here”, Maddie replied.

With that, Joel and Maddie went their separate ways to their respective rooms, closing the doors behind them.

Maddie was bone tired. Funny how the fatigue just set in when your body realized you had finally arrived, safe and sound. She didn’t even bother showering before throwing herself onto the dusty bed. Fuck it, she thought. She slept in the dirt for months. A night or two on a dusty bed wouldn’t hurt her. It seemed Joel and Ellie had the same idea, no sounds of plumbing or running water to be heard. It was sundown, but they could all use the rest. Who cared if they slept for 12 hours? After what they had just been through, they deserved it.

But try as she might, Maddie couldn’t sleep. The room felt suffocating. After almost a year of sleeping out in the open, this felt claustrophobic. Like she was sleeping in a room-sized coffin, but a coffin, nonetheless. She also had gotten used to having Joel and Ellie next to her when sleeping. Now that she was alone, it just felt unsafe, despite the obvious opposite. She tossed and turned, trying to calm her mind enough for sleep to take hold, but her mind kept replaying what happened over the last few days.

How the whole thing didn’t make sense to her, even on the surface. The dilapidated hospital, the lack of staff and resources, the ambitious nature of it all despite the lack of proper procedure and expertise. How could one doctor and two nurses create a cure in these conditions? So, when the doctor confirmed her biggest fear, she reacted. And it seemed Joel found out too, considering he mowed through the entire hospital to get to them. By the time they got out of there, the only people left alive were the three medical professionals, locked in the threadbare operating theatre.

But Ellie couldn’t see it from their point of view, going on and on about how her life was now without purpose, how she could’ve died for something meaningful, how they took that choice away from her. Maddie and Joel kept quiet. They let her say her peace and hoped that one day she would understand how important she had become to them both.

A glance at the clock showed it was nearing midnight. This was getting ridiculous now. Her body was protesting its own indecisiveness. So tired, but too restless and her head too full to sleep. Deciding that rest was vital before she lost her mind, she picked up her pillow and blanket, and went into the living room. Maybe a bigger space will help her breathe easier, and hopefully sleep would claim her. Laying the blanket on the floor, she laid down, looking around the room in the dark. This would be home from now on. She just needed a few days to get used to it, she was sure of it.

Not that time ever made her feel like any place was home anyway. She had spent close to 15 years at the QZ working as a nurse at the FEDRA hospital. But she had never felt at home there, and the fact that she had never agreed with their policies didn’t help. She helped Tess and Joel whenever she could, getting them what they needed from the hospital, helping them make connections so that they could get out when they needed to, keeping a lookout for them, and in return, they helped protect her. But when she was found out, the officer wanted a bribe. Instead of turning her in, maybe he could turn a blind eye, if she would open her legs for him whenever he wanted. When she resisted, he assaulted her, the physical assaults leaving her face black and blue and bloody, eyes so swollen she couldn’t open them properly, the sexual assaults leaving her bleeding, unable to walk for days. She couldn’t leave her apartment for a whole week, and when Tess and Joel found her, they smuggled her out to live with Bill and Frank. For five years, she helped nurse Frank, before finding them in each other’s arms, a goodbye note and a set of instructions on the dining table.

When Joel and Ellie arrived, she decided to go with them, and the rest was history.

A small thud from a pillow thrown next to her own jolted her from her thoughts, Joel standing over her. It seemed he couldn’t sleep either. He laid down next to her, threw his blanket over them both, and now there were two of them unable to sleep instead of one. Their bodies so weary they couldn’t even find the energy to talk, but the unease in their hearts wouldn’t allow them to sleep. After about an hour of them just lying there staring at the ceiling, the stairs creaked. Ellie joined them, lying on Maddie’s other side. Maddie pulled her closer, and covered her with the blanket too, Joel shuffling closer to her on her right.

Within minutes, all three of them were sound asleep.

***

Madeleine spent the next week scrubbing the house top to bottom, Joel fixing whatever needed fixing. Ellie still hadn’t spoken to either of them, spending her time in the backyard cleaning it up. Maria had come by, setting the three of them up with basic needs to start their new life, and jobs for them to contribute. Maddie, obviously, would be helping Dr Marcus Adams at the big house in the center of town used as the clinic. Joel was set up with some constructing duties, as well as patrol, and Ellie was asked to help at the stable after school.

A couple weeks in, the three of them had somewhat settled into a routine. Although Ellie was still obviously extremely angry with the both of them, she stayed close, not knowing anyone in town apart from them. A month in, she had started to make friends, and her silence was replaced by some mumblings letting Joel or Maddie know where she was headed to before storming off, followed by the obligatory slamming of the door. At this point Joel or Maddie had gotten used to her tantrums, both silently agreeing that this was better than her lying dead on that operating table. Joel even made a joke that he should scavenge for new doors just in case she managed to shatter one with all the slamming.

And then there’s the two of them. Their day-to-day life, preparing meals together, doing household chores, dealing with Ellie’s tantrums, felt so right, so normal, that it wasn’t hard to convince herself the three of them were a family. They had breakfast together every day, Ellie storming off as soon as she finished. Joel and Maddie would then follow suit, walking a distance behind her, making sure she arrived at the school safely. Joel would then walk her to the clinic and go to work. After lunch at the mess hall, Maddie would watch from afar to make sure Ellie got to the stable alright, not wanting to suffocate the angry teenager. Joel would then pick her up from work in the evenings, and both of them would wait for Ellie to finish at the stable a distance away before following her home, again, from a distance.

As unconventional as their days as a family were, this was their new normal. They liked it, even Ellie, not that she would ever admit that. It was as if they were her parents. To Maddie, this new routine was as domestic as she had ever felt, and before she knew it, she was seeing Joel in a different light, wondering what it would be like if they were a couple, and if he felt the same for her. But Joel had never shown her any interest beyond the normal protective man that they knew him to be.

Just as he had given a sense of safety and familiarity to Maddie and Ellie, they were also those things to him. And he would be lying if he were to say that Maddie was just someone he had travelled with. But she was a victim of sexual assault, and he wasn’t willing to scare her off by telling her how he felt. So, he took what he could get, and lived his life with her, hoping that she felt the same way, and that they would be together one day. He was comfortable with her, she was familiar, he felt like he could be himself with her.

Things went this way for a while. Over time, Ellie’s anger seemed to dissipate slightly, and she was beginning to talk to Maddie and Joel when the need arose. But being a teenager, she began spending more time with her friends, and wanted her own space. Eventually, she stopped sleeping downstairs, leaving Joel and Maddie alone, both of them still needing the familiarity of each other’s company to rest.

About three months in, Maddie woke up to Joel spooning her, his arms wrapped around her. She sighed contentedly, feeling happier and more rested than she had ever felt. When Joel awoke, he seemed flustered, mumbling his apologies, covering his crotch with the blankets before going upstairs to get ready for the day. For the rest of that week, Joel and Maddie woke up in each other’s arms, but never took it further. Both of them were convinced that the cuddling was accidental, just an unconscious move one of them made in the night. But the domesticity between them increased, standing nearer to each other, letting their shoulders touch when cooking or walking next to each other, fingers brushing against one another, shy smiles exchanged all the time. Ellie noticed, her eyes rolling, but she smirked softly with approval every time the two made eye contact before looking away pink-cheeked and embarrassed.

That day, after dropping Ellie off, Joel asked Maddie if she would go to the Tipsy Bison for a drink with him that night, just the two of them. Joel’s smile was so wide his eyes disappeared, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his heart close to bursting when she shyly said yes. They continued walking slowly towards the clinic, hands brushing against each other in the process. Joel was having a discussion with himself in his head on whether or not to kiss her on the cheek upon dropping her off at the clinic, when a group of men went running past them towards the clinic, carrying a very bloody man. Maddie looked at Joel, who nodded. She said a quick goodbye before running to the clinic to help.

The rest of that day went by with a blur. The patient had tried to fix his malfunctioning fridge when it shocked him, and his violently seizing body caused it to topple over and crush him. His injuries were severe, and Maddie and Marcus never left his side, staying at the clinic for the next three nights before he stabilized, taking turns sleeping for an hour each at the studio apartment above the clinic.

When Maddie went home days later, Joel was not in the living room sleeping. He had gone upstairs to his own room. Maddie slept in her own room for the first time that night, exhaustion taking her to dreamland within minutes. When she woke up the next day, having slept in later than she normally would, Joel had gone on patrol.

Dinner that night was quieter than usual, Joel exhausted from his long day, Maddie too. Ellie was just rushing through dinner to go to movie night. After they cleaned up, Joel put his jacket on and told Maddie he was going out for a drink before closing the door behind him. Maddie was dumbfounded. What happened to going to the Tipsy Bison together? Did he want her to go with him? Did he ask her, but she didn’t hear? She decided she was going anyway. It was weird to go this long without him.

When she got to the Bison, she searched the room for him or Tommy. She found him almost immediately, sitting at the bar, a drink in his hand, chatting with someone she couldn’t see, his back to her. She walked over, eager to join him, when the crowd parted. He was sitting next to a beautiful redhead, who was animatedly telling him a story. She looked young, probably in her mid-twenties. She was textbook beautiful, with her perfect face and her perfect body in a beautiful wrap dress. Maddie looked at her own reflection in the mirror behind the bar, feeling like she looked at least fifty, and not the mid-forties that she really was, her clothes plain and baggy, hiding her less than perfect body, full of scars from their long journey together. He laughed at her jokes, looking like he’s having a hell of a time. Maddie shook the shock away, walking forward again, when the redhead wrapped her arm around his free hand, and placed her head on his shoulder. Maddie got closer and called his name.

Joel and the redhead turned, Joel quickly pulling his hand away from her hold. The redhead looked her up and down and smiled.

“You must be Madeleine, you’re Joel’s roommate, right?” she asked, her charming smile making Maddie feel like a frumpy old lady.

Joel cleared his throat. “Maddie, this is Vanessa, my patrol partner.”

***

Maddie forced a smile on her face and said hi to Vanessa. Joel pulled the chair on his other side and asked her to join them. But Maddie felt like she was interrupting. She now felt sure that he did not in fact ask her to join him before he left the house. He wanted to be alone with her. And now he was inviting her to join them because he felt bad, or felt he had to. Maddie felt hot all of a sudden, her face flushed with embarrassment. She mumbled some incoherent half-assed excuse about needing to get up early and turned to go home. She heard Joel call after her, but she was too mortified with the realization that she had made up his affection for her in her head that she just bolted. She ran face first into Tommy who asked her to slow down, but she didn’t. She needed to get out of there as soon as she could.

Fuck. What was she thinking? Why the hell would he want to be with some middle-aged old maid such as herself when he could get a Vanessa? Young, beautiful, sexy, sex-on-a-leg Vanessa? Those perky boobs of hers that were close to spilling out of her dress probably didn’t even need bras. Maddie couldn’t get her own boobs to look that perky with the best push up available. He may be in his fifties, but Joel was a good-looking guy, and Maddie had not missed the way the ladies in Jackson giving him fuck-me eyes on the daily. He had always been oblivious to this phenomenon, and Maddie stupidly thought it was because he only cared for her attention, but clearly, she was wrong. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! How was she supposed to look him in the eyes again?

When she got home, she went straight to her room, not bothering to turn the lights on. Sleep evaded her, her heart hammering away, but the embarrassment she felt earlier was now replaced with something she could not identify. She had never felt like this before. Her heart felt… heavy. The weight of it pressing down on her as she laid on her bed. She turned sideways to ease it, it worked for a while, but returned a few minutes later. After what felt like hours, she heard the front door open, and Joel’s familiar heavy footsteps walked in, the sounds coming closer and closer before stopping at her door. She saw the shadows of his feet in the sliver of light under the door from her dark room. She could hear his hand touching the door handle, but after what felt like hours, she heard him huff a long breath before retreating and going up to his own room. Maddie let go of the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She turned one final time, letting the heaviness play with her mind until sleep took her.

The next morning, Maddie practically shoved food down Ellie’s throat in order to whisk her away to school as soon as possible, terrified of running into Joel. Ellie pushed her hand away, grumbling what her problem was. As they were leaving, she heard Joel’s door open. Maddie grabbed Ellie by the collar and pulled her out the door, literally jogging away from the door. She heard the door open, and Joel’s voice call for them, Ellie stopping to wait for Joel, but Maddie kept pulling.

“What is going on with you? Why are we running from Joel?” she asked.

Before Maddie could answer, Vanessa appeared out of nowhere, colliding with her, the force of it pushing both of them on the ground, Maddie literally eating dirt. Joel ran up, helping Vanessa up, checking she was alright before turning to Maddie, whose lips were now bleeding from her face plant. Joel looked concerned, hand coming up to her face, but before he could do anything, Vanessa piped up,

“I was just on my way to get you. We need to leave now. The patrol from last night didn’t return. I was going to go get Tommy next,” she said, her voice urgent.

Maddie wiped the blood on her lips while Ellie helped her up. Joel looked at her, her lips sans blood now. Maddie said something about being late for work and turned around, pulling Ellie with her. Ellie kept quiet after that, somehow reading that any comments on what just happened wouldn’t be welcomed, especially the fact that Joel helped Vanessa up before her. Maddie felt childish, as if she was reading too much into this. He had reached Vanessa first, so it made sense that he helped her first, right? Of course he would’ve helped her too. Of course he would’ve. He would’ve. He definitely would’ve.

When she got to the clinic, Marcus, who was fast becoming her best friend from all the time they spent alone at the clinic, was already there. He turned to greet her, only for his face to morph into concern at her swollen lips, now bleeding again. He forced her to take a seat, despite her protests, fussing with swabs and ointments to make sure she didn’t need stitches. He gently pried her lips open, looking at them with a small torch, dabbing lightly to see if the bleeding could stop on its own, his left hand holding her cheek.

Someone cleared their throat. The two looked up to see Joel standing in the doorway, his face like thunder. He said something about not knowing what time he would be home that day, and to make sure Ellie got home on time, before abruptly turning around and leaving, the door slammed harder than it should behind him. Marcus looked bewildered for a second, before declaring she didn’t need stitches, but dabbing some ointment on her lips anyway, just to be safe.

When both batches of patrol came back that evening, Maddie was relieved to see Joel unscathed, just tired looking, Vanessa riding next to him, looking like some badass chick coming home from a victorious battle, her red hair looking perfect as ever, an easy smile on her face, which was gazing adoringly at Joel. A few riders from last night’s patrol were injured, so Marcus called Maddie to give him a hand. She felt Joel’s eyes on her but did not dare look. She focused on cleaning the injuries and then preparing the trays and equipment to stitch up the wounds, her and Marcus working well together, fast and efficient.

After what felt like a thousand hours, Maddie was looking forward to going home, taking a shower, having a quick dinner and just sleeping the rest of the night away. She was walking towards the stables to get Ellie, stomach rumbling, when someone called her name. It was Vanessa, running slightly to catch up with her.

“Hey Maddie? I just wanted to say sorry for running into you like that this morning. I was in a hurry and didn’t see you. Are you alright?”

Maddie nodded, so not in the mood to feel inferior right now, and Vanessa just brought that out of her. Vanessa continued almost immediately after the nod,

“Hey, just wondering. You and Joel, you guys are not together, right? He said you were just roommates?”

Maddie felt like her heart was in her throat. She was convinced that if she opened her mouth to answer her heart would fall out. So instead, she shook her head. After all, that’s what she was. She was the woman living in the same house as he, in different rooms in fact. They were roommates. He was her roommate, one she was heavily crushing on, a one-sided imaginary feel-fest starring only her.

“Oh, good. So, you don’t mind that we’re seeing each other, right? It’s just, we spend so much time together and I think we both feel this connection you know? It was just a matter of time. We work well together. But I just thought I should talk to you about it, you know, woman to woman?” she said, her eyes dreamy.

“Isn’t he too old for you?” Maddie said before she could stop herself. Vanessa just scoffed.

“If that’s what old looks like, I guess I have a thing for older men. Plus, he’s not old where it counts, you know what I mean? That man can make me purr, let me tell you that!” she said, giving a cheeky wink before walking away.

Maddie stopped in front of the stable, her legs heavier than lead, her head full of what just happened. So, Joel had a girlfriend now? She couldn’t comprehend it, just a week ago he was flirting with her and asking her out for drinks, and cuddling with her, and now he had a girlfriend?

Maddie heard her name again, this time in Joel’s low tone. It seemed he had the same idea to walk Ellie home from the stable now that he was home earlier than expected.

“What did Vanessa want?” he asked her, his head low, eyes fixed on his feet.

“Nothing,” Maddie said, a little too quickly. “You can walk Ellie home, right? I think I’m gonna go home first.”

“Wait,” he said, his hand wrapped gently around her clenched hand. “I made dinner. Let’s have dinner together? Like we always did? I have something to talk to you about,” he said, his face hopeful.

Maddie so badly wanted to say yes, she had missed him. Missed having a good meal with him and Ellie. But Vanessa’s words were fresh in her mind, and if he was just going to tell her the same thing, she didn’t want to hear it. She got it. He had a girlfriend. All his affections were in her head.

“Actually Joel, I’m not hungry. I’m really tired. I’ll see you around,” she said instead, walking away, prying her hand from his gentle grasp, dying to get away from him before the grumbling in her tummy got loud enough to betray her.

Maddie went to bed with a piece of bread, lying in bed in the dark, willing herself not to cry. The heaviness in her chest was back. What was going on? What was this feeling? Shit. She just wanted it to go away.

After he and Ellie had dinner, Joel went to Maddie’s door, raising his hand to knock, desperate to talk to her. But he couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear her word choice – that she will see him ‘around’ instead of ‘at home'. Deciding not to bother her, he went upstairs and willed himself to sleep.

The next day, while she was mopping the floors in the clinic, Vanessa showed up. Maddie almost sighed out loud in exasperation. She kept popping up on her, like a Jack-in-a-Box, but a really annoyingly beautiful one. Instead, she composed herself and forced a fake smile on her face. Vanessa came up to her, a cheeky look on her face,

“Hey Maddie… so… Joel and I are going on a date tonight, and… well… I live with five other girls you know, and Ellie will be spending the night at Dina’s. I was wondering if you could do me a solid and make yourself scarce for the evening? So, we can have some alone time? Help a girl out?” she begged, a desperate look on her face.

Maddie just stared for a while. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to seem like a scorned woman, so she just smiled and nodded, before picking up the mop bucket and walking to the back room. She heard Vanessa’s delighted “thank you!” behind her, shut the door to the back room, sat down, and buried her face in her hands, the tears flowing freely.

As she laid in the twin bed in the studio apartment above the clinic that night, she couldn’t get the images of Joel and Vanessa together out of her imagination. She didn’t even go home for a change of clothes, worried that if she ran into him, she would turn to stone. She kept picturing them naked, their bodies entwined, their lips locked, their moans loud and echoey throughout the empty house. She hated the fact that she didn’t tell him how she felt earlier, and now it was too late. She cried herself to sleep that night, fully dressed.

The next morning, she was shaken awake by a worried Marcus, who had noticed that the apartment lights were on and went up there, thinking he forgot to switch them off. He asked her what happened, but she was too ashamed to tell him, choosing instead to tell him she was too tired to walk home. He obviously didn’t believe her but chose not to press further. Instead, he waited for her to wash her face, and asked her to go to the mess hall for some breakfast instead. He needed to open the clinic, but a hungry nurse won’t do him any good, he said, pinching her on the chin, making her laugh.

When they walked down together, Marcus’s comforting hand on her shoulder, they came face to face with Joel, who stopped walking, his face the picture of devastation at the sight he was seeing. Maddie wanted to be offended, clocking what he must have thought of the sight. How dare he, when he was the one going on dates and bringing the perfect specimen of a woman home. She was about to express her annoyance, but a very chirpy Vanessa came running, pulling him away, whispering in his ear, before turning around and smiling cheekily at Maddie, winking conspiratorially at her, giving her a thumbs up, as if doing her the biggest favor. Joel kept looking back at the two of them, his face disbelieving, looking crestfallen. Maddie felt her heart clench. She realized that instead of anger, his face just looked so sad. She wanted to go after him and ask him what was wrong, but a flustered looking mother came running to the clinic, her child in her arms who was obviously having difficulty breathing.

So, Maddie put her nurse game face on, and took the child from his mother, and brought him inside for treatment.

***

Joel didn’t sleep at home for almost a week after that day. He would walk Ellie home from the stable in the evenings, made sure she had dinner, and left as soon as Maddie got home. He got home before dawn broke, got ready for his day, and let Maddie handle Ellie in the mornings, preferring to leave for the stables without having to bump into her. Maddie made sure Ellie was never alone at night but chose to sleep at the apartment if Joel was home for the night, deciding that she would rather sew her own ears shut than hear Joel and Vanessa going at it, making sure she was out of the house before she came for the night. She got home a little earlier than expected one day and could hear his moans and groans upstairs and ran out of the house like her life depended on it before she could hear her too. Never again, she thought. Her heart couldn’t take it. Ellie was spending more and more weekends sleeping over at her friends’ places, so Maddie was the only obstacle for the happy couple’s privacy. Maddie did wonder where the two spent their nights when they were not at this house. Vanessa made it clear she had roommates, so they must have found some sort of a sex port somewhere.

Maria came to talk to her one day, asking her if she and Joel were having problems, considering they had not been seen together for a couple of weeks. They were virtually inseparable during the first three months in Jackson, and suddenly it was as if they were strangers. Maria told her she was shocked to hear that Joel was with Vanessa – she had always thought that he and Maddie would end up together. Even Tommy was shocked, but of course, no one dared say anything to the grumpy man, for he was even more stubborn than he was grumpy.

As much as Maddie wanted to own up to her feelings and frustrations, she didn’t want Maria and Tommy blabbing to Joel. If he was happy with Vanessa, then she would like to be happy for him, as much as it was killing her inside. So, Maddie tried to keep the peace. She and Joel simply coexisted, avoiding each other like a dance, while making sure Ellie was taken care of.

But Ellie, oh Ellie. That girl had completely become a typical teenager, always angry, always moody, not that she wasn’t already. Despite letting Joel and Maddie walk her to school and back home daily, she made it quite clear that she was still angry at them for what happened at the hospital, using that as an excuse as to why they didn’t have the right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do, since they had taken her choice away from her. She could sense the unease between the two parental figures, and she was acting out. Maddie caught her smoking once, and when she tried to tell her it was not good for her, she stomped off, yelling that she was not her mother so please fuck off! Joel wasn’t faring any better with her either. He caught her sneaking out late one night, and when confronted, she screamed that he was not her father, and it was not like he was such a good role model, he couldn’t even keep his family together.

So, Maddie and Joel had a sit down, and decided they needed to get their shit together, and work together for Ellie’s sake. They came to an agreement that they needed to stay together, just until Ellie fully settled, so that she didn’t feel alone or left out. Family meals were no longer negotiable, even if no one was talking. Also, no one would be having sleepovers, at home or otherwise for a while, just to get their bearings back. Ellie needed stability, and having every other parental figure out of the house every other night was not helping, neither was her sleeping in different places every weekend. And for Joel and Maddie – whatever they had going on outside of the three of them, stayed out of the house. So, Maddie made it a point to never mention Vanessa to him, and he did the same. They were civil to one another, keeping up appearances for her sake, but when Ellie went to bed, both of them quietly retreated to their own rooms, neither talking to each other, each missing longing looks they each gave the other.

Slowly but surely, their efforts started showing results. Ellie started calming down, making the effort to spend more time with Joel and Maddie, going to movie nights with them, even helping them prepare meals and tending the garden in the backyard, doing her chores, and although she still had her temper tantrums every now and again, she was generally more relaxed, and a lot more cooperative. Everything seemed to be going well. The three of them getting along, their school and work life going great.

Every time Maddie saw Vanessa around town, she was always surrounded by ladies her age – her roommates, Maddie assumed. Vanessa always gave her a sad smile, and her friends would stare at her, annoyance and disgust clear on their faces, before rubbing their hands on Vanessa’s back and walking away as a group. Joel had taken to glaring at Marcus whenever the doc was around, although for the life of her Maddie couldn’t figure out why. But they had agreed not to talk about anything non-related to the three of them, so she kept quiet.

About two months after the new arrangement began, Maddie was taking inventory at the clinic when Vanessa walked in, arms full of medical supplies they had found from that day’s scavenging trip. Maddie thanked her, and immediately began checking the items for leaks and expiry dates.

“So, how’s Ellie doing these days?” Vanessa asked.

“Joel didn’t tell you? She’s doing much better. It’s sweet of you to ask.”

“That’s so great! I am so happy for you guys,” she said. “So, now that Ellie’s doing much better, are you looking for other places to live?”

“Why would I be doing that?” Maddie asked back, genuinely confused at the question.

“Well, now that Ellie’s doing better, do you need to still be living with Joel? I mean, you guys are not together, and he’s with me, so why are you still living with him?” Vanessa questioned; a sweet smile still plastered on her gorgeous, perfect face.

Maddie was taken aback. She had been living there since they moved to Jackson. The three of them came in together, where else would she be living? Unless…

“Did Joel say something?”

“Oh, it’s not my place to say…”

“Vanessa,” Maddie’s voice was stern, looking at Vanessa with a serious face.

Vanessa gave an uncomfortable smile. “It’s just that Joel and I were planning to take our relationship to the next level you know? We completely understood the need for the two of us to slow down when Ellie was acting up, but now that she’s doing better, he mentioned that maybe it would be better if you found a place for yourself so that I can move in with him, maybe start a family of our own,” she said, her hands twisting together, head down, trying to avoid Maddie’s disbelieving eyes.

“I mean, technically I could just move in with you still living there, but we are very loud, and I think he just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable you know? Even when we haven’t been spending nights together, he found ways for us to have alone time - the man is insatiable - so imagine what it would be like if we were to actually live together…” she continued, a sly smile on her face.

“Plus, I think you living there would make him uncomfortable too. He wouldn’t even show me affection in public out of respect for you. People know the three of you came in together, and lots of people believe you guys are together, so he didn’t want to make you feel left out or anything, you know? So, it would be better for all of us if you have your own place.”

Marcus walked in at that moment, having heard what was said, a stern look on his face, and Vanessa excused herself, before turning around and begging Maddie not to say anything to Joel, for he had made her promise not to say anything. As soon as she was gone, Maddie told Marcus she would be right back, and ran home. She had to talk to Joel. Was this what he really wanted? She needed to hear him say it to believe it. When she got home, the door was open, and she can hear Tommy, Maria and Ellie’s voices clearly, along with Joel’s low one.

“Are you sure about this brother?” Tommy asked.

“Isn’t it too soon?” Maria added, “It’s only been a few months…”

“It’s not too soon,” Ellie’s voice interrupted.

Joel’s voice was clear now.

“We have to move on, things cannot stay like this forever. We will talk to Maddie, make her understand. This is good for her. To be independent. We will help her with anything she needs, of course, but she cannot depend on us forever, so, it would be better if she lives on her own. It’s not like she’ll be far, we’re right here,” he said, his voice steady.

There was a long silence.

“Alright, if you think that’s best,” Maria said.

Maddie had heard everything she needed to hear. She turned around and walked back to the clinic. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Sure, he had found someone, but it had only been a couple of months, ten weeks at the most. And just like that she was no longer needed? After everything?

When she got back to the clinic, she broke down. She told Marcus everything. She felt like he was the only person she could talk to about this, everyone else in her life seemed to be conspiring to rid Joel of her, and he seemed more than eager to make that happen too. Marcus held her tight, keeping silent and just being there for her. He offered his spare room, but Marcus didn’t live alone, and Maddie didn’t want to intrude. He then suggested she move into the apartment above the clinic – the apartment was part of the clinic, and staff were allowed to use it at the doctor’s discretion, especially when severely injured patients required 24/7 care, and he wanted her to have it. Plus, he said, it would be better for the town to have the nurse living directly above the clinic, especially for emergency cases at night.

Maddie promised to think about it, but when she got home that evening, she found that she couldn’t even look at Joel in the eyes anymore, knowing he didn’t want her there. She could feel his eyes on her at all times, and she kept bracing herself for him to tell her what she already knew – that he needed her to move out so he can live his happily ever after with Vanessa, Ellie, and however many devastatingly gorgeous children those two annoyingly good-looking people would inevitably have from their super active sex life. So, the next day while the house was empty, with Marcus’s help, she packed what little belonging she had, and moved out.

But she still had Ellie to think about. Ellie still needed stability. And as hurt as she was, she didn’t want to put her own needs before Ellie’s, but at the same time didn’t want Joel to have the satisfaction of knowing that she gave in to their demands – even if he hadn’t had the balls to talk to her about him wanting to move Vanessa in. So, she decided that while Ellie was still adjusting, she would sneak back home early in the mornings to make breakfast and have their morning routine together, go back there as usual for dinner, and sneak back out once Joel had gone up to bed. Anything for Ellie. All Maddie wanted was for the little girl to have as normal a life as she and Joel could give her.

More time passed. Vanessa had asked her again if she had found an alternate living arrangement, confirming to her that Joel had no clue she had moved out. She was a bit hurt by that. Really? He didn’t even notice she didn’t live here anymore? To be fair, she had been keeping up the façade of being there as if nothing had changed shockingly well, and Joel was much too gentlemanly to barge into her now very empty room without permission to discover her little act. But still, Maddie found herself to be annoyed most days now. Even after a whole month since she overheard that conversation, Joel still hadn’t confronted her with it. Still hadn’t told her he would prefer for her to move out. Ugh. Just man up and do it already!

Joel, on the other hand, was still walking around as the resident town grump, even all these months later. He went about his day as if someone was always hiding in the bushes about to attack him, shoulders stiff, a permanent scowl on his face. The only times he seemed a bit relaxed was when talking to Ellie, Maddie or Maria, even Tommy when the younger man wasn’t looking to annoy him. Nothing weird there, though. That’s how he had always been, and it took Maddie and Ellie nursing him back to health, their hands never leaving his during his recovery from that incident in Salt Lake City for him to soften for the two of them.

He walked into the clinic one Saturday, holding his left arm, the sleeve of his flannel soaked in blood. Maddie felt her head freeze at the sight, running to him and pulling him into the treatment room to take a closer look. He let her pull him with her, his face soft and at ease seeing her worried one.

“What the hell happened?” Maddie asked, carefully folding the sleeves up to take a closer look at his arm, internally chastising herself at how desperately worried she sounded. She hated how much she still cared and worried for him, but she couldn’t help herself.

There was a long, deep, jagged gash along his forearm, about four inches in length, and it was bleeding profusely.

“Caught it on some sharp zinc in the garage while clearing it today,” he explained, wincing slightly when Maddie applied saline solution to clean the wound.

“The hell were you doing clearing the garage?” she asked. “You need to learn to rest, old man, you work too much,” she said.

Joel chuckled, a smile on his face, despite the pain that he was in. Maddie continued cleaning the gash thoroughly, being careful not to hurt him too much. Her eyes slightly wet at the thought of him being hurt. Those couple of weeks in Salt Lake City were among the worst days of her life, she and Ellie so worried that he wouldn’t make it. Even if she was a nurse, it wasn’t like they had the supplies to treat him properly. She was glad they were in Jackson now, and she could help tend to his wound as needed.

Joel couldn’t help but stare at her as she worked, stitching his wound up, her face slightly scrunched up in concentration. His heart softened every time he looked at her. She was so close to him right now; he could smell her shampoo. He longed to bury his face in her hair, in her neck, so he could drown in her smell. It took everything in him not to, he shouldn’t. He didn’t have the right to do that. But he missed her smell, the way her body melted into his when they used to sleep in the living room, the way their bodies just magnetize towards each other no matter how they tried not to do that. He missed the talks they would have before they both fall asleep, and most of all, he missed waking up with his face buried in her hair, the back of her neck, or her face in the crook of his, her arm around his waist, and his around her body. But he couldn’t have that now, not anymore. So, he settled for just looking at her, taking in as much of her beautiful face as he could, hoping to God that was enough to help him sleep that night.

When Maddie looked up at him, she found him looking at her, his face so soft, his puppy dog eyes full of yearning. Their faces were so close together, she could see the flecks of amber in his beautiful brown eyes.

“Maddie,” he began, his voice so soft, so careful, his uninjured hand finding her arm, softly stroking it up and down. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

Her heart stopped. This was it. He was going to tell her he wanted her to move out.

“Joel!!! What happened???” Vanessa’s shrill voice piped in dramatically, her face full of concern.

Maddie wanted to roll her eyes. Where the heck had she come from? Honestly. They spend five days a week on patrol together, she couldn’t let her be alone with Joel for a few minutes? Sheesh. Instead, Maddie rubbed some antibacterial salve on the stitched wound, and began bandaging it, Vanessa fussing over him as if he was a child. Joel just looked a bit flustered, uncomfortable, even. The grump was back. Gone was the soft Joel. He kept saying he was alright, just a cut, nothing to worry about. He was about to ask Vanessa to give the two of them some privacy, when Marcus came in, wondering what the shrill ruckus was all about.

Joel’s face snapped shut even harder. So did Marcus’s when he saw Joel and Vanessa there. As soon as Maddie stood up, he wrapped his hand around Maddie’s shoulder protectively, concerned at what Maddie must be feeling with those two being there together in her presence. He had spent so much time listening to Maddie pour her heart out regarding those two, and he wasn’t about to allow them to hurt her in his presence.

Vanessa wrapped her arms around Joel’s uninjured arm to leave. Joel’s body resisting, but eventually gave in. But before they could leave, Vanessa turned.

“Are you two going to the Bison tonight? Some of the men are doing a live performance. It should be fun! Will we see the two of you there?” she asked, her arms still wrapped around Joel’s, whose face was unreadable, apart from the murdering of a doctor he was probably plotting in his head.

Maddie couldn’t speak, the lump in her throat getting bigger by the second.

“We’ll be there, wouldn’t miss it,” Marcus said, his arm tightening around Maddie’s shoulder. He didn’t miss the way Joel’s eyes flickered to his arm.

“Great! See you there!” Vanessa chirped, before pulling a reluctant Joel with her.

Maddie let out a shaky breath. Marcus let go of her shoulder, but took her face in his hands, checking to see if she was alright.

“Why did you say we would go tonight? I really don’t feel like going. The last thing I need was to see the two of them slow dancing,” she said with a slight tremble of her lips, her tears threatening to slip out.

“Nope. You are going little nurse lady. You are gonna get all dressed up, you are gonna have a few drinks, loosen up and have fun. I’m gonna make sure you leave the Bison smiling tonight if it’s the last thing I do. Fuck ‘em. We are going to have fun. Full stop. Understood?” he said, his face full of care and determination.

Maddie thought about it for a bit and nodded.

He was right. Fuck the two of them. She was going to have fun tonight.

***

Scissors. Where the fuck were the scissors? Ellie was running around the house, looking in every drawer in the common areas looking for scissors. The ‘new’ shirt she had put on for the live performance at the Bison tonight had an annoyingly long lose thread from the wash, and it was a twenty-year-old shirt to begin with despite it being new to her, so she didn’t want to risk pulling it in case it made the situation worse. Joel had left early, needing to help set up the Bison after promising profusely to be careful with his injured arm. Maddie said she would be going from the clinic. So, the mission to find the scissors was a solo one. She went into Joel’s room, hastily looking around for one, but couldn’t find any. Surely, they must have some scissors somewhere in the house, right? Maddie might have them. She ran downstairs, checking in the drawers in the living room and kitchen once more for good measure, before going into Maddie’s room, completely oblivious to what she was about to be greeted with.

***

Maddie spent the evening at Maria’s, looking for a dress to borrow for the night. She forced herself to only speak of everyday matters, and not about Joel or the fact that she was heartbroken that she was about to see Joel and Vanessa together in a public setting. Maria insisted that she put some make up on her, after all, as a beautiful single woman, she might meet someone at the concert, winking at her with a teasing smile.

“Oh, come on Maria. Who would want an old lady such as myself?” Maddie asked.

“Hey, we are about the same age, and 46 is NOT OLD!” Maria said defensively.

“Maybe it wasn’t old in the before, but nowadays? Fuck that is old,” Maddie’s hands covered her face at the thought.

“Hey, Joel is older, and he found someone. You will too,” Maria said.

“Yeah, a 25-year-old. Guys want younger models. They want a Vanessa. They don’t want a Maddie. I mean, Joel went for someone young enough to be his daughter, and he gets called a stud. If I go for someone young enough to be my son? Imagine the backlash!”

Maria sighed. She could not understand why Joel would go for Vanessa. She and Tommy were shocked when they found out. Tommy spent the rest of that day going on and on about how out of character that was for Joel, to go for someone he hardly knew. Joel was a man of routine, of familiarity. And even though Joel had assured him that he and Maddie were just roommates, Tommy didn’t miss the way his brother looked at Maddie. Even Maria noticed, despite not knowing either of them before their second arrival to Jackson. The husband and wife were sure that Joel would finally step up and ask Maddie out. But when Vanessa told her she and Joel were together, Maria decided against talking to Joel about it, and made Tommy promise to do the same, citing it was none of their business. It wasn’t that hard to believe anyway. They spent all day on patrol together, and Vanessa was a beautiful young woman. Joel was just a man, with eyes and needs, so who were they to question it? She could see how Maddie was broken hearted by this revelation, though. But what could she do? The heart will always want what it wants.

They got ready together, Maddie finally relented to wearing a black and white body fitting Lycra dress that flared into a knee-length flowy skirt below the waist, and begrudgingly allowed Maria to lightly put 20-year-old make up on her face, her hair left to fall free around her shoulders. The two walked arm in arm to the Bison together, the town starting to walk over too. The doors to the Bison were left open, the band set up in the square. Maria found Tommy, who gushed at his wife’s beauty, before giving Maddie a low whistle and a once over. She never got all dressed up, and although feeling uncomfortable with all the attention, she enjoyed feeling like maybe, just MAYBE, she was a little bit beautiful tonight, even if only to herself.

When Joel saw Maddie for the first time that evening, he just about had a heart attack. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He had always thought she was beautiful, even in her simplicity and no muss no fuss attitude. He had always preferred natural beauty on his ladies, and Maddie just looked stunning tonight.

Joel wasn’t looking too bad himself, despite the wrapped forearm. Maddie’s heart literally skipped a beat when she saw him. Dark jeans, a dark green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, the top few buttons undone. Even his usually mussed curls were tamed tonight, he had styled it a little bit. Damn he looked good enough to eat.

Their eyes met across the room. They both smiled, hoping to convey what they were feeling to each other in those smiles. Someone tapped her on her shoulder. Maddie turned around, and came face to face with a stunning looking, perfectly styled Vanessa, her perfect body wrapped in a skintight red dress, her ample cleavage threatening to jump out and eat Maddie alive.

“Oh my God Maddie you came!!!” she said, giving her an exaggerated air kiss on each cheek. “You look beautiful!!” she exclaimed, giving Maddie a once over.

“Thanks Vanessa. You look good too,” Maddie said, slightly crestfallen. Even on her best dressed day, Vanessa managed to make her feel like an underdressed clown.

Joel came over, two drinks in his hands. He extended one of the drinks towards them, his eyes fixed on hers, but before Maddie could even think of taking the drink, it had disappeared from his hand.

“Why thank you handsome,” Vanessa cooed, the drink now in her hand, her free arm linking itself to Joel’s (was that a bit of annoyance on his face?). “You look good tonight,” she added, her easy smile turned very flirty. “Doesn’t Maddie look good too? You should dress up more often you know, you look really nice tonight,” she added, giving her another once over.

“Yeah, she looks beautiful,” Joel said, his eyes still on Maddie, who felt her face go red. “You really do look stunning tonight,” he said to her directly, his eyes soft and dark at the same time. “Would you…”

“There you are Marcus! Will you look at how beautiful Maddie looks tonight?” Vanessa interrupted, arms tightening around Joel’s bicep.

Maddie turned around to see Marcus looking her up and down, his mouth wide open in a big grinny disbelief, his hands wide open at the sight of her.

“Oh my God, you look amazing!” he said, his arms dropped, taking her hands in his. He twirled her around and bent a little to give her a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, stop it,” Maddie said, faking a shy smile, smacking him on his chest, but kissed him back. “Look at you! You clean up well Dr Adams!” she continued, fake batting her eyelashes at him.

The two laughed cheekily at each other. When they turned around, Maddie was met with Vanessa’s face grinning at the sight in front of her, while Joel… Joel looked like he was about to kill Marcus, the hand around his drink looking suspiciously white from his grip. Marcus ignored Joel’s murderous eyes and pulled Maddie’s hand into his.

“Come on little nurse lady, let’s get you a drink. And then, we are going to dance the night away,” he remarked.

“Bye you two!!!” Vanessa chirped happily, her arm still wrapped around Joel’s, before he pulled it away.

Maddie let herself be pulled away. She was going to have fun tonight, she thought. Nothing will ruin tonight for her, she had been through a hell of a year, a hell of twenty years, in fact, and she deserved to let loose and have fun. So, she had a few drinks, and danced with Marcus. Every now and again, she saw Joel standing somewhere in the room, leaning against a pole or a wall, his eyes always fixed on her, Vanessa right next to him, chatting merrily at whoever was closest to them. She and Maria changed partners for a song or two, Tommy being the goofy dance partner Maddie always thought he would be. But despite having so much fun, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to dance in Joel’s arms, him holding her close again, her face in the crook of his neck, surrounded by his heat and that very Joel smell that she missed so much.

She couldn’t get him alone though, Vanessa always beside him, even though she didn’t see them dance at all. Plus, what were the etiquettes here? Should she ask him to dance? Or wait for him to ask her? Was that an okay thing to do? To dance with the man she was desperately in love with when he had his stunning girlfriend clinging to him like a leech? Sheesh Vanessa, honestly. Was she capable of leaving his side for a second? We all got it, Vanessa, message received loud and clear. You were with Joel. No need to stay clamped to him like that all night. She resigned herself to the fact that she would not be dancing with him and pulled Maria to the bar for more drinks.

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off Maddie even for a second. His heart filled with longing to go over and ask Maddie for a dance, but she was always with Marcus, and even Tommy took a turn or two dancing with her (damn him, damn them both!). And Vanessa wouldn’t leave his side even for a second, and no matter how much she batted her eyelashes at him and begged him for a dance, he just didn’t feel like it. The woman he wanted to dance with was dancing with the annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor, not him, the resident town grump. The annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor whom she spent all her working days with. The annoyingly good-looking, charming town doctor whose hands saved lives, unlike his. The annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor who spent the evening expertly and effortlessly twirling her around the dance floor like he was some ballroom dancing expert, while Joel couldn’t even convince himself that he would be able to dance with her without looking at or stepping on his own feet, let alone hers.

When Vanessa finally left his side to go to the bathroom, Joel decided he needed to act and ask Maddie for a dance. But he would be a gentleman about it and ask Marcus for permission first. After all, Maddie was his friend first. They came to town together. They had been living together since they arrived here. They had all this history together. It shouldn’t be weird if they danced together, right? So, Joel made his way towards Marcus, determined to be polite and ask the annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor if he would mind letting him, the resident town grump Joel Miller, to ask his lady for a dance. He got to Marcus, who was chatting with Tommy, drink in hand, and gathered up the courage to ask him the dreaded question. But Marcus’s attention was suddenly distracted by a man who had just entered the pub, looking exhausted, obviously just in from patrol.

“Hey, you made it,” Marcus said, smiling happily before greeting the man with a hug and a sweet peck on the lips. “I don’t know if you two had met. Francis, this is Joel. Joel, this is my husband Francis,” he said.

Joel had seen Francis around before. He was the leader of one of the patrol teams, but since Joel led another team, they had never worked together. He took Francis’s outstretched hand and shook it, commenting that he had seen him around town…

…wait… HUSBAND?

“You’re gay?” Joel couldn’t stop himself from asking incredulously, while Tommy choked on his drink.

“Er… yeah… is that a problem?” Marcus hesitantly asked back.

Tommy and Francis stood there looking at the confused resident town grump and the perplexed, annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor.

“No, of course not, I just didn’t know. Wait… does Maddie know you’re gay?” Joel asked again, unable to hide the confusion on his face.

“Of course she does. She’s my best friend, I tell her everything,” Marcus said, almost laughingly.

“But I thought…” and Joel’s thoughts remained a mystery when a teenager’s carefully aimed shoe made contact with his head, jolting all four grown men out of the discussion that was not meant to be had at that exact time.

All four men spun around to look at the source of the well-aimed shoe, Joel rubbing his head, only to be met by an extremely angry and hostile looking Ellie.

“What the fuck did you do old man? What did you fucking say to her?” she screamed, launching herself at him, smacking him everywhere she could reach.

Despite the merry music playing, the bar went quiet, everyone staring at the newly unfolding drama.

“What are you talking about? What did I do? What did I say to whom?” Joel asked, fending off her smacks, before bending down to pick up her weapon of choice.

“Maddie! She’s moved out! Her room’s all empty! What did you say to her? Did you chase her out? How could you do that?” she raised her arm to smack him again, but Joel held her hand to stop her.

“Maddie moved out? When?” he asked. He turned around, saw Maddie and Maria, back from the bar with drinks in their hands.

“You moved out?” he asked her, his face disbelieving, hurt, betrayed.

“Okay let’s all calm down and take this outside, shall we?” Maria said calmly, her town mayor persona taking over, taking Maddie’s drink from her hand, passing both their glasses to someone before ushering a stunned Joel and a stone-faced Maddie outside. Tommy took Ellie by the shoulder, doing the same, and Marcus and Francis followed.

Once they were further away from the music, they all stood around awkwardly, before Joel piped up again.

“You moved out?” he asked Maddie again, genuinely unable to believe what he had just heard.

Maddie kept looking at the ground, unable to look him in the eyes. Marcus went to her side, holding her close to him. She nodded slowly, eyes still on the ground.

“Why?”

Maddie finally looked up, annoyed that he had the gall to ask that question.

“Isn’t that what you wanted? I overheard you, Joel. And Vanessa told me. I know all of it Joel. Just because you didn’t have the balls to tell me doesn’t mean I don’t know what is going on,” she said, her voice shaking slightly with anger.

“What are you talking about? What did you overhear? What did Vanessa tell you?”

Maddie scoffed. Unbelievable.

“I know you wanted me out of the house, Joel. I heard you two talking with Tommy and Maria,” she said, looking at Joel and Ellie, her face now contorted, tears threatening to spill out.

“Wait, what?” Maria spoke up. “He never told us he wanted you out,” she continued. Tommy, confusion on his face, also shook his head no. Even Ellie looked confused.

“I heard you guys. You wanted me out. It was good for me. I shouldn’t depend on you forever. I should be independent,” her tears falling now.

A flash of understanding came across the four faces in front of her.

“That was about me,” Ellie said. “I asked Joel if he and Tommy could fix the garage up for me, so I can live there by myself, have a space of my own. That way I don’t have to depend on you two forever,” she explained.

“I was clearing it out today, finally have some time to get started,” Joel added, showing her his bandaged arm, “I was gonna talk to you about it when we had some time alone.”

“Wait a minute,” Marcus interjected. “I was there. I heard Vanessa said you wanted Maddie to move out so that she can move in with you.”

“Why the fuck would I want my patrol partner to move in with me?” Joel looked at Marcus like he was speaking in some foreign language.

Now everyone in that group just looked extremely confused, looking at Joel like he had three heads. Why would Joel call his girlfriend his patrol partner? Sure, that’s who she was too, but that’s just weird. Joel now felt like he was the new kid in school, on his first day, where everyone knew something that he didn’t. Someone said Joel’s name amidst the confusing, uncomfortable silence. The group turned around, Vanessa approaching, a nervous smile on her face.

“What’s going on here? Are we moving the party to the back alley now?” she asked, her face filled with uncertainty, but still smiling, her arm snaking around Joel’s.

Joel snatched his arm away. He turned to face her fully, his face serious, her smile faltering.

“Vanessa, what the fuck have you been telling everyone?”

***

“What do you mean, Joel?” Vanessa asked sweetly, her face looking like she would rather be anywhere else but there at the moment, “I didn’t say anything to anyone…”

“Is anyone going to tell me what is going on? Why would I ask her to move in with me?” Joel turned around, asking the silent people around him instead.

Vanessa’s face turned chalk white. Shit, cat’s out of the bag. She couldn’t believe these people went behind her back. She kept telling them not to tell Joel. Sheesh. How hard was it to follow a simple request?

“Well, I don’t know what she told others, but she told me…” Ellie began.

“Ellie…” Vanessa interrupted, panic beginning to invade her voice.

“Shut up Vanessa,” Joel snapped. “Ellie?”

“She told me you and her are dating,” Ellie finished.

The rest of the group murmured a silent ‘yep’. Everyone apart from Maddie, who stayed quiet, eyes glued to her feet.

“You told them what?” Joel’s face was red now, his eyes snapping to Vanessa.

“No Joel, they must have misunderstood…” she began, but Maria cut her off.

“No Vanessa. You told me you and Joel were dating, exclusively.”

“No, I didn’t,” Vanessa starting to sound like a denial puppet now.

Maddie was still silent. Marcus couldn’t stay silent anymore, his memory of all the tears Maddie had shed resulting from this redhead’s poison just pushed the words out,

“I heard you told Maddie Joel wanted her out of the house so that you can move in with him, Vanessa. That you guys have a lot of very loud sex. In fact, I heard you said that you two were going ‘to start a family of your own’,” he added, complete with air quotes.

Joel’s eyes were shooting daggers at Vanessa now. His body so stiff the vein on his neck were practically popping open.

“Vanessa, why would you say that?” he asked, his voice strained from controlled anger.

Vanessa looked at everyone desperately, silently begging for someone to step up to her defense. No one did, in fact she was met with stone-faced people, all staring at her, waiting for her explanation, except for Maddie, who was still looking at her feet.

“Because I am in love with you, Joel! But all you could think about was her! I just thought, if I could just get her to pull away from you, or make you believe she wasn’t interested…”

“So, you told her we were together? That I wanted her to move out? That I wanted to start a family with you? To scare her away from me? That’s why you kept pushing the idea of her and Marcus at me? You wanted me to think she wasn’t interested in me?” her delusions were so vapid and over the top he couldn’t believe she thought she was going to get away with it all.

“Oh, come on Joel. Look at them. He can barely keep his hands off her. They spend all day together, how sure are you they are not just fucking their brains out when they’re alone at the clinic?” Vanessa spat out, pointing at the way Marcus had Maddie close in his arms.

“Erm… He’s been married to me for 8 years,” Francis piped up.

Vanessa spluttered. In all her scheming, she never thought Marcus might be gay, too self-important and vain to learn more about the people around her unless she was interested in them. She could not see a way out. All her carefully laid plan just burst out into the open. The romantic images of her and Joel riding off into the sunset together now a darkened fantasy.

“I just don’t see why we can’t be together Joel!” she pleaded, “We are perfect together. We work well together. We look good together! Why would you want some dried-up old maid when you can have me, Joel?” her face now wet with self-pitying tears, her hands reaching out to take his face in her hands. He slapped them away.

“Vanessa,” he said, his voice shaky and dangerously low. “I told you, many times, that I am not interested in you like that. We are patrol partners, in fact, after tonight, I wouldn’t even call us that, much less friends,” he continued, taking careful, deep breaths.

“Joel! Please Joel, give us a chance. I am so much better for you than she ever will be Joel, we could be so happy,” she pleaded, trying to take his hands. He took a step back, choosing his words carefully, fists clenched by his sides, trembling slightly.

“You will never speak to me again, you understand? Stay away from my family. You are going to tell everyone what you have done. If anyone still believed us to be couple by Monday, or if I hear you say anything bad about Maddie, or see you so much as look her way, so help me God, I will feed you to the clickers myself. Leave now Vanessa, before I forget myself and hurt you.”

Vanessa stood there like a stump. Her usually beautiful face looked exceptionally ugly under the dim lights behind the Tipsy Bison, tears streaking down her face. Unable to defend herself any longer, she turned and walked away defeatedly, her shoulders slumped.

Another uncomfortable silence surrounded the group.

“Does anyone feel stupid that we didn’t see this coming? I mean, if we had just asked Joel in the first place…” Tommy said, glaring at Maria, who was now regretting not doing just that.

A slew of uncomfortable looks and silent, awkward nods followed.

More silence.

“Well,” Francis said with a deep breath, “This was fun, but I would like to go back to the party and drink my achy bones away, perhaps have a dance or two with my husband,” he said.

Marcus looked at Maddie, a small smile on his face. He kissed her on the temple before letting her go, patting Joel on the shoulder, and walking hand in hand with Francis back to the party. Tommy cleared his throat.

“Yeah, well, I think I might join them. Baby?” he looked at Maria, holding his hand out for hers.

Maria reached out and gave Maddie a quick hug, before taking her husband’s hand and walking away with him. Ellie gave an exasperated sigh at her parental figures.

“Seriously people. You call yourselves my parents? Even I know to communicate, even if it’s just slamming doors. Sheesh,” she said, before starting to walk away. She stopped dead in her tracks, turned to the two of them and said, “By the way, I will be spending tonight at Dina’s. You two should be alone, and… erm… ‘talk’,” she said cheekily, before running off.

Alone at last, Joel and Maddie stayed silent for a while, both awkwardly shuffling their feet while looking at anything their eyes would land on but each other. Joel finally broke the tension, taking her hand, leading her to a bench in front of the clinic. Ellie was right, it’s time they finally talked. Sitting side by side, they shared what Vanessa had been doing as far as they knew.

***

Vanessa’s poison ran deep. She had always been friendly with everyone on the patrol team but set her eyes on Joel from the moment he arrived. She saw how closed up and private he was, so she spent the first couple of months being friendly to him, just a partner, patrolling together, idle chit chats while on duty. Eventually, she managed to get him to talk about Maddie and Ellie, and she saw how Maddie was her main competitor for his affection.

She got him to trust her, be his confidant, as much of a confidant as one can be for the very private Joel Miller. Encouraged him to tell Maddie about his feelings. She listened to him and acted all excited when he told her she had agreed to go out for drinks with him.

She took advantage of Maddie’s absence during her care for Mr. Crushed-by-his-Fridge. Be all buddy-buddy with him, all dressed up, while subtly becoming more and more physical with him. A touch here, a hug there, a head on the shoulder here, an arm around his there… friendly, but friendlier than usual.

She planted the idea of Maddie and Marcus in his head. Joel didn’t bite, so she changed tactics.

She planted the idea of her and Joel in Maddie’s head. She asked her to “do a girl a solid” and let the two of them have some “alone time”. She knew clinic staff stayed at the apartment above the clinic sometimes.

Vanessa ‘accidentally’ ran into him early in the morning the next day, Joel out of his mind with worry because he had just realized that Maddie did not come home that night. She told him she saw her going up to the apartment. She hit the jackpot when Marcus was there too. Now Joel was devastated, heartbroken that Maddie had found someone else.

Vanessa offered her couch, or even her bed for him to stay at, so Maddie and Marcus can have some alone time, they were a new couple after all. He was broken-hearted but decided to stay out of the house for a bit, but not at Vanessa’s. He chose the keeper’s room at the stable instead, sleeping there for almost a week, worried that he might react badly if Marcus came to the house.

Joel still refused her advances on him, insisting that they are only patrol partners. So, she upped her game plan. She subtly pushed the idea of her and Joel being together to Maria and Ellie. Maybe they will start saying her name more to him, be supportive of the idea, this would somehow push Joel into entertaining the idea of them being together.

The plan backfired. Instead of pushing Joel towards Vanessa, Ellie acted out, unhappy that her ‘parents’ were avoiding each other. Joel and Maddie stayed together for Ellie’s sake, rather than separating.

As a last-ditch effort, Vanessa concocted the delusional plan that she and Joel were planning to move in together, effectively planting the idea that Joel wanted her in, and Maddie out. The Ellie and the garage conversation was just an unplanned bonus, but the plan worked. Maddie was hurt enough to distance herself further from Joel, making him feel defeated. To Vanessa’s detriment, Joel still wouldn’t see her as more than a friend.

So, when she saw him injured at the clinic, she took the opportunity to give Joel some PDA to push in Maddie’s face, and Marcus coming in to protect Maddie helped convince Joel further that they really were together. But instead of being sad and finally giving in to Vanessa's advances, Joel chose to just be 'happy' for Maddie, just the way Maddie was for him. Even after all that, Joel stood firm - he was not interested in Vanessa like that. She had asked him to go to the Bison as her date, but he refused. She was determined to stick to Joel that night, never letting him go out of her sight, knowing he was too much of a gentleman to push her away in public. He had refused to dance with her at all, his eyes fixed on Maddie, who spent the entire night dancing merrily in Marcus’s arms. Vanessa kept mentioning what a lovely couple they were, Joel now obviously believing that Maddie and Marcus were indeed a couple. She was convinced that he will give in - just a little more time. All seemed to be going her way.

That was, until Francis walked in.

***

The two took deep breaths together, angry at themselves for letting themselves be fooled by this poisonous woman.

“We need to communicate better,” Joel said, shaking his head in disbelief, chuckling a little at the stupidity of it all.

Maddie could only nod in agreement, feeling drained and stupid for letting these lies cloud her judgments. But… something was missing. She looked at him questioningly,

“Wait, so if you were never with Vanessa, who were you with? I heard you having sex, Joel. I ran out so fast my feet almost caught fire.”

Joel frowned, searching his mind, trying to figure out what she was talking about. He hadn’t had se… oh no… God no… his face turned red at the realisation of what she heard. Words formed in his mind, trying to explain the situation she was referring to, one where he thought he was alone in the house for, but broken, disconnected words were all he managed to get out,

“Erm… sex? I haven’t had… not since… erm… I was not having sex… I was… erm… well… wait, you didn’t happen to hear your name too, did you?” his ears were now so red she could see the colour change even in the dim lighting of the sidewalk.

Realisation dawned on Maddie’s face, turning red on its own accord. Both of their faces now red hot from embarrassment, laughing softly. They continued sitting there, shoulders almost touching, their bodies swaying together to the faraway music from the square.

“So… you are not with Marcus?” Joel finally asked, a small smile on his blushing face.

Maddie smiled shyly, shaking her head slightly. “And you, you are not with Vanessa?” she asked him back.

“Never,” he said, shuffling closer to her. “I actually have a huge crush on my roommate,” he said, turning his body towards her, offering her his hands, “In fact, I am certain that I am in love with her.”

Maddie took his hands in hers, tears falling down on her cheeks. Joel kissed them away silently, putting his forehead on hers, whispering her name.

“Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry,” he said quietly, before taking her face in his hands, bringing her lips to his own, kissing her for the first time.

He held her tight, arms surrounding her, never wanting to let go. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers caressing his curls, sighing contentedly into the kiss. He deepened the kiss, swallowing her moans as she melted into his body. He stopped himself before the kiss turned desperate, very much aware they were on a sidewalk in front of the clinic, in perfect view of the townsfolk who were still going to the Bison. He took her by the hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and asked her if he could take her home.

“My apartment is just through that door,” she whispered in his ears, pointing to the door behind him.

Joel’s body tensed. Without saying another word, he lifted her up bridal style, earning a shriek from her, and carried her up the stairs to the small apartment. He kicked the door closed before placing her gently on the twin bed in the middle of the room. He joined her on the bed, hovering over her, not caring that the bed was far too small for the both of them.

“Joel, your arm, we shouldn’t,” Maddie began, but he silenced her with a long, deep kiss.

“So, I hear you are in love with your roommate,” Maddie said. Joel chuckled shyly, his nose rubbing against hers. “Well guess what?” she asked, as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m in love with my roommate too,” she told him. His face lit up, and he claimed her lips again.

Joel didn’t want to leave any room for Maddie to doubt his desire for her that night. He took her slowly, thoroughly, his lips and tongue covering every bit of skin he unraveled when undressing her, leaving her moaning, squirming and breathless before she was even naked. When he finally took her soaked underwear off, the growl he let out had her wondering if he was secretly some sort of an animal, and boy oh boy was he one. He devoured her like he was some famished man who had spent his days peeking longingly into the window of a high-class restaurant he couldn’t possibly afford, ravenous from the deprivation of the ultimate feast that seemed unreachable for him until that very moment - her. Joel’s name became a prayer, ranging from desperate whiny whispers all the way to full blown screams that became hoarser and hoarser as the night went on. Maddie swore she saw God at least three times before his shirt was even off, shocked that he still had a full head of those beautiful curls from how hard she was pulling at them, legs shaking, chest heaving, her entire body flushed from the pleasure he had given her.

When she had calmed down, she climbed atop him, slowly torturing him with soft kisses, kitten licks and caresses, taking her time exploring his body, beginning from his eyebrows, going further and further down until he was so hard his entire body was shaking uncontrollably, his brain deprived from all the blood it needed, his words slurred and mumbled. She was amazed by the power she had over him at that moment – Joel Miller, the resident town grump, the man who ran amok through an entire hospital to save his daughter, the heroic alpha who could slash his way through bands of clickers and raiders alike – reduced to babbling nonsensical mumbo jumbo that almost had her giggling from satisfaction. When she slowly lowered his boxers, she blew softly on his unraveled manhood, leaving him gasping for air, his trembling body suddenly stock still from the pleasure a simple puff of air provided. She wet her lips, her mouth watering at the sight, and lowered her head to finally, finally taste him. But before she could even touch him, his hands stopped her, his body flipping her onto her back. He placed his head on her chest, telling her in a strained voice with much certainty that if she were to touch him at that moment, he would spontaneously combust.

Slowly, with their lips locked together in a passionate kiss, he entered her, inch by impressive inch, pulling back slightly, going deeper with each tortuously slow thrust, until he stilled, whispering to her between kisses that he needed a moment, fully encased in her warmth, his thick tip nudging at a spot Maddie never knew existed until now. She forgot how to breathe, her entire body responding to this much welcomed and long overdue union, the coil in her belly bubbling hot just from this one initial nudge, her insides involuntarily clenching to find release. He almost screamed, before composing himself, taking deep breaths, shutting his eyes from her reaction. He begged her, pleaded with her not to move, not to clench, his entire body straining from trying not to burst, his arms holding her tight, his face, neck and chest red from the effort, his teeth gritted, his eyes shut tight, beads of sweat glistening all over his beautiful face. She in turn was begging him over and over to forgive her, her body wasn’t listening to his pleas. She’s sorry, she’s sorry, she’s so very sorry, she couldn’t help it. Despite him not moving at all, she was too close, too hungry, too desperate for release, her core continuously squeezing him so tightly, milking him for all he had to give her, pulsating around him again and again until her entire body shook with unmitigated pleasure, stars bursting behind her eyes, sending her to heaven and back, a silent scream releasing from her open mouth, her hands clutching at his back, her vision whitened, her ears ringing, taking him with her to nirvana.

When she could finally breathe again, the room was quiet, save for their quivering breaths. His body was slumped over hers, his head in the crook of her neck. She held him tight, her fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on his back, a satisfied smile on her face. The silence was finally broken by his muffled voice, mumbled into her neck, before he managed to muster the energy to lift his head, his face red from embarrassment, having finished so early, inciting giggles from her. He buried his face in her neck again, mortified by his body’s betrayal, while she kept assuring him between sweet kisses that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. After all, she said, there’s always the next time. Wiggling his eyebrows, he kissed her with a smile, and promised vehemently that he would make up for it.

And after a short rest, he did make up for it, again and again that night. He made up for it again on Sunday morning despite complaining that the small bed had fucked his back, again after breakfast, while packing, showering, once more before leaving that evening, and one more time for good measure when he finally took her home, to their now shared bedroom.

***

The very tired but glowing couple walked to the clinic Monday morning, fingers entwined with one another’s. Maddie was due to start her shift, and Joel’s back and arm needed looking at, his back extremely sore and some of his stitches ripped from… unplanned strenuous activities. They were greeted by a very annoyed looking Marcus, a bucket of cleaning supplies at his feet. He complained that the apartment smelt like sex, unable to hide the smile behind his faux annoyance. So, Maddie’s sole duty for the day was to sanitize that apartment top to bottom, so that Marcus could actually get his rest there when needed without having to worry about… contamination.

As delusional as Vanessa had been in her concoction of her torrid sexcapades with Joel, she was right about one thing. The man may be middle aged, but he was young where it counted. The man was insatiable. Ever since that Saturday night, he couldn’t leave Maddie alone, hands constantly on her. Whenever they were in the same room, a part of him must be touching her at all times. A hand on her thigh, his little finger hooked on hers, his chest on her back, his arm around her shoulder, his fingers interlaced with hers, his chin on her shoulder, his arms around her waist, and those were when there were others around. When alone, those ‘innocent’ (his words, not hers) touches were always accompanied by his lips on her person, his talented tongue joining in on the action not long after. And well, the rest… followed.

Ellie made sure to knock as loudly as she could before going into any room in the house now, even open areas like the corridor, the living room or the kitchen, using anything she could use to make as much noise as she could, eyes closed tight until Joel or Maddie responded, her mind still haunted by what she saw when she walked in on her parents going at it like rabbits on the couch, which she steadfastly refused to sit on now, even after they made a show of thoroughly cleaning it in front of her.

“It’s the mental image of it, guys, you’re gonna have to scrub my actual brain to get rid of that,” she exclaimed, “Can’t believe you mowed down an entire hospital to save me, and then let me go through THAT…” she mumbled under her breath, shaking her head. “Let’s erm… get the ‘me moving into the garage bit’ going yeah? So, I don’t fear for my mental health much longer?” The girl had been through literal and figurative hell and back, and walking in on her parents having sex was still the worst thing she had ever seen.

Their life and routines together flourished. As far as Jackson were concerned, they were a family. Sure, the ladies still ogled Joel like he was a popsicle on a hot day, but Maddie now knew for sure that he only had eyes for her.

Vanessa had been taken out of Joel’s patrol team and placed on wall duty, partnered with only women, most of whom acted like she wasn’t there unless needed. Life hadn’t been easy for her since that night. Word of her scheming had spread like wildfire, and the ladies of Jackson, even the single ones, avoided her like the plague, worried she would go after their men. Even the men avoided her - save for some shameless lecherous ones who only wanted one thing from her – worried that they would be trapped by her. Safe to say that any hopes for her to settle down and have a family was long gone.

She in turn, avoided the Millers as much as she could, turning around and going another direction whenever she saw them. She couldn’t avoid going to the clinic when she needed treatment, but she had no choice. Thankfully, Maddie and Marcus were much too classy to treat her like a leper, her shame was enough of a punishment without them having to add to it.

***

A year later, Ellie ran into the house in such a rush she didn’t have time to knock, running upstairs, barging into her parents’ room with her eyes closed tight, a hectic scrambling on the bed letting her know she had been right to do so.

“Guys, Tommy sent me, Maria’s in labour!” she yelled.

Maddie and Joel dressed quickly, Maddie telling Ellie to go get Marcus.

“Tommy already went to get him. And eww Maddie, wash your hands! God knows what part of Joel you just touched,” she squirmed, eyes still closed shut. She turned around to leave, muttering under her breath, “With all your canoodling I am shocked Maria’s having a baby and not you…”

Joel and Maddie looked at each other, a knowing smile on their faces.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Solace 🤎

You've ordered: a black coffee with milk and honey on the side! enjoy!

"I never know what to think about"

Prescott Churchill x Phantomhive servant! reader | word count: 992 words

Summary: the newest servant in the Phantomhive manor is having trouble finding solace in sleep, so you offer some assistance 🤎 (short little drabble)

Warnings: not rlly a warning but, i refer to him as Scott rather than Prescott in the fic. other than that, none!

Note: Prescott is NOT my oc!! he belongs to this wonderful artist, @oya-oya-okay. (go check out her blog, she's the sweetest <3) also, oya, i'm so sorry if i've mischaracterized him 😭 i tried my best to write with the info you've given. Hope you like it!! 🤍

Mr. Churchill was a rather...peculiar man in your eyes.

No, he wasn't eccentric in a bad way or bubbling with life. Actually...it seemed he was almost devoid of all emotion entirely. Or at least, that's what you thought.

He'd mainly keep to himself, not really saying much when you'd tried to strike up conversation with him a few times. He wouldn't even look you in the eyes, just awkwardly glancing elsewhere as he gave you an answer in a way that made it seem like he'd wish you'd just leave him alone.

You knew little to nothing about what Scott's life was like before entering the Phantomhive manor and you didn't want to know. You'd rather not pry into his personal life, afraid of bringing up something that should stay hidden.

But all in all, you rather liked Scott. He was kind and hardworking and honest. He never complained or was difficult to deal with. Just...emotionally reserved you assumed.

It was currently midnight, Sebastian having put Ciel to sleep a few hours ago. All of the other servants were asleep in their rooms, including you.

The sudden sensation of thirst woke you up from your otherwise peaceful slumber. You carefully shuffled out of bed and made your way out of your room, carefully and quietly making your way to the kitchen.

As you poured yourself a glass of water and drank it, you felt sleep taking over once again. Making your way back down the hallway, you noticed a figure standing near one of the windows. The moonlight illuminated the side of their face, that worn and exhausted expression very familiar.

"Scott?" you murmured softly as to not scare him. The brown haired man glanced away from the window, his eyes widening just a tad.

"Y/N?" His voice was low and tired, the exhaustion he'd tried to hide during the busy day finally evident.

"Why are you up so late?" you asked, hoping you didn't come off as rude for asking.

"...Had trouble sleeping..." he answered truthfully, returning his gaze to the window. You quietly stood beside him, frowning to yourself upon hearing that.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that. Would you like to maybe chat a bit? Get your mind off of things?" you offered. Scott was silent before mumbling a soft "Yes."

A few moments later, you two found yourselves laying in your bed, a reasonable distance between the two of you. Your chat wasn't very fruitful, its contents just about work and how he liked it at the manor.

"Everyone's rather...eccentric in their own way, I guess..." Scott explained, his fingers smoothing over the blanket.

"Mmm, I guess you could say that. But we all mean well and we're glad to have you here as a part of the manor." you hummed, tracing an invisible pattern onto the bedsheets with your finger.

"Have you always had trouble sleeping?" you asked, looking at him as you laid opposite each other.

"Yeah. I just can't seem to silence my thoughts..." he muttered, his eyes looking away from yours.

"If you don't mind me asking...what are the thoughts that keep you awake?"

Ha, if only you knew. If only you knew the truth, the horrors of his past and what they did to him. Being left with half a soul was not an easy thing to deal with.

Scott shook his head, his fingers absentmindedly clutching the fabric of the blanket.

"Not very...pleasant ones..."

You didn't want to pry, not wanting to remind him of whatever he was trying to avoid.

You wanted to help him, even if it was just a little. After a few seconds, you spoke up again.

"...Could I...touch your hair?" When you asked that, Scott finally looked at you, his expression a bit different before his eyes glanced away from you again.

There was a bit of silence between you two, an awkward sigh leaving your lips. "Whenever I couldn't sleep as a child, my mother would play with my hair until I'd fall asleep. It worked every time, so I was just suggesting it..." you explained.

In the darkness, you could see Scott nod his head a little, his eyes trained on some random spot on the wall.

You nodded in return, reaching your hand over and carefully placing it on his head. You were surprised at how soft his hair was, your fingers gently caressing the warm brown strands.

Scott didn't say anything, but you swore you could see his eyes meet yours for a split second before he looked away again.

Another blanket of awkward silence covered the two of you, the sounds of your breathing and the faint rustling of your fingers in his hair the only sounds that could be heard.

After what seemed like forever, Scott finally spoke up. "...Thank you." he murmured, his eyes finally closing.

"You're welcome..." you hummed, a soft smile forming on your lips.

"You know...I haven't been very close with many people in my life. Having you all welcome me with open arms and no questions asked is a bit...strange. But also very comforting."

Your heart swelled at Scott's words, a sense of relief filling your mind. Your fingertips carefully brushing some of his hair out of his closed eyes before settling back into his soft brown locks.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Scott...I'm very glad."

Before long, you started to doze off yourself, your hand soon stilling in his hair as you fell asleep. Scott's eyes opened as he glanced over at your sleeping form, some strange feeling flooding his senses. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it felt...nice. Like something he hadn't felt in years.

Scott reached up and gently rested his hand on top of yours that was in his hair. His fingers gently brushed against yours, that strange tingle in his heart coming back.

Maybe you could make him feel again. Maybe, just maybe...you could make him whole again. 🤎

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[phoenix-writer2]

🅼🅸🅳🅽🅸🅶🅷🆃 🅲🆄🅳🅳🅻🅴🆂

synopsis: Kenma loves to cuddle with you

pairing: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, cuddle, late night, no prof reading, kind of short i think

Note: I just had this idea about Kenma and thought why not writing it. Enjoy it♥️

The room was silent. The moon shone like hundreds of stars at once, illuminating the large room with its healing light. Neon lights hung on the walls on the right side of the room, on the left side the lights were off.

A bed stood against the left wall. Fluffy pillows and blankets were fluffed up and a figure was buried underneath. Hair spread across the pillow, you breathed in and out deeply, listening to the all-too-familiar sounds of key clicks and mouse movements. You couldn't sleep, even though the clock screamed painfully in your ear that you had to get up and go to school again in a few hours. But still your head couldn't shut off. You turn your head and squint your eyes against the bright light of the screen. You watched as the person in front of the computer skillfully operated the keys and mastered the video game inside with precision.

Blond, black hair was tied into an unpresentable bun and the oversized sweater was pulled over her head without care or order. The light from the blue LEDs enveloped his body and made him look almost angelic. You would never have thought that this genius in front of you at the gaming table would one day be your boyfriend. Kenma always seemed like the person who never wanted anything to do with love and relationships.

He was more interested in volleyball and video games. But this was actually the reality. For almost two years now, there was something else that kept the bored Kenma alive, something he became addicted to. And that was you. Your voice, your warmth, your laugh, simply your whole presence. he had fallen head over heels in love with you and this love was growing stronger day by day.

You always knew what he needed. Whether it was affection or his rest. You were always there for him. And he couldn't be happier to have you. “Can't sleep?” His voice lit up the room. You hummed. “Too much on my mind,” you mumble and pull the blanket even further over your body. Kenma hummed. Fingers pressed the keys of his keyboard and you could faintly hear the voices of his teammates through his heasset. With tired eyes, you watched as the word “Winner” was written on the large screen.

Kenma said something into the microphone of his confidant and took the device from his ears. Your ears picked up the sound of movement and you noticed how the lights diminished. Finally, the humming of the computer stopped and there was silence in the room. A few seconds later, you heard footsteps coming to the bed and the blanket being lifted.

You sigh contentedly as you feel Kenma's warmth next to you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you to his chest and rubbed circles on the lower part of your back with his index finger. Your body immediately relaxed in his embrace. “Get some sleep,” Kenma whispered in your ear. “I'm not going anywhere.” And with those words, the fog came over you, the smell of apple pie lingered in your nose and you sank into his embrace.

A short time later, kenma also fell asleep with you safe in his arms, as if he was afraid you wouldn't be here when he woke up. Neither of you noticed the moon, which looked down on you with its silver light like a smile and gave you its blessing. For him, you really were the perfect couple. And midnight cuddles were part of such a relationship.

Do not copy my work!

[tenebrius-excellium]

Reverse Httyd AU

Chapter 1

Setting: Hiccup slips out the back door after the latest of Berk's dragon raids to hunt for the one dragon he shot down.

Notes: This is my first written thing on Tumblr ever. I'm very shy about it haha. Please excuse language errors since English isn't my native language. This is also not beta read, and I don't know if I'll continue writing here. I see this single chapter more as one part of the big creative collage of art pieces, writings, headcanons, and other artistic concepts that have been happing for this AU (see pinned post). Have fun with it though! You are welcome to leave feedback!

Hiccup watched, mouth agape but eyes tired, as one last fireball trailed in a perfect canopy across the sky and hit the Larsson’s house, setting ablaze what a whole group of vikings had been trying to protect since about midnight. And…nothing ever changes, he thought to himself, watching the tiles catch sparks faster than anyone could scream for water. The Larsson’s house was a frequent burner during raids, since it sat along the main square of the village, directly in the flight path of the usual first wave of dragon attacks, because access from the sky was well granted there. Unfortunately, the house also sat directly adjacent to the smithy, and Berk’s Chief could and would not risk having the most important depot of their weaponry catch on fire every other raid as well because of Larsson’s. So each dragon raid, a battalion made of the teens of Berk stood at the ready to specifically defend the Larsson’s home from being torched. They usually succeeded in leaving the building a smoking, dripping wet wooden ribcage coated in ashy sludge and new black marks, but standing proud at morning’s light, ready to receive a brand new roof covering when the sun rose high. Yeah…not this time.

The dragon that had fired the blast left with a satisfied squawk and set out over the vast horizon, Angus Ingerman’s largest pickled fish between its claws, which the fisherman had hung from a hook in front of his shop, ready to sell it that same morning. The dragons retreated. Soon they vanished over the sea, towards the Northwest as always, and a thin plate of sunshine peeled itself out of the water’s mist in the East. Once again, daylight found Berk in destruction’s wake, and already the jingling of nails in someone’s toolbox could be heard, as the supplies for the rebuild were brought out. It was quick, as sure as it was routine, and…

“Hiccup!” A massive fist caught Hiccup at the collar of his tunic. It was dragging him more towards the center of the town square than his own two feet were carrying him, and Hiccup tried to roll his eyes scrambling for ground, while he really felt the punch of panic and humiliation well up from his gut all the way to his cheeks, which became a spotty red in anticipation of having to justify his whereabouts.

“Dad”, he sputtered, coughing for air more out of nervousness than from the giant viking’s burly grip. “I told you I hit a dragon! It’s not like the last few times, Dad, I mean, I really actually hit one… You guys were busy, and I had a very clear shot, it went down just off Raven Point…” His mind rushed to get the words out while the Chief was still listening. “Let’s get a search party out there, before...”

“Stop it!”, bellowed his father, letting go of him and turning towards him. The Chief flung his hands up in the air in frustration. “Just…stop! Every time you step outside, son, disaster follows! Can you not see that I have bigger problems!? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed!”

Hiccup’s tongue offered a snarky remark before his own brain could remind him that this wasn’t a good place or a good time. “Well, between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don’t you think?” Silence. It was neither the time nor the place for this, and Hiccup bit his lip. But he was so used to just basically saying whatever with nobody caring for his mutterings, that moments like these tended to happen when he forgot himself.

The villagers, some of whom had inadvertedly surrounded the conversation, frowned. Stoick the Chief puffed, red in the face: “This isn’t a joke, Hiccup! Oh, why can’t you follow the simplest orders?”

“I can’t stop myself”, Hiccup exclaimed in an almost desperate manner. “I see a dragon, and I have to just…kill it, you know? It’s… who I am, Dad.”

More silence. The lie he told himself burned in Hiccup’s head, but, again. He was used to saying anything without it having value. It didn’t matter. The Chief sighed. Then he said: “You are many things, Hiccup, but a dragon killer is not one of them. Get back to the house.”

Turning to Gobber the blacksmith, his right-hand man and Hiccup’s supervisor at work, he shouted: “Make sure he gets there! I have this mess to clean up.”

Hiccup started walking without waiting for the older man.

Overt snickering followed the boy as he made his way onto the familiar path leading home. The fire brigade teens were laughing and making faces. Hiccup angrily trudged along. Gobber came up behind him, trying to talk it out. Hiccup just snapped at him. Whatever consoling words his mentor attempted to offer, they were no help to the reality that once again he, Hiccup, had been made solely responsible for a failed defense against a dragon raid. Words didn’t change the fact that his father was still so disappointed in him that he could not even see the progress to Hiccup’s efforts to contribute. How proud he had been to extend the bola launcher’s firing range! Three failed live attempts it had cost him to get it right, but even now that he had triumphed and actually shot down a dragon, it hadn’t been enough to immediately make all the difficulty go away. The upset looks were still going into his direction, the sneering and jeering of his peers was still aimed at his ears. What had he expected? His father wasn’t listening. Nobody was listening.

They don’t know yet. They’re gonna know. Just have a little more patience, he tried to calm himself as Gobber kept jabbering about pointless things that Hiccup guessed were supposed to be awkward, placating encouragements. “Look, the point is: Stop trying so hard to be something you’re not…”

“Thank you for summing that up. Gobber, I’m sorry, it’s not helping. I just wanna be one of you guys, and it’s not…it didn’t happen today. Goodbye.” He slammed the door in the older man’s face. Shaking with anger, he stayed there for a moment in the dark, before he heard Gobber sigh and move to return to the square. Hiccup waited until the hollow sound of the blacksmith’s wooden leg was no longer audible. Then he darted across the single lower room of his home, hastily grabbing supplies left and right, fitting them into a small leather bag. A knife, his sketchbook, a coal pen, a pair of pliers. Fresh rope, and an empty water skin. He’d need to stop for water on the way if he was going to spend all afternoon in the woods, getting his hands dirty, hunting for that dragon. A quiet sense of satisfaction returned when Hiccup took a last look at his equipment. Only a few precious hours more, and he would have the power to change his entire fate. Hiccup smiled. Ducking beneath the low part of the ceiling where the stairs ascended, he spotted his helmet and grabbed that, too. Might as well do it properly. Soundlessly, he slipped out the back door.

[fishwithtitz]

A Simple Existence (a Papa Emeritus IV x f!reader one shot)

A/N: This one was written specifically for my sweet cheese, my main babe Jen (@copias-juicebox). Her birthday was on Wednesday and this is a very belated present created with her in mind. Girl, you wanted subby sweet Copia, you got him! Love you so much and I'm so happy I met you. Alles Gute zum nachträglichen Geburtstag!

Also, special shout out to @anamelessfool, @eyeslikelilith, and @portaltothevoid for beta'ing and feedback <3

If you'd like to be on my tag list, please comment!

⛧⛧⛧

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Papa Emeritus IV x f!reader / 5.1k words

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, hints at dub-con (if you squint?), oral sex, piv, language, cock worshipping

ao3 link

Over the past few weeks, it had become more commonplace for Papa Emeritus IV to be sitting at his cherry wood desk, pen in hand as he rifled through various Ministry tasks late into the night. 

To many, Papa was a figurehead of the church — both through his leadership in the spiritual sector of the Ministry and as frontman of the Ghost project. But so many didn’t realize the influence he had within the planning and implementation of the church and its projects as a whole. 

It was almost as if he breathed much-needed oxygen into the lungs of the abbey and transfused his own lifeblood into the theatrics of the band. The Ministry was, to put it simply, his everything. It was something you had come to love and loathe about the man.

Tonight was no different than any other night the past few weeks. Copia sat perched in his worn office chair (the one he’d taken with him from his stay at the abbey in Venice during his time as a bishop), papal paint smeared somewhat from the occasional swipe of his palm against his cheeks as he thought through a complex task. A banker’s lamp and the starlight were the only sources of illumination in the office space — a tell of how late into the evening it had become. 

You’d sat up night after night waiting for your Papa to come back to his chambers at a reasonable hour. Most nights ended with you falling asleep as you sat  against the headboard in your shared bed or lounged on the loveseat in the sitting room. Tonight, however, you’d had enough. You were worried that the ministry was taking advantage of the Satanic pope’s hardworking and passionate spirit and the last thing you wanted was for him to spiral into burn out. Tonight, you would put your foot down. 

It was a short walk from the Papal chambers to Copia’s office. You’d made the trek what felt like hundreds of times and this specific time, it was as if the route had been cut in half. Perhaps that was the speed at which your bare feet carried you, or perhaps it was the simmering frustration you had bubbling in your chest. Nevertheless, you didn’t bother to knock before you pushed on the oaken double doors to Papa’s workspace. 

As soon as you shut the heavy door behind you, Papa’s head sprung up in alarm as if he had been shaken out of a trance. You walked into the spacious office, nightgown flowing behind you like an estuary, and stopped a couple of meters away from where he sat. 

“Il amore mio, what are you doing h-”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You found yourself cutting off his tired greeting.

Copia pressed his thumb and forefinger against his temples, gently rubbing them as he closed his eyes in defeated frustration. “I haven’t looked at the clock in a while.”

“It’s nearly one in the morning,” you answered for him, taking a step towards the cherrywood desk. “Come to bed.  It’s not doing you any good burning the midnight oil.”

Copia’s hand dropped from his temples and on any other occasion, you would smirk at the sight of the smudged paint on his fingertips. “I assure you that I have plenty of fuel left for this candle’s flame, amore mio,” he said. 

“But you’re burning it at both ends!” you retorted, voice raising in a mix of sympathy and frustration. “Copia, it’s not a matter of if you’ll drive yourself into the ground but when.” You moved to round the large wooden desk, and as you approached him, your expression softened. “All of this can wait until tomorrow,” you said, voice slightly calmer now.

You shifted behind him and snaked your arms around his shoulders, resting them on his strong chest. Your lips pressed to the hair atop his head.  The salt-and-pepper streaked strands that once were combed back on his head but had since begun to fall into his eyes and around his temples. “Just, come to sleep. I miss you. I miss my Papa.”

And you realized that this man, this hopelessly devoted man beneath the cloak of your arms was the picture of leadership. A perfect blend of authority and quiet strength. Measured. Loving. Dedicated. And when necessary, absolutely ruthless. 

Papa sighed at your admission and reached up to place his non-dominant hand over one of yours, his pen still gripped tight in the other. “Il mio amore,” he began, voice apologetic and oddly tinged with dampened annoyance, “you must understand that I am everyone’s Papa. The work I do is necessary to maintain and grow the ministry — our outreach, our education, charity — the very diffusion of our beliefs lies within my leadership.”

At his dismissal, you felt your grip around him loosen, your hands sliding from around his shoulders as you stepped away from him. “You think I don’t know that? You are one man, Copia. You can’t do it all,” you began as you ran your hand through your hair in frustration. You stepped to the side to better face him, hoping to see him — even just a glance at the mismatched eyes you were growing to love. “I’m tired of watching you run yourself ragged trying. And quite frankly, I’m tired of being left behind while you choose your work over everything else in your life.”

Copia’s eyes finally rose to meet yours. His voice changed from his more understanding and apologetic (possibly even patronizing) tone to one of seriousness. “My work is my duty…my oath to the lightbringer, to his infernal majesty.”

The earlier simmering of frustration in your chest came to a roaring boil at his retort and you moved to face him, arms crossed over your chest as you leaned just slightly over his desk. “Well, I suppose it’s good to know where your duties lie.”

With that, you left the office, leaving Copia to ruminate in the reverberating slam of the heavy oak door and the ringing of your words repeating in his head.

Copia tried his best to finish up the task he’d been in the middle of when you’d stopped by his office at the end of the clergy wing, but no matter how much he attempted to focus, he couldn’t drag his mind away from the argument you’d just shared. Perhaps you were right. Perhaps he had been neglectful in other areas of his life. After a light yawn escaped from his lips, he decided to pack up his work and return back to your shared room. Afterall, he probably owes you an apology.

He didn’t even remember walking back to the papal chambers, the weight of his exhaustion being so heavy that it dulled his sense of time. Despite this, when he entered your shared room, he still had the wherewithal to show slight shock that you were still awake and waiting for him on the sitting room chaise. 

“Tesoro,” he started, walking around the loveseat to approach you, “I am sorry for the way that I spoke earlier—”

His apology was cut off, however, when you held up a hand as if to nonverbally signal for him to stop. His eyebrows creased just slightly in confusion.

“Go to our bedroom and get undressed,” you said, voice devoid of any emotion yet strangely demanding given your usual countenance. As he opened his mouth to protest, you raised an eyebrow, holding your hand up again to silence him once more. With this, Copia’s eyes adopted a slight glimmer and his lips fought the desire to curve into a smirk. He knew what this meant. 

He took a step closer to you and his voice lowered as he spoke. “You want to play Papa tonight, dolcezza?” As he approached you, you fought the desire to conform to him, to allow him to take hold of the reins that he so often gripped. 

You steadied your countenance and gave him a simple nod in retort. 

This time, his lips made the final curve into the smirk he had tried to withhold. As he made his way into the bedroom, his gloveless hand reached towards his neck to loosen his blue cravat (a favorite of yours, he remembered), and unfasten the buttons lining the center of his shirt. He shrugged both of them off and set them on the bench at the foot of the bed before working to remove his pants, belt, shoes, and socks. Soon enough, he was left only in his boxers, and he began to move towards the bed, assuming your insistence that he get some rest.

Instead, you nonchalantly walked by him as you rounded the four-poster bed. “I said undressed, Papa,” you remarked coolly.

He turned to look at you, eyebrows raised once more, before his expression crinkled slightly. “As you wish, amore mio,” he said. Your face remained stoic.

The truth was, as you waited for him to return from his office after your discussion, you realized that you had two choices. You could be angry with him for the neglect he’d shown to your relationship. It would definitely be well-founded, and you had every right to give him a prolonged cold shoulder in retaliation. 

Or, you could approach the situation with the empathy you had craved from him. You could help him realize that his ascension to papacy did not require him to work himself to the bone. On the contrary, it should allow him to revel in the devotion that others craved to provide to him.

You’d decided on the latter.

Papa slid the silken fabric of his boxers down his toned legs (oh, how you’d love to worship those legs) and let them pool on the floor below as he stepped out of them. You motioned to the bed with nothing more than a flick of your gaze, and he sat against the edge. 

“Back against the headboard, Papa.” Your voice felt weirdly not your own. Not that you were complaining, by any means. You felt a surge of confidence and power prickling through your body and you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what he felt like when he presided over Mass. 

Copia scooted his body back to the headboard, back flush against the aged wood, and set his palms down against the pillows. After reaching down to grab his discarded cravat (to which you internally smiled as you noticed the blue hue), your feet carried you towards him, padding softly against the carpet in the papal suite, and you pulled up the sheer organza of your nightgown to reveal the thigh-high stockings you’d adorned while waiting for him to finish in his office. His pupils widened. 

Slipping them off with deliberate purpose, you gathered them both in your hands by their length and reached to grab his right wrist. Without hesitation, you looped the black nylon fabric around him and began securing him to the headboard. “You better than anyone know the values of our church,” -the nylon tightens- “the importance of self indulgence” -pull- “practicing the sin of lust” -loop- “showing our devotion to the one below through celebration of carnal desire.” He watched as you tightened the knot, testing its strength, his eyes deeply curious as he allowed this scenario to play out. You then brought forth his cravat and secured his left hand to the other side in symmetry. 

You backed away and admired your prize. There he sat — the leader of the Ministry of Satan, Papa Emeritus IV, his Unholy Eminence, looking back at you while restrained against the bed with his infernal eye burning. With what? You wondered. Curiosity? Anger? Lust? Annoyance? Intrigue? He opened his mouth to speak, and you reached forward to press a single finger to his lips. 

“You’ve spent so much time speaking on behalf of the church that I think you’ve forgotten how to listen.”

And it was true. All of his duties hung heavy on his shoulders. His ascension to papacy only seemed to increase the workload, and in recognizing his competence, the other senior clergy members dumped task after task upon him that he knew were not required of his predecessors. But, he’d wanted this. He’d yearned for it for so long. How could he stand up against the very ministry that he vowed to serve eternally?

Once more, you lifted up the flowy nightgown to reveal a pair of white satin lace panties. A symbol of purity, innocence — a stark contrast to your actions and the wicked man in front of you. Your thumbs hooked under the waistband and you slid them off, before neatly balling them up in your fist. “Open,” you directed. Surprisingly, Copia obeyed. You smirked and pushed the fabric past his lips and into his mouth, effectively silencing him. 

Your attention turned to his legs splayed out before you. His strong thighs sat parallel to one another as they rested against the pillow-top mattress. Stretching forward, you began to run your hands along each thigh, enjoying the feel of the muscles beneath your palms as they lightly flexed under your touch. “I love these thighs,” you murmured, almost to yourself. You moved to straddle him, climbing just above his knees with your legs on either side of his. Lifting your arms slightly, you loosened the front tie to the bodice of your nightgown, then pulled both breasts out of the scoop neck. They sat directly in front of his painted face, and your eyes watched his as they traveled across the expanse of your chest, his kohl-colored lips barely parted. You swore you heard a noise escape from them. 

You leaned in, breasts brushing against his bare skin as you hovered your mouth by his ear. “Patience,” you breathed, a smirk evident in your tone. As you pulled away, you licked your lips and continued. “You’ve proven that you’re very good at doling out orders. Now,” you trailed your finger down his chest, pausing at the bottom of his sternum, “let’s see if you know how to follow them.”

You knew at this moment that your attention, your affection, was what he craved. However, you also knew that for him to learn to let go, you couldn’t give him what he wanted so easily. Not just yet. So, you leaned back slightly and hovered your bare crotch against his own. You could feel the heat of the both of you and you smiled, pushing down just barely to push your mons against his length. It involuntarily twitched against you and you used this moment to pull back further, earning you a near whine from him (which you purposefully ignored). 

As you sat back against his legs, you looked back down at them, biting your lip. “Fuck, touring has done so much for you. I can’t get enough of these,” you spoke, running your hands along the skin of his quads. “You never have time to let me feel them against me. How sculpted the muscles are, how strong they feel…”

With that, you shuffled your body so that you were straddling his left thigh, your own heat ghosting against the skin of it. You began to press your core down against him, putting pressure against your clit. Looking up, you locked eyes with him. “Do you feel what they do to me?” you asked, beginning to move your hips just slightly, just so, so that he could feel your wetness slipping against him. “How wet it makes me just thinking about touching you?” 

Copia groaned against the fabric of the panties in his mouth. It was muffled but audible, which made you realize just how loud it would be without the gag. 

“And yet…you deny me? All for your work?” Your voice took on a tone of inquisitive mock innocence and hurt, and you creased your eyebrows for effect. Forgetting about the restraints, Copia moved his arms to grab onto you, but groaned again as he realized he was secured into place. 

“What was the saying? ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy?’” At this, you reached down and grabbed onto his erection, trapping it between your leg and his as you ground down on the top of his thigh, pussy pushing down much more forcefully. You let out a moan and tilted your head back at the feeling. He was nearly shaking beneath you. 

Your hips found a slow yet strong rhythm as you gyrated against him. With every forward movement, your leg squeezed against his cock and he let out a series of noises — muffled whimpers and moans — and eventually, his eyelids tightly pressed shut. 

“Is…is pastoral care one of your duties, Papa?” You breathed out, your own voice becoming more lust-dipped as you moved against him. “When you’re taking care of your flock…all of your flock…does that include their desires?” You reached up and grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “Aren’t I not part of your flock, Papa?”

He nodded in your hand, eyes nearly ablaze as he all but came undone beneath you. He was so hard it was almost painful, and as you moved above him, riding his thigh like a fucking mechanical bull, your own visage was morphed into one of powerful pleasure. Your tempo increased and you let out a shaky moan at the pressure building low in your abdomen. You were close to feeling the release you’d craved from him for god knows how long. This, along with his own impending orgasm, caused him to spit out the panties from his mouth. 

“Dolcezza, please, do not tease me like this,” he whined, words dripping with need. His papal paints were smeared around the mouth and chin from your touch and you bit your lip at the sight. He pulled on the wrist restraints. “Need you,” he choked out. You smirked and immediately ceased your motions against him. His face fell.

“Let’s see if you can use your mouth for something more useful.”

You moved from his thigh, leaving his cock unattended as it dripped for you, hungry and red, nearly pulsating. Suddenly, you stood up and straddled him, bringing your core directly to his face. His increased breath danced across the slick of your pussy and you held back a groan of your own. “If your duties lie only to the church, then maybe you should prove your devotion to honoring the one below.”

Without warning, you slid your hand into his hair and brought his mouth to your wet heat. A strangled groan erupted from him and he immediately dove in, nose against your mound as he fervently moved his tongue between your impossibly slick folds. You reached out with the hand not currently lost within his hair and gripped onto the top of the headboard to steady yourself. 

Copia flattened out his tongue and you began to buck your hips against his face, riding him as he broadly licked up and down your clit and to your entrance. You were certain you were making some sort of pleasurable sound, but at the moment, it was as if the world and all of its stimulation paused. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of his skillful mouth against you, his eyes shut as he ate you out like a starved man. 

His tongue moved to flick against your sensitive bud and he wrapped his lips around it before sucking harshly. It was a move that he knew drove you crazy, and the burning in your thighs as you tried to stabilize yourself heightened the pressure. You could feel your own legs shaking, but you continued to grind against him, and for the first time, you wished his hands weren’t restrained so that he could fuck you with his fingers, too. 

“You are so good at this,” you hummed out, looking down to watch him as you rode his face. The previous tension from your near orgasm on his thigh was back, and your own reserve was faltering. He flickered his eyes open and growled against your cunt at the sight of you above him, trembling and absolutely wrecked from arousal, and the combination of the vibration of his noises and intensity of his stare sent you reeling over the edge.

You cried out his name, head snapped back as your hand gripping onto the headboard turned white-knuckled. He continued to move his tongue up and down your folds, occasionally flicking his tongue against your oversensitive clit as he helped you through your orgasm.

Eventually, you pulled away sea-legged and released your grasp from his now messed coif, sinking down onto your knees. Your own breath was ragged and you gripped onto his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. He looked directly ahead at you with a prurient expression, the paint of his cheeks and nose and chin smeared and saturated with your arousal. In a normal situation, he’d make a racy or teasing remark, but he remained silent. It was as if he had finally learned his place. 

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you placed a solitary kiss to his sternum, relishing in the feeling of his chest hair against your lips and chin. You then moved south, mouth lightly kissing and sucking on the skin of his abdomen, the angular hip bones that framed his cock, and the trail of hair right below his belly button. 

His neglected length twitched as your face brushed against it and you smirked, sitting up just barely to look at it. Reaching out, you grasped onto him, grip firm, and began to languidly stroke. 

“How could I forget about you?” you cooed, thumb pad pressing against his frenulum before you continued your pace. “You deserve to feel good.” He groaned at the contact and his head jerked back against the solid headboard. You chuckled darkly and licked your lips at the sight of him below you. “The lightbringer would be disappointed if their chosen figurehead didn’t properly spoil in self-indulgent sins of the flesh? Wouldn’t he?”

Copia whined beneath you, but you paid no mind, continuing your slow movements. You lowered your head, breath tickling against the end of him, and began to rub his shaft and tip against your cheeks and lips. “I love your dick,” you said, voice barely above a sultry whisper. You began to press kisses to every inch of his cock, savoring him, worshiping him. 

He squirmed beneath you, and unable to restrain himself, he groaned out, “Cazzo, please.”

You stopped and peered up at him. His eyes were shining with tears of frustration and you were sure that the mix of submission and denial was pushing him to his limits. But despite the look of exasperation on his face, you knew him well enough to know what he truly desired in this moment. And he trusted you completely, fully, to deliver him to reverie. 

“Let me take care of you,” you said, pressing a kiss to the very tip of him before laving your tongue over him slowly. Copia moaned loudly and his hips twitched up into your mouth, requiring you to hold him down with your other hand. “You don’t need to control everything,” you responded, mouth still pressed against his length. 

Had you been looking up, you’d have seen him nod in response, but you were too focused on what was throbbing in front of you to pay him any mind. Lips parted, you descended down his length, taking him as far into your mouth as you possibly could. Copia hissed in response and you smirked around him. You knew that the sudden sensation of warmth would be nearly unbearable, too much, and you delighted in being the one controlling his fire. 

You hollowed out your cheeks and slowly popped off of him. With a swift readjustment of your frame, you straddled his thighs (marveling at the drying slick on the left one), and took his chin in hand. “Look at me,” you murmured, and he obliged. Your non-dominant hand traced the contour of his jaw, fingertips now glazed in white and grey paint, and you dipped your index finger between his lips as you positioned yourself over his cock and sunk down. 

The Satanic Pope’s mouth dipped open and a low groan slipped past your finger still perched on his lip. Your own center was still sensitive from your recent orgasm and the sensation of fullness was almost overwhelming, so you stilled your movement to allow for the both of you to adjust to the feeling. For the first time, you dipped your head forward and rested your forehead against his own, your hand cupping his jaw. You could feel the sweat slicked between the both of you and you closed your eyes as a soft, shaky breath escaped you.

After a moment of blissful stillness, you opened your eyes to look at the man you currently had caged in by your arms and thighs, and you carded your fingers through his hair. His gaze held a knowing fire that you recognized as one of silent permission, of need, desire, of his own restrained dominance. With that, you gripped at his hair near the scalp and tipped his head back as you lifted yourself almost completely off of his length. 

“Out there, you might be the leader of our congregation. You might proselytize to millions of siblings and fans. But right here,” your grip tightened, and you leaned in to whisper against the shell of his ear, “right now, you answer to me. How badly do you want it?”

“Merda, badly, so badly,” he growled. You pulled away and your telltale smirk returned to your features. He looked positively sinister. His face flushed beneath his skull paint and sweat was beading across his brow. Both of his eyes nearly black from lust-blown pupils. A manifestation of evil incarnate. 

“Then take it. Take everything you need.”

And take he did. His hips canted up into you and he slid in to the hilt, flesh pressed against flesh, and you fell forward into his shoulder with a near-howl of your own at the fullness. Your hands found purchase against his pecs and you matched his movements as he pumped into you frantically. Every movement stretched you further, licked flames against the sore muscles of your legs, but you ignored the pain and moved with purpose. Your lips found his and you kissed him for the first time this evening, pouring out your loyalty into the action as his tongue pushed greedily into your mouth. 

As you shifted your position atop him just slightly, his cock brushed against your g-spot and you cried out in euphoria. The corners of his lips curled against yours as he panted through his movements, knowingly hitting that spot with every single upward thrust. 

You swallowed back another moan as you tried to speak. “Fill me so good,” you nearly slurred as you pulled from the kiss. “Look at me,” you said, voice less commanding and more sweet. You knew your release was imminent and you wanted him to visualize the effect he had on you. How he made your body implode as he dragged you down to hell himself.

Your own words were rushed, nearly babbled as you continued. “Look at how good you make me feel.” His eyes locked with yours and you rested one hand on his chest, the other snaking to grasp onto the nape of his neck, while moonbeams erupted in your skin as your climax took hold. Your jaw dropped just slightly and although your mouth threatened a moan, no sound came out as he fervently bucked up into you. 

Your shared motions sped up and you could feel how close he was by the sloppiness of his thrusts as he helped you ride out your release. “Take what you need,” you repeated in a pant. “Take everything you need from me.” 

You pushed through the overstimulation and watched as his hands balled into fists in the restraints and he planted his feet firmly onto the bed, fucking up into you like he never had before. His eyes shone with unsprung tears and he was spitting out a slew of curses in Italian, with affirmations of love peppered in throughout. 

“Cazzo, dolcezza, I-” And just as hard as he had climbed, he crashed down violently. He came roughly with a sound that sounded like a mix between a groan and a sob, hips jerking as he pumped his spend into you with wild abandon. He filled you so deeply that you could feel him beginning to leak down your inner thigh as he pistoned through his orgasm. 

“So good for me,” you purred, pressing a kiss to the place where his hairline began at the top of his forehead, ignoring the sweat-soaked strands that fell into his tear-filled eyes. As you pulled away, you saw one of those tears fall and you quickly swiped it with your thumb. And with that, it was as if the dam had been broken, and both eyes began spilling rushed streams down his cheeks. 

You moved to quickly untie his wrists from the headboard and as soon as he was set free, his arms wrapped around your middle and his head fell to your chest. “So good for me,” you repeated, more of a coo this time, and you pressed another kiss to the top of his head as your hands lovingly traced up and down his back. 

You sat like that for a while, holding him as he softened inside of you, his tears and quiet sobs the backdrop of your denouement. He almost surprised you when he lifted his head to properly look at you. 

“Mi dispiace, tesoro. I don’t know…I’m not sure where this is coming from,” he admitted, thumbs rubbing against the curve of your spine. 

You smiled softly, reassuringly, and brought one of his wrists to your mouth. A red mark had formed from the friction of the cravat, and you kissed at it soothingly. “You have needs too, Papa,” you said as you continued to kiss at the sensitive skin. He hummed in response and you smiled again, this time a little wider. 

“Thank you for letting me love you.”

And in his eyes, you saw a dawning realization, a comfort of sorts that came to flood his mind. He had known this had been an exercise of shared power, of course, of allowing you to express your needs in a way that the both of you enjoyed, even though you hadn’t previously explored the swap in control. However, as you took the reins, you’d gifted him with something he hadn’t anticipated — you’d guided him to liberation, encouraging him to release his expectations (the ones he’d built up of himself and the ministry) and just be. 

Your permission for simple existence was the best thing he hadn’t known to ask for.  

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