#.... One heartline down...

[damagedpuppet]

say HELLO to DAVIS :)))

[specialgradefckr]

Heartline Gone Flat

Sequel to: Beat Your Heart to Death

tw: explicit content, extremely unhealthy relationships. gojo/geto, gojo/reader, geto/reader, stsg/reader. female!reader. pining. mind games. catfishing. non-consensual filming. extremely under-negotiated kinks. safe? maybe. sane? it's INsane. consensual? allegedly.

bondage. knife play. it gets fucking crazy. no one retains any degree of sanity by the end of this fic. every single character is deathly allergic to honest/healthy communication. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

You're not stupid. You notice the cameras.

It's not easy, mind you. Suguru - it had to be Suguru, Satoru didn't have this kind of calculated approach to anything - had hidden them reasonably well.

But the flash of a light, a glint where there shouldn't be one... suddenly you were finding cameras everywhere.

At first, you wondered. Why the hell would they bother spying on you? They already fucked in the living room. Groped each other right in front of your salad.

And then, this one time. Suguru had just finished eating their little hookup girlfriend out, his lips still wet and sticky while he lifted up his head.

He met your eyes. Dark and violet and... hungry. He didn't look away. All his pretty words, all the honeyed excuses that you know would pour from his lips, and he didn't look away.

No, your gaze was only broken by a head of white hair, Satoru pulling in to steal a kiss. Blue eyes glinting at you, so bright you have to look away.

He'd wanted you to see. They both had.

You know it, now. But why are they watching you?

And you think back.

Missing panties. Your vibrator dying on you constantly. Your lube running out. Your toothbrushes wearing out quickly.

Suguru does the laundry. He knows where everything is, like the clean freak malewife mother hen he is. Satoru keeps using your bathroom even though he and Suguru have their own.

So they're fucking with you. They're fucking in front of you. They're spying on you while you try to fuck yourself.

All that and they won't fuck you, won't even try.

Why? Why why WHY WHY! What do they want? What are they fucking doing?

Suguru won't tell you. He'll deny it's even happening. Satoru -

You don't like that shimmer. The way his eyes seem to stare right through you. His ethereal beauty.

The lurch in your chest every time he looks at you.

You'd had time to come to terms with your crush on Suguru. It had been a slow burn, a low simmer, a pull in the back of your mind that makes you nod your head and smile and sigh every time he asks you for something, every time he makes some excuse.

Suguru was comfortable. A well-loved, soft blanket you couldn't bear to wash, couldn't sleep without.

What you feel for Satoru makes you want to throw up. Shove him down, bite into his fucking neck and eat his heart straight out of his chest.

Every time you see him with Suguru it makes your fingers twitch. Your cunt clenches - do you want him inside you? Do you want Suguru inside you instead? Do you want his pretty mouth pressed up between your legs, pretty blue eyes gazing up at you, tearing up as he suffocates on your cunt?

Who the fuck knows. But you want, you know you want him. Like nothing you've ever wanted before in your life.

But you can't have him. You can't have anything, and, as far as you can tell, they're fucking taunting you with it.

So when you see the cameras... the next time you catch them fucking, Satoru moaning loudly, as if exaggerated, Suguru muttering dirty talk that could have come straight out of a porn script -

Well.

If they're filming you... and if they're so determined to be your personal porn stars...

Why not oblige them?

There's this man at the club that Suguru doesn't like.

They try not to bring men back too often. Women work better, make you more jealous. And he'll admit he doesn't like the thought of Satoru wanting a dick that's not his. He knows Satoru feels the same.

Though, with the way this pink-haired, tattooed man is looking at him, it looks like Satoru's whore instincts have gotten ahead of him.

"Who the fuck is that guy?" He whispers, bitingly, a hand over Satoru's hip. Mean, grasping.

Satoru laughs, but it's an uncertain sound. "Sukuna, I think. I remember him from tinder a couple years ago."

"Matched with him?"

"Guess so."

They don't have to wait long to see what the guy wants. How he glares at them both. Larger hands snatching Satoru's wrist, glaring down as Suguru when he tries to shove him back.

"Whore," Sukuna spits, glaring down at Satoru, "I paid you good money and you fucking blocked me?"

What?

"The fuck are you talking about?" Satoru snaps, as Suguru's mind races.

Is Satoru fucking around? But they spend every moment together. And he sounds genuine.

Sukuna isn't dissuaded. He snarls and sneers and acts like Satoru is playing dumb, until he finally pulls out his phone, revealing a series of DMs with someone called...

SatoSugu <3

What?? Who???

"You told me you weren't exclusive with your little boyfriend here," Sukuna growls, "Guess that was a fucking lie, too. Keep a leash on your slut, yeah, Daddy Suguru?"

And though Suguru does like to think of himself as having paternal energy - for a man like Sukuna, that's a bit on the nose.

Satoru recognizes some of the pictures on the DMs, though.

They're selfies (thirst traps, really) that he's sent... to you.

It only takes a little digging from there. SatoSugu <3 is an OnlyFans account - and a big one.

There's regular uploads. It's full of shots of the two of them, sometimes shorts, sometimes even videos a few minutes long.

The angles are a big scuffed but the audio is usually good. Some of them look like they might have been recorded from a phone -

And they're all set inside your shared home.

"Well, well, well," Satoru says, sounding much more composed than Suguru is feeling, "Looks like we got more of an audience than we were looking for, huh?"

At least most of these are showing his good side. Oh, he looks hot in that one...

He remembers that time, too, where Suguru was especially pent up...

Satoru scrolls through the feed with a smile on his face.

He pays the subscription fee, too - ooh, you were making good money off of this - and licks his lips at all the saucy content.

Really, he should be thanking you for the archive. But after using them to make money without their knowledge, surely you owed them at least one... collaboration.

Suguru does not feel the same.

It's not a surprise - Satoru has always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak.

For him, it was different. Satoru had his own ways of being territorial, but Suguru was possessive, in a dark, heady way Satoru loved to stoke.

You were allowed to see because you were theirs. You were a part of this relationship, whether you knew it or not. Even if you hadn't claimed their bodies yet, you had their hearts.

Random girls they brought home - those were unimportant. Quickly discarded. Tools to be used to make you jealous; they got only as much contact as was strictly necessary, and no more.

But this?

Showing them off - showing his Satoru, the one he'd so carefully reduced to tears and quivering. His strong, beautiful Satoru, full of energy and slutty dramatics, meant exclusively for your eyes and his?

And him; you've been pining for Suguru for years. Now you're letting strangers see him in his most intimate moments?

It's... diabolical. Exploitative. A master stroke of manipulation, taking advantage of their attempt to make you jealous, reducing it to a moneymaking scheme.

As much as he hates to agree with Satoru, it is kind of a turn on.

He can't quite call it a betrayal. You must have found the cameras they'd planted, set some of your own, knowing they might not notice the extras.

There's a special sort of rage billowing in his chest at the thought of everyone who got to see him and Satoru without his consent. But he's not so foolish as to think he didn't have this coming.

The question was, why did you do it? Are you angry? Are you trying to profit off them?

Knowing Satoru, he'd be pleased with either answer. But Suguru wants more.

Suguru wants anger. He wants your gut to sear with fury like his does, he wants you to be seething at the both of them. Apoplectic.

The time to prod you, taunt you, lead you into making a move is over. This is your answer - infuriating and enrapturing.

His mind twists and turns at Satoru's suggestion. Collaboration.

Turnabout is fair play, after all. And nothing quite turns him on like scheming and fucking.

Perhaps he and Satoru will have to make the first move. This battle is yours... but the war?

Oh, it's only just begun.

When you do meet their accusations, you do so head-on, shameless.

"Oh?" Your tone is tinged with mock innocence, "I didn't realize you had a problem with people watching you. Sorry about that."

There's not an inch of apology in your voice, of course.

In fairness, it wasn't even an unreasonable assumption. They'd fucked in plain view in your living room.

"That doesn't explain the man." Suguru says, unwilling to even say Sukuna's name.

But you know what you did. He knows you do.

You meet his eyes with a gaze you've never shown him before, heavy with the new arrival of old grudges. It hits him like a hunger pang.

"I thought you were looking for a third." You say. "You're always bringing people back home. I didn't think you were exclusive."

Suguru savors the bitterness in your voice. Why not me, you never asked me, it should have been me.

Delectable. Every last chocolate-coated note of longing burnt to a crisp.

"So you pretended to be Satoru?" The white-haired dog of a man slinks up to his side, arms crossed. As if he cared.

Their eyes lock onto the pink slip of your tongue licking between your lips.

"It looked like a perfect match. You've both got a preference," You drone, "Strong guys, tall guys. He's stronger and taller than either of you, and his dick is bigger, too."

That has them freezing up. Tense. Air thickening with it.

He can feel Satoru nearly vibrating next to him. Straining against an invisible leash.

"That doesn't mean you can just impersonate us."

You fix him with a look the tired fingers of his thoughts are not able to unwind. Suguru could spend hours looking at you, picking apart every single inch of your expression.

He'd love every second of it.

"So?" You ask, challenge in your tone.

He smiles, eyes half-lidded as he closes in. "So, we both agreed... if we're going to be on the page, it's only fair if you go on there with us."

You take a step back, but it's not far enough. Satoru's lean, muscled form presses into you from the side.

"Yeah, babe," Satoru sings, "Isn't it time for you to upload? Come on, we can't disappoint the masses."

Boxed in, walled off. Suguru crowds you with the heat of his body, broad shoulders.

Ah, there it is. The nervous flick of your eyes, the tightening of your expression. Readying yourself for the crash.

Like white water breaking against the rocks. You've always been so malleable to him, so predictable in your moods, and yet somehow vaster and greater than he could ever command.

He thinks your lips on his, your waist encircled in his arms, is a fine start to mastery.

Of course, Satoru can never let him have anything - arms tug at his shoulders, a chest closing in from the side.

He moves to sandwich you between them, letting Satoru slot himself behind you. He knows it already, in the cracked blue intensity of Satoru's gaze, Suguru knows he's hard, desperate to grind himself against you.

"Oh, but you're not into me, are you?" You brandish the words like a dagger, "And we've been friends for so long, Suguru. We're all roommates, too. I wouldn't want to make things weird between us."

The pointed barb makes him laugh in spite of himself.

You still won't say it. Won't say you want them. You don't push them away, don't do anything to stop this -

You want him to say it first. And if Suguru isn't careful, Satoru might just sell them out to get his dick wet.

So he smirks, letting one hand trail down and underneath your waistband. Grasping your face by the chin and tilting it to look towards a planted camera. Satoru takes the chance to kiss your cheek.

"Oh, we play with girls all the time, Satoru and I, and you didn't mind recording," he purrs into your ear, knowing this isn't what you want to hear. "Don't you think you owe this to us? After putting us up without our permission, you should at least put yourself out there too, no?"

"Yeah," Satoru says, like the obedient, horny lackey he is, "What he said."

How eloquent.

"Since you both agreed on this," You say beneath lowered lashes - but this close, Suguru can feel how your cheeks have warmed, "You must have an idea of what you want to do with me."

Anything. Everything. He wants to toss you down, eat you up, watch Satoru fuck you from a million angles while he directs, fuck Satoru while he fucks you and vice versa -

But he can't let you goad him into saying it. Even under pressure like this, you're trembling, but not as trapped prey. You're burning from the inside out, fighting the urge to grab and hold and have them.

"Oh, I know we do. Satoru," He purrs, "Come here and help our dear roommate put on a real show, would you?"

Satoru groans as he thrusts into you. Hand on hip. Clingy, needy.

"Did you like it," he pants in your ear, like he's the one getting fucked, "Did you like showing us off? Showing me off?"

Egging himself on. A match that lights itself and burns up too close to your fingertips.

He has you on his lap, too close and yet not close enough. Facing forward, towards the camera in Suguru's hands (is it even turned on? you can't tell, can't look away from the hunger in those violet eyes).

Satoru's other hand winds around your ribcage, clasping one of your breasts, squeezing and groping freely.

"Showing that prick my - hngh, my selfies just for you?" He whispers, "Did you have fun pretending to be me? Teasing him, then blocking him? Did you think to yourself, you'll never have him anyways, you can never have my Satoru?"

A laugh comes out from his mouth, thundering through you, his muscled chest pressed to your back.

You want to see him. Pretty, beautiful Satoru - he's finally fucking you, and you can't look him in the eyes.

Suguru does. Suguru's eyes flick towards him, meeting his gaze. Just over your shoulder.

After all those years lusting for him, you finally have him and you can't even have him.

And it's glorious. It feels amazing, like nothing you've felt in your entire life.

He's good, so good at this, pressing into you just hard enough, just enough friction, the hand on your hip darting over to rub over your clit while he whispers his dirty talk in your ear.

"Did you like leading him on only to dump him? Wanna keep me all to yourself?" His voice is hot, breathy, dripping with thrilled arousal.

"Answer him." Suguru says, and he sounds so faraway, even though he's right there.

Watching. Filming. Directing, even.

Satoru's only fucking you because he told him to. The circles over your clit send you clenching, quivering, and Satoru whispers for you to answer, come on, did you like it? Do you like them?

"Of course," You choke on the words, "It was fun messing with Sukuna. But I felt bad for him, you know? Catfishing is one thing, but it would be cruel to inflict the real you on him."

There's a laugh from Suguru, even as Satoru's fingers dig into you. He leans over your shoulder just enough to stare at you from the corner of your eyes. Grinning.

You meet Satoru's crystal-blue gaze, lips curling into a shaky smirk.

"You're such a whore," You drawl to his face, gasping as he thrusts harder (his cock throbs at the word whore, this goddamn slut), "You vain fucking bitch, you love flirting, showing off your body, but I know when you and Suguru fuck, you make him do all the work."

Reaching around with one hand, grasping the toned tightness of his ass, you squeeze - even as a swipe of his fingers over your clit takes your breath away.

"Yeah? Then what am I doing now, babe?" Those eyes glitter at you. Satoru's locked on you, not looking away for an instant.

He's so fucking beautiful, all smirking and shining and heavenly flesh against your own.

And you feel Suguru's gaze like a leaden weight. Lick your lips.

(He's not yours. You can't have him.)

"Suffering, probably," You dig your nails into his ass and he hisses, cock twitching inside you, "Poor little pillow princess Gojo having to put in some effort for once."

Satoru's smile bares teeth at your use of his surname.

(Don't, Suguru mouths in warning, while your attention is fixed on him.)

"Ha!" It's a dry laugh, biting, feral, the words he wants to say stuck in his throat, "Fuck you!"

"You are," Suguru drawls, "Poorly."

"And fuck you, too, bitch, your hole is next," Satoru pants, thrusting hard and fast.

(He wants wants want wants WANTS. But Suguru wants, too. And he has you now, doesn't he?)

You keen as he drives into you, quick movements, fast circles over your clit that match the friction in your cunt. Closer, closer.

Something in his face spurs you on. Heart racing the words out of your mouth, "You gonna cry when you cum, baby?"

Taunting, snide, the words don't match the way your chest lurches as he hits a spot inside you, and heat spurts in your lower half.

It's agonizing and ecstatic; the hand not coaxing your clit into bursts of heady pleasure grasps your breast, clutching you back against him.

There's a noise from across the room, a shift or something, but it feels so loud to your ears. Like Suguru refuses to be ignored. Even in this one perfect moment of your fantasies come through -

Or maybe you just like him too much to forget he's here. To keep yourself from glancing over at him.

But Satoru isn't looking at Suguru. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, leaning his face into your neck as he groans, languid thrusts of his release jerking against your hips.

You feel wetness against your neck, hot, slick. Licking at you.

"No, but maybe you will," He purrs, sucking marks into your skin.

Hands roaming. Legs hooking over yours, limbs wrapped around you, refusing to let go.

You blink, hard, and no tears come out. Must be dehydration.

Suguru's eyes are burning holes in you. Even Satoru stiffens behind you. (His cock stiffens, too - is he really that much of a whore, or has Suguru trained him or something?)

"Ah-ah-ahhh," Suguru tuts, but it's a cold sound.

His eyes are sharp, pointed, "That can't be all. This is for the audience, after all. You should put on a good show."

It's almost malevolent, how he relished in your expression when reminding you of the shared pretense.

You meet his eyes with your own burning gaze.

"This is all for content, right?" The words are full of malice, of challenge.

You match him, smile for hateful smile.

"We should do things you two haven't done before."

Suguru had to hand it to you.

He didn't expect Satoru to be the first person to peg him.

Oh, technically, perhaps it could be considered from you. After all, it had been inside you, first.

"I seem to have run out of lube," You'd explained coyly, "You don't mind, though, right? Here, I'll donate some of my own."

So Suguru had sat and filmed while Satoru fucked the dildo into you. Rubbing it over your cunt even though you swatted at him, rushing him to put it in and lube it up.

Your hands on Satoru's dick in return, grasping tight and unforgiving. Like he wasn't already hard enough. Jerking him until he spurted all over your palm.

You rubbed that on the dildo, too, once he'd pulled it out of you. You couldn't stop a tight hiss at that.

Suguru keeps the vision of it in his mind's eye as Satoru fingers him open. Hands still wet with his cum and yours.

(It keeps him hard. That little gasp you made, breathy, a touch overstimulated, so soon after your last release.

What a large refractory window. He wants to break it open.)

The dildo is hot pink, bulging. Suguru had mocked it when they'd found it in your cabinet. Satoru thought it was cute.

By the smirk on his face, his opinion hasn't changed.

"Get on with it," Suguru grunts, shifting his legs to give him better access. Glancing at you, camera in hand. Eyes locked.

"Yeah, yeah," Satoru says, blithe as ever. Rubbing the dildo's bulbous, silicone head against his hole, "Coming right up, cockslut."

He can't help a scoff. "You're one to talk."

He's still half-worried Satoru will confess his undying love to you just to get his dick wet. Give up the game before it's really started.

"Wonder what the title for this should be?" You muse, "Slutty twink ruins goth's hole, no lube? You guys sell so well."

Suguru almost chokes out a laugh at that. You and Satoru, cut from the same cloth. He'd seen it earlier.

A pair of whores talking each other through it.

(It's never failed to make his blood burn.)

"I think we're owed a little more participation from you," Suguru licks his lips, "Come over here."

A trickle of desire he lets through. Just a droplet, really.

He watches your eyes dilate at the sight.

(Oh, you want him. You want him you want him you want him you want him and it's the most potent aphrodisiac he's ever known.)

The camera is abandoned on the table. Maybe he was in frame, maybe he wasn't.

What's far more important is you, between his legs, as Satoru sits him back on his lap. Up on his thighs, giving him space to slowly drive the dildo in.

And even though Satoru's face must be just behind him, a grin he can hear - Suguru knows you're staring at him. Trapped in his gaze.

Your hands crawl up his thighs. Shaking as Satoru stretches him. Working up to the cock that's now tall and pulsing against his lower abdomen.

The hunger in your eyes makes him tense. He's leaky already, not from how expertly Satoru is nudging his prostate, but from how you look at him like a dog staring at a steak after it's been told no.

Your eyes glancing between him and his cock.

Something flutters in his stomach. Burns in his gut. Soars in his chest.

This is love, isn't it? It must be love, this high he sees looking at your face pressed against his dick like you can't quite believe you're there.

(Finally finally finally fuck - )

He chokes, arching his back and moaning. Wincing his eyes shut to hide how they water.

Satoru's hand grasps at his hips, the other one shoving in - tight, tight, fuck, it burns -

And then it's soft, and wet, and perfect, your lovely mouth opening up around his dick.

Tongue gliding over it like you can lick away years of longing. Savor the fruit of your yearning. Devour him entirely.

He feels like he's melting. Red-hot bursts of pleasure as Satoru pumps into him and you - your eyes - fuck fuck fuck your mouth, warm and melting around his cock until he can't tell where he ends and you begin.

His hand reaches your face before he knows it. Cupping your cheek.

What face is he making right now? He can't think about it, can't think about anything but him inside your mouth and your face in his hand.

You lean into it, eyes half-fluttering, blissful, sucking and drooling around him.

That's what gets him. His cock pulses, and throbs, and he doesn't have a moment to warn you, but you swallow around him anyways. Suckling as you pull away, glancing up at his face.

A drop of his cum gets on your mouth. Thoughtlessly, his thumb swipes it away, but it lingers on your lower lip. His eyes linger, too.

Something twists in his chest.

He doesn't know what does it. If it's that moment of vulnerability, all the soft, tender parts exposed that he has to lash out to protect. Or if being able to finally touch you has unfettered something cruel and wild inside him.

Or maybe it's just the sick, twisted desire to win. To watch you cave in on yourself from the hunger, starved until you become just as willing to draw blood as he is.

But Suguru knows he says it with an awful, mean smile.

"You can add on Slut used for both holes to that, too," He snarks, his hand moving back to cup your cheek.

Soft, so soft. Face crumpling at his touch. Fighting not to show it.

"You sure seemed to enjoy it," You say. Heart on sleeve.

He wants to rip it apart. Ribcage open, heart bare and beating.

"Satoru's better, of course," He strokes your cheek in mock affection, "But it'd be unfair to compare you to him. He's special."

Thumb over the twitch in your cheek.

(Won't you bare your fangs? Won't you bite? Tear in?

If you won't, then he will.)

"I've never had anyone like Satoru. He always knows just what to do... maybe he's a born slut," Suguru chuckles, low, feeling your cheeks heat against his fingertips, "Or maybe he just knows me that well. Loves me that much."

He can feel it, he thinks. Your poor trembling heart, your face growing hard like armor.

What are you thinking now? I love you, too? I'd love you even more? I've loved you longer, forever, how can you not see -

"Sure he loves you," You bite out, "He loves your dick."

You're hungry, so hungry. Starved of his affection. And he's dangling it in front of you now -

So why won't you bite?

Satoru's not entirely sure how it got to this point.

Suguru, tied to a chair, arms strapped down. The vibrator - the one he'd sabotaged so many times - strapped to his dick, all swollen and purple and dribbling pitifully in overstimulation.

HIs eyes are red-rimmed, bloodshot. Sweat in a sheen over his broad shoulders. Lips in a thin line as he struggles not to make a sound.

He's so handsome, even like this. Maybe more like this, Satoru thinks, and then buries the thought deep as if to hide it from Suguru's ravenous gaze.

(He thinks he knows anyways. Suguru always knows, knows everything. Satoru could see things but Suguru understood them.)

It started somewhere with the bindings, he thinks.

A tone of measured challenge in your voice that Suguru couldn't resist.

Suguru thinks he's some kind of director. But you'd baited him with raised stakes, and then offered him an out.

"It's okay if you don't want to. I know you and Satoru aren't there yet in your relationship. If you don't want to do it with me, just say so."

It's not a bluff Suguru could easily call.

Telling you he doesn't want you, they don't want you, would be an outright lie, a hole he doesn't dare dig for himself.

"Do it. Tell me you don't want me. Tell me that and we can stop here."

You offer him your beating heart on a platter, well-disguised. Tone even as you give him the knife and hold if over your chest.

He couldn't call you out. So he had to raise.

Hands behind his back, at first. Then he's tied to a chair.

Satoru makes good use of it. So do you. Hands and mouth and tongue and teeth, everywhere.

Your lips are so soft and yet they sting his skin, dripping venom with every word.

Raise, raise, always raise. As high as you'll take the stakes. He'll never back down.

A vibrator, remote controlled. Satoru getting the chance to hold the camera.

Suguru just barely catches him half-filming while he palms his cock to you grinding against his dick in his lap.

"Do you like it, Suguru~?"

He doesn't know who asked him.

But he knows you're not fucking him yet, you haven't said it yet (that you want him, need him, love him can't live without him say it say it SAY IT ALREADY).

And he can't lose, he can't lose, not to you, not you.

That's when he called for the whip. It's a fine thing, a short flexible band of leather.

And then Satoru had licked his lips, itchy fingers, pulling his shirt over his head, and Suguru realized that if he went ungagged he would ruin everything.

So that was how the gag got into Satoru's mouth. He's drooling on it now.

And the sight of you muzzling Satoru had been enough.

Suguru felt ravenous, vile. He saw an opening and went in, fangs bared.

"Want to make him cry for you??" He taunts, "He's a pretty crier, even prettier when he cums. Maybe you can do with that whip what you couldn't do with your cunt, hm?"

"Shut up or I'm gagging you, too. Turn around, Satoru."

And Satoru bared the pale, flawless expanse of his back to be whipped, had to have his hands smacked away form his cock while Suguru cooed about how pretty he was.

How you asked if he liked it that much. If he was a slut for everyone, or just for the pain. If he'd take anything you would give him -

He's chomping at the bit. Ball gag. His mouth isn't full enough. He wants to taste you.

Satoru's back is burning by the time you shove him onto the floor.

"Unbind me," Suguru had ground out, "I'm so hard - fuck, I want to take him now."

"Too fucking bad. I'm busy -"

"You looks so good all red and whipped, baby." Suguru interrupts, ignoring you completely, "Like you were born for it. Look at me. Look at me."

And Satoru did, making eye contact over his shoulder, past you -

Yeah, Satoru thinks. That's how he got here.

On his still-stinging back beneath you, shirt off, watching you straddle him in all your furious glory.

Knife in your hand. His chest bared as you seethe.

He tries not to pant so hard - it's tough, you're rubbing right up against his dick and this is about the hardest he's been in his life.

"You really are a fucking slut," You say, words dripping over him with your hateful gaze, burning like acid.

Every inch of his is aflame. It's agonizing, it's euphoric - it's like your anger is a part of him. Surging in his veins.

Blade pressed to his skin. Sharp. Beautiful.

You are beauty incarnate, in his eyes. Satoru knows he's never seen anything as beautiful as you are right now.

"Worthless fucking whore, doing whatever you're told," You spit, "Letting your body get carved up for porn. Is this all you're good for, Gojo?"

He blinks, eyes wet. Don't call him that. You can't call him that! Not now!

Satoru knows it. By the touch of your knife on his skin and the touch of your eyes on the knife. Your entire world is narrowed down to this moment where he's letting you do anything to him.

He's so good for you, so still. Looking up at you with his big, beautiful sparking eyes.

All lean muscle and power and strength just lying under you and taking it.

Sure you call him a whore, you must be jealous over Suguru, but he knows you can tell. Just by how he looks at you.

Laying beneath you all docile, stronger than you and delighted to take a knife to the chest from your hands. This is love, you must know love when you see it.

And he feels it, moving, lines drawing over his chest.

Your name. Your NAME.

He feels it, in his chest, literally every stroke of the knife splitting through his skin.

Satoru's eyes tear up, pain and pleasure white-hot and pulsing towards his dick. It's throbbing, desperate.

All he can do is whimper, whine. This is why he was gagged, because even through it, he's chanting.

Fuck, fuck. You're carving your name onto him. Onto his chest, onto his heart.

He fucking feels it, he feels you leaving this mark on him, this mark that can only mean you, he's yours, he's all yours and he always will be.

Looking up at you. Your eyes, feverish, frenzied. Full of him.

Hands bloodied as you guide the knife.

Oh, he tries not to pant. He wouldn't want to mess up your work. He tries not to buck up into you, but it's a lost cause, like his cock has a mind of its own. Like it knows where its home is now.

Skin splitting, blood pooling over his chest. Over his heart.

He feels it leaping out to you. Like it'll flutter right out of his chest.

You want it. You want it so fucking bad, he can see it in your eyes.

His arms itch to take the knife from you. Satoru cries into the gag, fruitlessly, because don't you understand?

Can't you see? He'll cut it out and give it to you, it's all yours!

You can have it!

The words pour out of his eyes, like he can tell you, like you'll understand if only he looks at you long enough.

You have to understand. Of course you do. You're his whole world right now, and he's yours, he can feel it.

Satoru knows it like he knows that satisfaction in your eyes.

You lick the blade clean. It has his dick drooling.

yours. yours yours i'm yours, i've been yours, baby, look at me. you see it. you see how good it feels for me, being yours?

i love it. love you.

Feels like his heart is leaking out of his mouth. Every word he can't say. Useless, dribbling, skin-warm and wasted.

Tears streaking down his face. And he meets your eyes and you can see, he's sure, you can see it -

"Satoru," you choke out, cracking like his name has carved your throat like you've carved his chest. Shifting against him.

Oh, fuck.

Heat bursts in his lower half. Yeah... yeah, he just came from that.

Sucking in air desperately though his nose. Blinking away tears in his eyes. His face is a sticky, wet mess. Abs coated in his own cum.

Ruined beneath you. And you look enraptured.

Fuck. Fucking hell. It's the greatest moment of his life.

He spares a flick of his gaze to Suguru, poor Suguru, all alone on the corner watching.

And it's so easy just to tell him with his eyes. They know each other that well.

This could be you down here. This could be her under you, for all you know she'd let you. You're so fucking determined not to say you want it that you handed this to me.

Some things about Suguru, he really doesn't get.

Oh, well. Finders keepers.

Her name is on my chest forever, now. No matter what she does with you, she'll always have done this with me, first.

You have it. You have what you wanted, now. Finally.

Satoru is underneath you. Suguru is in the corner, fucking watching. Like he's been making you watch your crushes fuck for months on end.

Your handwriting has never been as beautiful as it is on Satoru's pale, perfect skin.

Now it's split by the letters of your name. You don't even feel bad.

He wanted it. Leaned into every inch of the cut.

Those beautiful blue eyes. Looking at you, you, you.

His gorgeous chest red with your name and he's completely transfixed, Finally it's just you, his attention is all on you -

The flick to the corner and you know instantly. Suguru.

It's always him. You can't even have Satoru to yourself for five minutes, and you can't even blame him for it.

Not when you want Suguru, too.

(but you can't have him. you can't have anything you want, not really, can you?)

Your hands are shaking. You don't even notice it. Adrenaline pours through you. Flight or fight.

You look at Satoru's chest. It's really only barely bloodied.

The knife is warm in your hand. It was so easy.

Cut him deeper. Cut him open.

You want to cut his fucking heart out and take it in your hands. Rip up that pretty face. Put out those beautiful gemstone eyes for straying.

Ruin everything you love about him. No one will want him then. Suguru won't want him.

(can you have him then?)

The edge of the knife is against his throat and you're ready to just slide it across his neck -

and -

and -

Satoru is looking up at you again.

(cut him. cut his throat. kill him now. fucking whore, how could he -)

Wide blue eyes sparkling with untamed affection. Lovesick. Adoring.

(it's not for you. this isn't yours and never will be.)

His mouth is gagged but his face just lights up when he sees you, all bright and eager and -

(you love him. you love him so fucking much.)

Suguru calls your name and your heart is burning again -

(you love him. it hurts.)

The knife falls, unbloodied, from your hands.

You get up.

You walk away.

[lonely-ey3s]

Heartlines | Chapter One

pairing: harry castillo (materialists) x f!reader

chapter summary : Are you hard to love, or have you not found the right person? After you meet Harry Castillo at your sister's wedding, he shows you what it means to be in love. He shows you how to be loved.

chapter warnings: fluff, slow burn, angst, Harry speaks Spanish (translations will be there), reader has a somewhat emotionally abusive mother, unwanted touching, drinking, vomiting, switched POV's.

word count: 10k

a/n: alright here it is! chapters will be every other sunday as ride or die will be launched next weekend !! this also somewhat requested by @iheartoldermem so thank them !!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

Masterlist

'It’s better this way’ is something you’d constantly tell yourself. A little lonelier but better. It wasn't ideal, but it was safer for your heart this way.

Just like it wasn't ideal that you were sitting at your little sister’s bachelorette party with a mocktail in your hand, sober.

You sat there while everyone else in the bridal party was on the dance floor, with some random man that wasn’t their boyfriend or husband grinding up on them.

You didn't mind sitting back and watching other people have fun, perhaps make stupid decisions. But doing it sober?

However, you had one job tonight as the maid of honor: get her to the wedding tomorrow morning and get her down the aisle without stupid, drunken decisions being made.

This meant attending this party and sticking it out in this god awful strip club.

So you watched your sister like a hawk. You sat there sipping on your drink, keeping your head clear and your eyes open. Watching her dance with some fuck boy from out of town grab her ass and grind up against her.

You watched them dance together for a few songs, letting her enjoy her drunken bad decision at the rate it was going.  

You heard her hiccup and then saw her shake her head as a ‘No thank you’ slurred out of her mouth. You also watched him persist on taking her back to his place, his hand on her hip, smirking at her as he tried pulling her off the dance floor. 

You stepped down from your barstool and came over, putting yourself between the two of them. “Alright, I think it’s time to move on to greener, more available pastures, buddy… the one isn't available... and has said 'no'..." You gently pushed him away from her, your lips in a tight smile. 

He chuckled, his eyes clocking your body up and down, checking you out, biting his bottom lip, “Well well, I think I see a greener ass… I mean greener grass right in front of me!” he smirked, “Name’s Spencer, what’s yours?” he crowded your space, taking your hand in his. 

You grinned and chuckled, taking your hand back quickly, then tsked. “You are so barking up the wrong tree, Spencer…” You chuckled and shook your head in disbelief- the audacity of men never ceased to amaze you. “Keep it movin’, bud!"

You turned towards your sister, effectively cutting off engaging further with him. 

He sighed and turned around as well, walking away to another bridesmaid who was dancing across the dance floor.

She had a face of utter fear as reality set in. “Oh god, I think I’m gonna be sick…” she said before putting her hand over her mouth and gagging. 

You shook your head again at her reaction and chuckled, “Alright, I think that’s our cue to wrap this party up for you, little miss thing…” You wrapped her arm around yours and walked with her to the bathroom. 

She did her best in the incredibly ridiculous high heels to walk with you, but most of the travel was you dragging her along. 

Once in the bathroom, she ran into the stall before collapsing to her knees and coughing as she vomited into the toilet. 

You weren’t too far behind her, quickly gathering her hair up and holding it up behind her. You took a deep breath and sighed deeply. “There ya go… let it out,” you encouraged, leaning down to rub her back. 

She coughed and took a few deep breaths before she vomited again, groaning. 

After a few moments, you leaned over and grabbed her some toilet paper. “Here, wipe your mouth hun…” you said softly. 

She looked up and smiled lazily, “You’re such a good sister…” she hiccupped, taking the bunch of toilet paper from you and wiping her mouth. “You’re going to make such a good wife one day too…” she giggled, her eyes fluttering closed. 

You chuckled, “You’re so drunk and delusional…” you tsked. 

“How so?” she asked, then almost immediately bent over as she coughed again, vomiting more into the toilet. 

“You’re good… keep it comin’... get it all out.” you encouraged gently, ignoring her question. 

After getting it all out, she leaned back and laid her head against the stall wall, closing her eyes. “Just because Robbie and Damon didn’t work out doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there for you…” she said before opening her eyes and looking up at you. 

Ever since she got engaged, she had been determined to find you someone as well. She wanted you just as happy as she was with her fiance, Ben. 

The number of blind dates or double dates you had been on in the last six months just to keep her happy was astounding.

However, none of them wanted to settle down, be in a committed relationship. All they wanted was a ‘casual’ relationship. To them you weren’t good enough for commitment as you knew most of them were now exclusively dating someone else.

You didn’t fit their boxes, weren't good enough to be the ‘forever’ in their life. Hell, 13 dates later, you began to think, it must be you. 

Something must be wrong with you.

You must have some immediate invisible sign on your head that says something like ‘Step on up and break my heart’ or ‘Fuck me over’. 

The last date you went on a few weeks ago was the straw that broke your camel's back. 

Lila set you up with one of Ben’s coworkers. Some narcissist who thought just because he had a yearly salary of over $2 million that money would earn his way into your pants.

When you thanked him for a good night but didn't invite him in, the things he said to you in anger and obvious sexual frustration– created the first brick of your now indestructible wall. 

So that was it. 

You swore it all off. It wasn’t going to happen again if you could help it. 

‘You can’t get hurt if you don’t open your heart.’ 

You leaned against the wall and folded your arms. “Lila, it's so much more than that, and you know it…” You bit the inner part of your cheek, “Just… you tried, and I appreciate that…” you said softly before your voice changed, sounding a bit firmer, “...but let what’s dead, fuckin’ rest in peace.” you shook your head looking down at your shoes, letting out a breath of something. Anger? Sadness? Frustration? Maybe all of the above. 

She sighed softly, defeated. “Fine… I’ll leave it.” 

After a few moments of silence, she cleared her throat. “What time is it?” 

You pulled your phone out of your purse. “It’s just past 2 am…" you tsked "We should get you home. We’ve got an early morning…” You put your phone away and held out your hand. “We need to be at the venue by 9 am…” 

She smiled and reached up for your hand. “What would I do without you?” 

You pulled her up to her feet and chuckled, the tension breaking between the two of you. “I don’t want to know the answer to that question…” You teased. 

She chuckled and held onto your arm as the two of you headed back to her place to spend the night. 

You had her up and at the venue just before 9 am, sitting in the glam chair with a glass of ginger ale and another with an Alka-seltzer on standby as she was feeling slightly hungover.

After glam, hair, and getting into your dress, you came over to her.

She was still getting her hair done. “Is there anything last minute I need to get you?” you asked, putting a bracelet on your wrist, smiling at how beautiful she looked. 

She smiled and looked around, making mental notes of what she needed. “Oh! I need my bouquet and grandma’s bracelet! Dad said he had it with him…” She looked back at you.

You nodded. “I’ll go find the florist and Dad…” You smiled. “Hang tight…” You maneuvered your way through the room and made your way downstairs to the ceremony room to where you’d first look for the florist.

You looked around for anyone with flowers and saw all of the groomsmen. They were all in a small circle, putting their boutonnieres on each other's lapels. 

You snapped and then clapped excitedly, “Bingo!”

You put on a smile and walked over, “Hey guys, sorry but, quick question… where did you all get those?” you pointed to one of their chests, eyes bright with hope.

Austin, Ben’s old college roommate, turned and smiled at you. “Uh, I’m not sure. Harry brought them over. You could ask him…” he said daftly. 

You bit your tongue, holding in what you wanted to say, so you held your hands out in front of you to accentuate the sarcasm about to come out of your mouth, “Great, great… now who’s Harry?” you tilted your head, chuckling lightly, mildly frustrated as time was ticking. 

“I’m Harry. Who’s askin’?” you heard a voice behind you, one with a soft timber but a strong and commanding tone. 

You turned around, and the most beautiful man stood in front of you. He was broad, yet appeared welcoming and soft. His hair was tidy yet somewhat rugged as he was pushed back fashionably. He looked expensive but not too snobby in his black and white suit. 

He was smiling at you with the biggest brown eyes you’d ever seen.

You nodded slowly, whispering back, “Harry…” then smiled and lightly chuckled as you snapped out of your daze, “Um… flowers! Where did you get those boutonnieres?” You gestured to the one on his lapel. 

He looked to where you were gesturing then looked back up at you as he used his thumb to rub his bottom lip, his eyes drinking you in for a moment subtly, “The florist, she came to us…” he held out his hand to you, offering to shake yours, “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met, you are?” he smiled warmly. 

You saw someone with a bunch of flowers walk behind him and gasped, “You!” You shouted, waving your finger at them. 

“Mrs. Flower… person!” you went to walk away but turned to Harry and smiled gesturing to yourself, “Sorry, um I'm... uhm the maid of honor, and one on a time crunch… nice to meet you Harry.” you did a small wave then picked up the front of your dress and turned towards the person carrying flowers, “Excuse me, florist person!” you chased after them. 

Harry chuckled as he watched you chase after that person, turning back around to talk with the group of men.

You finally caught up with the person carrying the flowers, who connected you with the main florist– who, ironically, was already heading up to give the bridal group their flowers. 

You took yours and made sure your sister was good before heading back down to then find your dad and get your grandma’s bracelet before rushing back upstairs and putting it on your sister’s wrist as the ceremony was moments away from starting. 

“You look beautiful Lila…” you said touching her cheek, “I’m so happy for you and Ben…” you teared up and looked over her features, “Ah, you two are going to be so happy…” you let out a chuckle which made a tear fall down your cheek. 

She put her hand on your cheek as well and smiled, “I know one day, whether you want to believe it or not, you’ll have this too.” 

She teared up when you shook your head, smiling sadly before she whispered, “Everyone deserves a ‘Ben’...” She softly chuckled, a few tears falling down her cheeks. 

You quickly took a tissue and dabbed the tears up. “Hey, no tears, you’ll ruin your makeup…” you softly laughed. “You can’t cry until the altar when you do your vows!” you teased. 

She softly laughed and nodded, letting you fix her makeup. “I love you, sis… thank you for always being here for me.” 

You nodded and smiled, “Always.” You held her hands and took a step back, looking over her, “Now, let’s go make you a Mrs. Reynolds!” you grinned. 

Just as you said that, the wedding planner came in, headset and clipboard in hand, eyes filled with purpose.

“Ok! It’s time, everyone… places!” She smiled and clapped excitedly, “Bridesmaids and maid of honor, you’ll follow me down to line up. Lila, your dad is waiting out here for you…” She smiled and then walked out. 

You looked at her, and she took a deep breath, her hands becoming clammy all of a sudden. 

“Hey, I’ll see you when you get to the end of the aisle, yeah?” You smiled softly, attempting to snap her out of her thoughts. 

She nodded and then smiled, “Yeah, I’m good. Go!” she giggled. 

You grabbed your small bouquet and then quickly walked out of the room to catch up with the group. 

You all got downstairs to gather behind the big doors that would open when the music started.

All 10 of you were being shoved together by the wedding coordinator and her assistant in a double file line. Men on the right, women on the left. 

The group dwindled down, and then you were taken by the arm by the assistant, murmuring to herself, “Lastly, the maid of honor with the best man… perfect!” she said out loud as she stood you next to a familiar face. 

Harry offered his arm and smiled down at you. “I’m sorry, your name is 'maid of honor', isn't it?” he teased. 

You chuckled and slid your hand under his arm, holding onto his bicep and placing the flowers where they were supposed to be held, “Yes, but that's my alter ego - my real name is Y/N… you know, kinda like Batman…” You joked.  

He chuckled, “If I get to walk down the aisle with Batman– that’s the ultimate win in my book.” he wiggled his arm that you were holding onto softly.

You smiled and looked down, making sure you looked good before you looked up at him, and bounced back, “Well, glad I can provide you with the experience of being with Gotham’s mightiest hero…” you looked toward the doors opening and the music starting to play.

He liked how witty you were, how you genuinely made him laugh and smile.

You whispered, leaning in slightly, “Although, I am sorry to disappoint… not to give you the full experience. The suit is in dry cleaning…” you joked. 

Harry snorted out another chuckle. The wedding planner’s eyes darted towards the two of you as she stood beside the door's entrance, counting when to send the next pair down the aisle. 

Both of you saw her gaze, but instead of it making you quiet, it made you giggle, which only made him chuckle a little louder. 

She put a finger to her lips to signal for you to be quiet. Her eyes filled with frustration- the two of you being childish in her book. 

You softly cleared your throat and stopped, nodding at her apologetically. Harry smiled at her and gave her the zipping his lips motion and then motioned throwing away the key behind his back, making her only narrow her eyes more at him. 

He softly chuckled and nodded at her, mouthing ‘Sorry…’. 

The group moved up a pace as one of the couples started walking down the aisle. After another couple of counts, another group went, which triggered everyone to move up. 

Harry leaned in, keeping his eyes forward, and whispered, “For the record, I like this ‘suit’ a lot better… this color brings out your eyes.” he put his hand over yours on his bicep for a moment before taking it away and keeping it at his side as you both stepped forward again.

You couldn’t help but blush at his touch. Something so small, a simple touch, was making your heart smack against your chest and a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. 

You kept your eyes forward, leaning into him, challenging, “You can’t say that; you haven’t seen me in the actual suit yet…” you whispered back, taking another step forward. 

He bit the inside of his cheek and smirked, then went to say something back when the wedding planner cleared her throat and whispered to you both, “Big smiles and walk in 5…4…3…2… go…” She gently nudged Harry forward by pushing the back of his shoulder.

You both took a step forward and began walking down the aisle at a steady pace, smiling toward the crowd as they were all watching you. 

Halfway down the aisle, he leaned over and whispered, looking down at you, “Tell me then, how does the bride know Batman?” he turned his head back to smile at the crowd, the same as you were doing. 

You smiled as you walked, whispering back, “Well… in this multiverse, Batman’s parents didn’t get brutally murdered– she also has a little sister.” You nodded over to your mom and grandparents sitting in the front row. He looked over and nodded at them, then connecting the dots- he knew exactly who you were now. 

He looked down at you and smiled warmly. “Ah, I knew I recognized you…” 

You looked up at him. “Sorry?” you raised your eyebrow, confused.  

The end of the aisle came, and he smirked a little, leaving you both on the perfect cliffhanger, “I guess this is the end of the line for us… guess we’ll have to catch up later then?” he winked before the two of you split, going your separate ways.

He stood next to Ben, putting his hands in front of himself, and smiled out towards the crowd. 

You walked to where you needed to be and peeked over at him, wondering how the hell he knew who you were.

Your thoughts were paused when you looked down the aisle as the music switched to signal your sister’s arrival, your focus automatically on her. 

What you didn’t see was that Harry’s eyes weren’t watching down the aisle for Lila– they were on you. 

The ceremony was beautiful. Your sister looked breathtaking– it was everything she wanted. 

Ben’s vows to her were heartfelt and made almost everyone tear up or cry, including yourself. 

At one point, you caught Harry looking over at you, his eyes warm, full of adoration and sincerity. You suddenly became shy and quickly looked down at the bouquet you were holding, noticing your cheeks feeling warm, your heart pounding quickly again. 

Fuck. How the hell was he getting under your skin like this? You were so against getting involved with anyone.

However, the way he would look at you, how he was so easily making you feel this bashful and shy- it was just frustrating. 

'It's those damn brown eyes' you thought to yourself. You were a sucker for men with big puppy dog eyes- which he had and you knew was an expert in using.

You would avoid him the rest of the evening. Nothing can happen if you just avoid him, right? 

However, after the happy couple were pronounced husband and wife and started to walk down the aisle, you realized that the instructions were to regroup with your aisle partner and walk back down, following behind the happy couple. 

Well shit. So much for avoiding him.

'Ok one more walk down then we will stay away from Mr. Brown Eyes' you told yourself as you saw Harry look over at you.

Once your sister and Ben started to walk down, he walked to the middle of the altar and held out his arm to you, softly smiling, “Shall we?” 

You gave him a small polite smile and nodded, you gently held onto his arm and walked with him down the aisle. 

You both started cheering with the rest of the crowd when Ben stopped at the end of the aisle, dipping your sister down and giving her a deep and slow kiss. 

You chuckled when your sister looked back at you, giggling, looking happier than ever. 

You blew her a kiss and gave her a thumbs up. She returned it and then nodded at Harry and winked at you.

You're kidding me.

'You cheeky little fucker' You immediately knew what she had done. She set this up. You should’ve known better. Your sister had literally been trying to be a matchmaker. This was a new level, though, but you should've known nonetheless. 

The only problem was one thing.

This was none of this was her doing. You just so happened to hit it off with Ben's best man.

When she had set you up with other guys, she never considered Harry. Lila never thought you two would hit it off, frankly. You were from two different worlds. He was from one end and you from the other. He was also just as hard-headed in some ways as you were.

She and Ben never thought to give either of you the chance together; however, there it was– an obvious spark. 

And it’s not that you didn’t like Harry or find him attractive. He seemed sweet, and from the way you two were bouncing back and forth, you got along. He was also incredibly handsome. He was your type, ticked all of your boxes from an outside perspective. All of that was great–  and if you were in a different place, you’d dive in. 

But you weren’t. You still felt broken. 

The last 2 years of relationships and failed dates just ruined your self esteem. You just were not ready to open up your heart or even try to give a guy a chance– even if it was someone like Harry. You were too afraid of getting hurt once again.

You continued to walk to the reception hall, splitting away from your sister and Ben as they went to take photos outside the venue. 

You let go of Harry’s arm and saw your mom motioning for you to come over to her. 

You nodded at her. “I uh, I’ve been summoned…” you chuckled softly and turned to him. “It was lovely to meet you, Harry…” You held out your hand for him to shake. 

He tilted his head a fraction and looked down at you, smiling warmly, “It was lovely to meet you as well…” he took your hand, and instead of shaking it, he leaned down and kissed it gently, keeping eye contact with you.

For once you were speechless. And before you had time to react, one of the groomsmen grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away, “Open bar, man! Come on!” they said excitedly.

Harry looked back at you and smiled, “I’ll find you later?” he shouted as he was being dragged by the arm.

You nodded and smiled politely. “Sure…” You chuckled and then walked towards your mom, putting on a fake smile. 

During the reception, you did what you could to avoid him. You put yourself in every other social situation or task to act busy, rarely sitting down or remaining alone. 

Mainly not allowing yourself to slip into his ‘brown-eyed spell’ as you dubbed it. 

You could feel his gaze on you from time to time, and once when you were waiting for your drink at the bar you clocked him coming your way. You acted like someone call you and rushed off.

He brushed it off, knowing not only were you the maid of honor but the brides sister which he assumed came with more than normal responsibilities during a wedding.

He was confident that one way or another, he'd reconnect with you.

He was sure of it.

Halfway through, it was time for toasts. 

Your sister looked at you and nodded after the DJ announced it, signaling she wanted you to go first. 

You took a deep breath and stood from your seat, taking your glass of champagne in your hand and then gently tapping the knife on it. Everyone started to calm down and look at you. 

You went to start when someone ran over and handed you a microphone, “Oh.. god, ok…” you suddenly got nervous so you chuckled shyly, “Uhm… good evening everyone. For those that don’t know me, I am Lila’s big sister and the maid of honor.” you smiled softly and then pulled out your phone, “I just wanted to say a few words and wishes to the happy couple tonight.” 

You looked up to where your sister and Ben were sitting and let out a breath. “I uhm… I first met Ben when he was standing on my parent's front porch with a bouquet of lilies 3 years ago— pacing back and forth, practicing how he was going to tell Lila how pretty as he rehearsed it to the wall.” You smiled at Ben, and he chuckled and nodded, remembering.

You continued, “We said hello, I gave the usual ‘You hurt her, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident’ talk…” You joked and shrugged nonchalantly, and the crowd chuckled. 

“He took her to see a play. I believe they went to see Phantom of the Opera, right?” You looked at them, and they nodded. 

“Anyway– the importance of this was she had gone out with 3 other guys before Ben that month. She’s also not a big theatre person…” You looked at her, “Which, who doesn’t like the theatre?” you teased. 

The crowd chuckled and you smiled and looked back at your phone and set it down on the table, “But after all three of those dates– she didn’t come home and have the stupid idiot, ‘I’m in love’ smile plastered on her face, the one that has been stuck on her face ever since she went out with Ben.” you smiled at your sister and she teared up, nodding at you. 

“You’ve made each other smile brightly… warmly… and with every ounce of love and adoration since that night. I hope that everyone can find that type of love in their lifetime; that they find their Ben, their Lila.” You nodded at them. 

You cleared your throat and took a breath, feeling yourself tear up, “There's, uh, there's a poem that I found by Kiersten White that says, 

‘And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you, and I'd choose you’...” 

You took a moment and looked around the room, and saw Harry, he was looking at you the way Ben looked at Lila when they first met– like he was content. He was looking at you like you hung the moon and stars. 

Your heart skipped a beat, more butterflies erupted in your stomach, and the devil betrayed you because a blush bloomed across your cheeks as well as a small smile. 

You quickly looked away and found your sister and Ben, swallowing down the jackhammer that was currently trying to break down your walls. 

“I, uhm...” you let out a shaky breath, trying to refocus.

You flexed your hand at your side anxiously and then took a deep breath, “I can trust that in any lifetime, in any world, you two would find each other."

You sighed and teared up seeing your sister wiping her eyes, "I can’t ask for better comfort… to know my best friend… my little sister will know what it is to be loved in every circumstance.” you lightly chuckled seeing Ben lean over and kiss Lila’s cheek, making a tear fall.

Your lip quivered slightly as you began to speak again so you chuckled it away and shook your head, looking down for a moment and then back up at Ben.

“Ben, welcome to the family… I love you like a brother and couldn’t be more excited for you and my sister’s union today.” you smiled and tsked feeling more tears threatening to fall, “So with that, I’d like to toast to the happy couple, may your days be filled with love, laughter, and light– cheers.” you raised your glass and so did everyone else.

You nodded at your sister, assuring her you were ok, just happy for her.

She had tears falling down her cheeks, nodding back at you, then mouthed, ‘I love you’ to which you mouthed back. 

After you sat back down, Ben’s brother, one of the other groomsmen, proposed a toast as well. To which was mainly sharing some embarrassing stories of him but turned out quite heartfelt and tender at the end. 

After the toasts were done, it was time for the couple’s first dance.

The slow music that you sister and Ben had picked out started playing over the speakers, and the lights dimmed. You turned around in your chair to watch them on the dance floor. You leaned your chin against the back of the chair.

You were over the moon for your sister, so happy for her to find her happiness. 

However, in this moment, you realize just how long you have put on a happy face. Since her engagement, you’d not let yourself feel anything but that- forged happiness.

Because as you watched them dance, whispering words of love to each other– a part of you felt sadness, and maybe some envy. 

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt that vulnerable, that free with someone. The last time you felt a fraction of what you’d imagine she was feeling was back in high school at your senior prom. 

‘God, that’s pathetic…’ you thought. That was over 15 years ago. 

You shook your head and refocused, beginning to look around the room at all the happy couples as they watched them dance– observing their expressions, their reactions to their partners sitting next to them, surely whispering words of love as well. 

You were so lost in your thoughts, so deep into the moment, that you didn’t hear the DJ announce for everyone else to join them on the dance floor for the next slow dance. 

Your parents stood and started walking out to the dance floor together, pulling you from your thoughts.

You smiled at them and then looked back and around at all the happy couples joining them before you stood from your chair. You leaned down to grab your glass to go get another drink when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. 

You leaned back up and turned around to find Harry, smiling softly at you with his hand outstretched to you, “May I have this dance?” using those brown puppy dog eyes to his advantage. 

You looked at him and softly chuckled, feeling shy and nervous under his gaze. “I uh… I don’t know how to…” you started, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I’ll teach you…” He held his hand out a little more, “Just one dance?” he smiled just a little softer, tilting his head to the side playfully. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating, and then sighed softly, “Just one…” you put your glass down as you smiled a little and then took his hand gently- this time a spark of electricity zinged up throughout your body. 

He walked with your hand in his out to the dance floor and put the two of you in the middle, lost in the crowd, but when he turned to stand in front of you, it was like the rest of the world disappeared. 

It was just you and him. 

“So you’re going to hold my hand like this…” he moved your hand in his slowly, looking at your hands together then he looked back down at you, “Then your other hand can either rest on my chest… or on my shoulder or around my back…” he explained quietly, his expression was soft and tender.

You swallowed nervously and blushed. You nodded before putting it softly around his back and resting your hand on the back of his shoulder.

“I’m going to put my other hand on your waist…” he gently put his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him slowly, your faces now impossibly close. 

You couldn’t help but smile at how close you were to him, slightly blushing deeper.

His cologne smelled of bourbon and woodsmoke– it was intoxicating. It was comforting. It calmed you. 

His hands were gentle and soft in the way he held you– like you were something to cherish. You felt like the only person in the world, in his world. 

He softly spoke, interrupting your thoughts, “...and then all we’re going to do is step and sway back and forth…” he began to lead, and you followed. 

The music was soft as you swayed with him. There was like a bubble you were both in– everything around you felt blurred or muffled.

After a few moments of silence, you looked up at him and tilted your head. 

“So, you said you recognized me earlier…” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Should I be concerned?” you teased. 

He immediately looked down at you and brought your hand in his, closer to his chest. This effectively pulled you a little closer so you two could hear each other better over the loud music. 

He chuckling softly, “No– nothing like that. I’ve just been to your sister’s house. I’ve seen a few photos of you around her place…” he smiled softly down at you. 

You nodded. “Ah, I see…” You let out a dramatic breath of relief. 

He let out a soft chuckle again, then scoffed, “What? Did you think me a stalker or something?” he acted offended with the biggest smile across his face. 

You smiled and pulled your head back a fraction, “No! No… I just… I don’t have very good luck with guys, that’s all…” You looked down for a moment, chuckling at his playfulness. 

He hummed. “How so?” he asked, still looking down at you. Noticing you slowly opening up to him. Instinctively, his thumb started softly rubbing up and down on your waist as if he was trying to soothe you, coax you to open up to him. 

You looked up at him and saw something in the way he looked at you. He was looking at you like there was something worth looking at. 

However, this was something that immediately set off warning bells in your head. Ones that sounded the alarm to ‘man the walls’, ‘weapons at the ready’ type of alarm. 

Ones that have been up for the last few months whenever something feels like this happens. Or when it feels like it’s getting real. Mechanisms that, over time, you've used to try to keep your heart safe.

You bit the inside of your cheek, and that wall went up– closing yourself back off. “Just… not had the best luck is all.” You cleared your throat and looked at the flower on his chest to focus on something that wasn’t his gaze. 

He swallowed and bit his lip as he looked down at you, noticing the way you were closing yourself up again.

He’d known about what you’d been through, why you were closing up.

Unfortunately, he knew a few of the men that disrespected your time as they were men he and Ben worked with. Men he didn't understand why Ben and Lila would set you up with other than they were single and mutual friends.

Ben and he were good friends. They hung out often as they not only worked together but they had also had been friends since childhood, so there was that element too- a brotherhood. 

That being said, whenever you came home early from a date and called Lila with the news and he was over at their house, he heard how Lila would try to talk you through it. 

He was at Ben and Lila's when your last serious relationship ended on account of Damon, your ex, cheating on you. The sound of your cries on the other side of the phone as you sobbed and questioned your worth– no one should ever go through that. 

After the dating apps ultimately turned you off to the idea of love– Lila would always try to set you up with mutual friends of hers or Ben’s– insisting since they knew them, it'd work out.

For some reason, though, he was never in the running– they never offered him. 

He didn’t know why– maybe it was the different lifestyles? Perhaps Lila just didn’t think the two of you as compatible? 

He never knew why, but today he confirmed there was something between the two of you. There was a spark.

He felt it. 

He knew you felt it, too.

From the way you’d smile at him or the way you melted into his touch, he knew– now he just needed to convince you to give him a chance. He just needed a way in to start breaking down those walls you kept reinforcing.

He hummed and looked over at Ben and Lila as they danced. “I’ve had my fair share of bad luck too lately…” he admitted, trying to find common ground. “I took someone out last week… turns out they were just in it for the wrong reasons.” 

You looked up at him, eyes expressing empathy. “Yeah? What reason? If you don't mind me asking...” 

He tsked, “She was in it for the money.”

You chuckled, “You’re kidding me…” You chuckled more, thinking it was a joke, but then you realized he wasn’t laughing along. 

You quickly stopped, and your smile faded. “Wait, you’re not kidding…” you realized. "Fuck... I'm so sorry..." you looked down, cursing again under your breath.

He couldn’t help but smile widely. “No, it's ok."

He waited for you to look back up before continuing "I, uh… god, how do I say this?” he chuckled. 

You chuckled, now embarrassed but chuckled nonetheless, “You’re loaded?” you joked. 

He chuckled a little louder, turning some heads around you, so he leaned in close to hide his chuckle, making you giggle. 

He looked at you, your eyes meeting his, and slowly stopped chuckling, “I uh, I do well for myself… I’ll say that.” he cleared his throat softly. 

You nodded and then looked at your hand in his, noticing the ring he was wearing. “Well for yourself? Harry, that ring costs more than a year of my salary…” you teased, smiling back up at him. “Who the hell are you?” you raised your eyebrow playfully. 

Boom, there it was– the wall’s foundation cracking.

He took a moment and looked down at you, hearing the song close to ending, so he took a chance- he dove head first. 

He smiled and nodded at you, “Let me take you out to dinner, I’ll show you…” he softly rubbed your waist with his thumb, “What do you say?” he leaned in a closer. 

No sirens. No alarm bells.

Instead- Boom. One brick down. Bang bang… another. 

You blushed, and the smile you had across your face somehow brightened at his boldness. 

You took a moment, reading his eyes, trying to find something, anything to tell you to say no, but you couldn’t. He was sure of himself, so sure of you. 

You swallowed shyly and went to answer when your dad interrupted, clearing his throat and putting his hand on Harry’s shoulder from behind him, “Mind if I cut in?” he said with a smile on his face, obviously not picking up on what was going on. 

Harry’s eyes shot over to your dad's and he chuckled politely, slowly letting go of your waist but not your hand as it fell between you two, away from your dad, “Of course sir…” he looked down at you, “I’ll uh… I’ll find you later?” he said with hope in his tone. 

You felt him run his thumb over your knuckles softly, you couldn’t stop the butterflies from erupting deep down. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, “Yeah, find me later…” you gave his hand a small squeeze of reassurance. 

He pursed his lips together to try and suppress the grin that was forcing itself on his lips but failed, “I will…” he said softly. 

Your dad cleared his throat again, and Harry chuckled nervously and let go of your hand slowly, gently patting your dad's arm, “Good to see you again, Richard…” then walked away, heading towards the bar, looking back over his shoulder at you once more. 

Your dad hummed then softly took your hand and positioned himself to dance with you. He caught your eyeline and nodded at you, “How you holding up, kiddo?” he smiled down at you. 

You looked up at him and gently smiled, “I’m good– other than my feet killing me, I’m good.” You chuckled. 

“Harry wasn’t botherin’ you?” he nodded over his way, raising his eyebrows.

You tsked and sighed, “Dad…” you softly laughed, knowing what he was doing. 

He shrugged, “What? Can you blame me for worryin’?” he looked down at you, eyes soft with concern.

You shook your head, “No… no he wasn't.” you looked down and bit your lip, then looked back up at him, your expression softening, “What do you know about Harry? I mean other than he’s a good friend of Ben’s…” you inquired. 

He looked out into the distance as he thought about what he had known from speaking to Ben about him previously and then speaking to him earlier today, “He’s some big wig in the city… makes real good money. Uh… I know from speakin’ to him earlier that he’s been good friends with Ben since they were young?” he looked at back you curiously, “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged and looked over at Ben and Lila, avoiding his eye contact, “Just askin’...” you said softly, sighing softly. 

Your dad looked over at Harry, who was sitting by the bar, watching the two of you. He smiled softly at your dad– your dad nodded at him politely, then turned back to you, picking up on what he may have just interrupted between the two of you. 

He spoke up softly, “If it’s… just in case you’re wonderin’... I know Ben wouldn’t let him near you without a ten-foot pool if he was bad news, right?” 

You chuckled softly, looking at Ben, knowing how protective he had always been with you, “Yeah… that’s true.” 

He took a breath and cleared his throat, attempting to get your attention. “Bug?”

You looked up at him, your eyes soft and curious. “Yeah, Dad?”   

“I know you’re not lookin’ right now, and your heart is still mendin’... but take it from me… don’t let a good thing pass by just because you think you’re not worthy of it.” he looked at you with nothing but love in his eyes, “I love you bug, and I just want you to be happy.” 

Your dad was someone who rarely spoke his mind. For him to say any of that shocked you. You took a moment before you smiled and leaned up, kissing his cheek, “I love you too, Dad…” 

He smiled, then took your hands, backed up, and slowly spun you around, making you giggle happily as he pulled back and hugged you gently as the song came to an end. 

The DJ came onto the audio system, and an old country song that your sister and dad loved started to play. You immediately knew what that meant as you looked at Lila, who was letting go of Ben’s hands. 

The DJ announced over the room, “If everyone will please exit the dance floor, we will be havin’ the daddy-daughter dance now…” the music gradually getting a little louder. 

Your dad kissed your cheek softly, “I’ll see you later, Bug…” and then walked away towards your sister, leaving you on the dance floor.

You moved off the floor with everyone and then looked towards the bar, expecting to see Harry there, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found. 

You looked around and tried to find him in the reception hall but couldn’t see him, he just seemed to have vanished. He was just there; where could he have gone?

The longer you stood there looking around, your heart dropped a little. 

After a few moments, you shook your head in disappointment and sighed. You cursed yourself for thinking that maybe something was happening between the two of you. The insecurity creeping itself back in. 

You could feel your ears hear up the more embarrassed you felt, a lump forming in the back of your throat as well. 

You clenched your jaw and breathed out a breath through your nostrils, grabbing your phone before you looked up and started walking over to the bar to reinforce that wall that had started to come down.

“Marinti, please?” you looked at the bartender. She nodded and smiled, starting to make it. 

You sat on one of the stools and tucked your hair behind your ear, watching the woman make your drink, blocking out everything else around you. 

Not long after, a young man came up to you, one of Ben’s old college roommates that Lila had tried to set you up with weeks ago, who had bailed at the last minute. 

“Hey, you’re Lila’s sister, right?” he hiccuped, obviously intoxicated. 

You turned your head and politely smiled, “Guilty as charged...” then looked back to the bartender as she handed you your drink, smiling and nodding at her to thank her. 

“I’ll uh, buy you a drink…” he smirked, “I’m Diego…” he held his hand out, leaning against the bar on his side, crowding your space. 

You chuckled softly, taking a sip of your drink. “Well, Diego, as flattering as that I’m sure would be— it’s an open bar, so no one needs to buy anyone a drink… it’s all been paid for...” you said, sounding a bit sarcastic and annoyed. 

He didn’t catch the tone and snapped his fingers, like he’d had an epiphany, “Oh! You’re right!” he chuckled, “You… you’re so smart. Lila said you were smart…” he scooted a little closer to you, tapping the bar to ask for another drink from the bartender. 

You took another sip of your drink, and nodded, “I am smart.” you then sighed at him looking at you up and down, feeling grossed out by the way his eyes darkened lustfully, “I’m also not interested in whatever tree you’re tryna bark up Diego…” you tightly smiled, now annoyed by his presence, taking another sip of your drink. 

He frowned and tsked, “Oh come on, don’t be like that baby…” he put his hand on the small of your back, which made you choke on your drink. 

You coughed then turned and shoved him off you, “I am not your baby and I won’t repeat it, back off asshole…” you warned. 

He tilted his head, and a new darkness fell over him, one that raised a huge red flag in your mind.

He bit his lip, then raised his eyebrow, offended by your action. So he did what any tiny dicked asshole would do and attempted to make you feel just as small.

“Man, you know... they were all right about you… you’re a fuckin’ mess.” he spat, not liking the rejection he’d just received.

You felt your face turn red and tears start to well up, your heart beating so damn loudly that you could hear it in your ears.

You shook your head and clenched your teeth, looking down at your drink then picked it up, “You know what? Maybe I am a mess… but you just showed how tiny your dick is by that antic.” you splashed your drink on him and then smiled tightly, “Good luck scoring with someone else tonight smelling like that." you set your glass down.

"If there’s one thing that will dry a pussy up— it’s a man that smells like bad news…” You then quickly grabbed your things and walked past him towards the main exit doors. 

You needed fresh air. You needed to get away from all this. It was all too much.

Harry had to step away to take a work call, so he moved to the bathroom area to find some quiet. 

When he started walking back to the bar and saw you splash Diego with your drink and then storm out the other end of the hall. He weaved through the party crowd as fast as he could to follow you, concern written on his face. 

When you opened the doors of the venue, you were met with a bitter cold gust of wind, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

You stepped out and let the door fall closed behind you. Your breathing then quickly became frantic and quick, emotions crashing down on you. 

You felt suffocated by this whole night, by this whole last week. Diego just shut off the damn ventilator that was helping you breath. 

You moved your feet forward and kept walking, beginning to somewhat hyperventilate, tears now falling. 

You whispered as you quickly walked down the long set of stairs, needing to get as far away from that damn building as quickly possible, “F-fuck… fuck him… fuck all of it…” you muttered, softly sobbing. 

You kept walking and just so happened to stroll into a vineyard area to the left, hugging your arms as you walked in the cold. 

You felt so embarrassed, so humiliated by what Diego had said.

Is that what they all thought of you? Were you that big of a mess? Is that what Harry picked up on? Was that why he left?

Through the tears that partially blinded your vision, you saw a fountain in the middle of the vineyard. Fairy lights were gathered in the middle, creating an almost peaceful atmosphere. 

It was beautiful. It was sanctuary. 

You started to jog slowly to it, picking up the front of your dress. 

Harry burst through the front doors, softly calling your name, expecting you to be there but when he didn’t find you he looked around, buttoning up his jacket due to the cold, “Fuck… where are you?” he asked himself. 

His eyes searched the area.

There were only two things you could have done: hail a taxi and leave— which you wouldn’t do. He knew your sister would never let you live that down. That or escape somewhere close by. 

He walked down the stairs, and then he saw the vineyard off to the side. Something in his gut told him to go that way, so he did. 

He followed the path, looking down every quiet corner or empty bench. 

When he got to the end of it and saw you by the fountain, sitting on the edge, your fingers dancing across the water— he let go of his breath.

He softened at the image before him, taking in the simple yet overwhelming beauty you were to him. 

He went to walk but then stopped for a moment and swallowed before clearing his throat, trying not to startle or scare you, “You know, when you said to find you later, I was thinkin’ more by the bar or on the dance floor…” he teased as he put his hands in his pockets as he started walking towards you. 

You turned around and saw him and for a split second, your heart leapt. You felt a sense of happiness, relief– but then that stupid insecurity overshadowed it and drop-kicked it out of your being. 

You quickly looked back down at your lap, sadly chuckling, “I’m sorry. I thought you left. I couldn’t find you after I was finished with my dad…” You turned back towards the water and wiped your eyes on the back of your hand, hoping he didn’t see.

He tilted his head as saw you wipe your tears. “I made you a promise, querida…” he said and then sat down on the edge of the fountain, turning his head to look at you, “I’m a man of my word.” 

You nodded, keeping your eyes on the water, little fish coming up to your fingertips, “You’re a rarity amongst men if that’s the case…” then scoffed out a chuckle.

He let the moment sit in silence, letting you have the peace he could tell you needed. 

The music from the reception hall was loud enough you could hear it from where the two of you were.

He listened to the music, and as it began to slow down, an instrumental version of 'Your Needs, My Needs' by Noah Kahan started to play. 

He stood and turned to face you, extending his hand, “We never got to finish our dance…” his eyes soft, inviting. His smile was tender and gentle. 

You looked up at him and then his hand, everything in your body cemented you where you sat. Everything was telling you not to reach up and take his hand, but when you levetated to your feet and took his hand, it almost felt like it was a gravitational pull– it was magnetic.

He pulled you softly to the middle of the courtyard, then let go of your hand. “First things first…” he took off his suit jacket and then wrapped it around your shoulders. “Can’t have you catchin’ a cold, can we?”

You put your arms through the sleeves. It drowned you. 

You looked down at yourself and couldn’t help but giggle at how ridiculous you must look.  

He chuckled and took a step back to look at you, “Much better…” he stepped back and then effortlessly took your hand again. “Now come ‘ere…” then put his hand on your waist, pulling you close. 

You blushed so red that you felt like there might be steam coming from how hot your cheeks felt against the bitter cold at the way he was with you.

Your other hand instinctively landed on his shoulder, lightly holding onto it. You looked down to suppress the smile that had been plastered across your lips. 

He swayed with the music, smiling to himself, knowing he was pulling you out of that shell, knocking down that wall again. 

He waited a few moments, then tempo changed he chuckled and took a small step back to spin you around slowly. 

You giggled and spun around slowly, looking up at him, seeing he was smiling just as much as you were.

When he pulled you back into him, you lost your balance, the alcohol you’d had earlier making you feel a bit light on your feet. You fell into him, lightly yelping as you did so. 

You knocked both of you back a few steps, but he recovered with ease. “Woah there…” he teased as his arm wrapped around your waist to catch you as he stumbled back, chuckling.

You giggled a little louder, feeling silly for the loss of balance. “Told you I couldn’t dance…” 

He chuckled and rubbed his thumb against the small of your back that his hand was now holding you at, “You never said you couldn’t dance, querida… just that you didn’t know how…” he corrected as he retook your hand, pulling it close to his chest, in between the two of you, starting to sway with you once again. 

You pulled back a little to bounce something back at him, putting your hand on his chest to help you balance. 

But your mind was distracted as you could feel his heartbeat against your palm, it pounding just as quickly as yours.

He was just as excited and nervous as you were with him.

You heard him say your name softly, but it was muffled, your head swirling. 

He said it again, this time using his hand on your back to gently pinch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling your eyes up to meet his, saying your name once more, and leaning in a tad. 

Your name sounded different coming off his tongue. It sounded right. It was like everyone had been saying your name incorrectly– you’d been saying it wrong.

With him, it felt warm, full of light– he gave it purpose.   

You were about to say something, having even inhaled before, but before the first syllable came out of your mouth, your phone dinged a couple of times, interrupting the moment. 

You cleared your throat, "Sorry, excuse me..."

You stepped out of his arms and walked over to it as it lay on the concrete wall of the fountain. You picked it up and looked down at it. It was your mom. 

‘Where are you? Lila is about to leave! She said you’re in charge of handing out sparklers to guests?’ 

‘Hello?’ 

‘I need you to answer me…’

‘This isn’t a time to sulk and disappear if that’s what you’re doing. You need to come back to the venue.’

You sighed softly and swallowed down everything you’d been feeling, reality setting back in, that last message hitting a nerve. 

You felt the wall reinforce itself, and with that, you went back to closing yourself up. 

You typed back as response then looked up at Harry as he stood there, waiting for you with a soft smile on his face.

“Sorry uhm, I need to get back…” You picked up your things. You took off his jacket and gently handed it to him, smiling politely before starting to walk back, keeping your head down. 

There was that shift again. The warmth he just felt you exude, and again when you were both on the dance floor in his arms– it was gone. Things had changed. You closed back up. What happened? What the hell did Diego say to you? Who the hell just texted you?

He stood there, and something fueled inside him; he wasn’t one to give up so easily. 

He put his jacket on and quickly caught up with you. “Wait- I’ll walk with you…” He gently placed his hand on the small of your back. 

You kept your eyes forward or down, avoiding eye contact with him. That insecurity that Diego had found earlier was back to its normal scheduled programming of making you feel small, insignificant– worthless.

He cleared his throat softly as you exited the vineyard and started walking back towards the venue, “Hey uhm, whatever Diego said to earn you throwing a drink at him, don’t listen to him— he’s a fool.” he turned his head to look down at you. 

You shook your head and tsked, “Yeah… well, he had a point.” you said numbly as you started walking back up the stairs. 

He stopped and stayed at the bottom, looking at you as you went up. “What did he say to dim that pretty light of yours?” 

You stopped a few steps up, your hand on the rail, and kept your eyes fixated on the ground, tears starting to well in your eyes as you replayed his words in your mind. You moved up a few more stairs. 

He walked up a couple of stairs as you moved, to be just below you, proclaiming, “Because whatever he said, cariño, I can prove that he’s wrong…” he said softly, sounding like he was pleading for a chance. 

You stopped moving, and for a split second, those doors opened back up. You felt like you were easing into him, trusting in his words. 

However, just as fast as they opened, they shut– your mom being the catalyst. 

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she shouted from the top of the stairs, looking down at you with her hand on her hip. She then saw Harry below you and she instantly changed her tone, “Oh Harry, sweetheart, how’s your evening been?” 

You sighed and shook your head, scoffing at her personality change before running up the stairs, leaving Harry where he was. 

He was so close, so close to breaking through those walls.

He looked up at your mom, “Evenin’, Mrs. Winters.” he politely smiled then his eyes followed you as you ran up the stairs. 

He was now determined more than before. He wouldn’t allow you to think of yourself in any way that someone like Diego might have described you or whoever texted you.

Hell no. 

He clenched his jaw and scaled the stairs up to her. “Did you need your daughter’s help with something? Perhaps I can assist?” he smiled.

About 20 minutes later, you had everyone outside and sparklers lit, the happy couple running down the stairs down to a limo that was ready to take them to the airport for their honeymoon. 

After you and the families said goodbye as they left, everyone started to clear out and pack up. 

Your mom grabbed your arm and pulled you aside at the bottom of the stairs. "Okay, so to get the deposit back, we need to have this place cleaned in the next two hours.” She had a panicked look in her eye. 

You chuckled, your feet and back aching from the long day you’d had, unlike her, who had spent most of the night drinking champagne. “You’re kidding, right?” You looked at her in disbelief. Leave it to her to do something like this after a day like this. 

She raised her eyebrow and laughed, pulling you by the hand up the stairs, “Oh, Bug, you’re so funny— of course, I’m not kidding!” 

Harry was talking to another groomsman towards the top when he saw you being dragged by your mom. He excused himself and ran inside after you both. “Mrs. Winters!” he called. 

Your mom turned around and smiled brightly, letting your hand go, “Oh, thank you so much for all your help today, dear!” She touched his arm, smiling brightly at him.

He smiled down at you, then looked at your mom. “I, uh, was wondering if you needed any help with the cleanup?” He was going to do anything he could to spend more time with you tonight. 

“Oh, there’s no need for that! My Richard said you had an early morning— you should go home and get some sleep! I’m sure today has been so exhausting for you.” she tsked sympathetically and now patting his arm. 

He smiled warmly, “That’s very kind of you but with all due respect, ma’am, it wouldn’t be right of me as the best man to leave you to do all this work.” he put his hand over hers, “Put me to work— I must insist.” he winked at her. 

Your mom looked at you and raised her eyebrow towards Harry as she leaned over to whisper to you. “See now, why can’t you find a man like him, Bug?” she jabbed at you, in her way, trying to be funny. 

Normally, you’d feed into her humor and punch something back. However, that hit a nerve this time. 

You looked at her sadly and bit your lip, then muttered under your breath as you turned away, “I’m going to go… do something else…” Then you walked away towards the refreshment table, going to pack up the food first. 

Your mom noticed the sudden drop in your mood and felt like shit. “Shoot, I…” she sighed and wanted to go after you but knew you would need space from her after something like that. 

Harry noticed how the comment immediately made you shrink, and the look you had across your face broke his heart.

He looked down at your mom and cleared his throat softly. “I’m going to go help her…” he nodded and then walked towards where you were packing everything up into to-go containers.   

He came up and stood next to you, starting to help pack up the food in silence. After a few minutes he stopped and turned his head, “I don’t know what Diego said, or what’s goin’ on..." he softly sighed.

"You don’t have to say anything, but just know I’m here. “ I’m here if you need someone to talk to,” he said, reaching over and gently touching your hand, which was lying flat on the table as you listened to him.

You clenched your jaw, and tears began to well up at his touch. You kept your eyes on the box in front of you, doing everything you could to not melt into a puddle of tears in front of him. 

For the last few months, there was a pain deep in your chest that had been festering– not allowing anyone in, anyone close enough to you.

However, no matter how hard that fester tried to push him away or avoid him tonight, he kept coming back. He kept showing up. 

You couldn’t help but feel the pain start to morph into something different under his touch. It wasn’t pain, it wasn’t depression, it wasn’t sadness. 

Instead, it was something light. It was something hopeful. 

It was your heart starting to beat again- beginning to mend. 

Next Chapter

no pressure taglist: @thebeautytoyourbeat, @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000 @fancyyoouu @greendudenumber7, @queenofdisaster12 @axshadows @mystickittytaco @yxtkiwiyxt @alltheirdamn @punkshort @stylesispunk @iheartoldermem @mermaidgirl30 @mountainsandmayhem @sp00kymulderr @brittmb115 @poor-unfortunate-soul9927 @spacelatinos4life @pedge-page @pedropascalfab

[armoredprincess]

After all the pirouettes, the power of friendship, the beams, it ends with her pinned under you, your hands on her face. When she growls, abortive transformation sequences sparkle up her eyes.

You raise a fist. She spits blood, and asks: “Why?”

Alien invaders, promises of power, Earth a lost cause. It’s not a hard decision to understand. “Abigail...”

“Don’t call me that.” She writhes in your grip, glares, squirms some more. “My name is Absalom and I am not your fucking sister.”

Sure, but whoever heard of a magical boy? Those pants look so stuffy. Hardly any frills. Your hand turns to a claw. She looks at it with wordless defiance, like she would the barrel of a gun. But you have much better plans than that.

You expect her insides to be warm and tight, but then, you are in her body only historographically. Her fate is a cold void of decision, perhaps a tad denser than that of mortals who haven’t been chosen to fight eternal wars of justice. Following her heartline, you arrive at the knotted center of her fate, taut until you find purchase on the string. Abigail’s eyes gape. You press one hand to her face, so she won’t seize her head into the pavement, and pull.

She comes unwound, back arched, tense down to her toes. Pain resonates through the string: it’s like having her optic nerve spaghettied around a fork. You pull the string around your newly granted authority over the planet, constrict Earth around her fate in double bowline. When you’re done, her tears have gone silent.

“Your name is Abigail.” You pluck the string. It hums eight billion contained screams. “Say it.”

“Absalom,” she moans.

The string feeds back. The ground quakes. Near the vanishing point, one of the few skyscrapers left standing crumples into itself and dashes a thousand dreams. The same happens in Colombo, Bangkok, Brasilia, Zaragoza and Chongqing. She understands this instinctively. A breath of near-death strength returns to her. She turns from the glassy sky, towards you.

“I’m Abigail.” Like a whisper, like nobody else will hear.

“And?”

“And I’m your sister.”

The string harmonizes back in time. Right there, under the weight of your hips, she changes: skin soft, chest pert but giving, skirt three layers of flaring petticoat. She pats at herself with a fuzzy confusion, new and true memories edging out someone else’s past. You hold her tight until she relaxes, and accepts, like she used to, that her big sister knows best.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

The Only Place That I Call Home - No Love Love Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: The real tragedy in No Love Lost is The Boys having to watch Her and Ben pretend they're capable of being normal about each other. Title from Heartlines by Florence and the Machine.

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary/Warnings: It's team game night, and everyone is sick of you and Ben's shit. Takes place in Chapter 24. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, smut (blowjob, some fingering, p in v sex)

“We’re not playing codenames,” MM snapped. “The ban is fucking permanent, so drop it.”

“It’s a stupid ban,” She muttered, glaring at Ben’s hand as she turned it over between her fingers. It was hard to focus when She touched him like that. So natural and thoughtless, like he’s only an extension of her. He might be. She was perfect, and Ben would gladly just be a fucking extension of her. There wouldn’t be another goddamn idiot pussy he’d rather just be a weapon or tool of. “You’re just a sore loser-“

“We ain’t sore losers, Love,” Butcher snapped. “We’re just bloody sick of you always winning. Because you fuckin cheat.”

Ben almost snorted at the look of indigence on Her beautiful face. It was adorable, how She looked so genuinely offended by the very idea that she’d ever cheat, when they both knew that she cheated at almost every goddamn game they played with the team. Codenames is just the only one everyone else has caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She stuck her chin up at Butcher, and it would be regal if she wasn’t full of such fucking bullshit. “I’ve never cheated in my life, Butcher, and I’m wounded you’d think that low of me.“

“I’ve thought a lot fuckin lower,” Butcher drawled Her name, and she scowled. “And you are cheatin. Because that cunt,” Butcher nodded to Ben. “Always helps you.”

Her hand folded fully over Ben’s as she held Butcher’s glare. “Last time we were on different teams-“

“And that motherfucker sabotaged everyone for you,” MM grunted. “No fucking codenames.”

Her sharp eyes turned to Ben. Are you going to fucking defend our honor.

You don’t have honor, Sunshine. He grinned, kissing the top of Her head. And we do cheat. All the fucking time.

I don’t make you cheat-

My loyalty is to you. He shrugged. Not whatever pussies I get put on a stupid fucking team with. And you never complain-

Because I like winning, Benjamin, and-

You don’t have any fucking honor.

Fuck you.

At the dinner table? In front of everyone? He raised his eyebrows, smirking down at her pretty, flushed face. That’s fucking disgusting-

I hate you.

No you don’t. Ben smirks, pulling her closer to his side. You love me.

I do, She sighed, whacking his arm before dropping her head on his shoulder. You’re such a fucking asshole, but I do.

“You twats want to clue us into your secret bloody brain sexting-“

“No.” She shot Butcher a glare, and he was smart enough to just wink back. “If it’s not codenames, what are we doing.”

“We could do Monopoly-“ 

Annie shook her head, cutting Hughie off. “Butcher always wins Monopoly, and he’s always a smug ass about it after.”

“It ain’t my fault I got killer business instinct-“

“I think you’re just a heartless dick,” Annie shrugged. “Only psychos are good at Monopoly-“

“You’re just real fuckin salty, Starlight, cause you hate admittin I’m good at somethin-“

“Oh, shut up-“

“What about Clue?” Frenchie cut off Annie this time, flinching slightly at her glare. “My apologies Annie, but I would like to begin with a game before it becomes midnight-“

“No Clue,” MM grumbled. “Those two cheat with that one as well.”

Ben decided not to punch MM, because they did in fact cheat at Clue, and Her annoyed pout made him want to pick her up and suck on her lips until she moaned, and they did end up fucking at the dinner table.

Ryan raised his hand slightly. “Could we, um, could we do Uno? I like Uno.”

The table fell silent, nobody willing to point out that She and Ben would almost certainly be cheating at Uno when Ryan looked so fucking hopeful, and Her glare made it pretty damn obvious she’d kill anyone who shot the idea down.

“I can do Uno,” Hughie mumbled, and when everyone gave small nods of agreement he rose up, going to retrieve the game from wherever the fuck they kept it.

Ben felt a tug on his arm, and looked down to find Her very pointedly not looking at him, attention focused on Frenchie, explaining Uno to Kimiko.

What.

Are we cheating.

He coughed, failing to cover his laugh as Annie gave him an odd look. No fucking honor, darling-

Shut up. I had a fun idea, but if you’re going to be a dick-

Ben tangled Her fingers between his, muttering Her name between their heads. If you want to cheat and win, I don’t give a fuck about it-

I want to win. She glanced up at him. But I can win at multiple things.

Ben frowned. What the fuck are you talking about.

No cheating, a smile played on her pretty lips, and Ben wanted to trace them with his hands and mouth and cock. She was so fucking beautiful, it was an issue to his attention as she continued. Because we’re competing against each other.

Why the damn hell would we do that.

Because whoever wins gets to be in charge of sex tonight.

Christ, he fucking loved Her. You sure you want that, Sunshine? Ben leaned down, bumping his nose with Hers, smirking as her heart jumped slightly. Because I’ll fucking kick your ass, my love. And you won’t get off easy, he nipped at her lower lip, and her mouth fell open. When I win.

If you win.

He chuckled. Brat.

Cunt. You in, or are you too much of a fucking pussy-

Ben tangled his hand in Her hair, pulling her up into a deep kiss. I’m in. Get ready to fucking lose.

Take your own advice, Pretty Boy. She pulled back with a wide smile, and Ben had never seen anything better. I’m going to make you regret being born.

That wasn’t fucking possible. Ben didn’t think he’d ever regret a thing again, when whatever he’d done before had gotten him here. Feeling all Her love for him in every corner of the world, with her perfect, sharp, bright eyes on his and her body fitting like a missing half against his.

She was real fucking serious about winning—she’d stood up, moving to sit beside Ryan across the table so Ben couldn’t see her cards—and it was going to make it so much more satisfying when Ben emerged victorious. He was already lining out what he wanted to do—maybe some edging, make her moan and beg and squirm under him as he teased her—but he was adaptable. If they got home and he realized she was already fucking dripping through her underwear, he’d probably just fuck Her. But he had to win first.

They’d had to combine two Uno decks—nine people was apparently too much for one fucking pussy deck to handle—and it took Ben about fifteen seconds after Frenchie dealt to realize that he couldn’t fucking remember how to play Uno. And when he looked up at the casual, sharp amusement on Her face, he realized She’d fucking expected that.

You cheated.

We’re not cheating, Benjamin. We agreed on that-

I didn’t fucking say we, I said you.

I don’t know what you’re implying. She glanced up from her cards with almost fucking sparkling eyes, and Ben felt like someone had dropped a building on him. Actually, he’d had a building dropped on him. This was a whole lot fucking better, because it was made of all her love and adoration and perfect, clever brain and smart fucking mouth. Are you getting worried, Pretty Boy? Want to call it off?

Never in a million goddamn years. Want to hear how I’m going to fuck you when I win?

She hummed, looking back to her cards. I think that’s foul play.

This whole thing is foul fucking play. Distracting Her with dirty talk was also the only fucking chance Ben had to win, but she didn’t need to know that. I’m going to finger you first, darling. See if we can get three fingers at the start this time, if I make you wet enough. Her heartbeat picked up, her eyes becoming slightly glazed, and Ben pushed on. You might already be fucking wet enough, you’re always so fucking wet for me, but I’d like to get you so wet you fucking squirt all over me. Make you fucking scream-

Ben. She shot him a half-hearted glare. Shut it. Stop cheating.

You started it.

She wrinkled Her perfect nose at him. Fuck you.

I will. With three fingers, then my tongue, then my cock, until you’re a beautiful, wrecked mess-

A crumpled up napkin hit him in the face, and when Ben glowered at Her, she just shrugged. I told you to shut it.

Ben didn’t shut it. By the time the game was halfway done, he’d gotten hit in the face with five more napkins, a plastic spoon, and a cup that still had some fucking water in it. But he was still fucking losing. By a lot. Half the damn deck was in his hand, She was down to two cards, and there was no actual warning in Her glares or distress trading between their bodies, so Ben kept telling her every single filthy thought that crossed his mind.

And he still fucking lost. Kimiko—despite only learning the game twenty minutes ago—won first, but everyone groaned to keep going for second place. When Ryan won soon after that, it became about third. Ben was hardly able to hold his cards in his hands—everyone had a fucking vendetta against him, and he’d been hit with so many plus two cards it had to be some sort of targeted fucking play they’d all agreed on behind his back—and the game was between Her and MM.

She won, with an overdramatic slam of a green five on the pile, and a wide grin around the table. And when Her eyes met Ben’s, already blown out and thirsty, he felt his dick twitch in his pants.

“If you losers will excuse me,” She stood up, still holding Ben’s gaze. “I’ve had to shit for the last fifteen minutes.”

MM’s face twisted in disgust. “You could’ve just fucking left, you don’t need to tell us-“

“Sorry,” She shrugged, clearly not fucking meaning it. “If you wanted not to hear about my bowel movements, you shouldn’t have shot yourself in the foot by changing it to green.” 

As She turned away from the table, walking off to the dining hall bathrooms, her voice rang in Ben’s head. Give it five minutes, then follow me.

He gave it three. They were now going for fourth, nobody seemed to think he was a serious contender for the title, and Ryan eagerly volunteered to play for him, so with a grumbled thanks and half-run to the bathroom, Ben followed Her.

She was waiting for him, arms crossed as She leaned against the wall. “That was not five minutes-“

Ben locked the door behind him, and slammed his mouth onto Hers with a groan, swallowing every single moan and pulling her half off the ground as he touched Her fucking everywhere.

“Ben-“

“So fucking smart,” he muttered, dropping his head to her neck and sucking on that one spot that made her like putty in his hands. “You’re such a fucking brat, Sunshine-“

“And I won,” Her voice was breathless, but still smug. “So I’m in charge, Benjamin-“

He chuckled Her name against her skin, moving one hand under her shirt, palming at her breast. “We both know this ends with me fucking you, darling, so just damn say how you want it-“

She pushed him off—her hands heated enough to grab Ben’s attention, but not to burn him—and dropped to her knees, smirking up at him as she ran a hand up his thigh. “I’m in charge. And I want to suck your dick. Can I please-“

Ben had never moved fucking faster. Belt off, pants down, freeing his cock to press against Her pretty, parted, slightly swollen lips. Even if she hadn’t won that stupid bet, he’d never fucking turn Her down for this. Not when she was smiling up at him under her lashes, playing with his balls as she swirled her tongue over the head of him, teeth scraping as she squeezed him and he bucked forward slightly.

He growled Her name, fighting every single instinct in his body to just pick her up and fuck Her. Push himself into her perfect pussy, make her breathing as heavy and ragged as his was. Cover himself in the wetness he could see dripping onto the bathroom floor, her pants having been tossed off to the side so she could fucking finger herself. “If you don’t move-“

She leaned back, giving him a fake pout that made his cock jump in her hands. “No.”

“Christ, woman-“

She started to stroke him, gentle and almost fucking painful with how goddamn slow it was, and he groaned.

“I won, Ben. And I want you to fuck my face,” He hissed through his teeth as She licked the underside of his cock. “But if you’re going to be an ass-“

“You won,” he grunted, gripping the sink with one hand and tilting her head back with the other. “You fucking won, and I’ll fuck your face any goddamn day-“

She nodded, grinning. “When I tell you, pull out.”

“What-“

“Trust me.”

He nodded slowly, and when Her mouth fell open, Ben pushed himself down her throat, almost fucking moaning at how good she felt. Fucking sinful, Her tongue swirling around him, Her pretty eyes fluttering as he bumped the back of Her throat. He was pretty sure that he could find release just like this. Watching Her below him, her cheeks hollowed out and one of Her hands playing with herself as she held his gaze. She was fucking threat to Ben’s health, with how goddamn perfect she was. With a little drool escaping her lips as Ben’s cock rested between them, a hand steadying herself against his thigh, grinding onto the fucking floor-

That’s what got Ben to move. She was squirming against her own touch, and he could fucking smell how wet she was, hear her whimpers around his dick when his hips rutted slightly, and he wasn’t allowed to take care of Her until after this. So he tangled his hand in Her hair, tugging her almost fully of of him before slamming her back down, bucking his hips before repeating it over and over until She was moaning, pretty eyes rolling back in her head and her lips perfectly fucking puffed.

He was close. She’d started to suck on him when he hit the back of her throat, and lick the tip of his cock when he pulled back, and Ben could feel the coil in his gut growing tight and hot, and fuck She was so perfect and beautiful and he felt goddamn high-

He hissed Her name as her nose bumped his lower stomach, her high and desperate whine making him rut up into her. “Christ, you’re so fucking good. Gonna fucking paint your perfect fucking body in me, darling, fucking love you, look so fucking beautiful with your pretty fucking mouth stuffed with my cock-“

Her nails began to sink into Ben’s skin, Her hips rolling against her own touch. Ben had never been fucking jealous of someone actively sucking him off, but god fucking dammit it should be him touching Her. She should be squirming under Ben’s touch, not having to fucking drip all over the bathroom floor. Everything was fading into a daze of Her, bright and soft and so fucking full of love it made Ben a little insane, and he was so fucking close to cumming right in her fucking vice of a mouth-

Out. Her voice was breathless in Ben’s head, and his hand loosened on her head before he’d even fully registered the words.

“What-“

She surged upwards, grabbing Ben’s face and pulling it down to hers, and he let every fucking instinct of Her, Her, Her take over. Spinning them around, slamming her into the wall as one hand dropped down, pinching and flick at her clit until she became putty in his arms, running one finger between the lips of her pussy, teasing at her opening but never pushing in-

“Ben-“ She gasped as he dropped his mouth to her neck, biting that one spot as he pressed his thumb around her clit, rubbing slow circles everywhere around it. “Fuck-“

“So fucking good, Sunshine-“

Ben’s words were cut off with a strangled groan as her hand wrapped back around his cock, pumping him so fast he was pretty goddamn sure it might make him pass out.

“Inside,” She whispered, lips brushing against Ben’s ear as his arms tightened around her. “Want you to cum inside-“

Ben dropped one hand to Her thighs, pushing them open without a further fucking question and ramming himself into her with a half shout of pleasure. He felt himself bottom out, rolling his hips just enough to angle himself against that deep part of her that always made her scream, and when She came—her moans and shouts of his name in his ear, her pussy contracting around him, and her hands scratching at his back—Ben cracked the wall as he slammed up into Her, relief crashing through him.

“So fucking tight, darling.” He growled against her skin, and she whimpered. “Good girl, taking me so fucking well. Fucking love you-“

Someone slammed their fist against the door, and they both froze.

“We can all hear you horny cunts humpin like bloody rabbits! Keep it in your fuckin pants!” Butcher shouted through the walls, hitting the door one last time.

“Either we cheat or we fuck,” Ben drawled back, letting Her bury her beautiful, flushed face in his chest. “So let us cheat, or buy some goddamn earplugs.”

“You could just not fuck,” MM yelled, sounding a little further away. “Not fucking is an option-“

Ben rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back where it belonged. With Her.

“If we run,” he muttered, forcing himself to pull out of Her and ignore the way he was already half-hard again from the sight of his cum, dribbling down her thighs. “We can get you back to the apartment, and keep fucking without any goddamn interruptions.”

“I, um,” She leaned against him as they dressed, and Ben realized there was a slight wobble to her knees. He’d fucking done that. “I don’t want to run-“

He scooped her up into his arms with a smirk and a kiss to her brow. “Hold on.”

“Wait,” She looped her arms over his neck, playing with his hair as she studied his face. “I’m still in charge. When we get home.”

Ben snorted, hauling her further up his chest to mutter against Her lips. “Tonight you’re in charge, Sunshine. But next time, I’m fucking winning, and you’re going to cum so many times you can’t walk for a goddamn week.”

She swallowed, mouth parting, and Ben pushed his tongue between her lips, sucking on the lower one in a silent promise.

“And if I win again-“

“You won’t.” Ben pulled back, giving her a wink. “Because we’re going to do a team game, and I’m going to take Ryan. And you’ll lose for him on fucking purpose.”

She scowled. “Cunt.”

“Brat.” Ben grinned at Her, and her pretty lips—still fucking swollen from his cock—pulled into a smile as pure, raw fucking joy painted Her feature. “Let’s get you home.”

End Note: I feel like the Boys would have the most foul Jackbox night. Things would be said that should've never been said in the first place, and will never be said again. She and Ben would make a voting block. MM would quit when his smart joke lost to Frenchie writing "massive balls" for the seventh time in quiplash. Someone would break the TV.

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[visionsofyouandme]

Alleviate

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Joel comes home from work, stressed after a long day. You offer some relief.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.6k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: No Outbreak!AU. Joel Miller x afab!reader. Domesticity. Joel is stressed and therefore a little needy. Swearing. Age gap or not (you decide!). Reader has hair that can be pulled. SMUT (18+ MNDI). Dry humping. Sub!Joel. Oral (m!receiving). Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Not proofread (oops).

𝙰/𝙽: Here's a little something for this Sunday. Delays for Heartlines and cowboy!Joel are imminent- got some personal stuff going on. But, I'm going to do my best to get them up and running here soon! Hope you enjoy this lil one shot of helpin' our man Joel out... Enjoy!

Joel slammed the car door and sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face as he walked up the steps to home. 

Well, your home. 

He had gone to his own, yes, to shower and clean up. But, he felt a longing that had been in him since yesterday, and it had finally materialized once the day had faded to night.

Joel had been seeing you for quite some time now. Tommy had told Joel that he was inviting a “pretty young woman” to the Super Bowl party last year. Ever since, he’s had a hard time driving you from his mind. 

It had started off innocent enough- he would help with things that constantly seemed to break- the air conditioner, the washer and dryer, other appliances. He had come around enough that he stayed for a drink or two afterwards. And then he would stay the night.

Then one night after far too many drinks for either of your preferences, you kissed him.

Ever since, it’s never been the same. 

So, he found himself dragging himself to your house despite a long day. Not everyday, of course, as you weren’t his wife or anything- but enough that you stopped being surprised when he showed up. And eventually gave him a key to let himself in.

He took said key and did just that- opening your door and pushing inside, hand splayed against the door. He took a few careful steps in, seeing as it was late at night and he didn’t want to wake you. He would probably crawl into bed with you after raiding your kitchen, and call it a night. 

When he rounded to the kitchen, he stopped. You stood by the stove, wearing nothing but underwear and one of his buttoned flannels, holding a spatula. You turned to him, and he saw a surprised expression flash across your face that quickly changed to happiness.

“Evening.” You said, and he nodded, his eyes still lingering on your bare legs. He walked to the kitchen table not too far away, and pulled a chair out, sitting down. You took off the food from the burner, having finished cooking the eggs at just the right time.

“Rough day?” You questioned when he said nothing, and looked back at him. His eyes finally flicked back to your own, and he shrugged. Smirking, you walk over to him. Pushing your hands through his graying hair, you tilt his head up to meet your gaze.

“You know, if you can’t tell me what's wrong, I can’t help.” You chided him, and he breathed softly, leaning his head down and into your midsection. Your eyebrows knitted, but you pressed a hand to his hair, the other hand on his shoulder.

“‘M just tired. Fuckin’ customers and their shit. Y’know?” He said, his voice a mumble, but you caught it anyway. You nodded, looking down and pressed a kiss to his hair. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He lifted his head, his brown eyes normally hard were now soft, the line between his eyebrows gone.

“Tell me about your day.” He said, his hand moving to touch your thigh, wrapping around the back of it gently. If Joel was anything, he was a gentle lover. He liked being in control, but respected your boundaries, and only went as hard as you instructed. You were the deciding factor on how hard or soft it would be, and you liked it that way.

So, you took the moment and slid into his lap, straddling his hips. Your toes brushed the ground, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Well, it’s Saturday. Woke up, watered the plants, took a shower…” you recounted, and began to run your hands through his hair, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back slightly. You grin as you could see the hard exterior melt away even more, and you massaged his scalp gently. His hands found their way to your waist, where he held you with increasing pressure as you touched him. 

“… made lunch, read some of my book. Caught up on a few episodes of…” you continued, your voice soft and even. You tested something as you ran your hands through his hair, and tugged on his locks.

He didn’t speak, but he did stiffen, and his head moved straight as he looked down at you. You regarded him with an even expression, but secretly wondered if he wasn’t in the mood tonight. 

His grip on your waist loosened, and he leaned back in his seat. You feigned a resigned look, but he then pulled you close to his chest rather abruptly. He pressed his hand to the small of your back, and you could feel his cock press through the fabric of his jeans. You let out a soft sigh, and began to move your hips just slightly against his.

Your panties offered little barrier between your core and the seam of his jeans. And that thrilled you.

“Jesus,” he muttered, your name coming shortly after. You couldn’t help but smirk, your hands finding his hair again and you continued to move your hips into his. His breath came out in a hiss, and he held fast to your waist, bringing you down more onto his clothed member. 

“You alright?” You questioned, though it comes out like a taunt. He looked down at you, and you saw a darkness within them that you had seen on a handful of occasions. You tilted your head to the side as if to ask the question again, and he took your chin in his hand with a bit of force.

“More than alright.” He said, his voice low. He then pulled you towards him and kissed you with fervor. So much so that you began to lean back from the pressure, but he caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He began to lift his hips against yours, and you let out a soft whine.

“God-“ you began, but he kept his lips locked with yours, and it quite literally took your breath away. He licked at your bottom lip, asking for entrance. When you didn’t respond to his liking, he slid his tongue between your lips anyway. 

Your hands rested on the nape of his neck, hands threading through whatever hair you could find there. You felt a hand wander from your waist, down to your ass, and he gave it a firm squeeze, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

He continued to buck his hips up to yours, and you swore you could feel a wetness pooling between your legs. You weren’t sure if it was from you or Joel’s precum.

“Sweetheart,” he panted against your lips, pulling away to look at you with lust blown eyes. “I’m gonna need you. Now.” 

You were floored. He never really was this… forward. Normally he gave some subtle hints, or let you take the lead on things. But this time? It was very, very apparent that he was not playing patient tonight. 

“But, the food-”

His face told you, “fuck the food.” 

So, you could only nod, trying to hide the light smile as he picked you up by your waist. You wrapped your legs around him securely, beginning to pepper kisses on his neck.. Joel’s hand tightened around your waist, the other hand moving to your thigh. 

He walked into your bedroom and pretty much threw you onto the bed. You bounced lightly, and looked up at him as he began to undo the buttons of the flannel you wore. You watched him in amusement for second, until his face turned pained, desperate. You put your hands over his, and his eyes moved up to yours. You raised your eyebrows,

“Let me take care of you,” you said quietly, and he shook his head minutely, and your grip tightened. You raised your eyebrows, daring him to try to turn you away again. His hands eventually fell from the buttons and you stood up, putting your hands on his waist and turning him around, pushing him to sit on the bed. He watched you with half-lidded eyes, and you could see his shoulders drop just a bit. You ran your hands down his chest gently, and then slowly sunk to his knees. His hands immediately flew to the edges of the bed, gripping it tightly. You made slow work of opening his belt buckle, then sliding the zipper down. You could feel how hard he already was under your hands, and when you pulled him from the confines of his jeans, it stood at attention eagerly. 

You glanced up at him, and took him in hand, giving him a few pumps of preparation. He sucked in a breath, and you wiggled an eyebrow up at him.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing. Lay back.” you said, and he shook his head,

“No. Wanna see you-” he said, but it contorted into a groan as you swiped your tongue over his tip, then up and down the shaft. He shuddered, and you gave another experimental lick over his head, lapping up the precum. 

“Suit yourself.” you said with a teasing grin before taking him into your mouth. You took him bit by bit, hearing him breathe above you, going from pained to pleasured. You took him down to the base, his coarse hairs almost rubbing your nose. You began to move your head up and down, allowing the saliva to coat his cock, making it easier to suck.

“Jesus. Fuck-” he began, and you groped for his hand and placed it overtop of your head, urging him to hold you. He took the command, and threaded his fingers through your hair gently, but it tightened at a particular harsh suck, your cheeks hollowing out.

There we go.

You could hear him trying to hold back the groans, the soft pants that began to come from his lips. But, you alternated between sucking and licking, enjoying your time with him, drawing it out. You could feel him tensing beneath you, cock pulsing, and how he was struggling to hold back. His hand on your hair gripped tighter, and he then pulled you off of him with a force you never expected of him. You looked up at him, gasping for breath out of shock and exertion, and he pulled you to your feet. 

“Please- Please, let me-” he began, and you bent down to kiss him hotly, and he lapped up the salty taste of his precum from your lips and mouth. You did your best to rid yourself of your underwear, breaking away to slide them down your legs as Joel lifted his hips to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. 

You looked at him, and could see the most pitiful expression on his face. Submissive, begging, pleading. He had been like this before, but never this extreme. You somewhat liked it, having this much control over his pleasure. 

But, you couldn’t deny him. Not when he looked at you like that. 

He was about to move you to the bed when you took his shoulders and climbed into his lap for the second time that evening. You took his cock in hand, and positioned it underneath your weeping pussy. You could hear him sputter, give some kind of protest, but when you sunk onto his cock with ease, that shut him up pretty quick. 

“I’m supposed to take care of you, remember?” you whispered, taking his face in your hands, only to see his eyes screwed shut tightly. He gave the slightest nod, and you let him adjust to the newfound sensation of the warmth and silkiness of your insides gripping him. 

He said your name softly, barely a full breath, and you began to move your hips. His hand flew to your lower back, and brought you closer to him. He leaned his forehead on your shoulder, bucking his hips into yours as you took over most of the work. You swayed your hips back and forth, up and down, the wet squelching sounds filling the room. But, Joel’s groans and soft curses seemed to drown it out.

“So… fucking… good…” he groaned, and you kissed at his temple gently, a hand on his shoulder for more leverage as the other held onto his hair. He nosed his way down the flannel to the open portion of it, pushing it out of the way to begin to lap at your breast. When he took a nipple in his mouth, you gasped, your grip tightening in his hair. He groaned in response to the subtle movement of praise. 

You began to move with a little more force, feeling your own peak come on. You weren’t hellbent on coming, wanting to take care of Joel first. But, his hand pressed at your lower back, then grabbed your ass roughly, his hips meeting yours with deeper thrusts. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you,” he panted, and lifted his head to look at you. Eyes blown, lips swollen, hair disheveled, he looked like an image of lust. 

And he was all yours.  

The hairs of his base touched your clit just so, and you came down with a particularly hard movement, then another, then a third. He kissed at your neck, and you gave your first whimper of the evening as he began to suck lightly, knowing that it drove you insane.

You clenched around him, seeing stars, and exhaled a breath so deeply that you didn’t know you were holding. You felt him shudder underneath you, and he began to lift you off of him, knowing he was aching to come, but you held fast.

“In-Inside, inside, Joel,” you panted, sounding exactly like the desperate command you intended. You heard him curse a string of “fucks” softly, and then a groan that shook his chest as he came, his spend pumping into you in quick, long bursts. You continued your best to keep up the movement to prolong it, but your thighs were burning, and you were still reeling from your own orgasm. 

He eventually still, his head pressed to your chest, his breathing trying to even out. You knew your heart was beating fast, and sweat collected on your brow. But, you just wanted to stay like this, wrapped up in his embrace, knowing you helped him in the best way you could.

When he lifted his head, you tilted his head up to you, and you smiled gently.

“Feel better?” you said, and he smiled just the slightest. He was still reeling from his high, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt and pressed a kiss to his lips. He gathered his bearings and kissed you back, and you slid off of his softening cock, both of you hissing at the loss of contact. You rose on shaky legs, his spend dripping down your inner thighs. You began to turn to the bathroom, and he pulled you towards him again. He took your cheek in his palm and brought you down to kiss you deeply, your breath swept away in his mouth.

You pulled away, looking down at him and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it gently with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, I think you’ll make it through another day, Mr. Miller.” you giggled, and he stood up, pulling his shirt over his head before undoing the last couple of buttons on the flannel, backing you up to the bathroom.

“All thanks to you,” he said, and you shrugged with a prideful smile. 

“I try my best,” you said, pausing at the threshold and leaned up to kiss his lips. You pulled away just a bit, and tilted your head up to meet his eyes, wrapping your arms around his middle. “Do you wanna join me-?”

“Way ahead of you, sweetheart.” 

[sitp-recs]

Hi! :)

Could you please do a funny/witty/bantery rec list?

Looking more so for writing tone, but dialogue would ofc also be okay!

Thank you so much x

Hi there! I have a reclist for witty!Draco, but here are some witty fics I really love. They are such fun reads I remember exactly which scenes made me laugh out loud. In terms of writing tone, 4 authors whose sense of humor always hit the mark for me are astolat, shiftylinguini, blamebrampton and iota. Enjoy!

Tense by Faith Wood (E, 3k)

Harry and Draco have sex. Very, very slowly. Seriously, this is, like, 3K of penetration.

Never Gonna Give You Up by InnerLilith (E, 5k)

Five times Harry rickrolls Draco and one time Draco gets him back.

Game On by @pennygalleon (T, 5k)

Draco blows Harry a kiss and the press goes nuts. Harry suggests they use this to their advantage.

Matched Set by astolat (E, 6k)

“No one asked you to look, did they?” Draco said, eyes glittering and intent on Harry’s face—like he’d just wiped off the years and turned back in time to when their greatest ambition in life had been to knock the other off his broom in front of the school and grab the Snitch first, before they’d both gone to war and come back with scars.

Up The by @shiftylinguini (E, 7k)

“I feel I need to point out,” Draco kissed gently over Harry’s Adam’s apple, “that this is the most Gryffindor approach to conception that could possibly exist.”

draco malfoy's substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (E, 10k)

When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.

The Loathly Worm by Selden (E, 12k)

When Draco Malfoy is forced to go undercover among the remaining Death Eaters in the aftermath of the war, the last person he expects to find there is Harry Potter.

Party of Two by fireflavored (E, 13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

keep it down, orphaned (E, 13k)

Malfoy’s an inconsiderately loud roommate and Harry’s over it.

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

Stupid Love by @the-sinking-ship (E, 17k)

Harry Potter, how does Draco Malfoy hate thee? Let me count the ways.

Heartlines by @sorrybutblog (T, 22k)

Just as Draco Malfoy's life seems to be getting back on track, the magic at Malfoy Manor is spinning out of control. Auror partners Harry Potter and Angelina Johnson are assigned to the case and quickly find that nothing about the situation is obvious. The flare ups are unpredictable at best, downright dangerous at worst, and why has a Hogwarts first year gone missing at the same time?

Little Red Courgette by blamebrampton (T, 31k)

When this season's purple courgettes are woefully thin, Draco Malfoy thinks it amounts to small beans. Next thing he knows, the Department of Standards is over-run with leeks, Brussels sprouts all sorts of legislative difficulties, and somebody appears to have put a roquette under Harry Potter. Can Draco seize a marrow victory? Or will his plans for peas be squashed?

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (E, 36k)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Bite Me, Hate Memes by pir8fancier (E, 44k)

Draco Malfoy is incensed to realize that someone is trying to usurp his position as the premier Harry Potter hater.

Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75k)

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

[namebrandpessimist]

Songs that are so violently Jonathan Sims Archivist coded it makes me physically ill

#1 - You Weren't Meant to See That by The Rare Occasions

"I watched the windows shatter / As if it ever mattered / And for once in my life I see things for what they are / And not through the lens of profit and achievement / It's nothing when you need it / One of those fortune cookie proclamations / That I could never swallow / You weren't meant to see that / All the shit I should hold back / 'Cause it's all in my head and I can see it through your swampy eyes / That I won't always be the only one for you"

#2 - A Complete List of Fears Ages 5-28 (Aprox) by The Yellow Dress

"Here's a complete list of everything I've ever been afraid of / From the age of five to, oh, let's say just the other day / Maybe things I misremember, maybe things I just forgot / But as far as I can figure, this is pretty much the lot"

"Or that my whole life could be sleep / Ferris-wheels and certain blues / Oh, but mainly losing you / These days mainly losing you"

"All we need's four walls to hold us, and a roof to keep us dry / A bed big enough to sleep in as I roll around at night / Keep us sheltered from the darkness, and the things that lurk outside / And this growing sense of distance that keeps building in my mind"

#3 - Pain and Pleasure by Lilli Furfaro

"‘cause he eats life / he eats life / knows the taste of pain and pleasure / knows the bite of love and strife / he’ll drink up all your stories / and he’ll pour some of his own / you decide if you believe him / but you’ll never drink alone"

"come see the empty man with dirt caked on his tongue / come see the empty man, he’s only two years young / he’s got blood that flows with magic / he’s got eyes carved in his skin / we are soon to see his ending / but we don’t know where he begins"

"come see the circus man before he breathes his last / he knows his angel’s missing, knows the danger hasn’t passed / he takes a risk to save her / it’s all borrowed time, he knows / now he stares into the face of death / with eyes that never close"

#4 - Preybirds (Watcher Song) by Rabbitology

"I've watched it happen again and again / Haunted by / A thousand kind beginnings / And a thousand bloodied ends / I shouldn't play with fate / But what if once, I could make you safe?"

"The two red suns in the sky, blink / My pity-filled eyes / Hoping the heartlines will change this time / If you'd just look up I could be your guide / Why can't I catch your eye how you've caught tens of mine / Eye in the sun / You're all I see / Why won't you look at me?"

"I'm the dying fire / In the birthing light / And I'll break every bind / That I'm blighted by / You're blind to all my warning cries / When I speak in dust devils, crop circles, flocks of mayflies / So I've no choice but to come down / Pardon my steps shaking the ground (ha)"

"My breath heaves down your nape / Wrestlin' you 'way, but I'm too late / A body rests / Dagger in chest / The heart in your hands drips / As its soul crawls from splintered ribs / To eclipse my head / And beg again / For revenge"

"The two red suns in the sky will be the light to build your pyre / They're my blank and pitiless eyes / Every death births a bird to this wretched flock / Forever tethered to your life but cursed to only watch / Catastrophe / Repeat until / You look at me"

(I know thats a lot but it's literally like the whole song. I mean its called watcher song idk what you want from me)

#5 - Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA

"I am here to take a look inside myself / Recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm / I am not my body, not my mind or my brain (Ha!) / Not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA / I am the observer, I'm a witness of life / I live in the space between the stars and the sky"

"What's your purpose, why were you put on Earth? / You could be lost but you belong to the world / We're now living in a seminal age / The walls are being broken and we're ready for change"

#6 - Body Terror Song by AJJ

"I'm very sorry that you have to have a body / One that will hurt you / and be the subject of so much of your fear / It will betray you, be used against you / then it'll fail on you my dear / But before that, you'll be a doormat / for every vicious narcissist in the world / Oh how they'll screw you, all up and over / then feed you silence for dessert"

"I'm sorry that you have to have a body / Filled with infection / One hundred scabs singing in unison / Eyes and hands, sometimes bullets, / Uninvited, passing through us"

#7 - Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In! by Will Wood and the Tapeworms

"This is not enough, this is not enough to prove it yet / No, I need to hit the bottom / Gotta get to the bottom of this x3 / Take you with me"

"Take the road on higher ground and tell me / "Don't look down, you'll fall and break your back" / But that just reminds me how / There's more to be found beneath the black"

"Looking up, we see the point of entry / Between where we are and we've been / Looking up, I could say Heaven sent me / Hand me my shovel, I'm going in"

#8 - Like Real People Do by Hozier

"I knew that look dear / Eyes always seeking / Was there in someone / That dug long ago / So I will not ask you / Why you were creeping / In some sad way I already know / I will not ask you where you came from / I will not ask and neither would you / Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips / We should just kiss like real people do"

#9 - Wasteland Baby by Hozier

"All the fear and the fire / Of the end of the world / Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl / Happens great, happens sweet / Happily, I'm unfazed here, too / Wasteland, baby / I'm in love / I'm in love with you"

"And I love too / That love soon might end / Be known in it's aching / Shown in the shaking / Lately of my wasteland, baby"

"And the day that we'll watch the death of the sun / That the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on / Then you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs"

#10 - And the Hound by Yaelokre

"Stuck in the middle of a forest made of / Flesh and bones and they're all scared of / A lost little boy who has lost his heart / Fear's not enough, they have to tear him apart"

"Follow the scent of iron sinking / Deeper into corpses rotting / But they can't hear you talk, talk, talk / About every little thing, every little thing"

He makes me feel so many big emotions istg i listen to these songs and cry sometimes

[luciemggio]

Something like love

Genre: Fluff, romance, actor fan fiction

Warnings: some insecurities, Sebastian being a kind hearted man ( yes it is a warning ;) )

Author’s note: Hi everyone this is my first post so please be kind and respectful, I hope you will like it, don’t hesitate to give me some feedback or suggestions. Requests are open !!!! Thanks!!

Y/N was used to lights. Bright ones. Blinding ones. The kind that followed you from red carpets to supermarket lines, the kind that exposed every inch of your skin and every doubt you tried to bury beneath concealer.

It was supposed to be a dream, starring in a romantic drama opposite Sebastian Stan, sharing scenes with the man who’d once carried Marvel movies like he carried that quiet, aching charisma. They’d met on the set of Heartlines, a sweeping love story that ran parallel to a fictional war, the kind of film the studio hoped would earn critical acclaim and sell posters with foggy silhouettes of almost-kisses.

She wasn’t new to the industry. She’d played a bold, sharp-witted mutant in the latest Marvel phase. But even superheroes aren’t immune to real-world scrutiny. Y/N had soft curves and a height that didn’t lend itself to runway elegance. A hundred gossip accounts online had already labeled her “brave” for not conforming to the Hollywood mold. As if existing in her own body required courage.

Sebastian noticed before anyone said a word. He saw the way Y/N flinched after checking her phone between takes. The way she hunched slightly when standing next to other actresses. The way she made herself smaller.

But what Sebastian saw, when the cameras stopped rolling, was a woman who radiated authenticity. She was quick-witted, observant, and heartbreakingly kind. She made the crew laugh when filming stretched past midnight. She brought cookies she’d baked herself. She made people feel seen.

He’d fallen in love with her before he realized it was happening.

It was late, somewhere past 1AM. The crew had just wrapped for the day, and the rain machine had been shut down after soaking them both for a complicated kiss scene under fake thunder. Y/N sat on the edge of a bench near the trailers, her damp hair braided loosely, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands.

Sebastian found her there. He hesitated for only a second before sitting beside her.

“You okay?” he asked.

She gave a tired smile. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

He waited. The silence stretched comfortably. She finally added, “Sometimes I think people watch me not because they think I’m good, but because they want to see how far I’ll fall out of place.”

Sebastian turned, looking at her directly. “Y/N… I’ve watched a lot of people pretend to be someone else for cameras. But you—” he gestured gently, “—you show up as yourself. That’s rare. And it’s beautiful.”

She blinked. “Beautiful?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “They can’t stop looking at you because you’re not like anyone else. They just don’t have the words for what they’re seeing.”

Y/N laughed, but it caught in her throat. “You’re sweet. But I’m not what people expect.”

“Good,” he said. “Because what they expect is boring. What they get with you… it’s real.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him—like maybe she could believe it if it came from him. He had that kind of face. Honest. Gentle. A little broken around the eyes, but always steady.

He reached for her hand, his fingers warm against hers.

“You’re enough,” he said. “And you’re stunning. And every time I look at you, I’m not acting.”

Her breath caught. “That’s not fair,” she whispered. “You can’t say things like that unless you mean them.”

“I mean them.”

And then he kissed her, softly, slowly, like she was something delicate but fierce. Like she was exactly the woman he’d been waiting for in a world too quick to forget that beauty has nothing to do with perfection.

The next day, the tabloids speculated on the kiss they’d shared between trailers. Photos surfaced of them laughing at lunch, walking too closely, smiling too openly. And for once, Y/N didn’t check the comments.

Because the way Sebastian looked at her when the cameras weren’t watching—when it was just the two of them and the hush between heartbeats—that told her everything she needed to know.

He didn’t love the idea of her.

He loved her. Just as she was.

And maybe, slowly, Y/N could learn to love herself, too.

[sunny-mercya]

Collapsed

Trafalgar Law x Male Reader

Fandom -> One Piece

Requested by -> @bunbunboysworld

Masterlist | Related OS |

It had been two weeks—which equals into 14 days and those were approximately, plus minus, 336 hours—since you had fallen into a coma.

A coma which could've been prevented if your captain wasn't so recklessly careless with your health and—in a sense of way, profusely—ignored your medical needs—at least that's how Laws oh so humble opinion of view about this was.

When you had collapsed, for once and final—in the mere hours of the ultimate last battle, after you stood up once more to fight, against Kaido—Law picked you up and teleported back to the Polar Tang, into the Medical room, hooking you up on the machines and tubes—doing is best to get you stable.

Your heartline had deflated more than once during the first attempts of getting you stable enough—out of the death threatening double zero blood sugar zone—and Law, by any means of being a damned good Doctor, had doubted himself all these hours whenever your heart dropped out of living.

For someone, mused Law to himself in his lonesome thoughts—which he couldn't share with you at the moment, to get your input and opinions about whatever plagues his mind—like Monkey D. Luffy, who declares literally war against everyone and anything, even against humanity itself if needed to be, when whoever dares to hurt his dear friends—he really does like to care little and less about the wellbeing of his own crew mates.

Slumping down onto a chair next to you, Law breathed out a heavily sigh of defeat—his hand moving towards your ashen face, fingers gently tracing over the feverish skin.

»[Name]-ya, would you even agree to leave the Strawhats and come with me instead?« a whispering question, Law knew would never be answered and which he also would never dare to repeat to you again.

But Law wished, longing in a sort of way even, that you would just stay with him instead of Luffy—but knowing your faithfulness of loyalty you have pledged and declared loudly—especially against the whole Marines and Admiral Akinau—during the battle of Marine-Ford to the Strawhat and what history you have with him, Law knew you would never waver and Law himself didn't want to force you to choose between two sides.

~~~

The first thing Law hears, when going to the Strawhats—wanting to ask either Robin or Chopper, if they could bring some of your clothes to him—was how Luffy declared you as almost dead and Law stopped in his tracks—Bepo, Sachi and Penguin crashing into his back and looking slightly confused and concerned at him.

Mentally Law counted till ten and he also tries to recall, when he ever said something along those lines. He certainly didn't.

Law did say, that your health condition is still considered critical and that it takes a while for you to recover—but he definitely never said that you're dying or being dead.

»[Name]-ya isn't dying. Not anytime soon and not when I'm still a Doctor.« comment Law, making his way to Robin, greeting her with a curt nod.

»But Traffy! You said [Nickname] is close to death,«

Law wonders why he still bothers with such a Captain as Rival.

»Yes. When [Name]-ya's blood sugar reaches Zero and if no one's there to keep him stable or gives him the insulin, than he's close to deaths door. I did explained before, didn't I?« Law sighed out, clenched his jaw and trying his best not explode any seconds from the up building anger.

How many times did he told them? More than often. From Punk Hazard all the way to Wano, Law had explained—even in simple folk terms—what sort of medical issue you having, what it caused and how to prevent it mostly—but here they are, once again, having to go such discussion repeatedly again.

»If you had listen, to what I have said at Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, then you wouldn't need to ask again.« Law might have said it a bit harshly, but to the above—he doesn't care at the moment.

Laws tired, honestly exhausted, having slept at all these past weeks—he hadn't a good schedule of sleep to begin with, always being a bit insomniac—hadn't a good cup of coffee either, because he only ever drinks it when your brewing him one—it just taste much better in his opinion—and besides him having to do his duties as a Captain and Doctor—he's in a constant mood of worry over you.

So, please, excuse Law when he's about to be done with whatever nonsense shit Monkey D. Luffy is babbling on about.

»You know Strawhat-ya, if you keep this up, I might just snatch [Nickname]-ya away from you. After all I'm his husband, so he belongs to me and I honestly to god don't give a fucking shit, if this means war between us.«

For once, Law doesn't stop himself to speak unfiltered when tired—feeling rather relieved even to have said such declaration now.

»Ehhhh?! Whatcha mean? Watcha mean with this Traffy?!«

Law ignores Luffy's whining questions and his bouncing around—thanking Robin, ignoring her teasing smile and made his way back to the Polar-Tang.

~~~

When you woken up from your coma, you had been barely awake and neither responsive—you still weren't, even after days, falling back into the clutches of sleep more than often.

Once you were more coherent enough to respond to Laws medical questions and doings, he had deemed you not critical of condition anymore, but still not recovered.

»It's....hot...« you mumble out, moving—albeit still weakly—under the blankets, wanting some coolness onto your skin.

»I'll bring you another frozen washcloth soon.« said Law, turning another page of his book—a book about medical history—sitting next to you on the bed, his bed to be exact—had moved you there, after Law was certain you didn't need the machines to keep your heart and lungs from collapsing.

You suffering through a high fever and an sensitive stomach—couldn't keep any sorts of food in, without vomiting it out right after—was an outcome Law had predicted to come—after all, blood sugar comas were tricky.

Law's glad it's only a high fever you had gotten and not something like internal bleeding or decaying limps—like said before, blood sugar coma are tricky life threatening risky.

»Can I have.....uhm....that one warm drink too? Please?«

»Hot Chocolate?«

»Yes! No, wait, the other warm drink, what I had last night,«

»Tea?«

»Yeah, yeah tea, please.«

»Sure, whatever you wish for, love.«

Marking the page and putting his book away on the nightstand, Law lays himself down—getting more comfortable—to you, arm draping over your blanket covered stomach, while his other hand supports his head.

Such flushed, Law mused to himself with an upcoming impish boy smile—blood flowing red your face is—expression and the slight sweat, suits you really well and if you weren't currently bed ridden and on recovery—Law would have nibbled on your exposed skin already, teasing and edging you till you're close of passing out.

Although Law couldn't enjoy some passionate sex with you, he could cuddle with you as much as he wants now and this sounds by far like a much better deal anyways—after all, you and him are more separated than together, so Law takes every opportunity he gets to have you.

Perhaps, Law doesn't have to declare War against the Strawhat—not as long as you're sick anyways and once recovered and healthy, maybe than Law could persuade you to go with him from now on.

Law had lost his focus on his train of thoughts and all his future plans, when you booped his nose. Raising an eyebrow in amusement, Law glances down at you.

»Law, please, I'm hot and I also wanna have some tea and cuddles.« you pouted a bit, scrunching up your face from the uncomfortable warmth.

»As you wish.« Law leaned down, giving you a kiss on the forehead and moving from the bed.

Law's indeed glad—despite the circumstances of how—to be a Doctor and you're his patient, but he's absolutely overjoyed to have you has his Husband now and forever.

[sitkowski]

your heart is the only place that i call home ( noah sebastian x jolly karlsson )

pairing: noah sebastian x jolly karlsson cw: not much going on here but some soft boys, meddling best friends, seriously a lot of fluff. word count: 947 author's note: i needed some soft stuff in my life right now. this is a sequel to all this and heaven too. title comes from "heartlines" by florence + the machine. divider by @saradika-graphics ✨

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It’s been eleven days since Jolly picked Noah up in a bathroom, cleaned him up and helped him back to the van. A week since Noah came back for that second kiss in some backroom minutes before they were due to go on stage and they didn’t have much time to appreciate it. And after that? After they made it back home, the two of them wrapped up in each other fast asleep in the back of the van, waking up actually feeling rested despite the not so comfortable sleeping conditions?

Nothing.

At least not at first. Not for lack of trying. But they only had six days at home before they were back out on the road, and all Noah really wanted to do was sleep in his own bed for as long as humanly possible, maybe avoid human interaction for at least two of those days. He wakes up on the second day, only to find Nicholas sprawled in his desk chair, phone in one hand and a juice box in the other.

Noah groans and drags his pillow over his head. “No, Nicky.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say,” Nicholas slurps loudly on his straw, just to get Noah to peek out at him in annoyance. “So, you and Jolly, huh?”

It was the most obvious question, and it surprised him that it took him this long to bring it up. Noah gives up on the idea of sleeping longer and finally sits up. “Why’d you send him to find me after that show?”

That probably wasn’t what Nicholas was expecting him to say, given the look that crosses his face moments before he smirks. “So you kissed him as a thank you for that?”

“He kissed me first,” Noah admits, and he sounds defensive to his own ears. “Out in the parking lot that night. He told me once I was feeling better, to come find him—”

“Gotta admit, it took you a little bit longer to catch on than I thought it might. He’s had a crush on you for a long time.”

Noah wonders if everyone knew but him. Maybe he hadn’t been looking hard enough to be able to see it, but he’s looking now. 

His first thought about this isn’t of himself, “The band—”

“Will be fine,” Nicholas’ face softens. “You deserve this, Noah.”

Noah knows better than to argue with him.

It’s safe to say that his mind is consumed after that. But he’s got to wait still, because Jolly was visiting family and wouldn’t be home until two days before they left for the next string of gigs. And if Nicholas happens to make sure that the house is empty except for the two of them the day that he’s due to come back, Noah doesn’t call him out on it. He doesn’t thank him for it either because he’s nervous for some reason. As if he hasn’t been alone with Jolly dozens of times before. As if he didn’t remember what it felt like to kiss him, to listen to the sound of his heart thudding in his chest in the back of the van.

Jolly looks happy to see him when he gets there, and almost relieved to know that it’s just the two of them for a while. Noah wants to give him time to himself to unwind, but he also can’t help but follow him up to his room, stand in the doorway and watch him as he unpacks.

“Are you just going to hold up that door frame for me, or are you going to come in?” Jolly asks finally.

Noah hedges further into the room, before he finally gives up and decides that this is Jolly, there’s nothing to be nervous about. He throws himself down on Jolly’s bed, flops back against his pillows. “So how was your trip?”

“We are not going to do that, Noah.”

“What? No small talk?”

Jolly pushes his suitcase off of the end of the bed and crawls up beside him. Noah would probably back away if it weren’t for the fact he’d fall off the bed. So much for not being nervous. “You and I are beyond that now, don’t you think?”

Noah can’t argue when that. And when Jolly opens up his arms for him, he can’t help but move over and immediately sink against him. He thinks back to that night in the van, how peacefully he slept curled up on Jolly’s chest, how it had become just a space for the two of them even for a little while. And now, he finds himself in the same position, head propped up on Jolly’s shoulder, an arm tossed over his chest. One of Jolly’s hands is threading through Noah’s hair slowly, and he reaches down to trace his fingers over the arch of Noah’s brow until he lifts his head to look at him.

“I don’t think I was looking before, when I should have been,” Noah says, his words holding an apology that probably isn’t needed. “But I see you now.”

Jolly shakes his head, “You’ve always seen me, Noah, the same way I’ve seen you. And take it from someone who’s always been looking.”

Noah pushes himself up and kisses him because he can’t help it, not after that. It’s soft and simple, and it feels like it could be enough. But he can feel it all over, all the way down to his bones. Jolly slowly breaks the kiss, smiling as he does so, and it’s impossible for Noah not to smile back.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, nudging his nose against Jolly’s. “I see you now.”

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses

@thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens

@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[ollypopwrites]

Six Song Soundtrack

tagged by @aldisobey (who i adore)

I also have a playlist for Vanya but I am always gonna have more music about my blorbos to share lol.

event that defines your characters past:

cherry wine — hozier (youtube | spotify)

I talk a lot about how being abandoned, growing up in the mourn watch and then being sent away shaped Vanya, so for this one I thought I’d include a song about her first love Daphne. (I could go on about these two and almost had Daphne make an appearance in the fic i’m writing about vanya but alas. the fic is already very long.)

how she views herself:

metamorphosis— infinity song (youtube | spotify)

I think this song lyrically just sort of sums up Vanya’s journey to seeing what Varric saw in her. The first half of the song is exactly how she’s always felt, but that last bit when she looks back is kind of an epiphany.

how others view them:

Bridge Over Troubled Water - Jacob Collier, John Legend, Tori Kelly (youtube | spotify)

The original is also a good one, but I thought the vibes of this cover fit better. I think the team sees Rook ready to lay herself down for them, Vanya in particular has a way of reaching out her hand and being there whether they like it or not. She is their bridge to each other and to healing.

Their Closest Relationship:

First Light - Hozier (youtube | spotify)

I think besides Emmrich, Davrin and Lucanis are her closest friends but I couldn’t come up with a suitable song to encapsulate those friendships. So I went for Emmrich, there’s layers to all of Hozier’s music but this album took inspiration from Dante’s Inferno this one particularly references leaving hell and I think for these two find a lot of hope in each other despite the circumstances.

A Major Fight Scene:

Hope in a Bleak World - Elephant Music (youtube | spotify)

The violin in this is just how I imagine Vanya’s brain is moving through plans, back up plans, back ups to the back up plans and when everything goes to hell she just keep going. The rhythm behind it is the urgency, the panic, but she never quits.

Ending Credits:

Heartlines - Florence and the Machine (youtube | spotify)

When I’ve seen her play this live, she’s mentioned that a good chunk of it is about family and finding your way back to loved ones. I think if I could sum up Vanya’s journey from the War of Banners to the final battle, this would be it. She’s speaking to herself, to her family team. And it’s witchy. Vanya is v witchy lol.

tagging @silshinobii @curiouswisp @razildor @bankabb

[lonely-ey3s]

Ride or Die | Chapter One

pairing: rodeo/cowboy!joel miller x f!reader

chapter summary : Going to your county's fair after coming back to your hometown goes a lot better than it has in past years. It usually earns you a goldfish. This year, it earns you a date with a local cowboy, Joel Miller.

chapter warnings: fluff, slow burn-ish, angst, Joel speaks Spanish (translations will be there), reader has a somewhat emotionally abusive father, mentions of grabbing, mentions of a parent being drunk, mention of parental death, switched POV's.

word count: 8.1k

a/n: alright, here it is! chapters will be every other sunday-- alternating with heartlines !! just fyi, i know little about being a cowboy so if lingo is wrong, please let me know, i'm going off purely google.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

Masterlist

Coming back home to Texas was not on your bingo card for this summer.

However, when you caught your ex-fiance cheating on you with your best friend-- packing your bags and taking the first plane back was the only logical thing to do.

You got home about two weeks ago. Your older sister and little brother were more than excited to have you back. Especially your little brother, Wesley.

He had just turned 18, and the two of you have always been as thick as thieves. A lot of the closeness is due to your mom dying while giving birth to him and your dad pretty much shutting down.

However, you stepped in, pretty much raising him.

You and your older sister, Everly, were close as well– as close as sisters could be. She was 5 years older than you, married to her high school sweetheart, and had a little boy who everyone called ‘Bubba’.

She lived just a few miles from your family’s property, but she and Bubba usually made it over to your dad’s daily to help around the house and hang out. 

This past week, Wes has been training for this year’s county fair rodeo show that was happening next week.

You had done the morning chores, which included feeding the chickens and ducks and cleaning out the donkey pen and the stables. You finished with making sure your horse's stable was stacked full of what he needed.

After you were finished, you walked over to the training pen and saw Wes and Trigger running around barrels, getting everything refined for the big event he was competing for. 

“You’ve got to pull back on him on that third barrel, Wes!” your dad shouted, sitting on the edge of the fence, with his arms crossed across his chest, observing. 

“Got it…” Wes mumbled, patting Trigger's side before softly saying to the dark black horse, “Let’s try one more time bud…” 

You climbed up on the fence and leaned against it, “That horse knows how to cut quick. Why are we runnin’ him days before the event?” you said, nodding at your dad and toward your brother. 

“Because it’s not the horse that’s goin’ win the medal, it’s Wes, and if can’t control the damn thing, he shouldn’t compete.” your dad clipped back at you. 

Your dad wasn’t always the warmest to any of you, but more so Wes. Part of you thinks that deep down, he might have blamed him for your mom's death. He was hard on and pushed him, but something always seemed insensitive. It seemed more callous than when he did it to you and Everly. 

“If you push the horse too hard, he’ll hurt himself, effectively hurting Wes in the process…” you tsked and got down from the fence. “Gotta think about that component too, Dad…” You turned around and started walking away.

There was a pause, and then your dad turned his head to look at you.

“Chores done?” your dad bit out, closing the other conversation. 

“We wouldn’t be over here if they weren’t,” you shot back before walking back towards the house. 

You cleaned up for the day and got ready to work in a coffee shop in town.

The goal was to escape the inevitable argument your dad would start with you when he came inside about what happened earlier. 

You left the house before they got in and drove to the shop downtown. It was a newer shop, wasn't here when you left a few years ago.

You order a drink and something small to eat and then set up at a table in the back, near an outlet. 

You grew up in this town, so mostly anyone and their dog knew you. Since coming home all of a sudden, working in a public place was brave but also downright stupid. Everyone and their moms want to know why. What happened? Why isn't Riley with you? Why aren't you wearing your ring?  

You put on your headphones and set your music to shuffle as you start working on a project you must complete for one of your clients in the next couple of days. You knew that in the coming week, things would get busier with the rodeo and fair prep happening. Knowing your dad and how he'd delegate work to you, you just knew your personal time would be limited.

Back in Nashville, you worked as a social media manager for a small boutique and a local up-and-coming musician. Both were highly supportive of your decision to move back to Texas and made things work with you remotely, for which you couldn’t be more grateful for their flexibility. 

You were just about to wrap up one of the posts to send off for approval when you felt your phone buzz on the table. It was Riley,

Can we please talk? I know you said you needed time, but it’s been two weeks– we’ll need to talk this out eventually. 

You scoffed and shook your head, closing your phone screen and muttering, “Talk it out? There’s nothing to talk out, you cheated on me with my best friend of 15 years, you dumbass.” 

You sent off the post for review and then took out your headphones, standing up for another cup of coffee.

You walked to the counter and asked for another latte. The barista said they’d bring it over to you. You smiled and thanked her, but then, when you went to turn around, you bumped into someone behind you. 

“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, pardon me…” You quickly apologized, flustered that you weren’t watching where you were going. 

“No harm, darlin’...” You saw a brown-eyed man smiling down at you, his large, strong hands on your arms, holding you steady from when you bumped into each other. 

You swallowed before nodding and kindly smiling. “Thanks…” His hands let you go just as gently as they held onto you, before you nodded to where you were sitting. “I uh… excuse me,” you said before returning to your table. 

You sat back down and didn’t realize how flustered you were until you saw in the reflection of the computer screen how red your cheeks were. 

You let out a long and slow breath before tapping a few buttons to wake your screen again, refocusing yourself on your work. 

You didn’t see that the man you had bumped into had his eyes still on you from the front.

He was watching you, his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot lightly as he began to think about how he could approach you without seeming too eager. 

He was waiting for his coffee when the barista went to leave the front counter with your coffee in hand.

He cleared his throat and smiled brightly, “Here, why don’t you let me Susie– looks like ya’ll are busier than a hive fulla bees…” He winked and outstretched his hands. 

She nodded and smiled at his gesture to help: “Thanks, Joel. You’re a peach…” She handed him the coffee in a to-go cup with your name and order written on it. 

He smiled and walked over to your table, softly clearing his throat before he set it down next to your laptop, “One cinnamon caramel latte with brown sugar sprinkles…” then chuckled after realizing your what your order was, “Damn darlin’, want some coffee with your sugar?” he lightly teased. 

You looked up, feeling eyes on you, and took out your headphones, light music coming from them. “I’m sorry?” You then saw him in front of you and then the coffee and furrowed your brow. “Oh jeez, I’m so sorry. Did they call my name and I didn’t hear?” You looked past him at the counter, worried you misunderstood them say they’d bring it to you. 

He smiled warmly, “No, I uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you… I just…” he chuckled as he nervously rubbed his fingers through his scruff, “Damn, uh… I’m sorry, I’m usually not like this…” he shyly looked down for a moment, biting his lip before looking back at you, “I just wanted to come apologize for earlier… I uhm, I was a little too eager to get my drink and I shoulda let you leave the damn line before rushin’ into you like that.” 

You smiled softly and waved your hand, dismissing his apology. “I’m sure I had a clumsy factor in the equation, trust me.” You lightly chuckled. “How about we just assume 50/50 responsibility and not get the insurance involved for the fender bender…” you lightly joked. 

He chuckled and nodded, “I’m Joel…” he held out his hand. 

You recognized him from somewhere. However, you couldn't place where. So you nodded and said your name softly, and then your phone buzzed. It was one of your clients. “Oh, um, I’m sorry—I need to take this. Thanks for the coffee. It’s been lovely meeting you, Joel.” You picked up your phone and smiled softly before answering it. 

Joel nodded and slowly backed away, saying your name repeatedly in his head, trying to remember if he knew you, as you looked somewhat familiar as well. He smiled to himself and tucked his hands back into his jeans before grabbing his coffee from the front and leaving the shop. 

1 week later 

Reader’s POV

It was the first of 4 days of the fair. 

You sat in the bleachers with your sister, her husband and son, as well a friend, Tripp. Your brother and dad were getting everything together below in the arena and stables. 

You were dressed in your best. From the best cowgirl hat you've ever owned to your boots. You wore tight jeans and a floral tank that showed just a sliver of your stomach and gave you some cleavage, wanting to get a tan but also mess with some cowboys. 

“Look at that one, he’s a pretty one!” Everly joked, pointing out a cowboy below. He was good-looking, but you could smell his toxic masculinity from where you were. He was winking at every girl that swooned past him and was chewin' tobacco, which was an instant red flag for you.

You chuckled and shook your head, taking a small swig of your water. “Mmm, no, he screams ‘walking red flag’...” You continued to look around. 

Tripp smirked and pointed to another young man, standing by his horse and tightening his saddle, “What about him?” 

You smiled. “He seems kind, but he’s not my type... he's got a baby face,” You nudged him with your elbow. “Plus, I’m not lookin’ for anything serious right now. I’m still trying to figure out the whole Riley thing…” you sighed. 

“Figure what out? What is there to figure out? You're done with him! Right?” he nudged you back, clearly annoyed you were still ‘thinking things over’. 

You tsked and fiddled with the top of your water bottle. “It’s not like that… I just… am not in a place to be in a relationship when half of my things are still back at our place.” You shrugged. “That wouldn’t be fair.” 

“To who? You or Riley?” he challenged. 

You looked at him and bit the inside of your cheek. “Tripp, " you said, raising your eyebrow.

“What?” he looked at your sister. “Ev, tell her… it’s okay to move on.” 

Your sister nodded. “He’s right. Riley didn’t hesitate. Why should you?” she shrugged, “But also, what’s wrong with just havin’ a bit of fun, no strings attached?” she giggled, nudging you with her elbow. 

You nodded and chuckled, “Fine, fine… no strings.” You looked back down and hummed, taking in the cowboys below. 

A few moments later, your dad came running up to the arena’s border, shouting your name, “Get in here! We need you and Buck. Randy’s son's damn horse got spooked and is running amuck!”

Buck was the arena's neutralizer horse. You and he had always helped when things like this happened, as the other horses couldn't risk getting hurt. 

You quickly got up from your seat and ran down the bleachers before jumping over the fence, your dad and you running towards the chaos.

Joel’s POV

Joel had been up since before the birds started to chirp. 

He started his morning by doing all the chores with his dad before they loaded up the trailer and headed to the fairgrounds around 6 a.m.

Joel had a few events he was in today and was eager to get back on the saddle after taking a few weeks off. He had taken time to rest after getting back from the national championship in Dallas. 

He and his horse Moonshine were in the stables around 9 am as they needed to be out to the arena by half past.

The two of them having a quiet moment together to prepare for the busy buzz about to happen for the rest of the day.

He tightened his saddle, ensuring everything was secure, when his dad came in, “How are we lookin’?” 

Joel nodded towards the dusty white horse that was built of pure muscle. He was his pride and joy. He’d spent the last 10 years breeding, training, and competing with horses for his dad. So when his dad told him that Moonshine was all his 2 years ago, Joel poured every minute he wasn’t working into this horse. 

“He’s almost saddled up. I just need to make sure his hooves are clear, then we’ll be good.” 

Santiago, or Santi as most called him, huffed and came around the back of Moonshine. “He’s got competition today. Ricky’s son is competing today; that horse is a beast,” he said, patting the backside of Moonshine’s rear. 

Joel tsked and smiled. “You can have a beast of a horse, but unless the rider knows what he’s doin’ – it won’t do jack.” he looked at his dad as he lifted the first of Moonshine’s hooves to inspect. “Ricky’s boy is a little short upstairs and will get hurt before he wins anything on a horse like that.” he put the first hoof down and moved to another. 

Santi just hummed and took a small breath in. “If you say so…” he clicked his tongue and turned around. "I’ll wait for you by the gate to the arena. Take your time and make sure everything is good, yes?” He began to stroll away. 

Joel nodded, “Yes, sir.” 

—

It didn’t take Joel more than 10 minutes to finish inspecting and preparing Moonshine.

The two of them walked casually out of the barn area. Joel kept his shoulders back and head held high; he exuded confidence as he walked from the barn to the main arena. He proudly wore his national championship belt buckle, which he used to intimidate fellow competitors.

He used a lead to guide Moonshine out towards the arena, which was now filled with guests loudly cheering on another event happening. 

He wore the complete competition outfit, including his cowboy hat, black button-down shirt, jeans, and chaps. His vest had patches from his sponsors on both the front and back.  

His dad was talking to Randy at the gate, a neighbor who had invested in Joel’s bareback and bull riding career. 

Joel tipped his hat as he approached, “Good to see you, Randy. How’ve you been?” he smiled and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him into a hug. 

Randy chuckled, “Good to see you, Joel! I’ve been better—bad knee!” He tsked before pulling back and looking over at Moonshine. “He’s a beaut, Joel. I'm excited to see him in action today.” He smiled and touched the horse's neck gently. 

Joel turned and touched the other side of the horse's neck. “He’s been a fun one. I’m also excited for us to be back in the arena.” he looked back at the gate and nodded for the gatekeeper to open it. 

Before they opened the gate, a loud commotion and frenzy ensued. Moonshine reared up slightly and chuffed in fear at a loud noise. 

“Shh, shh, steady boy… steady,” he cooed to him, pulling on the brindle to calm and refocus him. 

He turned to see what was happening and handed the lead to his dad.

He was walking up to the gate when the crazed riderless horse ran past. Not long after, another horse and rider buzzed by, trying to herd the crazed horse.

You swung a lasso and shouted at the horse, “Hey, hey!” before throwing it and landing it around its neck. 

The second Joel saw who it was, it was like you were moving in slow motion to him.

You maneuvered your horse to pull back and redirect. The horse in question was headed straight for a group of people so you snapped back and pulled him away.

You hollered, “Woah there boy-o!” 

You wrapped the rope around the horn of your saddle and then clicked your tongue and pulled the reigns to the left. “Here… let's go over here…” You tugged on the rope, trying to get the horse to follow you. 

Your dad was watching from a distance. “Take ‘em to the barn!” he yelled at you. 

You nodded and looked down at your horse. “Alright, Buck, let’s get his poor kid to the barn…” You patted his side affectionately and pulled up on the reins a little. Buck circled around and then headed towards the gate.

You looked back at the horse you were dragging along and smiled, “Let’s go, come on, pretty boy…” You coaxed the horse to follow you. 

It settled and huffed a few times before walking close behind you and Buck. “There we go, that’s a good boy,” you said softly. 

The gate opened, and you faced forward, tipping your hat at Scott, the gatekeeper. “Thanks, Scotty!” you smiled and winked then clicked your tongue and looked ahead of you. “Come on sweetheart…”

You saw Joel not connecting the dots of who it was with the get-up he was wearing.

His jaw is partially ajar, and his eyes are watching you as you moved.

It was like he’d seen God herself. 

You chuckled and looked at Randy, whom you knew, he and your dad were good friends.

“Got yourself a trout rather than a cowboy there, Rand… " You nodded towards Joel, teasing. 

Randy chuckled and then looked at Joel. “Good god, son, close your mouth before you catch a fly.” He swatted Joel's arm.

You giggled, clicking your tongue to get Buck to move faster, as you headed toward the barn. 

Joel snapped out of his daze and looked at Randy and his dad, who were grinning at his reaction.

His dad shook his head, chuckling, “Just keep it in your pants until after the competition-- please and thank you.” he walked past Joel to get into the gate, tugging Moonshine with him, “Come on mijo, you’re up soon.” 

Joel looked back at the barn and smiled, then looked at Randy who was still standing there with a shit eating grin, “You heard your dad, get goin’. She’ll be around all week...” he winked.

Joel competed, and on his way out, he saw you sitting down next to your sister and Tripp.

He saw you lean over and hold onto Tripp's arm, softly laughing at something.

A flame of jealousy burned up his neck. He fixated on you from the back of the arena, watching you interact with those around you, and figured that Tripp was either a friend or, worst case, a very early boyfriend. Either way, easy competition. 

He also noticed that when a specific rider came out, you all went crazy, shouting and cheering loudly. He wondered who that might be and why he was so important. 

Randy came up from behind and stood beside him. He followed his eyeline and lightly chuckled, “Since when are you not already over there markin’ your territory?” he joked. 

Joel turned his head and chuckled lightly. “Mark my territory? What am I, a dog?”

Randy chuckled a little louder and then hummed, watching the barrel racer, your brother competing. “That’s her brother, Wes. Incase you’re wonderin’...” 

Joel hummed and then realized how he knew your family. “She’s Judd’s daughter?” 

“Middle kiddo. She’s the one who pretty much raised Wes after their mom died.” Randy said sadly, looking back towards you. 

“I went to school with her. I remember when her mom died. How did I not recognize her the other day?" He slid his thumb over his bottom lip as he started to think about your interaction. 

“She’s been in Nashville since she graduated. She and that boy she dated in high school moved up there when he got some fancy job,” he gossiped. “You probably didn’t recognize her; she looks a bit different than she did in high school.” Randy remarked. 

Joel ran through his mind, thinking of who you were with in high school, then turned his head, “Riley! That's his name… what happened to him?” he raised his eyebrow.

Randy tsked, “The fucker cheated on her with Amanda." he sighed and tapped his thumb against the railing, "She found out, packed a bag and came back home.” he said sadly then turned to Joel.

Joel’s eyebrow raised, “Amanda, as in her best friend since they were like in elementary school, Amanda?” he asked, blown away. 

Randy hummed as he nodded. “Bingo.” 

Joel scoffed and looked back at you, “So she just had the ultimate fuck over…” 

Randy nodded. “Betrayed by her best friend and fiancé... it doesn’t get any worse than that.”

Joel turned to look at Randy again, and his face showed complete disappointment. “She was engaged? And he cheated on her?”  

Randy bit his lip for a moment, not wanting to divulge too much but he figured Joel should know, “From what I know, the wedding was supposed to be at the end of this summer, but not anymore. At least that’s what I’ve heard.” he kicked his foot into the ground, making some dirt dust up. 

Joel hummed and looked at you, his features softened thinking what you'd been through the last few weeks. No one should go through that.

You stood up and waved goodbye to the group you were with, then put your phone to your ear as you headed up the steps of the arena. 

“‘Cuse me, Rand… I’m going to go try to catch up with her. Apologize for earlier.” He said before hopping the gate and jogging towards you.

You were fast and beat him to the top.

He tried to keep up, but when he got up to the top, the crowd of people and busy traffic of the fair going on around the arena was too much; he’d lost you. “Damn it.” he tsked and dug his boot into the dirt frustrated.

After watching Wes’s event, you felt your phone buzz on the bleacher beside you. You picked it up to see Riley’s name displayed across your screen. Tripp looked over your shoulder and then raised his eyebrow at you. “You need to take that…” he suggested. 

You sighed and nodded. Putting this off was only dragging the dead cat out for longer. You stood and quickly said goodbye, then slid to answer, “Hello?” 

“Hey…” he sounded sad and quiet. 

“What do you want?” you said as you started to jog up the arena steps. 

“I—I… god,” he sighed. "Where are you? It’s so loud!” He sounded annoyed. 

“That’s none of your business anymore, Riley. I asked you what you wanted, so please get to the point, or I’ll end the call,” you said coldly, looking around before gathering where you were and heading towards your car. 

There was a pause, then he sighed heavily. “I just —baby, I miss you. When are you coming home?” he pleaded, his voice soft, almost begging. 

You let out a numb chuckle. “Riley, there’s no us. You fucked that over the moment you put your cock between Amanda’s legs.” You bit out.  

There was another pause. “She’s no longer an issue; I ended it with her. I realized how much I wanna fight for us, for you.” 

You chuckled a little louder then shook your head; this was nonsense. He was nonsense.

“What don’t you understand? I don’t want to fight for us. I don’t want to be with you anymore!" you walked up to your car, "You cheated on me with my best friend for most of our fucking relationship. And then now that I know about it and did the logical thing and left you– now you cut things off with her?” you opened your car door and got inside, slamming it shut, “Riley you’re one stupid son of a bitch if you thought that I was coming back.” you started up your car. 

“Why can’t we start over? Come back home, and we’ll go to counseling or get help, please. Give me a chance,” he pleaded. 

You let him stew in silence before you spoke firmly, “You don’t get another chance. Your chance went out the fucking window when I asked you who was texting you and you lied to my face saying it was a co-worker.” you sat for a moment before lowering your voice, tears forming, “You went the lengths Riley… the lengths… to change the name of her contact to a ‘co-workers’ name so that I wouldn’t get suspicious.” you scoffed, a few tears falling down your cheeks, “That’s some psycho shit. That’s premeditated fuckin’ cheating bullshit.” you shook your head and chuckled a few times, wiping the tears, “God, you know, Amanda probably got her head out of her ass and left you -- and now you’re crawling back to me because when I left, you didn’t even flinch. You let me go.” you took in a shaky breath. 

“I’m here. I’m here now,” he said after a few moments of silence. He knew you were crying. 

Something in the way he said that severed whatever you had holding onto him. You had the clarity you needed; it was time to move on. You deserved more than this, more than he gave you for all those years.  

“That’s not enough.” You let out the breath. “We’re done, Riley. I’ll have movers come and collect the rest of my belongings, your mom's ring will be returned to you, and I’ve already taken care of our financial matters. Don’t ever contact me again.” You hung up the phone and immediately blocked him before throwing your phone in the passenger seat out of anger. 

You hit the steering wheel, your anger boiling over, “God damn it!” then you began to sob softly, not out of sadness, but out of finally feeling free. 

The next day

Joel was walking down the arena steps after running to his truck quickly to grab the correct bit that he had forgotten before his event started. His mind was elsewhere, so he didn't even notice you as he walked past.

Everly saw him and nudged you. “What about him?” she nodded towards him as he walked down the steps and hopped over the fence into the arena. 

You watched, humming softly, then noticed who he was when he turned his head and smiled at someone in the arena.

“Well I’ll be damned…” you chuckled, eyes following him as he walked into the back. 

“What?” Everly looked at you like she was on the edge of her seat. “What?!” she exclaimed. 

You chuckled louder and nodded his way. “I ran into him at the coffee shop about a week ago, and then he was the cowboy that I told you about yesterday-- the trout,” you giggled. 

She gasped, “You’re kidding me, that’s the trout?! That's Joel Miller!” She hit your arm, giggling with you. 

You nodded and kept your eyes towards him. 

She looked that way as well, then looked at you, seeing you slightly blush. “You’re interested in him, aren’t you?” she giggled, a shit eating grin across her face. 

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t say ‘interested’...” You blew off her accusation, trying to act calm and collected, but inside, you could feel your heart pound, and a small amount of heat rose to your cheeks the more you watched him move. 

He was getting Moonshine’s bit adjusted, paying no mind to his surroundings. 

You noted that he looked good handling a horse. He was in complete control. His hands gliding over the equipment confidently. There was something about watching a man with a horse that always appeased you, making you feral. 

Riley didn’t come from the ranch life. His family was wealthy and privileged. They were full of snobby, rich aristocrats who didn’t care for anyone but themselves. Being with him and having that difference in family dynamics created rifts in your relationship. His family tended to look down on you. Behind your back, they referred to you as the ‘dirty ranch girl’. He never stood up for you either.  

Joel hopped onto Moonshine and clicked his tongue, guiding him to where they needed to be. He took his hat off with one hand and pushed his hair back with the other before putting it back onto his head. He looked up to the crowd and noticed you already looking at him. 

You were in a floral sundress, your boots, and to top it off, your cowboy hat on your head. You looked insatiable. He adjusted his hips as he felt a stir below the belt before making direct eye contact with you. “Who’s fishin’ for a trout now, sweetheart?” he mumbled to himself. 

He caught your eye with his and grinned, tipping his hat to you and giving you a slight wink. 

You immediately looked away shyly and couldn’t help the smile that grew across your face, softly chuckling to yourself. 

He chuckled and looked up at the board, seeing how much time he had before he and Moonshine would compete.

5 minutes.

He looked back to you, and you were giggling with the guy next to you, the same guy you were sitting with yesterday. 

Jealousy filled him again, a heat grew up his neck and his lips tightened.

He cocked his head and whispered, "Fuck it." then decided he had enough time to make his way over to you. 

He swung his leg over and off Moonshine, then tied the lead to the fence. “Stay right here… I’ll be right back.” he muttered to the horse.

He jumped over the gate and then started to stroll over to your group. 

Tripp saw and whispered, teasing, “Trout incoming…” then he realized he was actually heading over, “Oh fuck! He’s looking right at you babe! He’s coming over….” he nudged you to catch your attention. 

You hummed curiously and turned to look, the blush on your cheeks betraying you when you found him again. 

When you two made eye contact, he tipped his hat again and smiled at you.

‘Damn it. He’s going to be trouble.’ You instantly thought as butterflies erupted intensely in your core. 

You swallowed nervously and began frantically fixing your dress, clearing your throat. Then, you stood and came down to the fence at the bottom of the bleachers, smiling at him on the other side. “Hey, cowboy…” 

He approached the other side and grinned at the nickname, “How are you doin’ darlin’?” 

You blushed and tilted your head, “I’m doin’ better now that you’re here sayin’ hello.” you flirted, leaning up against the railing. 

He chuckled and ran his thumb against his bottom lip. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out here today?” 

You watched him touch his lip and bit the inside of your cheek to stop you from smiling too much. “I have a brother competing in barrel racin’...” You looked down at his belt and smirked. “Take it you’re competing too?” Your eyes trailed up his body, slowly landing back to his eyes. 

He felt himself harden the way you were drinking him in, the way your eyes landed on his belt. 

He smirked and tilted his head back at you. “I am. I’m out bare buckin’ today and then bull buckin’ tomorrow.” 

You nodded and hummed, “You’ve got some competition in bare buckin’.” You nodded to the arena. “Rob Turner is competing. He's got a beast of a horse I've heard...” You looked over at that rider and his horse. 

Joel looked back at Rob and chuckled, shrugging, “Eh, he’ll be easy to beat,” he said confidently. 

You raised your eyebrow slightly and looked back at him. “Oh really? You think you’re good enough to beat him then, cowboy?” 

He smirked, “Oh, am I no longer called ‘trout’, then?” he teased.

You turned red for a moment then cleared your throat, “Well today you didn’t look at me with your jaw open so wide that you could be catchin’ flies, so no.” you challenged, cocking your head and looking up at him confidently. 

He raised his eyebrow at your playfulness then grinned and leaned forward on the rail that you had your arms folded against. His hands to his arms were straight to hold up his weight. “Well, apologies for the lack of manners yesterday, darlin’. I was stunned by your beauty, and in that moment, my jaw fell open…” he looked at you with a broad and warm smile. 

You hummed, smiling back at him, “Well, I can’t say I haven’t been doin’ the same to you today. I guess we’re even?” 

He tsked, “Oh really? You’ve been swoonin’ over me, huh?” he leaned a little in, “In that case, what can a cowboy do to take you out to dinner then?” he winked at you. 

You leaned in to him and looked down at his lips, biting your bottom lip before you backed up a step and shrugged, “What can I say? I find cowboys attractive.”

He was speechless. He swallowed and chuckled shyly, not knowing what to say.

You saw the effect you had at him and loved it. You relished in your ability to make a man squirm.

You tipped your hat and smirked, “But I find champion-winning cowboys date-worthy…” You took another step back and looked at his belt. “Win that championship today, then you can ask me out to dinner.” You looked back up at him and smiled, blushing as you felt a sense of confidence with him, a feeling of safety.  

He grinned as he looked at you. “I win. I get to take you out?” 

You nodded. “Think you can do that or is that too hard for you to achieve, trout?” you jabbed playfully. 

He liked this side of you. He didn't know you like this in high school. You were the quiet and shy girl, this girl, she was much more confident and he found it very attractive.

He smirked and bit his lip, offering his hand. “Deal.” 

You walked back up to him and took his hand. “Deal.” 

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, keeping eye contact with you. 

You blushed and smiled softly, before shyly looking down for a moment before looking back up. “If you win, I’ll be up there with my family and friends…” You gently pull your hand away and cutely put both hands behind your back. 

He nodded to Tripp, “That ain’t your date?” he chuckled. 

You looked to where he was nodding and let out a chuckle. “What if it is?” You looked back at him, grinning. “Give you some competition…” You winked, then turned and started heading up the stairs. “Good luck out there, cowboy…”

He chuckled and pushed off the railing, “Ain’t gon’ need it darlin’! I’ve got a date on Friday night for you and me in the bag!” he shouted as you went up the stairs. 

You giggled and went back to sit with Ev and Tripp. They both were grinning and began nudging you as you all watched him return to his horse. 

After catching the two of them up on your conversation with Joel, you sat back and watched as he and Moonshine entered the pen where they were in before being released.

He found you again and smiled, nodding his head at you before looking down and tying his hand where it needed to go to prepare for the bucking.

While this happened, the announcer shouted throughout the arena, “Alright, alright! Our next competitor is this year's National Champion! He just returned home from travelin’ upstate for nationals… please help me give a huge warm welcome to our hometown champ– Joel Miller!” 

The crowd went wild and you instantly turned red, “Oh fuck me…” 

Tripp leaned over and muttered, “Oh, I fear he will be now…” 

You swatted his arm and gasped, “Tripp!” 

He chuckled and looked at Everly. “Am I wrong?!” he shouted over the crowd, grinning. 

Everly looked at you and shook her head, giggling, “Girl, looks like you’ve got a date this weekend.” 

You looked out towards the arena and couldn’t help but smile, chuckling, “I guess I do…” 

—

As expected, Joel placed first in the bare-bucking competition, out-running the competition by a landslide. 

Watching him compete and win was exhilarating to watch. He was meant to be on a horse. He was also meant to be a cowboy, the way he looked in that damn hat should be a sin.

As the arena started to clear, Joel came walking over after putting Moonshine back in the barn, smiling widely, presenting the new belt buckle he now had on himself.

Everly and Tripp chuckled, seeing him beam, and stood up. Tripp touched your shoulder and said, “We’ll be at the top when you’re done.”

They smiled politely and nodded at Joel before they made their way up the steps. 

Joel smiled warmly and tipped his hat to them before looking up at you as he stood with his leg placed on the bleacher below you, leaning on his knee, “So, sweetheart, what time should I pick you up Friday evenin’?” he looked up at you with soft brown eyes. 

You leaned your elbows on your knees and raised your eyebrow. “Not so fast. You didn’t say you were the national champion!” You tilted your head. “You knew you’d win today…” You grinned. “Now, I think that’s a little bit of an unfair advantage you had there, cowboy.” 

He chuckled and reached up to gently mess with the hem of your dress, looking down, “Maybe I was keepin’ that little fact to m’self…” he looked back up, “That way I knew there would be a guarantee of takin’ you out…” 

You blushed and pursed your lips together, looking away for a second with a smile so wide your cheeks hurt. 

He watched you glow in front of him with the smile you had on your face. He felt his heart pounding against his chest. He’d been on bulls' backs, in bar fights, tamed wild horses, and in some of the most dangerous adrenaline high situations– but nothing made his heart beat this fast and strong like being around you. 

You looked back at him and bit the inside of your cheek, smiling still. “Pick me up at 7.” You stood up and looked down at him, holding out your hand. “Give me your phone…” 

He chuckled and stood straight, looking at you. “Pardon?” 

You giggled, “Do you want my number or not?” 

“Oh.” he smiled and pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and holding it up to you, “Yes, please…” 

You gently took it and put your number in, playfully looking at him every few seconds, blushing. 

He smirked and swiped his finger across his bottom lip, his eyes momentarily looking at your body from top to bottom. "By the way, I like this dress on you. You look beautiful.” 

You smiled at him and handed his phone back to him. “Text me later, I’ll send you my address and a photo for my profile pic…” you winked. 

He took his phone but damn near dropped it with your last comment. His cheeks now turned a shade of pink, and he chuckled nervously. “I’ll text ya when I get home…” he looked down at his phone with your contact info on it, shyly. 

You giggled at his reaction and nodded, “Good.” You then gathered your things and started to head up the stairs. “Congrats, by the way—on the national title,” you smiled. 

He looked up and smiled warmly, “Thank you darlin’.” 

You nodded and went up a few more stairs before turning back and shyly saying, “I would have gone out with you win or lose, you know?” You grinned and tilted your head cutely. “However, I’m glad to know I’ll be goin’ out with a county and national champion now…” You winked and then turned to continue up the stairs. 

He chuckled and looked up at you. “You get to go out with a champ, and I get to go out with the prettiest girl in the world— I call that a win-win...”

You blushed and kept walking, shouting behind you, “Stop bein’ a flirt and go home so you can text me, cowboy!” You smiled to yourself, reaching the top. 

He tipped his hat and chuckled, “Say less, darlin’...” Then he smiled as he hurried down the steps and jogged back to the barn to pack everything up as quickly as possible. 

When you got home, you headed to your room to change into something more comfortable. Your legs felt filthy, as a layer of sunscreen and dirt from the fairgrounds covered them.

You start the shower and play soft music when you hear a ding from your phone. 

You walked over and picked it up, seeing an unknown number had texted you, 

‘Hey sweetheart, it’s Trout. 🎣’ 

You chuckled and realized it was Joel. You saved his number and typed back, 

‘Hey there, cowboy. Get home safely?’ 

Almost instantly, a message appeared, 

‘Safely and as quick as I could– what are you up to?’ 

You were stripped naked as you were about to shower. You typed back, 

‘Just about to hop in the shower…’ 

You grinned, then put your cowgirl hat back on. 

You then stood so that your silhouette shone against the wall from the setting sun. You held up your phone and snapped a photo. It perfectly sent a clear message but kept him on his toes. 

You then sent the photo with the text, 

‘Here’s that profile pic I promised you. 💗 Send one back?’ 

A few moments later, you heard your phone ding again, 

‘Forgive me sweetheart– but damn! 😍’

You giggled and typed, 

‘Come on! Send one of you, handsome! One with your hat! ;)’

‘...’ was displayed for a few minutes before a picture of him in the mirror with his cowboy hat on and black button-up partially undone by the collar, smiling with his dimples, came up on your screen.

‘I’ll send you a better one after my shower, how ‘bout that?’ 

You chuckled and set it to his profile picture before typing back, 

‘Deal. Let’s both get today's grime off, and then we can send updated photos? 💗’

‘Deal. I’ll text you when I’m done, but take your time. I’ll be here, cariño.’ (Darling)

You blushed and set your phone down before hopping into the shower, smiling as you thought over the events of the past few hours. 

—

When you got out, your sister knocked on your door, telling you to come downstairs. She said that your dad said it was important, but she sounded somewhat annoyed by the urgency she was told to imply. 

You hurried and got dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater. The way she sounded annoyed made you anticipate the worst. Knowing your dad, he had frequently annoyed both you and your sister with antics, more so lately than ever. 

When you went downstairs, you saw that your dad had prepared a feast celebrating Wes’s win for both events he was in. Friends and family buzzed about the house, excited to celebrate Wes and his hard work. 

You looked at Everly, and the both of you took a breath and hopped into the mix to socialize. 

You both put on fake smiles and masked how you were truly feeling. This wasn’t about your dad; this was for Wes. Who you both wanted to celebrate and who deserved this, no matter how you both felt about your dad. 

You texted Joel when you had a moment,

‘Hey, so something came up after my shower with my family. I’ll text you after it’s all done. 💗’

You put your phone in your back pocket and focused on celebrating your little brother, who you were so proud of. 

—

At the end, after everyone had gone home, you were in the kitchen starting to wash the dishes. You had texted Joel to call you in 5 minutes as you would be done then.

Everly was cleaning up the living room, and Wes went out with friends when your dad came in and cleared his throat. “Ev tells me you might have met someone today…” he probed.

You turned your head to look at him and nodded, keeping your reaction as minimal as possible, “Yeah, she’s right. I’ve got a date this weekend.” You pursed your lips into a tight smile and looked back to the soapy water. 

“Who is it? Maybe I know ‘em…” he leaned against the counter, his arms folded, holding his beer, letting a small smile stretch across his lips. 

You took a moment before speaking up, debating whether or not to tell him. He always stuck his nose in your business; for once, you wanted things to be somewhat private. However, you knew if you didn’t say anything, it would end up in a fight more major than it will be with what you were about to say. 

You chose to bite the bullet and say ‘Fuck it.’ A fight with him wasn’t something new– bring it on.

“Santi’s boy, Joel.” Thinking about him, you smiled but fixed your gaze on the water. 

“Nah, no, you’re not goin’ out with him,” he said in a tone that made you think he was joking. 

You lightly chuckled and turned your head to look at him. “Yes, I am! Why not?” you smiled. “Is it hard to think I can swing one of the Miller brothers?” you joked back. 

His face turned neutral. “I’m serious. You’re not goin’ out with Joel Miller. You know how I feel about that family.” he pushed off the counter and rolled his eyes at you as he took a swig of the beer. 

Your smile dissolved, and you stood there momentarily, processing what he just said. 

After absorbing it, you shook the suds off your hands and grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands, raising your eyebrow at him, “I’m sorry, I must’ve miss the part where you have a say in this dad… forgive me but am I not a grown ass woman and don’t need your permission to date someone...” you challenged. 

He scoffed and looked at you, wanting to dig at you, “Well, you certainly aren’t a grown woman if you have to run home when your fiance makes a little accident.” 

You clenched your jaw at that and threw the towel onto the counter. “An accident?” you bit out harshly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d consider cheating an ‘accident’, Dad.” you shook your head in disbelief and looked back at him, “Did you ever do that to Mom? Was it valid enough to be unfaithful to her because it was an ‘accident’ to you?” you dug back. 

He looked at you, and you knew immediately you had tapped on a nerve. The pride you felt was one of the best feelings in the world. You rarely found a nerve, but it was blissful when you did in moments like these.

You tilted your head, getting cocky. “Oh? That seemed to get to you.” You grinned. “Well, guess what, Dad? I don’t give a damn what you say, think or want. It’s my life.” you said firmly. 

He looked down at the ground, then back at you. “You know the Millers are nothing but bad news.” 

“No, Dad. The Millers are bad news because your granddad said they were bad news back in his day. Then he created an unfair, false narrative that has spread to you – come on?" You chuckled mockingly and started to walk up to him. 

“Joel and Tommy were some of the most hardworking and kind boys when I went to high school with them.” You paused and looked at him, your breath catching in your throat. “And their dad?” you paused, “Santi brought us a meal when Mom died, Dad.” You teared up and shook your head, shrugging off anger you were starting to feel. “How can that be bad news?” you choked out.

He looked down at you and clenched his jaw before huffing a breath through his nostrils. “They are nothing but liars and cheats.” he said lowly. 

You felt another heat of anger crawl up your back and needed to step away. “Liars and cheats or just better than you when it came to competition?” You shook your head and went to walk past him. “You’ve always been a poor loser.” you muttered.

He grabbed your arm and turned you to face him roughly. “You’ll treat me with respect, young lady. Got it?” The smell of alcohol immediately hit you from his hot breath that was inches from your face. 

He’d never touched you like this. Never once laid a finger on any of you. You two always would argue or have yelling matches, but he never touched you. 

Your blood ran cold, and your breath became shaky.

You swallowed and looked up at him, eyes filled with fear. “Dad, let go of me…” 

He realized what he had done, seeing the look in your eyes. His eyes softened, and he slowly and softly let go of your arm. “I… God, I’m so sorry.” 

You quickly stepped away from him, holding onto your arm. Your heart was pounding, your adrenaline was pumping, and your mind was racing at what had just happened. 

Your phone dinged in your pocket before it started ringing. 

You pulled it out of your pocket to see Joel’s picture he’d sent you earlier across your screen. 

His dimpled smile instantly calms your nerves and washes a warmth over you. 

You looked up at your dad and clenched your jaw before flatly saying, “Night, Dad.” 

You quickly left the kitchen and ran upstairs to your room to answer the call. 

As soon as your door was shut, you answered the call.

“Hey…” You melted against the door, sliding down to your floor, holding your head in your hand.

“Hey darlin’...” he softly said. You could hear the smile plastered on his face through the phone, instantly making you smile. 

“Sorry about earlier– how’s your night been?” you asked softly. 

“No need to apologize. You had family come up! Nothin’ matters more than that, right?”

You swallowed and sighed softly, closing your eyes and leaning against the door. “Right…” 

He noticed the slight shift in your voice. “Everythin’ ok?” 

“Yeah, just a long night and an even longer story…” you softly chuckled. 

He hummed, “Need to pillow it out?” 

You giggled softly. “Pillow it out?” 

He chuckled, “You know, yell into a pillow or beat the shit out of one?” 

Your giggle grew, and you stood up, walking over to your bed, “‘Pillow it out’… that’s got to go on a t-shirt.” 

He chuckled, hearing your giggle, his stomach erupting with butterflies again. 

You smiled while lying in bed. “So, screaming into a pillow or hitting one? That helps?” 

“It did growing up and has come into use in my later years, I will confess…” he chuckled softly. 

You smiled and hummed, “Well tonight I think just hearin’ your voice is doin’ the trick.” You blushed. 

There was a pause, then he softly spoke, “Why don’t we move up our date to tomorrow?” he said abruptly. 

You chuckled, “Don’t you compete tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, and?” he chuckled. “Come cheer for me. Afterwards, you and I can go to the fair and watch the fireworks. It’ll be fun!” There was another small pause. “And if I’m bein’ honest, I don’t think I can wait two more days to take you out or to see you again…” 

You smiled and blushed, putting your pillow over your face and squealing into it, muting the phone. 

“Hello?” he said after a moment of silence. “Querida?” 

You came onto the phone and smiled, trying to act cool. “Sorry, I, uh, dropped the phone.” You bit your lip as you grinned, “Um, yes. Tomorrow it is.” 

He chuckled and smiled brightly, “Tomorrow then.” he bit his lip then cleared his throat, “Well then, with that being said, I’m going to go get some sleep. I’ve got an early morning. I’ll come see you before my event, ok?” 

You blushed and lightly bit your nail shyly. “Ok…” 

He chuckled again and took a deep breath, “Goodnight darlin’...” 

You sat up and smiled. “Night, cowboy, sweet dreams.” 

Next Chapter

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[bridenore]

HD longer fics recs : 70k to 80k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 70k and 80k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here, between 100k and 125k here and between 90k and 100k here.

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Scorpius Malfoy has never been one to leave stones unturned in his quest for adventure, and he’s not about to start when it comes to finding a cure for his father’s mysterious illness. Albus Potter has his work cut out for him, making sure Scorpius doesn’t get himself killed or drive Albus around the bend. – A tale of adventure and civilisations long forgotten, where not everything is quite as is seems.

Headlights in the Snow by Saras_Girl [71k]

What’s big and purple and smells like tea? Harry is about to find out. Advent fic 2016.

Heartlines by @shiftylinguini [72k]

Harry never expected he’d end up chipping away at his virginity while wandless and bonded to Malfoy in Northern Europe. He never expected that would turn out to be the least surprising thing to happen while out on their training expedition in the middle of nowhere, either.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w [76k]

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all. Meanwhile, on Level One, ex-Golden Boy Harry Potter is stuck in another interminable policy meeting, completely unaware of the mysterious comings and goings just three floors below. But when a giant snake emergency requires the assistance of a Parselmouth, Harry finds himself thrust, unprepared, into Draco’s weird and wonderful world – and naturally, he can’t keep away…

Manticoria by @lol-zeitgeistic [70k]

In the dangerous days after Voldemort’s fall, Harry struggles to find a way to be with Draco—again. But as the magical world threatens to die all around them, it might be more difficult than he thought. Includes dying wards, dying beasts, and love struggling to live; sentient magic, wandlore, Founder lore, potion lore, and ward lore; and of course there is Zacharias Smith to ruin everything, as usual.

Monster by shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony​ [71k]

“Hmm,” Hermione hums, tapping her index finger against her bottom lip and then smiling at Harry. “A broken music box, you say…” “A cursed one,” Harry corrects her. “Well, it’s still a music box that is not working properly,” Hermione points out with a very intent grin. “That will give you a chance to see him.” She wiggles her eyebrows, making him snort. As if Harry hadn’t thought about it straight away. As if Harry’s mind hadn’t immediately wandered to Draco Malfoy the moment Zabini mentioned a music box.

Now My Neck Is Open Wide (begging for a fist around it) by LadySlytherin [75k]

Six months post-war, Harry meets Grayson Wenke, a famous Quidditch player. Harry believes he’s found the love of his life, and a Happily Ever After ending suitable for the storybooks. When Grayson slowly goes from Prince Charming to a monster behind closed doors, Harry finds himself trapped, and alone, and fearing for his life. When Harry realizes he’s pregnant, the opportunity for escape - and a real Happily Ever After - presents itself as none other than Draco Malfoy. The only question is if Harry is brave enough to take a chance, and strong enough to heal.

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k] 

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop [70k]

It’s Potter’s fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It’s been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco’s getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he’s falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Teach Me, Life; Guide Me, Love by Kira OHara [79k]

Revelations both painful and joyous set the markers in the path of every life. Thankfully, Draco has spectacular company for the journey.

That Old Black Magic by @bixgirl1 [77k]

Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he’d thought would be easy after the war… with Draco Malfoy.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[kmatrixx1130]

Heartlines: Chapter 1 - First Incision

Summary: Dr. Abby Anderson thrives in the chaos of Seattle General’s OR until Dr. Nia Carter, a new anesthesiologist, challenges her precision with bold charisma during a high-stakes surgery.

Word Count: 5k+

Rating: M (18+ for mature themes and language)

• ————————————————— •

The operating room at Seattle General hummed with a sterile symphony: the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, the soft hiss of the ventilator, the clink of instruments against trays. Dr. Abby Anderson stood at the center of it all, her gloved hands steady as she traced the scalpel’s path along the patient’s lower spine. The incision was clean, precise, a testament to years of discipline honed in rooms like this one. Around her, the surgical team moved in quiet sync—nurses passing tools, residents observing, the anesthesiologist monitoring vitals. This was her domain, where chaos bent to her will.

“Retractor,” Abby said, her voice low but commanding. A nurse placed the instrument in her palm without hesitation. The patient, a 42-year-old construction worker named Daniel Ruiz, lay prone, his life tethered to the team’s skill. A herniated disc had compressed his spinal cord, threatening paralysis. Abby’s job was to decompress the nerve, stabilize the vertebrae, and get him walking again. Routine, yet never forgiving.

Her focus was unshakable, her world narrowed to the exposed tissue and the delicate dance of her hands. Until the heart monitor stuttered.

A single irregular beep pierced the rhythm, and Abby’s eyes flicked to the screen. The green line jagged, then smoothed, but the glitch lingered in her mind like a splinter. “What’s going on with the monitor?” she snapped, not looking up from the surgical field.

“Vitals are stable,” came the anesthesiologist’s voice from behind the drape—calm, almost too calm. “Pulse ox is 98, BP 120 over 80. It’s just a flicker.”

Abby’s jaw tightened. She didn’t know this anesthesiologist, a new hire who’d started this week. The voice was unfamiliar, its steadiness grating against her need for absolute control. “A flicker can mean a fault. Check it.”

“Already on it,” the voice replied, unruffled. Abby caught a glimpse of movement beyond the drape—long fingers adjusting a cable, a flash of gold against dark skin. The monitor’s rhythm steadied, and the room exhaled.

“Good,” Abby muttered, returning to the spine. She didn’t have time for distractions, not with Ruiz’s future on the line. She positioned the retractor, exposing the compressed nerve root. “Suction.”

The nurse complied, clearing blood from the field. Abby worked methodically, her mind a steel trap. She’d performed this procedure dozens of times—laminectomy, discectomy, fusion. Each step was a checkpoint, each motion deliberate. Yet the anesthesiologist’s voice lingered, its cadence too confident for someone new to her OR.

“Dr. Anderson,” the voice said, breaking her focus again. “Patient’s trending slightly hypotensive. I’m adjusting the fluids.”

Abby’s scalpel paused mid-motion. Hypotension during spinal surgery could signal anything from blood loss to a reaction to anesthesia. “How slight?”

“BP’s down to 110 over 70. Heart rate’s steady at 72. I’ve increased the saline drip.”

“Keep me posted on every change,” Abby said, her tone clipped. She didn’t like surprises, and she didn’t like relying on someone she didn’t know. Her regular anesthesiologist, Dr. Patel, was on leave, and this replacement—Dr. Carter, was it?—was an unknown variable.

“Will do,” Dr. Carter replied, and Abby swore she heard a trace of amusement. It set her teeth on edge.

She refocused, guiding the drill to shape the bone graft. The whine of the tool drowned out the monitor’s hum, but not the tension coiling in her chest. This surgery was her responsibility. If anything went wrong, it was her name on the chart, her face in the family’s questions. She didn’t trust easily, not here.

The procedure stretched into its third hour. Abby placed the titanium screws, securing the fusion. Her shoulders ached, but she ignored them. “Closing now,” she announced, reaching for the suture needle.

“Vitals are rock solid,” Dr. Carter said, unprompted. “Nice work down there.”

Abby’s hands froze for a fraction of a second. Compliments in the OR were rare, and this one felt too casual, too familiar. She didn’t respond, focusing on the sutures—neat, even stitches that would minimize scarring. When she tied off the final knot, the room seemed to breathe again.

“Patient’s stable,” Dr. Carter added. “Ready to extubate when you give the go-ahead.”

“Do it,” Abby said, stepping back as the team began cleanup. She stripped off her gloves, her mind already shifting to the post-op report. Ruiz would recover, barring complications. Another success, another day.

As the nurses wheeled the patient to recovery, Abby turned toward the sink to scrub out. That’s when she saw her.

Dr. Nia Carter stood by the anesthesia cart, peeling off her mask. Her locs, adorned with gold cuffs that glinted under the OR lights, were pulled into a high bun. Her scrubs hugged a frame that carried itself with effortless poise. But it was her eyes—dark, piercing, and steady—that caught Abby off guard. They held a quiet challenge, as if Nia had seen Abby’s sharpness and wasn’t fazed.

“Dr. Anderson,” Nia said, extending a hand. “Nia Carter. Good work in there.”

Abby hesitated, her hands still dripping from the scrub. She grabbed a towel, drying them slowly, then shook Nia’s hand. Her grip was firm, her skin warm. “Thanks,” Abby said, her voice gruff. “You’re new.”

“Started Monday,” Nia replied, her smile easy but not soft. “Heard you run a tight ship.”

Abby’s brow lifted. “I expect precision. Lives depend on it.”

“Understood,” Nia said, her tone matching Abby’s intensity. “I’m here to keep up.”

For a moment, they stood there, sizing each other up. Abby felt a spark of something—curiosity, maybe, or irritation. Nia’s confidence bordered on boldness, and Abby wasn’t sure if she admired it or resented it. Before she could decide, Nia nodded and turned to finish her charting.

Abby watched her go, her gaze lingering on the gold cuffs catching the light. She shook her head, pushing the thought aside. She had rounds to make, notes to dictate. No time for distractions.

Nia Carter had felt the weight of eyes on her since her first day at Seattle General. The hospital was a labyrinth of white walls and hushed voices, its staff a mix of weary veterans and ambitious newcomers. As she navigated the halls, her badge clipped to her scrubs, she noticed the glances—some curious, some guarded. Her locs, her gold cuffs, her unapologetic presence seemed to draw them like moths.

She’d expected it. Medicine wasn’t a forgiving field for anyone, let alone a Black woman with a style that didn’t blend into the sterile backdrop. Her first day had started with orientation, a blur of paperwork and introductions. Most of her colleagues were polite, if distant. But one moment stood out, sharp and subtle.

“Dr. Carter?” a senior surgeon, Dr. Hensley, had said, glancing at her hair during a staff meeting. “Your… appearance is quite unconventional. I hope it doesn’t distract from your work.”

The room had gone quiet, the air thick with unspoken judgments. Nia had smiled, her voice smooth as silk. “My work speaks for itself, Dr. Hensley. I’m here to save lives, not blend in.”

The response had earned a few nods and a quick subject change, but the sting lingered. She’d faced worse—med school had been a gauntlet of microaggressions and outright bias—but it never got easier. She’d learned to armor herself with charm and competence, proving her worth in ways no one could question.

Now, four days into her tenure, she stood in the OR with Dr. Abby Anderson, the hospital’s golden child. Abby’s reputation preceded her: brilliant, relentless, and colder than the steel she wielded. Nia had watched her during the surgery, noting the precision of her movements, the way she commanded the room without raising her voice. But she’d also seen the walls Abby built—emotional fortifications as solid as the titanium she’d screwed into Ruiz’s spine.

Nia wasn’t intimidated. She’d faced surgeons like Abby before, their egos as sharp as their scalpels. But there was something else there, a flicker of vulnerability in Abby’s pause when their eyes met. It intrigued her, even as she braced for the inevitable clash.

As she finished her charting, Nia glanced at Abby, now scrubbing out. The surgeon’s blonde hair was tucked under a cap, her face set in a mask of focus. Nia wondered what it would take to crack that facade, to see the woman beneath the control.

Abby’s office was a fortress of order: charts stacked neatly, a single framed photo of her with her late mentor, Dr. Levinson, on the desk. She sank into her chair, the adrenaline of surgery fading into a dull ache. Ruiz’s case had gone well, but the monitor glitch gnawed at her. She didn’t like variables, and Dr. Nia Carter was a walking one.

She opened her laptop, pulling up the patient’s chart to dictate her notes. Her mind, though, kept drifting to Nia’s gaze—those eyes that seemed to see too much. Abby wasn’t used to being unsettled, not in her OR, not in her life. She’d built her career on control, on keeping emotions at bay. Her father’s death from a botched surgery when she was sixteen had taught her that. Trust no one, rely on yourself.

Yet Nia’s confidence, her calm under pressure, had sparked something. Curiosity, maybe. Or respect. Abby wasn’t sure, and that uncertainty irritated her.

A knock at the door pulled her back. “Come in,” she called.

Dr. Owen Reed, a fellow surgeon and her closest friend at the hospital, leaned against the frame. His scrubs were wrinkled, his grin easy. “Heard you had a spinal fusion today. How’d it go?”

“Fine,” Abby said, leaning back. “Patient’s stable. Should walk in a few weeks.”

“And the new anesthesiologist?” Owen raised a brow. “Carter, right? People are talking.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “About what?”

“Her work, mostly. Sharp, quick on her feet. Also her… vibe.” Owen chuckled. “She’s not exactly low-key.”

Abby’s mind flashed to the gold cuffs, the locs, the way Nia carried herself like she owned the room. “She’s competent,” she said, her tone neutral. “That’s what matters.”

Owen studied her, his grin fading. “You okay? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” Abby said, too quickly. She stood, grabbing her coat. “I’ve got rounds.”

Owen didn’t push, but his eyes followed her as she left. Abby felt the weight of his concern, but she brushed it off. She didn’t have time for introspection, not with patients waiting.

Nia’s shift ended at dusk, the Seattle skyline glowing through the hospital’s windows. She changed out of her scrubs, her locs now loose, cascading past her shoulders. The gold cuffs clinked softly as she adjusted them, a ritual that grounded her. They’d been a gift from her mother, a reminder of who she was and where she came from.

As she headed to the parking garage, her phone buzzed. A text from her brother, Malik.

Minime🤞🏾: How’s the new gig? You running the place yet?

She smiled, typing back: Lol give me a week. 🙃

The truth was messier. Seattle General was a fresh start, a chance to prove herself after a grueling residency in Chicago. But the stares, the subtle digs—they followed her here, too. She’d chosen anesthesiology for its precision, its quiet power. She was the one who kept patients alive while surgeons like Abby played hero. Yet she knew her role came with less glory, more scrutiny.

In the garage, she spotted Abby by a sleek black SUV, her coat slung over one arm. The surgeon’s posture was rigid, her face unreadable. Nia hesitated, then called out, “Dr. Anderson.”

Abby turned, her expression guarded. “Dr. Carter.”

“Heading out?” Nia asked, closing the distance.

“Yeah,” Abby said, unlocking her car. “Long day.”

“Same.” Nia leaned against a pillar, her tone light. “You always that intense in the OR?”

Abby’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. “It’s how I work.”

“Fair enough,” Nia said. “Just don’t snap at me next time the monitor blinks.”

Abby’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Keep the vitals steady, and I won’t have to.”

Nia laughed, the sound warm in the cold garage. “Deal.”

For a moment, their gazes locked, and Nia saw it again—that flicker of something in Abby’s eyes. Curiosity, maybe. Or defiance. Before she could name it, Abby nodded curtly and slid into her car.

Nia watched her drive off, her smile lingering. Abby Anderson was a puzzle, one she wouldn’t mind solving.

Back in her apartment, Abby poured a glass of red wine and sank onto her couch. The city sparkled beyond her window, but her mind was elsewhere. She replayed the surgery, the monitor glitch, Nia’s voice cutting through the tension. Competent, she’d told Owen. But it was more than that. Nia had presence, a gravity that pulled focus without trying.

Abby sipped her wine, her thoughts drifting to her father. He’d been a carpenter, his hands rough but steady. The surgeon who’d failed him had been arrogant, dismissive. Abby had vowed never to be that doctor, never to let ego cloud her judgment. Yet Nia’s boldness, her unapologetic self, stirred something she couldn’t place.

She set the glass down, her walls snapping back into place. Tomorrow was another day, another surgery. Nia Carter was just a colleague, nothing more.

But as she drifted to sleep, those piercing eyes followed her into her dreams.

LOVE, TANA 💋

[bonechillen]

Rate Your OC - Juno Tavlin

Thank you for the tag @optiwashere this seems like a ton of fun!

Compassion: 7/10 - While Juno tends to be compassionate, it often comes a disingenuous place, or can have its limits. Often times her compassion is from a place of stroking her own ego at the beginning of her journey, and fulfilling the role she feels she must take on of a “good cleric”, but as she grows, she learns more of actual, genuine compassion.

Bitterness: 8/10 - One of Juno’s core traits is her bitterness toward Sharran’s and her own family. This will be expounded upon in Heartlines chapter 2, so I don’t want to give too much away.

Happiness: 4/10 - While Juno comes across as very bubbly and happy, it’s more so a front to keep up her image.

Chivalry: 8/10 - Juno will abide by chivalric notions, devoting her life even to guiding others, and helping those who wander under Selûne’s light; however this is not done with the pure intention of helping, but rather maintaining an image.

Pride: 10/10 - This girl is prideful to a tee. It’s very self serving when she does a good deed, always going straight to her head and fueling her notions of goodliness.

Honesty: 10/10 - Honesty is very important to Juno, and it’s a huge conflict she faces when dealing with Astarion, and Shadowheart respectively. Though, it doesn’t stop her from forming a close bond with Wyll, who she relates to on the “Cannot speak of their trauma” front.

Bravery: 3/10 - Juno is actively terrified in each combat encounter, as she’s very avoidant to danger normally, and not used to taking problems head on. She’s also afraid to take the leap romantically in her relationships and struggles to speak on her deeper feelings out of fear of rejection. Yet, with time, this changes.

Recklessness: 2/10 - This character’s problem solving approach is very conflict avoidant, so she approaches most conflict carefully, and with a well thought out plan. Yet, she has her moments of impulsivity where she deviates from the plan - namely when she sees someone she cares for in danger.

Ambition: 5/10 - Juno has a lot of things she’d like to do when she feels like she’s earned it. Most revolves around travel, seeing the world, and meeting people of different backgrounds. In the back of her mind, she wants to settle down with a family, but she worries she’ll never feel like she earned such a simple life.

Loyalty: 10/10 - While her loyalty is hard to truly earn, it’s unwavering once it is. There is nothing any of her companions could do that would make Juno give up on them, even the deepest of betrayal aren’t enough to shake her from her found family’s side.

Love: 5/10 - Juno resists falling in love very hard, but once she’s in love, she never lets it go.

Sense of Family: 4/10 - Due to her tragic backstory™️, Juno is completely estranged from her family. Though, she craves a family of her own one day, while never expecting to attain it.

Attractiveness: 10/10 - she’s so pretty, total dime piece. I think everyone would answer that about their OC haha.

Agility: 6/10 - While combat agility isn’t her strength, Juno is pretty deft at avoiding combat, and strikes all together. She doesn’t land a blow very quickly though, and combat isn’t really her strength.

Sex Drive: 10/10 - I put this character through the Hells in the name of getting some, she has to have a crazy sex drive haha.

This was a super fun think piece on my OC, and I recommend everyone who wants to, try it out! I will no pressure tag some people who I am dying to read more about their OCs!

@marlfox1017 @callmelyrus @robinyourcreator @strugglingcomet2 @fogno @knightdelt @noeldressari @eldritchelfwriter

Anyone who I missed please hop on the bandwagon if this seems fun to you! I love reading about OCs especially ones in fics I can read 🥰