#a moment out in the sun before going back to jail

[lesservillain]

eddie munson x best friend!reader

summary: a previous request I had to write eddie and a weird girl!reader. edited just a tad for better flow.

cw: none

Eddie watched as you picked up another rock, examining it carefully in your hand before tossing it towards the lake. The two of you had been out here at Lover’s Lake for close to 2 hours now, skipping the rest of the school day after you'd asked him to bring you here during lunch.

The boys laughed at him for how easy it was for you to get him to do anything. But Eddie only gave them the finger as he trailed behind you out of the school. You never asked him for much, so who was he to deny you?

You and Eddie had known each other since he moved to the trailer park to live with Wayne. The two of you fell in and out of friendship over the years as you both went through the motions of life that got you to where you were today.

Sometimes you two were inseparable, and other times you kept to yourself. Choosing to be alone for weeks or months on end until you would knock on his trailer door like you'd just seen him yesterday. Many deemed you weird for your antisocial behaviors, including your own mother. But, Eddie knew you would come back around eventually, and he always welcomed you back with open arms.

With his legs dangling out the back door of his van, he brought a newly lit cigarette in his mouth to chase the joint he had just finished as he watched you do…whatever thing you needed to get out of your system today. He should have known you were going to want to spend the day outside with the overcast that had been looming. You hated the heat from the sun, preferring the shield of the clouds to cover you while you look for different bug or flowers or whatever you deemed worthy to be picked from the ground. 

“Oh, Eddie!” Your excited voice had him jolting straight up, greeted by the site of your bright smile before him. “Look! This one’s got a fossil in it!”

Eddie opens his hand for you to place the rock in it. Your discovery stays hidden until you pull your hand away from his. And, sure as shit, there’s a print of some old ass plant or something on the side of the little rock. 

“Woah, that's fucking cool,” he says, matching your energy for your find. He hands it back to you and you hold it in both hands, face beaming at your discovery. Eddie likes it when you get like this. The pure, unadulterated bliss that beams from you feels like it could cheer him up on his deathbed.

But after a moment, your expression falters. A crack in the joy of the moment that Eddie clocks right away. 

“What?” He asks, looking at you even though he knows you wont give him eye contact back. 

“Eddie, why do you hang out with me?”

Eddie reels back. It’s not the first time you’ve dropped heavy questions on him before, but he wasn’t expecting you to hit him with that one. 

It was one he wasn't sure how to answer. Mostly because the answer was complicated.

Why was he your friend? Why did he like having you around? Why did it kill him when you distance yourself from him?

Okay, maybe the answer wasn't really that complicated. Rather, admitting it was. 

Because the truth is that Eddie is completely head over heels for you.

Ever since he’s known you he knew you were it for him. You never thought that he was a freak for having a dead mom and a jail bird dad. Never judged him for being poor even for trailer park standards. Certainly never made any remarks about his music tastes.

He hadn't always been subtle about his feelings, telling you when you were younger that he would marry you someday. He still gets a kick when he thinks about the way your nose scrunched up at the suggestion.

He would pester you any chance he could, and Wayne had to tell him to not be so forward or else he was going to scare you off. Little did Wayne know that it would take a hell of a lot more than Eddie’s strong personally to push you away. He eventually realized how well you could meet Eddie’s energy, calling the two of you a match made for trouble.

Because Eddie loves when you would barge into his room without knocking to show him a painting you’ve finished. Or when you would tap on his window at 3 am because you couldn’t sleep, knowing he was probably still awake too.

He loved when you would join the Hellfire Club at lunch, telling Grant to move so you could sit next to Eddie’s spot at the end of the table. He loved that you wanted to be around him, and he wanted to be around you just as much. 

“Because we’re friends,” he says casually. Your eyes lift to meet his. He can’t tell you how he feels. He can’t risk giving you a reason to run away from him. “It’s been like, what, 10 years now since we started hanging out? Why do you want to know now?”

Your eyes shift down, avoiding eye contact with him once again. You must be worried about something he thinks. He wishes he could read minds just to see what you’re thinking. 

“I was just wondering," you say in a tone that tells Eddie you were not just wondering. "Don’t want you to think you’re obligated to hang out with me or anything.”

“What?” He shakes his head incredulously, laughing at the absurdity of your assumption. “I don’t feel obligated. I like hanging out with you. Promise.”

He sticks his pinky out for you to twist with yours, something you’ve been doing since he pinky-promised to be your friend when the other kids said you were too weird. 

But you don’t accept it, crossing your arms over your chest and curling in on yourself. Your boot shifts as you nervously roll a rock under your heel. It’s quiet for a moment, and Eddie drops his hand slowly, not liking the way the air is shifting around the two of you.

Something feels off. Final. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to hang out anymore, Eddie,” you say matter of factually.

Forced. He can tell you’re putting on a front, like the one you put on for your mom. He wonders if she’s got something to do with this. 

Eddie’s throat feels dry, breathing in through his nose to keep himself together. 

“I don’t know why you would think that. Did I do something—”

“No,” you cut him off, looking at him in the eyes for a few seconds before averting your gaze again. “It’s not you Eddie. I just…”

Eddie stares at you with his big brown eyes hoping you’ll give him something, anything to try and fix whatever has you feeling this way. 

“Don’t you want a girlfriend?”

Well that was the last thing he expected you to say. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He blinks up at you, confused at where this conversation is going. You take a sharp breath through your nose, and huff, brows pinching as you become visibly upset. 

“Well you and Jeff and Gareth were talking about how hot the cheerleaders uniforms are, and — and you said that if you had a chance you’d like to see what's under their skirts—“

“Okay, hold on, I didn’t say that,” he says defensively, but you give him a look that makes him back track. “Or, even if I did, I only said it because it was Gareth and Jeff. I didn’t really mean it.”

“I’m not mad that you said it, Eddie. I just," you breath in, a slight hitch in your throat as you do. "…I hear what those girls say about me…about us and…I just feel like…I—I,” you sniffle, “I don’t want to be the reason you can’t get a girlfriend.”

Eddie tries so, so hard not to laugh. Like, he’s really trying to hold it in because you’re clearly very upset. But he can’t suppress wide grin that slowly creeps across his face.

“Sweetheart,” he finally says, “You don’t really think that do you?”

Your only response is a silent nod and Eddie’s heart only grows more for you. 

“Trust me, you’re not why I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says with a tone of self-deprecation. It’s not the full truth, because technically you are the reason, just not in the way you think. “Those cheerleaders wouldn’t want me whether you’re around me or not. And it’s not like there’s a line of girls dying to date me or whatever.”

He twists his rings around his fingers, waiting for your response. When he looks up, you’re looking at him like he’s got three heads.

“What?” He laughs. 

“Are you joking?” You ask him very seriously.

“Joking about what…?”

“That you don’t have girls trying to, you know, get with you…”

“Oh, no, definitely not.” 

A smile finally cracks on your face at his words, and an immediate relief washes over him. The tension in your body visibly washes away and you take a step closer to him. 

“Okay,” you say with a soft smile. 

“Can I ask why you’re so worried about me getting a girlfriend anyway?”

“Well, my mom said—“

He raises his hand, stopping you mid sentence, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

It warms his heart when you laugh, melting all the worries away. Though, he still can’t help feeling like he could lose you forever at any given moment. It would gut him if you really did decide that he couldn’t be in your life anymore. He already gets sick at the thought of you meeting someone else, someone other than him, and moving on to leave him in the dust. 

“Why do you hang out with me?”

He likes the way your eyebrows shoot up when he turns your question back on you. He thinks that he’s got you just as flustered as you had him, but you look at him with a shake of the head as you speak very matter of factly. 

“Because I love you.”

Eddie has to catch himself before he can get too excited. This is you that he’s dealing with here. And you could mean that in so many ways; as a friend, a brother, a lover.  And, god, did he hope you mean the ladder. 

“Love me how?” He asks carefully, trying his best not to sound to excited. 

“Like…well, sometimes, when you do stuff that’s, like, really cute or makes me happy, I just want to—“ You bring your hands to his face, something you’ve done many times over the years when he’s going on about D&D or music or even just when he’s reading. He always assumed it was your way of expressing that he was being a bother or overstimulating you, so he would usually stop or change the subject. “—just grab you and kiss you.”

Eddie knows his face has to be as red as a tomato. His heart is going a million miles a minute and he can barely keep his breathing steady. 

Holy shit is this happening?

“You want to kiss me?” 

You nod, “Yeah, like, a lot.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Your eyes practically bug out of your head, dumbstruck at his words. 

“I can do that?”

“Please?” It comes out breathy, meant to be a joke, but almost as a beg.

And so you do. Your soft, mint chapstick covered lips hastily meet his, head tilted ever so slightly so your noses don’t bump as if you’ve done this before. Have you done this before? Certainly not with him. It makes his blood boil thinking that someone other than him has ever gotten a chance to do this with you.

The feeling of your fingers gliding across his scalp, nails skimming in a way that sends goosebumps down his arms. He takes the opportunity to bring his own hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss. 

When you finally pull away, Eddie leans in to chase after you. And when he finally opens his eyes, he feels sick—lovesick at the sight of your pleased smile. The way you’re looking at him with a sparkle in your eye makes him feel like he could do anything. 

“Wow,” you say between the two of you. 

“Likewise,” he says with an airy chuckle. 

“Can I do it again?” You ask shyly. 

“Sweetheart, you can kiss me whenever you want,” he says dreamily. 

“Really?”

He hums in response, cut off with a hmph as your lips meet his again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

thank you for reading.

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

What would the joestars (part 1-9) reactions to their darling (gender neutral) skirt getting lifted/flinged up by a kid?

( I got inspired from that one scene from frieren where a boy lifts up her skirt...and i personally wanna see the yandere joestars reactions lol.)

https://youtu.be/gd8kDrA9bi8?si=7UVFjAViup42cxZw

There’s the resounding thought of “is it wrong to beat up a child?” going through the Joestar’s heads.

Yandere! Jonathan Joestar

He’s fast enough to pick up whatever kid did this to his poor darling. No amount of smacking and thrashing will make him let go until they apologize, and Jonathan is pretty upset and makes it clear never to do it again. He appears to almost be a very stern parent talking to them, but there’s just a little bit of an intimidating aura behind it that it scares the kid off. Not to mention his large muscular stature helps fend them off as well.

He’ll probably walk you home after and make sure the kid doesn’t try jumping you (He knows how petty an angered person can be sometimes).

Yandere! Joseph Joestar

He can play petty, and he’s not going to let some snot nosed brat just upskirt his darling like that. (that’s a view he’s only allowed to have) The kid doesn’t get far at all, and probably even trips with whatever hamon trick Joseph decides to play off. He flicks the kids nose, maybe even pinches it.

“Cheeky little….you think you’re clever, but you’re not getting far with me, go home already”

He’s absolutely petty enough to give the kid a shaken up soda, and have it explode all over him later, (and maybe pants him, himself at some point). He’ll deny it later when you bring it up

Yandere! Jotaro Kujo

Under normal circumstances he’d be pissed, but being obsessive puts that anger through the roof. Star Platinum grabs the kid by the collar, and pulls them backwards. His stare is cold as ice, there’s zero patience in his voice as he also trips the kid with his stand by the feet. “How about you run home before something that you don’t like happens punk” is about the most restrained Jotaro can be at this point. He’s definitely tempted to punt the brat into the sun

The kid likely has a bloody nose, freaks out and books it out of there in a blink of an eye terrified. Alternatively there’s a chance Jotaro catches the kid early with a little use of his time stop, and smacks the kid in the back of the head with his hand. (Nothing concussion worthy) but it still sends the perpetrator packing.

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (P4)

It irritates him almost instantly as insulting his hair, he’s on a similar level as Joseph when it comes to these things and the kid is going to have something not quite looking right after the use of Crazy Diamond. Who knows how the kid ended up in a fountain later, it totally wasn’t him! There might be a few other embarrassing stints and the kid eventually never walks your or his way ever again.

Yandere! Giorno Giovanna

His reaction would be interesting here, there’s a weird mix of calmness and pettiness wrapped into one. Firstly the blonde likely manages to pickpocket the kid right off the cuff. Tells the kid he forgot something while waving a wallet or a small amount of money around. Giorno has an obviously fake smile on his face, talks to the kid for a moment or two out of your earshot, perhaps you see an ear pinch out of your peripheral vision.

Though a scream erupts shortly after and the kid is running off slapping insects off themselves.

Yandere! Jolyne Kujo

She’s not the type to take stupid crap like upskirting happening to you (much like her father). The kid almost instantly gets caught by stone free, tripping him up. “What do you think you’re doing kid?” She’ll be asking them if they think their age is a get out of jail free card for acting like a brat. Jolyne will absolutely clever enough to make it look like she’s a sibling of this kid while giving him a taste of their own medicine.

Since they likely cant see stone free, the kid keeps tripping over and over. She might keep him still enough for a few birds to come over and do their business. Maybe hold their mouth open a bit, and suggests not telling anyone about this unless they want their parents to know them as the town pervert.

Yandere! Johnny Joestar

He’d pretend to almost not even notice this kids antics, but the kid quickly gets tripped up by spin. If there is any objects around they would just happen to trip into them. “Not sure what you’re trying to pull there, but it’s not a smart idea to pull that stunt to someone I like” Johnny tells them bluntly. This kid probably ends up “falling” again in mud or another unsavory mix from horses. He just gives the kid a cold stare and gestures them to leave for their own safety.

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (Gappy) Part 8

There’s some soft humming as he goes to stop the kid who decided to upskirt you. There’s a dark look in his eyes as he grips the kid’s wrist firmly. He makes it clear he’s upset, and likely embarrasses the kid by messing with their hair, making it an obnoxiously ugly style or generally dumping something on them. With the bonus of the kid walking into a pole before rushing off, ( all of that may or may have not had to do with Soft & Wet)

Yandere! Jodio Joestar

There’s really no going back when you mess with his darling. Anything he does to this kid, he doesn’t regret in the slightest. “Want to see my sense of humor?” He’ll probably ask almost mockingly. He asks how’s the weather to kid, and casually uses November Rain on them. If he has food or a drink he doesn’t hesitate to dump it on the kid either. “I don’t think I want a sorry honestly….seems too…insincere for what you did” he shrugs.

[tarjapearce]

Cast Away

Warning: ANGST, Emotional discomfort, mentions of miscarriage, controlled substance use, not a happy ending. So sorry for this in advance :<

"LYLA? you copy?" Jess spoke through the intercom as she stared at your holographic projection on her watch.

"Anomaly suspect identified, she's... buying tea?" Confusion was evident in the AI's voice as she pinpointed your exact location. "Huh, thought she was dangerous."

"We don't know that yet, she could ambush us at any-"

"She's coming your way!"

Jess' aracnid senses tingled as you approached, revving her motorbike she came straight at you, stopping a few meters away from your civilian looking self.

"We can do this the good way or the bad way" Her brown eyes narrowed but you just sighed and put your packaged drink down and held your hands up to her.

"L-Let's calm down, shall we?" You stepped closer but she just revved the engine again, suspicion rising and it made you stop walking. The hairs of your back stood as your senses tingled weakly, contrary to Jessica's.

"Please, I... just wanna talk, ok? I just wanna go home."

"LYLA" Jess spoke as the AI materialized and ran a scan through you.

"Her vitals are normal, heartbeats a bit wild, but no signs of unusual brain activity that dictates irregular behavior."

You glitched and slumped to the floor in pain. Then, you curled your knees closer and your arms around them to create a little space for you. Eyes seizing the woman in red , but stopped as her round belly came in sight. Your hands held tightly and soon your eyes tore themselves from her.

"Brain activity detected, serotonin levels just dropped." Lyla spoke through the intercomand Jess frowned again as you glitched once more with a whimper.

"She seems in distress, Jessica." Lyla kept speaking as the spider woman just looked at you, unsure on how to proceed. Anomalies were usually feisty, a menace, dangerous. But you, were the odd out. You just curled into a ball and sulked.

She exhaled tiredly and turned the motorbike off. Her tingling had stopped the moment Lyla gave a diagnose on your biometrics, but still kept her distance. She however, tapped some instructions before looking at you.

"I'll be there soon." Miguel spoke through her intercom. Jess' eyes were on you again and she crossed her arms above her belly, waiting.

"How far are you?" You broke the silence first.

"Six months to go."

You nodded giving her a weak smile.

"That's a beautiful baby bump."

"Thanks." she spoke curtly, but that didn't stop you from talking.

"Baby girl or boy?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but softened at the way your eyes looked at her grown belly. A sight she had seen before in her universe, a sight that only soon to be mothers gave her with awe, but yours were pained.

"I want it to be surprise."

You nodded as tears prickled the corner of your eyes.

"Universe 413 has the best supplements for pregnancy , or so I could... check." You spoke as you grabbed a small paper cup from the forgotten package and sipped it to warm yourself. The weather in universe 413 was cold, despite the blazing sun standing proud in the background.

"Might look into it. How did you end up here?"

"That's what I wanna know. I was about to meet my husband for a celebration... and I was just sucked in here. Fell on a pool, had to steal someone clothes and... Im just trying to warm up and go home." You rubbed your eyes to. prevent more tears to pile up.

"Ever since I got here I've been glitching nonstop and my powers are even more messed up. It's scary and confusing." 

"Wait, how long have you been here?"

"Just a couple of days, but it feels forever."

As you finished your tea a new portal opened up, revealing a tall figure materializing before you. You were immediately locked up in what it seemed a electric-crystal like, custom made jail.

"Wha-"

"Easy there... We're taking you home." Jess spoke as she hopped on her bike once more and disappeared in the portal before giving a last glance your way.

"I'll get it from here." The sudden male and familiar noise sent chills down your spine. Tears flooded your already glossed eyes as the masked figure stared at you. His hand clenched upon the first tear rolling down.

--------

In the blink of an eye you were already in a place that made so many memories to flood in, most of them bittersweet.

"Lyla, access to this area is denied temporarily." Miguel spoke, his back still facing you

"Gotcha." Just as the voice had appeared, it vanished. The glass like prison vanished, just as his mask. You knew that stance more than anyone else, but still, it was the least of places you wanted to be.

"How..." he tried, and cleared his throat, sighing silently. "How you ended up in another universe?"

"A portal sucked me in. It appeared out of nowhere. Let me go home." His back tensed at your words, finally he turned to face you, but his frown deepened upon watching you. Your scent was different. Everything about you was different. Your gentle eyes were gone, and so your usual amiable self.

"What did you do?" Glaring, you held your stare at him as your jaw clenched.

"Inhibitors"

His eyes widened in disbelief for a moment before going to the usual scowl he always carried.

"Inhibitors, of course" He mumbled before throwing a furniture for it to land on Spider byte's station. It was just him and you. You didn't flinch at the explosive outburst, rather, braced yourself with an exasperated sigh.

"Why would you ever do that?! " His voice laced with anger and a soft bit of concern, "You know what they do to us."

"I want a normal life." you seethed

He scoffed and shook his head.

"You well damn know that is not possible for people like us."

"But that never stopped you. Right?"

His jaw tensed as his fist clenched.

"Right, Miguel?" You glared at him though his back faced you.

"There we go... Por dios, eres un hipócrita* You think you can always just do a fucking mess and expect shit just fix itself over time."

"Shut up."

"No. Fuck you, and fuck you very much. What did you expected? A welcome? Mariachis and a whole fucking celebration since you were finally owing up the consequences for what you did?. You left me, Miguel."

Your voice couldn't help but crack on his name.

"You left me when I needed you the most!."

"I was scared!" He roared, his fangs poking out from his mouth but you pushed him away, anger surpassed your fear, truly not thinking a rational approach.

"You think I wasn't?! I had just lost our baby. Our kid..." Miguel's eyes softened in pain and looked at you, "I didn't get to meet them, I didn't get to experience what was to be a mother, I didn't get to hold them for fucks sake!" Your voice finally breaking, both angry and anguished.

"But you didn't care. You just wanted to be a father so bad that..." He tried to reach for your hand, but slapped it away, rejecting him instantly as your eyes settled in the screen behind him, replaying the memories of himself with his daughter from another universe.

"You went to another fucking dimension to play house with someone else's family as I was trying to hold it all together over here! Cleaning up your mess! And guess what? It was never enough for you. I was never enough for you." Your voice had raised, yet it was crumbling as the knot in your throat grew tighter.

"That's not-" He growled but sighed

"I lost her too. And when I came back, everything was gone. Incluyéndote."

"You really though that I would wait for you after you ran away? You can't have or do both things. A person can only do so much, yet you made me feel so worthless."

"Your miscarriage was a cannon event. It was meant to happen. That's why I... ran away. I couldn't..." His voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"And you never told me?"

"I fucking didn't know, coño. You think I'd sit there and wait for shit to happen!?" He gestured as he spoke, "I could've risked everything to save our kid, but I knew about it too late! But I know that saying sorry won't change anything."

You held your breath and sat on a chair. Rubbing your face in frustration. But the feeling of his hand was almost electric as he took your hand to admire the pretty ring that adorned your finger.

He let your hand go.

" How long you've been married?"

"Five years." His frame slumped slightly

"Is he the reason you're killing your powers with inhibitors?"

"Yes and no. They hide your... tingling presence from others, ."

"That's why I never found you."

"I didn't want to be found. But now that you did-"

"He knows, right? About your-"

"He does. And he doesn't care."

"Why taking them, then?"

"Can't get pregnant if my blood levels show high toxicity thanks to the spider DNA. I... We, uh, we want a family."

He closed his eyes as he processed your words. He could picture you with a round belly, the weirdest cravings at the weirdest hours, just like the first months you had shared together. And now he had to watch all what his heart once desired, through the eyes of someone else.

"Just let me go, Miguel. I need to go back home."

"To him, you'd mean."

"Yes."

"LYLA" His voice echoed through the room as the AI appeared, her face was evidently on distress, as if she had heard everything but not on purpose.

"Yes?"

" Scort her out, tell Jess to take her home."

"Right away."

You stood and exhaled deeply.

"You'll be a great mother" His voice stopped you. It was soft yet, the resentment behind it, wasn't concealed as good as he thought.

"Thanks. You... seemed a wonderful dad."  He looked your way, the frowning face so ever present, but it melted for a second .

"If you ever need-"

"We'll be fine. I've got this." His eyes seized you one final time, before casting them away from your form, and focused on the screens behind him. The AI guiding you through the building, neither of you looking back.

----------

Sorry if this feels odd or weird. I felt the urge to contribute to the bandwagon of our beloved Miguel ❤️✨

___

Por dios, eres un hipócrita*  - My God you are such a hypocrite.

Incluyéndote*- Including you.

coño* - Latin American Spanish slang for "Fuck"

[kanpaeki]

acai bowl - dominic fike x reader

gif belongs to @catrawrites, i believe! thank you. this was requested. 846 words, we're slowly gettin' up there. this was not proofread, my bad. just wanna get this out. love y'all <3333

warnings: slightly nsfw.

x

being with dominic from the beginning wasn't easy. there was always someone in your ear telling you that he was always going to end up back in jail and that he was no good; that moving on was the best option for you. but you were stubborn, you couldn't find it in yourself to give up on him. on your relationship. he'd done too much for you with what little he had at the time. visits as often as you could, putting money on the phone when you could, you stuck it out with him. for him. you couldn't imagine leaving him when he needed you most.

and those 'friends' that tried to tell you to leave him, boy were they embarrassed now. not that you bragged about it, but when he got you those prada shoes you'd been eyeing, you couldn't help but wear them any opportunity that people would see them. you couldn't help it. you were proud. he worked so hard. he was handed so many bad cards but he was determined to get a full house and he was successful. he promised you this, promised his family this, promised himself this. he deserved every good thing headed his way.

waking up with him was so sweet. the way the sun peeked through the shades, just enough to have sunbeams hitting his tan skin that you fawned over. tattooed beautifully with things that meant the most to him. his lanky self tangled with you, limbs absolutely everywhere. he took up all the space in the bed damn near, but you didn't care.

you'd spent the last night on a flight to florence, italy to be with him. things weren't good when he left and he spent most of his travelling trying to make things right, texting and calling whenever he had signal or wifi. it wasn't a big issue but you know he felt bad and was just trying to make sure you were okay. so when he offered to fly you out, you took the next few days off of work using your pto to go spend time with him. as soon as you touched down, he was there to hug you and take you all in as if he hadn't seen you in days. you'd worn his favorite sundress on you. it was comfortable enough for the plane so you figured why not.

"i packed two of your favorite wines. did you make any plans?" you had grinned up at the boy, who just nodded his head. his eyes were shimmering with happiness and he buried himself in you, wrapping his long arms around you. in your skin, he muttered a soft 'yeah,' to which you responded, "look at you thinking ahead."

just eight hours ago, he whisked you away to the rental car and drove through the streets of florence, holding your hand every moment he could. eventually, he decided to park and walked you through the stores and gift shops he wanted you to see, treating you to everything you didn't have the heart to ask for. but he knew you well, watching for your eyes to widen at a bag or a pair of shoes. you got matching italian charm bracelets and dined at the best pizzeria you think you've ever been to before you made it back to the villa he was staying in, your feet so sore.

you were tired last night but you knew the last bit of energy would be spent in the bed with dominic. he undressed quickly but he took his time with you, kissing the skin as he gently pulled you free from your sundress and undergarments. he treated you first, going down on you with very clear intentions. he apologized again and again as he made you writhe underneath him, making you forget you had ever fought with him before the trip. ending the night with him inside you was the best part of it all, no matter what he had bought you hours before. looking into those brown eyes while you both used each other, bodies as close as possible. even once you had both reached your highs, he stayed inside you and you fell asleep that way.

hair a mess on the pillow, you brushed your face free of the strands, blinking your eyes and looking over at dom, gently patting his arm to wake him up. he blinked and buried himself in you further, making you chuckle and manuever yourself so you were facing him. kissing his shoulder down to his collarbone, nipping at the tender skin with your teeth, he groaned at your touch.

"thank you," was all you muttered, hands running down his side, across his waist and resting on his back. he kissed into your neck, humming softly before his breath slowly evened out and you knew he was asleep again. he made sure you were taken care of, even when you didn't ask for it and you made sure he knew you appreciated it. he was yours, no which way about it.

[rhadamanthes]

Private lesson. Hiromi x reader

word count : 1,6k

warnings: established relationship, piano sex, soft sex, fingering, humping, fluff, pregnancy kink, lot of pet names, breeding kink, doggy style, slight oral sex, this is soooo soft omg i can't believe it, fluff fluff fluff.

"Mimi, look there's even a piano!" you squeal, dragging him toward it by his hand.

"Yes, it's nice baby" he chuckles following behind.

Hiromi, your boyfriend rented a hotel room for the night. For the past few weeks he's been working on a big case for his law firm and he finally finished it yesterday. You threw him a little surprise party with a few of his friends when he came home. He was happy but also told you that he wanted you to relax as you supported him through it: hence the hotel room. The sun is setting, giving the luxurious room a nice orange hue. 

"Before we order food and champagne let's give the room an inspection" you chirp excitedly, intertwining his arms with yours. Going through every room you praise the decoration claiming you want the same back home. In the bathroom you are ecstatic over the golden claw foot tub and all the products laying there. 

"Oh my god mimi can I take these back home? they're so cute" You say grabbing the miniature soaps and shampoo. 

"Let me check their policy first, yeah?" he laughs, rubbing your back softly.

"Avoiding me jail time? you're the perfect boyfriend!" you purr pressing a kiss over his cheek, he leans into the kiss pressing his nose on top of your head inhaling your scent. 

Going back to the living area you still can't believe there is a  grand piano in the room. Taking a seat on the large bench you pat the spot next to you inviting him to join. 

"Play me something" you ask with a dopey smile. Hiromi sits close to you nudging your thigh with his own.

"As you wish" he grins, focusing on the tiles. He extends his fingers and lets them move graciously on the white ivory. The sound coming from them is nothing offbeat like you thought, it's actually harmonious and  you recognize  "Sea of love" . You open your mouth in awe, not aware of this hidden talent. 

"Whaaaaat, Hiromi ! I didn't know you played piano, why didn't you tell me!" you gasp, hitting his shoulder lightly. 

"Well it never came up in the conversation and it would have felt like bragging" he answers with honesty.

"Who cares, this is so cool ! Teach me a few tricks" you say excitedly clapping your hands. 

"Ok" he laughs. His hands cross your shoulder to hover each of your hands, then place a warm kiss on your shoulder "You're ready?" he asks in a deep voice. 

The proximity makes you shiver as he's almost talking in your ear. Pursing your lips you nod your head.His fingers guide Yours over the tiles. You really try your best but you're not used to stretching your fingers like that, Hiromi guides you as best as he can with his own fingers being above yours but it ends up sounding messy. You both laugh at the broken melody. 

Taking a moment to really look at him you get lost in his dark eyes, his hair is combed backward but some stray strands graze his forehead, his nose, god, his nose. You like to trace it with your fingertips when he's asleep, when he's busy but still allow you in his lap, it's one of his most beautiful features, really. Beyond his good looks, he's a selfless person, he makes you feel safe, heard and more loved than you ever felt. Feeling your eyes on him, Hiromi feels the heat cripping up his cheek in a pinkish tone. You kiss him before he can say anything. A passionate kiss to show how much you care for him and how proud of him you are. 

His fingers that were hovering yours are now intertwined with each other he squeezes them as he moans into the kiss.Biting on his lips you let your tongue enter his mouth twirling it against his. Out of breath he breaks the kiss.

"I love you" you whispers looking in his eyes

"I love you too darling" he wastes no time answering.You feel butterflies in your stomach, smiling like a fool.

"Where were we ?" you giggle refocusing back on the piano.Lifting you from your spot, Hiromi helps you up on his lap. 

"It will be easier like that, don't you think, doll?" he asks, kissing the back of your shoulder. You nod your head and place your finger once more on the tiles. 

With a few tries you manage to make it sound less catastrophic but there's definitely room for improvement. Hiromi takes off his right hand from yours.

"You got this one right, let's focus on the other hm?" he asks, resting his free hand on your belly, tracing circles on it. His hands progressively go lower until it's tucked against your pussy. You're only wearing a skirt with stockings, you can feel the heat his skin radiates. You adjust yourself on his lap in an attempt to get some friction against your clit.

"Teacher, what are you doing ?" you tease.

"Giving you an encouragement, get the left hand right and you'll have a reward." 

You hum, grinding a few times against his crotch feeling a slight bulge. The pressure he applies on your cunt makes it hard for you to focus, you start to moan incoherently, vision blurring with the need to feel him all over you growing by the second. 

"What's wrong my dear ? you don't want to play anymore" he whispers in your ear biting at your skin. You just groan, grinding on him harder. "Hands on the frame." 

You oblige, grabbing your ankle he positions your knees on the bench. Understanding where he's idea is going, you arch your back to stick your ass out. glancing back at him with a sultry look. Never taking his eyes off you, Hiromi lifts your skirt, and slides down your panties. He chuckles a bit at how the piece of cloth sticks to your wet pussy. You groan as the cold air hits your private part. Hiromi smiles, petting your rump before spreading your folds with two of his slender fingers. 

"My pretty little pussy"he coos, kissing your entrance softly. you moan resting your head on the cold varnished wood. He licks at your clit a few times dipping his major and ring finger inside of you. 

"Mimi please fuck me" you beg feeling your palms sweating on the frame of the piano.

"Sure thing" he says curling his fingers one last time, making you shiver.

He spreads your legs wider on the bench and you feel his tip teasing your entrance. You back your ass on him to feel him inside, both of you moaning in the process. Gripping on your sides, Hiromi thrusts into your gummy walls, squeezing him in. His cock makes you feel full and he reaches deeper and deeper as he keeps fucking into you but it's not enough. Grabbing his tie you yank it toward you, needing him as close as possible. Surprised by your sudden move, Hiromi let one of his hands fly to the keys so he doesn't crush you under his weight. The disoriented sound steals a laugh from you, locking his lips with his in a heated kiss. His nail digs in your side, you know that I'll leave the mark you like. 

Hiromi gets lost in the feeling of you as always. It's your scent, the way your skin feels under his, the way you desire him and don't hide, your voice. Fuck it's you. From the day he first saw you he knew it was always going to be you. Pulling his tie incredibly closer, you thrust your ass back on his dick needing always more. A familiar knot forms in your belly, you want to cum in sync with him so badly. 

"Hiromi I love you" you say out of breath, tears menacing to rise at any moment. His brows furrowed his cheeks a light shade of pink, a few beads of sweat forming on his forehead.His pace accelerates and you can feel your legs give up under his powerful thrusts.

"Shit, I love you too baby" he says, calling your name between hushered breaths. "My angel, i'm going to put a ring on your finger" he groans "a-and make you a mom" His dick twitches at his own word. You're not better than him, clamping hard on his cock.

"Hiromi please yes!" you beg "Fuck, can't wait to see you with a swollen belly and tits full of milk" he pant keeping up his pace. 

A few more thrust and you cum undone reaching your climax. Hiromi follows you soon after, shooting all of his cum inside of you. Your body slumps on the piano producing hitting various keys and you can't help but laugh again. Hiromi's back shakes behind you laughing silently. Catching his breath Hiromi sits both your bodies on the bench and makes you face him. He caresses your hair, kissing your temple in a comfortable silence. 

"Were you serious about what you said ?" you ask in a weak voice, scared that he said these things in the heat of the moment.  Encasing your face with his hands, he makes you look at him.

"A hundred percent serious, the rest of my life is with you" he says pressing the back of your hands to his lips. The tears well up in your eyes. 

"We're getting married?" you ask cheerfully. 

"Yes my love" he smiles, kissing your hand once more. 

Overjoyed you lock your arms behind his neck and squeeze him in a deep kiss. This is the beginning of a long night after all. 

[cannedapricot]

the deal. || ldh

in which you never wanted to ask your stupid neighbor for help in chasing your dream man - but desperate times call for desperate measures - even if that meant giving lee donghyuck the satisfaction of parking his car in your spot.

word count: 3.5k

genre, warnings: fluff at the end, smidge of angst, slice of life, neighbor!au, high school!au, one sided enemies to lovers, mistaking admiration for love, very romcom movie there's a kiss in the rain scene somewhere in here, mark lee is in the same grade as the 00s for plot purposes, underage drinking, profanities

bgm: hits different by taylor swift, can i call you tonight? by dayglow, disaster by conan gray, i like me better by lauv, kiss goodnight by i dont know how but they found me

a/n: i read better than the movies and the whole time i was thinking "you know who this trope would look good on? hyuck." and thus this was birthed. there's a another neighbor!au in my drafts but the brainrot has taken over i'm afraid.

A proud grin, the tinkling of his keys, an annoying strut. These were all the qualities Lee Donghyuck sported in this very moment as he climbs out of his car. Perfectly parallel parked in the spot outside your house.

If only you were rich. You'd run your stupid neighbor over in a heartbeat then pay the bail to get out of jail. Instead, you wear a scowl reserved especially for the boy, click your tongue, and park a good five minute walk away.

Technically, the parking spot was between your house and the Lees next door. But technically, the spot was 60% on your side, and 40% on theirs. So technically, shouldn't that spot be yours? Why was your shit head of a neighbor adamantly trying to feud with you?

The five minute walk, lovingly dubbed the "walk of shame" by both you and your sworn enemy, would be a lovely three minute walk home - if not for the Kims on the corner who loved starting conversations with whoever passed by. On a good day, you would get away with two minutes of conversation ("Oh sorry Mrs. Kim, I have an assignment I just must get to."). Other days? You weren't so lucky.

"Four minutes? I think that might be a new record." Donghyuck gloats, leaning against his car.

"You were timing me?" You glare at his casual demeanor, wondering how he could possibly be so insufferable.

"Well, I have to know what I'm up against."

You snort, passing by the boy waving his keys around like a trophy, making sure your middle finger was up and in sight.

"Jealousy is a disease, babe." He sings as you slam the door shut behind you.

He really was insufferable.

You should've known.

When you agreed to go to Liu Yangyang's party on the condition that someone drive you, you would've thought he would send someone like Jaemin or Jeno - the duo that always seemed to be the assigned sober drivers. Looking back, you were naïve.

You should've known he'd send your neighbor.

Thus, leads you to the present. Lee Donghyuck in your kitchen, chatting up your mother while you hurriedly try to find your jacket before said mother gets any more charmed by the kid next door.

Truth be told, you were close to not going to the party at all. But then you caught wind that he'd be there and it'd be silly not to grab hold of any chance you could have to impress him.

Donghyuck watches you move around out of the corner of his eye and when you started to move towards the door, he knew you were ready. But he'd spend extra long bidding your mom farewell, just so you'd wait a few minutes longer. He always liked keeping you waiting.

"I never took you for a house partier." Donghyuck comments when the two of you enter his car. "Stop checking yourself out in the mirror, you look the same as always."

You flip the sun visor back up with a scoff. What's wrong with making sure your hair was laying the way you wanted it?

"I never thought you'd agree to drive me to a house party."

"What can I say? I love giving back to the community."

It was a mystery to you how Donghyuck was so beloved around both the town and school. He was sarcastic, petty, and most importantly, constantly went against you. Perhaps everyone was blinded by his attractiveness? He did have a pretty face.

"I get that my face is attractive, but you don't have to look so hard. I think you're staring holes into my lovely cheek."

Correction, he had a pretty face when his mouth was shut.

It was loud, you could feel the bass pumping through your body. Drunk teenagers littered the floor of Yangyang's suburban house, bouncing to the beat and having the time of their lives. Swerving through the crowd of bodies, you picked up on bits of gossip you were sure you weren't supposed to hear. But by the end of the night, you were sure you would've forgotten about whatever scandal Shotaro from biology got into anyway.

Somehow still together, you and your neighbor find the host mixing unidentifiable liquids together in a red solo cup on the kitchen counter.

"Yang, is that poison or alcohol?"

"How dare you, it's called "a good time.""

He offers you the cup, which you turn down. You know how drunk Yangyang likes to get at his parties. Therefore, you know that one sip of whatever was in that cup could probably send you to ER. And you refused to go to ER without at least getting one glance of your dream man.

A quick scan of the room told you that he wasn't here, at least, not within your radius.

"No alcohol for me tonight. I have to drive this one back."

You raised an eyebrow as Donghyuck declines Yangyang's "special blend".

"How responsible." You tease.

"Only because you're here. I don't want you dying at my hands." He counters, leaning back and meeting your gaze, smirk on his lips. "How would I ever face your mother again?"

"Yo, Haechan, dude, you finally made it." A familiar voice sounds.

Enter, Mark Lee. Star athlete, every teacher's favorite student, adorably awkward, and your crush of two months. You swore he had this glow around him that made everything he does so endearing, even when he accidentally sent a basketball flying to your head once.

"Oh, hey Y/N. Didn't know you were coming as well."

"Yeah! I came with Donghyuck! Well, not with him but he was my ride here and will be my ride home so-"

You really had to do something about your nervous rambling in front of Mark.

Mark stayed for a small conversation with your little group before someone hurled on Yangyang's bathroom tiles, not making it to the toilet in time. The host (grumbling about how he just cleaned it yesterday) went to sort it out, your crush in tow.

You stare fondly at his back disappearing into the crowd before you feel a hot breath on your neck.

"No way. You like Mark Lee."

The car ride home was painful for you. Despite your attempts to bargain with him the whole party so he would shut up, the boy behind the wheel spends the whole ten minute drive teasing you like an elementary schooler instead. The song about kissing in a tree involved.

"What is it about him that you like?" Donghyuck asks, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Why? So you can hold it against me for the rest of my life?"

"Wow, I'm offended. Who do you take me for? I would never."

You raise an unbelieving eyebrow at him, only to be met by his side profile in the moonlight. The silver light beams against his features and you only just realize the constellation of stars on his cheek. The light at the intersection flashes red and the car smooths to a stop, Donghyuck turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Shit, isn't this kind of intimate?

"Fuck off." You cough out, swiveling your head to look out the window instead. "Eyes on the road, Lee."

"I'm a Lee, but not the Lee you want." He exclaims, following it with an overly dramatic sob.

Keeping a steady stare out the window, you try to calm your reeling mind. Eyes on the prize, Y/N.

The prize being Mark Lee, of course.

Speaking of which.

"Donghyuck, you're friends with Mark right?"

"Depends. Are you going to ask me to help you get with him?"

You sit up in your seat and make your best possible attempt at puppy dog eyes, "please? I wouldn't ask if I didn't have a choice."

It was true, begging Donghyuck was the last thing you ever wanted to do. But you weren't getting anywhere by yourself and they were friends so surely that could help your case? At least he could tell you what type of person Mark liked? Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Your neighbor goes silent, presumably thinking about this suggestion. "What would I get in return though?"

Of course he wasn't just going to help you for nothing. So you rack your brains for something you'd be willing to exchange.

The car turns into your familiar neighborhood, passing Mrs Kim's house. And as the car pulls into the parking spot in front of your house, you spill out, "I'll give you the parking spot."

Donghyuck's eyebrows go up at this suggestion and his signature smirk makes it's way back onto his face. He leans his arm against the back of your seat and you instinctively lean back, fighting the urge to wipe that stupid grin off him.

"You're willing to take the "walk of shame" everyday for him?"

You click your tongue, "the parking space. Take it or leave it."

He leans back, mouth still curved up. The distance lets you release a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"You make a compelling argument."

"Well?"

"Deal."

You give him a nod, moving to exit the car and crawl back into the comfortable sheets of your bed, but Donghyuck's hand on your arm stops you. In confusion, you look back at him.

"I'm not fake dating you though."

"Hyuck, this isn't "To All the Boys I've Loved Before". I would rather die than fake date you."

The corners of his lips quirk up into a smile - not a smirk - at his nickname. "Hyuck?"

"I'm going home."

True to his word, for the next couple of weeks Donghyuck actively played a part in nudging you and Mark together. However, as much as he tried to create chances for you and your crush to be alone, your habit of nervous rambling when making conversation didn't help at all. It's not your fault Mark has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. Though, somewhere in the back of your mind lingers a mischievous pair that glimmered the same way stars twinkled that night he drove you home.

Ever since making the "Making Mark Lee Y/N's Boyfriend" pact with your neighbor, you've been spending a lot more time together than you've ever had in the past. Admittingly, you've been enjoying it.

When did you last laugh as hard as you did when he attempted to step over the fence separating your houses? ("I can do it, my legs are long enough. Watch.") The boy ended up stuck with one leg half over and the other dangling off and because he looked ridiculous, you ended up on the soft grass of your backyard, tears in the corners of your eyes as you laughed.

When was the last time you felt comfortable enough with a person to share your deepest insecurities with each other in the dead of the night? Texting him nothing but a sad emoji as the clock hits 3am, receiving a response almost immediately - "Can I call you?". Talking about your ambitions, dreams, and fears until the sun rose above the horizon and you both realized you had school in an hour.

That didn't mean you liked him or anything though, right?

You liked Mark.

Or so you thought.

Maybe?

Fuck. How dare Donghyuck confuse you like this.

Sometimes, you wonder how things turn out. How the smallest choices can lead you down a whole new path entirely. And how they all led to Lee Donghyuck currently being sprawled on his stomach on your bed, legs swinging in the air.

Right. You had a date with the other Lee. The one you allegedly had a crush on. Well, it wasn't a date per se. It was more of a one on one friendly hangout? Donghyuck had gotten movie tickets for both him and Mark - then ditched the day before and said you would go in his place. It was kind of genius.

"Okay, would Mark like this color better than the blue?" You ask, clothes strewn across the floor. A good chunk of your day had been spent digging through your closet looking for clothes you think Mark would like. Your neighbor couldn't care less about your crisis. He barely spared a glance up at you before he returned to whatever he was looking at on his phone.

"Looks good."

"Donghyuck, I need you to keep up your half of the deal."

The boy finally gives you his attention. Pulling himself up so that he's sitting on the edge on your bed, staring straight at you.

"Shouldn't you want him to like you as you are? There's no point doing all this-" He gestures to the mess, "-just to impress him. I think you'd look nice even if you chose to wear your pajamas out."

"But he doesn't like me. Not yet at least. That's why I have you to help me."

"...Right."

The atmosphere suddenly becomes stuffy. You wonder if you said the wrong thing because suddenly, the boy next door is leaving. It's not surprising given that the both of you spent half a day going through your wardrobe and he probably had things to do. But, you just can't shake the uneasy feeling.

"Hey, are we good? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, we're good. Good luck." Donghyuck says at your door, a smile unlike any of the previous ones you've seen gracing his face. It seemed forced.

A faint pitter patter of rain hitting the window panes sounds through the quiet room.

You hope he made it home without getting wet.

"Man, I didn't know you liked Spiderman too."

"Mmhm."

You made it to the theatres with Mark. You enjoyed watching the movie with Mark. You were getting driven home by Mark. You had a great time with your crush. So why was your mind still on a certain situation and a certain someone from before.

"My other friends all watched it on a day I got called into work so I was surprised when Haechan was willing to re-watch it with me - he's usually not that nice, you know?"

The edges of your mouth lift a little at the dig at Donghyuck. In front, the windshield wipers squeak a little, trying their best to rid the glass of rain droplets. The radio plays an old song in the background that Mark hums softly to, thumbs tapping in time on the wheel while waiting for the lights to turn green. It was cozy, but could never measure up to how intimate you felt in the car with Donghyuck.

"Then he dips last minute. Honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. I was more surprised that you were coming instead though - I thought you would've wanted to watch it with Haechan."

Your brows furrow. "Why?"

"Oh - I thought you liked him."

The world around you stopped. Though the light turned green and the car was definitely moving now, you felt your entire body freeze.

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

Mark's confusion showed on his face, his emotions always did. That was one of the things you liked about him. Or so, you thought.

"Well, for starters, you're much more comfortable around him. I don't know if that's just because you always tense up when I'm around. I'm sorry if I've done anything to make you uncomfortable by the way, it was never my intention."

Mark Lee, your supposed crush, thought you were uncomfortable around him. You lean your head against the window of his car, it was nice and cool. Perfect as you let yourself ponder.

You always were unnecessarily nervous around him - but wasn't that normal? You liked him. You liked his smile, how he was able to win the favors of everyone around him so easily, how he was always reliable, how good he was at sports- oh.

It was never romantic.

You didn't know anything about Mark. You never even had a proper conversation with him. What he liked to do in his spare time, what his plan was for the future, what stupid habit he has, what he sounds like over the phone at 3am. You had no idea.

But you knew what Donghyuck liked to do in his spare time, what he wanted to do in the future, what his stupid habit was, what he sounded like over the phone at 3am.

Fuck.

And it all came rushing to you all at once.

The prize was always something shiny, blazing, and brilliant. It was something you wanted but would put on a shelf to admire. Mark Lee was your prize. Someone you admired. He was never someone you imagined having debates with for the rest of your life. He was never someone you imagined spending rainy days indoors together with.

Perhaps, after all this time, the prize wasn't what you were after. Perhaps, what you really wanted was to spend time with-

"No way."

"Hm?"

"I like Lee Donghyuck."

Your admiration for Mark was a luminous, fleeting feeling that you mistook for love. Love was never about having to dress like a different person to impress them. Love was laughing together at the smallest things, showing up in two week old pajamas and still thinking they're the most beautiful being you've laid eyes on, and sometimes, love was fighting over a parking spot outside your house.

Mark grins. "Great. He's been in love with you since third grade."

"What?'

"Why do you think he's never dated before? All this time, he's been waiting for you to realize."

"I'm glad we got closer today," Mark mentions, pulling onto your street, "you seem a lot more comfortable now."

Yeah, because you no longer thought Mark was your dream man. A weight was taken off your shoulders now and you didn't feel the need to keep up an act around him anymore.

"Thanks for today."

"Hey dude, no worries. Just let me know if you need any help wooing Haechan alright? I love helping couples get together."

"...Didn't you try before with two other couples?"

"...Yeah... They didn't turn out how I thought they would."

The two of you share a laugh before you clamber out of his vehicle and wave him goodbye from your porch. The rain had started pouring down from the grey skies but your fingers hesitate at your door.

Fuck it.

Instead of walking into your warm and dry house, you decide to brave the rain and run over to your neighbor's, splashing through the puddles without care. It soaked the clothes you spent forever deciding on and ruined your meticulously done hair, but urgent times call for urgent measures.

Two knocks and the door swings open, revealing the boy next door behind. His eyes widen at the sight of you taking heaving breaths on his doorstep, hair and clothes complete wet and still getting pelted on by the rain.

"Did he hurt you?"

The urge to laugh bubbles through you. He was always putting you first. All this time, he was helping you chase another man. He was ready to give up on his chance with you if that meant you had a chance of being happy with someone else. Even now, after you'd hurt him, he was still worried about you.

"Lee Donghyuck, I'm in love with you."

For a while, everything's silent. Even the rain fell mute on your ears. All you could see was your rival's jaw open in shock and his Adams apple bobbing up and down trying to find the words to say. It was quite a satisfying view.

Then you start rambling as panic settles in. The need to apologize for hurting him, how you actually felt about Mark, how you found out about your feelings. Old habits die hard.

Except, not even a full sentence into your unplanned speech, Donghyuck steps out of his house, into the rain, and cuts you off with his warm, soft lips on yours. You stumble back, not expecting the sudden weight on you, and the two of you fall back onto the wet, cold grass on his front yard.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that."

His face was as close to yours as physically possible, eyes gazing lovingly over your features, wanting to soak every second of this moment in.

"Let me guess, since third grade?"

"I knew Mark couldn't be trusted."

Laughter claims you both before you pull him in by the collar for another kiss. There were grass stains on your clothes, it was cold and muddy, and the two of you will definitely end up with a cold the next day, but somehow, in that moment, you felt as though the world was yours.

"I kept my end of the deal."

"What do you mean?"

"You ended up getting a boyfriend with the name "Lee". I think that means I get the parking spot."

You smile.

"I'd happily do the walk of shame for you."

[lynaferns]

Biomáquina AU

(do not ship my character)

(Edit: sorry, I forgot to add the colorless ver. too)

Probably going to redesign, I didn't have a clear idea of how I wanted them to look like when I made this.

So basically, I had an idea one day for an artwork about Sun in a big dark room like lab with computers, science stuff... and plushies, toys, crayons, childlike drawings everywhere and in the middle of the room Sun was sitting there with cables conected to his head and going so high to the ceiling they desapeared in the dark.

Vague recreation of the idea (I used it as a warm up because artblock)

And I was like, man what a cool idea.

...

what if it had lore?

And I made the story in two days and forgot about it.

I made THE STORY in two days, the concept art took me several and when it was finished I went 'OH FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT MOON' so I added him to the concept art... and to the story, which didn't change much but helped.

So the story lore whatever frankly idk:

Retrofuturistic world where Fazbear Entertainment is making experiments in animatronics with a sustance that makes inorganic components organic. Basically making the animatronics far more alive than they could ever have been (literally alive, like in a messed up way). Biological machines, for example: in the concept of Sun/Moon those teeth and eyes are pretty much real...

This would be called Biotecnologic, which is illegal to practice without a licence and state permision, and only for human benefit (prostetics for disable people for exsample). Fazbear Entertainment had to drop the project right the moment biotecnologi went illegal or they were going to jail. Which means now there are abandonet facilitys with a ton of disconected rotten animatronics... Except for one that turned back on for some reason...

Some time later, this idiot named Fern (selfinsert because idk how to do y/n so I toke my selfinsert and made a few changes, same name) who illegaly exited the city to illegaly dumspter dive in trash the goverment trows out of the city and into the nature outside (which prevents the world from healing right because they are dumb), went a little fared than they usually go and ended up finding the abandonet facilitys of Fazbear Entertainment. This idiot said 'haha cool :D' and went right inside. And that's how they met Sun (and Moon) who has amnesia and doesn't know why the place is empty or why this new person who knows nothing about is stealing lab equipament while intensely staring at him.

They got to be friends and started investigating the place trying to find out what happened in there before the project got canceled.

And a lot more but my brain is a little fried right now and it took me some effort to write this.

Feel free to ask me about this AU (I'll do my best to give a comprehensible answer).

[thetriumphantpanda]

Howdy Charlie 🤠 l have been enjoying these new fic releases from you. You’re amazing and I love reading your work at the end of the day to unwind.

I’m not in a hurry as I’ve read you’re taking a break but if you do get inspired to write again, can I please request

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜ & ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

Pre-outbreak where reader does something that causes a huge fight with Joel and they ignore each other for days then reader thinks it’s the end of their relationship so she packs her bag to leave without a word but Joel comes home earlier than expected and stops her and they get into another fight before reconciling and he shows his sweeter side to make up to her . Can you make it EXTREMELY angsty and a lil fluffy in the end.

Thank you! 😘

Anon, when I say that I've had this fic sitting in my drafts FOR WEEKS I'm not even lying. I absolutely loved this prompt but idk I couldn't make it seem right... I've done my best, I really hope you enjoy it! I'm just on my Joel Miller bullshit atm, don't judge me.

Pairing | Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | Some angst, some fluff, mentions of alcohol, mean!Joel at one point, SMUT - oral (f receiving) no use of y/n and I think that's it.

Main Masterlist

There was something about Joel Miller that had you smitten from the start. Maybe it was the fact that he was so different to the stupid college boys you’d been wasting your time with, or maybe it was the fact that he was devastatingly handsome, or the fact that whenever you were together, he would make it his mission to make you come enough times that you forgot your name before he even thought about taking pleasure for himself. Whatever it was he was different, and you were pretty sure you loved him. 

He'd barreled into your life headfirst a few months ago. Your car had given up the ghost on a small country road and you had no cell service to call a recovery. There had been a moment of dread when his truck had pulled up behind yours, this is how so many girls died in those documentaries you’d watched, but when he stepped out of his truck and that Southern drawl had hit your ears, you thought that even if he was going to murder you and leave you in a ditch, you wouldn’t mind all that much. Got you out of finishing your thesis if nothing else. 

“You stranded, sugar?” He’d called out, keeping his distance enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to try anything stupid. 

“Yeah,” You called back, “I have no idea what’s wrong with it and there’s no cell service.”

“You want me to take a look?” 

“You a mechanic?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly, but I’m good with my hands.” 

The innuendo isn’t lost on either of you, you smirk but give him a signal to look at your car. He pops the hood and takes a few minutes to look around, “Was it steaming when you pulled over?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You admit. 

“Looks like it’s just overheated, sugar,” He muses, “Not much to do but sit and wait for it to cool down a little,” You pull a face at the thought of having to sit in your car without the air con, “I don’t got anywhere to be so you can sit in my truck with me for a bit?” He offers, “The air-con is on.” He adds, sweetening the deal. 

So you do. You sit with him for an hour, talking about your master’s programme and how stressed you are with your thesis. He talks about his work, bailing his brother out of jail for the second time that week and his daughter Sarah. When the sun starts to set, he jumps out of his truck to inspect your engine again, deeming it safe to drive. 

“Well, thanks,” You say as you sit in the driver’s seat and start the engine up, “Literally don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for you.” 

“You’d have let it sit, tried turning the key a little while later and been fine,” He chuckles, “But you’re welcome, it was nice meetin’ you.” 

“Joel-” You call as he tries to walk away, “Can I maybe buy you a drink to say thank you?” 

He turns around and smirks at you, “You askin’ me on a date?” 

“Would you say yes if I was?” You arch an eyebrow at him. 

“I’d be a fool not to, sugar.” 

It’s cliché for you to say but the rest really was history. You’d bought him a drink to say thank you a few days later, he’d bought you more because he liked your company. You’d snuck him into your room a few hours after that, managing to dash past the kitchen where your housemates were having dinner, where he’d spent an hour knelt between your legs, lapping at your pussy and then fucked you better than anyone had ever done in your life. 

It was summer break now. Sarah was away at camp for a few weeks, your thesis finally done and submitted. Joel had suggested that you stay with him, he’d mumbled something about it being nice not having to sneak around to see each other and you had to admit he was right. Waking up next to him with streams of sunlight illuminating his face, that was priceless. Making him breakfast before he went to work, domesticated but you loved it. 

It had been two weeks of that, with another one still to come before Sarah came home and you had to go back to the small room in your shared apartment. One of your friends had invited you out on Saturday night – a way for you all to celebrate being done with studies. You’d planned to go back to Joel’s that night, he’d even given you money for the cab ride home – but one too many tequila shots and a dead cell phone later, you’d been led back to your apartment by your friends, plugged your phone in to charge and promptly fallen asleep. 

When you’d woken up the next morning there was dread in your stomach, reading through the texts from Joel last night. Ten missed calls and texts that read where r u and please let me know ur safe. 

You dressed as quickly as you could, grabbing your phone and keys before you called a cab to pick you up. You knew you’d fucked up. You wanted to call him, let him know you were okay, but this was something you’d have to do face to face. It took far longer to get to Joel’s, Sunday morning traffic proving a challenge as you left the city and headed for the suburbs. You took a deep breath as you fit his spare key into the door and opened it. 

“Where the fucking hell have you been?” He asks when you shut the door and put your keys on the side table, “I’ve been worried sick about you all night.” 

“I’m sorry Joel,” You mumble, you really were, “We got carried away and then my phone died, and my housemates just dragged me back to my apartment, I was just going to charge my phone a little and then come back here but I must have fallen asleep.” 

“You didn’t think to use that landline’a yours?” He was sat on the couch, but he’d turned his body towards you in the doorway, he was pissed. 

“I’m sorry Joel, okay, it was a stupid mistake, what more do you want me to say?” 

“I gave you money to get home, told you to tell someone to remind you that’s where you were going, what were you thinking goin’ out and gettin’ so drunk you couldn’t remember where you were going home?!” 

“Don’t you dare make this out like I was outta control!” You counter, “I was safe Joel, I was with my friends, I’m not fucking stupid.” 

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He’s standing now, taking steps towards you. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Should’a fuckin’ known,” He says, mostly to himself, “Don’t think about anyone but yourself, silly little girl.” 

His words cut through you like a knife. He’d never once made you feel like this. Despite the ten-year age gap you’d always seemed like his equal. Not now, now you felt small and insignificant. 

“You are losing my interest and that’s very dangerous.” Is all he says next.

“Fuck you Joel Miller,” You spit at him, reaching for your keys, “You think you’re doing me a favour? Letting me stay in your nice big house playing families? All you wanted was a fucking maid the way you’ve been behaving.” 

You’re out of the door, slamming it behind you and pulling your car out of his driveway in record time. You make it to the end of the round and a little way around the corner before you have to pull over and sob into your hands. 

*

Four days. Four miserable fucking days and he hadn’t even bothered to text you. You’d moped around in your room for the first twenty-four hours. Then your housemate had practically forced herself in because she thought you’d died. You’d cried to her about how unfair it was, then she’d made you sit on the couch, drink too much wine and watch shitty reruns. 

If it had been four days and he hadn't bothered to message, then it really must be over, right? You led in bed that morning running through all the things you’d left at his house that you really did need back. You still had the spare key, and you knew he’d be at work until later this evening, so you push yourself out of the tangle of sheets, get dressed and make the drive over. 

Thankfully when you arrive his truck is nowhere to be seen. Definitely at work then. You open the front door, closing it behind you softly. You take a moment when you step in to remember all the times you’d been happy here. The time you’d helped him make Sarah’s birthday cake, or the time you’d snuggled up under the blanket together on the sofa and fallen asleep watching a movie. The time he’d hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter and eaten you out like it was his last meal. Or the time you’d not made it up the stairs and he’d fucked you from behind halfway up the steps. Tears pricked at your eyes. Foolish. Silly Little Girl, thinking he might be the one, just like he’d said. 

You wiped angrily at your eyes and made your way up the stairs to his room, trying to block out the shiver down your spine as you thought of the long nights and lazy mornings you’d spent wrapped up in his bed. You find your duffle bag in the bottom of his wardrobe, you set it on the bed and start pulling clothes from his drawers, shoving them as quickly as you can into the bag. 

You’re setting a bottle of perfume into it when you hear a key in the door. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the days he could come home for lunch, it had to be this one. 

“Sugar?” You hear him tentatively call from downstairs. 

He won’t get the satisfaction, you think, you won't talk to him, just get your things and leave. You hurry to gather the last of your belongings, hoping you can just leave, when you hear his work boots on the stairs.

You’re fighting with the zip on the bag when the door creaks behind you, “Hey, I was calling you.” 

“I heard.” You reply. 

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

You groan in frustration when the zip catches and refuses to move, “What does it look like, Joel?” You hiss, “I’m packing my stuff so I can be outta your hair like you want.” 

“I don’t want that.” Is all he says. 

“Well you’re doing a fucking good impression of it,” You turn to him, “You don’t call me, you don’t message me, you call me a silly little girl, but you want to keep me around?!” 

“Sugar, listen to me,” He’s walking forward, gripping your arms in his hands, “I was angry, and I handled it badly, I’m just-” He falters, “I’m not used to any of this, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I didn’t mean what I said.” 

You look at him and you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes plead with you like they are now. It breaks your heart a little. 

“But you called me a silly little girl Joel,” You whimper, trying hard not to cry, “Everything you said to me hurt.” 

“I know sugar, I know.” He breaths, pulling you into his chest, “I thought if I gave you some time, we’d be able to talk, but I don’t want you to leave,” His lips brush the top of your head in a kiss, “Never want you to leave.” 

You tilt your head and press a kiss to his jawline; it had always felt like home when you were wrapped in his arms. 

“Let me make it up t’ya, sugar.” His hands are roaming down your spine and you can’t resist him anymore. 

You soften into his body, and he takes it as a yes, he tilts your chin up with one of his hands and presses a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and you let out a sigh as you wrap your arms around his neck to mold yourself closer to him. His hands are gripping at the meat of your ass as he’s walking you back towards the bed. Before he lets you fall, he grabs the forgotten bag of your belongings and tosses it to the floor, settling you to sit on the edge of the bed whilst he drops to his knees. 

His hands are pushing the skirt of your dress up to gather at your hips, his mouth leaving trails of hot kisses up one thigh and down the other. Your head drops back, and you let out a sigh when his big hands come to rest on your hips, “Can I take them off, sugar?” He asks, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. 

You look down at him and smirk, “If you want to make it up to me, I’d say it’s pretty essential.” 

He copies your smirk, “Lift up then.” 

You push down on your hands to lift your ass off the bed just enough for him to pull the lace off your skin and down your legs. You set yourself back down on the sheets but opt to stay in your sitting position, shifting your backside as close to the edge as you can without risking falling off, widening your open legs for Joel to see you. 

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He groans, leaning down to press kisses over your mound, but never once dipping low enough to give you relief. 

He knows what you want, your hips are chasing his mouth as they move around to press kisses to everywhere but your pussy. You grumble in frustration when he moves away from you, “You want my mouth on your pussy, sugar?” He asked, looking up at you like the cat that got the cream. 

“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious by now.” 

“I gotta hear you say it, sugar.” 

“Joel-” You moan, reaching out to grab a fistful of his hair, “Please put your mouth on me.”

He responds with a grin from between your legs before he licks one long stripe up the seam of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so slightly through your folds to tease your clit before he’s pulling away, “See what happens when you ask nicely?” 

You’re about to respond with something smart when he uses his fingers to spread your lips to reveal your clit, and then he’s running soft circles on it with the tip of his tongue. A guttural moan drops from your lips and your hips are bucking into his face as he continues his teasing touches with his tongue. His hands are gripping the meat of your thighs and God you want more. 

“Joel-” You moan, gripping his hair again, “Fuck, God alive I need more.” 

He pulls away from your pussy just enough to say, “What do you need, sugar?” Before he’s back to work. 

“Fu-fuck, Joel,” You’re grinding your hips into his mouth, “Fingers, please, I need your fingers.” 

You swear you can feel him smile against you, but one of his hands moves from your thighs and you feel him slip one inside of you. You’re so wet that it’s easy for him, he pulls out and when he’s pushing his fingers back into you, there’s a second, “Oh my god yes just like that.” Is all you can managed to get out. 

He’s being more forceful with his tongue now, switching between the soft teases from the tip of his tongue to full licks with the flat of it and it’s got you on the edge already. When you look down at him it’s like heaven. You can see his tongue teasing your clit and the movement of his shoulder as he pumps his fingers into you. It’s a depraved sight but one that you never want to forget. 

“Can feel you gettin’ tight around my fingers sugar,” He mumbles into your pussy, “You gonna come for me like a good girl?” 

“Yes!” You’re crying out as his fingers curl inside you into just the right spot to have spots clouding your vision, “ohmygod Joel, I’m so fucking close.” 

He knows exactly what to do from here. He’s learnt how to play your body like a fucking fiddle, and he knows it. He’s pressing his fingers so deep into your pussy, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you. Then he wraps his lips over your clit and sucks whilst his tongue is still flicking tight little circles over you, and you’re gone. 

Your head is thrown back and you’re screaming his name. Your pussy is clenching around his fingers and your whole body is convulsing as it washes over you. Joel pulls his fingers from you, and you look down to watch him lick your slick off them before he’s dipping his tongue lower and literally drinking from you. Wide stripes from his tongue from your aching entrance as he cleans up what you’ve given him. 

He pressed kisses to the inside of your thigh, and you can feel your slick on the scratch of his beard, “I really am sorry, sugar.” He says and you laugh. 

“Get up here.” You say, pulling at the neck of his t-shirt. 

He obliges, standing up briefly to kick off his work boots, before he’s gathering you up and placing your head against the pillows. He’s kissing you; you can taste yourself on his tongue as it molds into your own. 

He flops down on the bed next to you and you curl into his side, running your hands down his chest to rest on the bulge of his jeans before a yawn falls from your mouth, “Tired, sugar?” 

You nod, burying your face into his chest, “Not been sleeping.” Is all you offer in explanation. 

He presses a kiss to your temple, “Take a nap.” Is what he says, taking hold of your hand on his groin, wrapping your fingers together to rest on his stomach, “I can wait.” 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” You ask, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“I got nowhere else on earth I’d rather be, sugar.” 

[caffedrine]

Rio Ortiz - I fell in love with you that day – Choose your true love - Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

Emma is floating in a clear blue sky without a single cloud in it. Or is she falling? Just as she wonders that Emma is suddenly plunged into cold water. She struggles to reach the surface as her clothes, waterlogged and heavy, hold her back. Suddenly someone grabs her flailing hand and pulls her out of the water.

Emma takes a choking breath while simultaneously coughing out water, trying to calm down. She mentions that she almost died back there, and hears Rio admit that he was surprised to see her drowning.

Right, Rio saved her. Emma feels herself relax and finally able to calm down.

Still, what is she doing in the Benitoite palace garden? Last she remembered, she was lazing in bed with Rio, enjoying the sun in his room. But what was she doing in the courtyard pool? And why is Rio dressed so formally?

Emma thanks Rio for saving her, explaining that she’s not sure how she wound up in the pool. She apologizes for getting him wet too.

Rio tells Emma that he’s happy that she seems all right, but she seems to be confusing him for someone else. He’s not Rio, he is Valerio. Perhaps this Rio of hers looks similar? Or is she expecting to run into this ‘Rio’, though he’s certain he would remember a name like that.

Rio, or Valerio, removes his jacket and wraps it around Emma’s shoulders.

Emma is confused, what does he mean by this? Is this a weird joke, or maybe the beginning of some game? But looking at his face, Rio . . . well, Valerio looks serious.

(He just doesn't like looking at her with a see-through shirt on)

Instead of Rio’s warm sky-blue eyes, Valerio looks at her with a trace of wariness, like he did when they first met all those years ago.

Emma connects the clues and realizes that somehow she has been shuffled to the past, to a time before Rio lost his memory.

After a long moment, Valerio asks for Emma’s name and the reason why she’s here.

Emma flounders, since this is the past, she should have no reason to be in Benitoite’s palace. If she doesn’t say something fast, she’ll either be kicked out or be locked in jail.

Emma apologizes for her delayed greeting and explains that she was just hired as a new maid. She apologizes for getting lost and confused and falling into the pool. She then formally thanks him for rescuing her.

She bows formally, saying the first lie that comes to her mind. A peak up shows Rio with a hand on his chin, thinking. He admits that he recalls the head maid mentioning a new hire, so he guesses it is her. It’s nice to meet her.

Valerio guesses that on her first day, Emma got lost and doesn’t know where to go? Emma agrees, she was flustered and got mixed up, leading her to slip and fall into the pool. Valerio reassures her that everyone gets lost and makes mistakes, and to not dwel on it. He’ll show her around personally.

Emma is relieved to find out that they were about to hire a new maid, so she was able to make this work. Still, Rio ahead of her, is smiling and has a beautiful demeanor, like a prince in a picture book. But there is not the familiar warmth and intimacy between him, and there is no conveyance of love.

She feels anxious, but more than that, she feels curious about this version of Rio. She wonders if she’ll be able to learn more about him, things that he doesn’t want to show her.

As long as time allows, she wants to stay by this past Rio’s side.

Emma is brought to the head maid, where she is given a uniform to change into, and then is directed to a room further in the palace. She knocks and enters, only to find Rio, surrounded by piles of documents. She realizes this must be past-Rio’s office.

Valerio looks up at her entrance and approaches her. He notes that she must have hurried as her clothes are a little disorganized, and reaches out to adjust her collar. Her heart races at his touch, but she holds herself stiff. Right now, she is a new maid, she doesn’t want to do anything inappropriate.

Moving forward, Emma explains the head maid told her that she would receive her instructions once she arrived here. She asks Valerio to tell her what he wants from her.

As if sensing her nervousness, Valerio smiles at her, and it’s one of Rio’s smiles. The warmth spreads through her allowing her to relax.

Valerio assures her that she doesn’t need to be so nervous, he simply needs an assistant.

It dawns on Emma that she was hired to be Rio – well Valerio’s – exclusive maid.

What luck! She can stay by Rio’s side without drawing any suspicion!

Emma quickly bows and assures Rio – well, Valerio, that she will do her very best to assist him. Valerio remarks that she seems reliable, his smile brighter than the sun reflecting from the ocean.

It dawns on Emma that this might be a problem. It sounds like they were actively looking to hire someone to serve as Valerio’s exclusive maid – it would be a problem if the real candidate showed up. She’s going to need to be extra careful around Rio.

Valerio begins running through the itinerary of the day, he explains that he mostly does paperwork, but there are occasional meetings, and also . . .

As Valerio talks, Emma grows dizzy with his packed schedule. From the way Rio talked about his duties before they met, she presumed he had a lot of leisure time. Apparently his schedule is packed to the minute. She knew he was making a point to carve out time to spend with her, but still . . .

Well, she can at least help this past version of Rio.

Emma spends the day running errands, delivering documents, and preparing tea and sweets for Valerio’s meetings. Towards the end of the day, Valerio compliments her – since this is her first day, he didn’t expect her to be so competent. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that she had spent years working at the palace. Really, she’s one of the most effective assistants he has ever had.

Emma humbly demurs, but inside she is elated. It seems like she was able to help Valerio after all. But judging from Valerio’s response, the better course of action would have been to be more clumsy and less effective, which would have helped her fit in. She might need to reel in her talents a bit in the coming days.

While they walk together, servants and officials passing by all have a kind nod or word for Valerio, and they occasionally stop to exchange amicable words. It is clear to Emma that all of the people who work at the palace really do like Valerio. She knows that he is the King of Benitoite’s favorite child, but this favor he has with everyone really does cement his place as a fairytale prince.

But, there’s an edge to his smile, an empty, loneliness that she barely recognizes. With Rio just a few steps ahead of her, she wants to reach out and hold his hand.

Before she can give in to her base urges, Emma clasps her hands in front of her, restraining herself.

An official approaches Valerio, calling out to him with a friendly-sounding voice. There’s something about the manner that he’s speaking that clues Emma in that he and Valerio might be friends.

And indeed, Valerio’s smile softens, and he and the official begin to have a lively conversation. Emma politely stands aside to give them an illusion of privacy, until –

The official is explaining that he had a famous artist make a depiction of a beagle, Prince Valerio’s emblem. In fact, that’s what he originally wanted to talk about, a good time for Valerio to receive this gift.

Valerio gracefully accepts this gift, but Emma catches the flash of confusion and wariness in his expression. She knows how Valerio wants to avoid having anything tangible, stemming from the trauma of his youth. Back then, his older brothers would constantly steal and destroy his belongings, driving him to the state where he didn’t want to have anything he could grow attached to.

When the official leaves, Rio’s expression has returned to that well-practiced empty smile. He apologizes for making Emma wait, and they continue down the corridor in silence.

Emma knows that this is the past, and there are limits on what she can do, but it is painful to see him suffer. She wishes she could give him a moment of peace, but what can she really do?

Footsteps catch up to them and the owner announces that the rumors really were true.

Oh no. Emma recognizes this voice.

Turning around, she sees him, younger than she recalls, but still easily identifiable with his deep blue hair slicked back. Out of Rio’s older brothers it would have to be him. It would be tough, but she could have handled Silvio. Handling Emidio is a different matter altogether.

Emidio says that he caught a rumor that Valerio was having a maid serve as his personal assistant. He was curious, and it appears this is the type of woman Rio prefers.

Emidio’s dim, cold eyes examine Emma like one would a product for sale. It takes almost everything Emma has to suppress the anger and pretend to be a normal maid. She bows politely and can hear the condescension in Emidio’s laugh that he doesn’t even bother to hide.

Emidio praises Valerio’s taste in women, this one seems to be relatively intelligent. But he can’t believe that she is just a maid, he senses Valerio and this woman have the kind of relationship that he cant speak out loud for fear of ruining her reputation.

Yep, this is Emidio’s form a bullying, by saying this full blast so anyone in the general vicinity can hear his theory.

Valerio steps forward, breaking the direct line of sight between Emidio and Emma. He chides Emidio from making these kinds of accusations when he hasn’t even known this maid for more than 5 minutes.

Emidio retorts that it’s Valerio who’s being rude, after doing all of that and still just living his life . . .

Emma quickly interrupts and tells Valerio that they’re almost late for their next meeting. Valerio is stunned, possibly because he knows there is no meeting, or that he didn’t expect Emma’s words to echo so much.

Maybe she is weirdly loud, but she wont let Emidio say any more hurtful things to Rio on her watch.

Valerio quickly catches on and thanks her for reminding him. He bids Emidio farewell, and they briskly walk away.

Later

Valerio thanks Emma for rescuing him from his brother and assures her that he is very grateful. But, he’s not entirely sure what they’re doing right now.

Cracking an egg into a bowl, Emma explains that she is making him a snack. Hence why they’re in the kitchen.

Okay . . . but why?

Emma takes a break and faces him directly. She reminds him that he’s been busy since this morning, so she wanted to help him relieve his fatigue. And what better way than by making pain perdue?

Valerio thanks her but assures her that he’s not really that tired.

He might be able to fool others, but Emma is always thinking about Rio. And it’s mostly true, he was doing fine for most of the day – until they ran into Emidio.

Emma decides to rephrase her explanation and tells him to think that she just spontaneously wanted to feed him.

Valerio notes that Emma is an amazingly talented maid who is also great at giving him a refreshing pick-me-up. With a wry smile, he rolls up his sleeves and explains that it’s boring just watching her, so he’ll help. Without missing a beat, Emma thanks him and asks for him to whisk some eggs.

Several minutes later . . .

Emma realizes that she forgot how long it took an amnesiac Rio to develop cooking skills, as apparently Valerio has never cooked before.

The cooking table in front of them was dirty with all kinds of ingredients scattered about it. The eggs she had asked Valerio to mix were more or less in the bowl, but the fruit was all in irregular shapes. Even Valerio, unskilled as he is, can't help but notice how amateurish the fruits of his labor look.

Emma offers to swap with him, but Valerio refuses. He knows that she must be thinking that he is so incompetent, he can’t even use a knife, but he is getting the hang of it, so please let him continue. While muttering darkly to himself, Rio continues to cut the fruit.

His picture-perfect prince image was fading away, and Emma was beginning to see the real Valerio, the one she met just after he lost his memories. Cooking together like this is bringing back memories, and she feels nostalgic for her Rio.

Emma slowly and gently reaches out to Valerio and shows him how to position his hand and knife, letting him cut the fruit. Her Rio is way better at cooking than she is, to the point that she never gets to do this with him. It’s nice.

When Valerio successfully cuts the fruit, Emma praises him, accidentally calling him Rio.

Which Valerio picks up on.

Emma immediately apologizes, asking Valerio to forget it all while kicking herself. She got too relaxed around him just because she was a little nostalgic. She pushes forward, now that the ingredients are ready, they can actually start cooking!

While Valerio watches her suspiciously, Emma begins to heat up the frying pan. After she finishes cooking the bread in the eggs, Valerio arranges the fruits and cream on the dish. Emma cheers, the extra super special pain perdue is complete.

As Emma begins to prepare the tea, Valerio cuts in and asks her to prepare two cups. And, if she could get an extra plate and utensils for one more . . .

Huh, maybe Valerio wants to invite someone to join him. She couldn’t think of anyone, but she complied and pulled out a second place setting.

After she finishes setting up, to her surprise, Valerio gestures for her to sit at the second seat. He explains that she’s been working hard too, and it makes sense for them to take a break together.

The concern in Rio’s – well, Valerio’s voice warms her heart, so Emma agrees to join him. Rio serves her a portion of the pain perdue, and they begin to eat it.

Valerio compliments her, she is surprisingly good at making sweets. Emma demurs, thanking him for helping her. Valerio denies this, he was just messing about. But it was fun. Even the weirdly cut fruit looks cute when eaten like this.

Valerio smiles at her, and it’s different from the distant empty smile that she saw all day today. It looks like one of Rio’s genuinely happy smiles. Maybe she was able to give him a moment of peace today.

Thinking that, Emma’s mouth curves into a smile.

After they finish, Emma begins to clean up, planning on brewing another batch of the now-cold tea, but Valerio grabs her hand. He tells her to wait, there’s actually something he wants to ask her.

Who is she?

There was never a new maid coming in as his assistant – Valerio had thought she seemed suspicious and had the head maid go along with her deception and assign her to him.

He was honestly surprised when Emma had performed perfectly as a maid. And he found several suspicious points, foremost the interaction they had with Emidio. She hadn’t shied away form him, and instead seemed like a guard dog ready to bite him.

Besides that, no matter what work he gave her, she pulled it off flawlessly, no matter how ridiculously difficult the assignment had been.

(Seriously, he was assigning her ridiculous duties just to see how far he could go)

And finally, she keeps on calling him ‘Rio’ in an intimate manner. It wasn’t her accidentally thinking of someone else or forgetting his name, she seemed to believe that he was ‘Rio’.

So, who is she?

Valerio’s grip on her hand doesn’t hurt, but it is unwavering and won't let go. She has no choice but to tell him the truth. The whole truth.

Afterward, Valerio asks if she wants to try again. Even if it’s a lie, surely she can come up with something more believable.

Emma argues that everything she just said was absolutely true, Rio – well, future Valerio – is her doting fiancé, and conveys his love for her every moment of the day. She can’t begin to match him for his love.

Of course, she is using this opportunity to show how much she loves this past version of Rio, even if her methods are nowhere near as effective. She gently wraps her hands around Valerio’s and gazes into his eyes.

She knows his life is hard, full of worrying and suffering, and he’s not at the point where he can have things important to him yet. Even after deciding to cherish her, Rio has suffered time and time again. But he’s also the happiest he has ever been in the future. She wants Valerio to keep hoping that he has something that is worth cherishing coming in the future for him.

Valerio looks surprised, his eyes wavering like a lost child. He admits that he can’t necessarily prove that she is lying or not.

But . . . maybe . . .

(Yandere instincts rising! Rising! Falling . . . . Rising!!

Maybe he is a little jealous of the future him who has something worth cherishing.

Emma’s vision turns white, and she can’t even reach out to Valerio and his forlorn smile that burns into her mind.

When Emma opens her eyes, she’s next to Rio, his face sleeping right next to her. She can hear the sounds of waves crashing against the ocean, and the sights, smells, and sounds bring her a sense of security.

She just had the weirdest dream, like she was talking to some sort of past version of Rio. Somewhat confused, she reaches out to stroke Rio’s face.

This wakes up Rio, and he sleepily wishes her a good morning. With a sleepy, blissfully happy expression, he pulls her close to kiss her.

Ah, how much she loves Rio’s smiling face. Her heart fills to overflowing with love and she hugs Rio tightly. He pets her hair and asks if she had a good dream, she seems extra happy this morning.

Emma admits that she did, she met ‘Rio’ in her dreams. Rio notes that it’s the same for him, he must have met her too. Too bad he doesn’t remember his dream.

Rio lowers his eyes, looking depressed, but then he immediately looks up at her, smiling mischievously. He just had the best idea. Maybe if he touches her like this, his memory will come back?

Rio playfully nuzzles against her, his hair tickling Emma’s nose and cheeks. Emma bursts out laughing, complaining that he’s tickling her.

Ohh, so she doesn’t want to be tickled then? Rio stops nuzzling and instead kisses her lips. His lips and hands caress her as if she was something precious, special.

If it was really Rio from the past that she encountered, then Emma has to cherish the moments they spend together. Tomorrow, the day after, and the future beyond that, she wants to love Rio with everything she has.

Emma kisses Rio, pouring all her love into him. She hugged and was hugged in a way that conveyed everything important to both of them.

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

A multiversal wolverines mind and her declining sanity

Logan howlett x reader

-

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS!!!!

-

Warnings: major Canon divergence.

-

Cassandra's lair was made of the armoured corpse of Antman. Not exactly the most subtle lair on earth.

We stood as six before God knows how many, I knew we shouldn't have come. Logan knew it too, and secretly, I bet everyone else did too.

"Your all soooooo brave for coming back here" Nova taunted.

Her stupid fucking face pouted in faux. Stupid fucking bald headed bitch with stupid eyes and stupid clothes. Pathetic.

"I'd say your all so brave for not running away quicker" I stated.

In that moment, Logan pulled out both sets of claws and I had summoned my hand blade.

"Because we're about to fuck you all u-"

Before I could finish my sentence, I felt something protruding from my face, something like fingers. A hand crawled around my skull, invading my facial muscles.

It felt like Charles all over again.

"Your poor thing"

My memories began to zoom around my mind. Logan. Xavier. Scarlet witch. Loki. The TVA. Logan.

-

🧠

"Your not listening to me!"

I kicked and banged against the jail bars.

"LET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU PATHETIC FUCK!"

They were going to find Logan. They were going to kill him.

-

'Aw, I don't think that's what we're looking for now, is it?' Nova laughed darkly ', let's look again, shall we?"

-

🧠

It was sunny today. Finally, the sun had shone. I held logans calloused hand as we watched our small dog, Felix, run around in the field. The grass was waving and emerald, the sun rays were golden and heavenly.

"You know Logan. If anything ever happens to you-"

"Ah," he put his finger on my mouth, silencing me instantly "nothing will ever happen to me"

Nothing will ever happen to me

Nothin

Nothi

Noth

Not

No

N

Will ever happen to me.

-

"AHHHHH!" I screamed as I impaled nova with my blade, holding her in the air forked through the stomach.

"You vile, vicious, pathetic little bitch!"

She could only laugh. Dark and vile.

The rest of her henchmen, or whatever the fuck she called them, gathered around us. I let novas body slide off my blade and thud on the ground.

"Youknowhowlongibeenwaitinfordis? Hooimboutamakanameformaselfere"

Again, I didn't know what the fuck gambit was saying. But oh was this gonna be fucking fun.

-

🧠

For some reason, I barely remember if i had any memories of logans memory loss. I know I was there. But what I did during it was information. Not even a mind reader could get out of me.

I remember, while working at the TVA, I met Doctor Stephen Strange. He was looking for a missing girl he said could travel across the multiverse.

Of course, no one believed him, but I remember seeing his face. Grey streaked beard. Classy red cape and blue robes. The time stone in his amulet. Something in me watched his panic, and I understood how we felt. I got it. I got that fear.

So I told him where she was.

And still to this day, no one at the TVA knows.

-

I was awake. That's all I knew. And I could move. I heard two different voices. I was lying on the grass, it was wet and cold but the air was warm.

One voice was that was of Wade.

Another of Logan

"Holy fuck balls she's awake!" Wade Gasped.

I sat up and got massive deja vu all over again. As I gained back my vision, I passed the blurriness, I first saw Logan and dare I say he looked mildly concerned.

"What the fuck happened?" I groaned loudly

"We were at bald Freaks lair and now we're in God knows where"

"Westchester," I said instantly.

I finally gained the strength to stand up and look around. "Were in fucking Westchester"

Wade looked around, while Logan looked at me and I looked at him.

"Why the fuck are we here?!" Wade threw his hands up in the air, acting defeated.

I turnt to Logan. "You alright?" He asked, not that he actually cared. "I'm fine" I replied "listen I think we've gone back into the past, in the time of the x mansion"

"Oh what the fuck?!" Logan grunted and punched the tree beside him, shattering it completely.

"So we're gonna find rolly polly here?" Wade put his hands on his hips.

Rolly polly obviously meant Charles.

"We just might yes"

-

[swifty-fox]

Would you be happy to share a little bit of John's head space when he was arrested, unable to reach Gale (not even knowing if he was safe) and then when Curt told him he'd got in touch? LOVEEEEEED this part. Prison tropes are yummy #chapel au

(p.s. I hope he was loyal in jail too!)

ask and ye shall receive (sometimes)

Now on Ao3!

The cops chip his tooth clean off throwing him over the corpse of the Corolla. He watches the white bone bounce away as pain blooms vivid and sharp across his face. Cursing before the sensation truly registers, still processing the sharp crack he cusses out the hands roving over his body, dragging his arms roughly behind his back, cold metal clinching tight around his wrists.

“It was a con. It was my fuckin hand in my pocket! There’s no goddamn weapon if you’d listen to me for just a second you stupid fuckin’ pigs.”

There’s a gun pointed at him. He’s not used to the reversal. His side throbs in phantom memory.

Folded into the back of a cruiser like dirty laundry he leans back uncomfortably on his cuffed hands and runs his tongue over the jagged edge of his tooth again and again, shuddering at the pain of it. 

He pictures Gale on a bus to California, staring out the window and playing with his braid until the flyaways outmatched the hair tie. Usually, he was frowning slightly, unless he had a gun in his hand or he was looking at John, and John imagines himself pressing a thumb to the imaginary furrow of Gale’s imaginary brow. 

It’s soothing enough as he breathes and watches the cops rip apart the car, scattering his and Gale’s entire life across the roadside. 

He shouts, knowing they won’t hear him, “There’s no fucking gun!”

-*~*-

They don't quite rough ride him but a few of the red lights have his chest hitting the front seat for how he can’t catch himself with anything but his already sore face. He cusses them out for it every time.

-*~*-

He’s given some fresh from the bar bushy-tailed lawyer who can’t be any older than he is. Veal’s convinced he’s saving his life, arguing for time served on account of his lack of a permanent address and he smiles at him with teeth and tells the judge to go fuck himself. 

It’s stupid. He can hear Gale sighing in his ear. Gale with his serious face and eyes that went electric and feral with a gun on his hand, a mask over his face. Quick clever Gale who had only ever missed a single camera in all their time together. Gale who is in California, waiting for a partner in crime who will never show up now. 

They hit him with the full fifteen months, of course. John sits as the courtroom slowly clears, eyes fixed unseeingly at the desk and thinks he’s made the worst mistake of his life.

-*~*-

Gale, Gale, Gale. 

If he were a less secure man he’d be disgusted with himself how often he spent thinking about his partner in crime. The whip of his braid in the wind and the white slash of his teeth when John got him to truly smile. The taste of his sweat and the way he was slow to wake in the morning. Quiet and unspeaking as John slowly coaxed him from bed with his lips and soft murmurs. Sweet and slightly vacant until they got a cup of coffee in his hands. 

He runs over the last moments of them together, the animal panic in Gale’s face, the soft growl behind his kiss as John drank him down in the shadows. The stiff broad line of his shoulders as he boarded the bus.

Tucking the snowglobe into his bag when he wasn’t looking, John’s fingers shaking. 

He’s used to leaving. He’s left his family and he’s left friends and towns and places all over. He’s left girls in bed and boys in rest-stop bathrooms and he’s left a fair few morals at his father's grave too. 

Leaving Gale, or Gale leaving him, feels like it had been the most enormous thing he’s ever done. He’d waved the bus away and then sat in their car until the sun rose, trying to convince himself to turn the ignition and put the car in a direction that was not after Gale.

It was a good plan. 

It’s not Gale’s fault that John never knew how to keep his mouth shut, never believed this stupid little car that had been his home, and then their home, would ever give out on him.

John wonders how long Gale will bother to wait for him. He wonders if he’ll try to make his way back to their usual haunts, if he’ll cut and run like he’d been ready to do before John had whisked him away. 

He calls Curt every few days, leaning against the phone booth and working his teeth over the inside of his cheek. 

“Ain’t heard anything, Bucky,” Curt says voice as tender as it ever could be. 

“You’ll tell him?” John asks, as stupid as the question was, “If he calls you’ll tell him I didn’t mean to not be there.” 

-*~*-

The worst part, aside from the fact his heart is outside his body and somewhere in California, is that prison is boring. It’s not awful, Nebraska isn’t exactly a hotbed of violent crime, but even so John is sure to carry himself with every inch of his size, turns up the swagger in his step and drapes himself into chairs with a sprawl that shows off how little he cares, how confident he is in his place. He doesn’t start anything, but he doesn’t frame himself as someone easy to push over either. 

A lot of time is wasted away with physical activity. Basketball or wall ball with himself or teaching himself how to do chin-ups until his arms shake. It pays off. He wonders if Gale would like it.

He calls Curt, and Curt tells him he’s heard nothing and John spends his nights fantasizing about breaking out and somehow finding his partner in crime in the vastness of America to deal with it. 

-*~*-

His bunkmate is a rail-thin man named Hamilton. He’s got a gold tooth and a fucked up face and looks like the sort of guy who carries a knife just to show it off but he’s friendly and easygoing as they come and found a way to bring up his wife in every conversation. It’s charming until it gets annoying.

“The hell’d he even do?” He asks another inmate even though it’s considered bad manners. 

Douglass shrugs, carefully sketching his way through a letter, “His sister’s boyfriend put hands on her, so Ham took a hammer to ‘em.”

John taps out a cigarette,and offers one to Douglass because it’s the universal way of making friends, even behind chain-link fences, “Is his wife really in the circus?” 

“Fuck if I know.”

-*~*-

“Anything?”

“John, I promise you’d be the first to know.” 

-*~*-

Sometimes, rarely, and only late at night, John prays. They’d taken his father's crucifix with the rest of his personals and its absence was heavy around his neck. It’s more to his father that he prays anyway, rather than God. Asks him if he’d be proud – doubtful. Or if he’d think there was still time to save John – more likely. 

Remembers his big hand wrapped around John’s small one, tugging his balking form towards the church.

“Why can’t I just confess to you? Why do I have to do it with Pastor Coyne?

“Because as your father I’d be tempted to discipline or lecture you, Bucky. This is for you to be forgiven; for you to forgive yourself.”

He preferred his father’s God. But that God had been lowered into the ground right alongside Pastor Egan’s casket.

Look after him dad, he doesn’t have anyone doing it now. Needs it more than I do that’s for sure. Just make sure he’s among friends.

-*~*-

In the less romantic sense, he thinks about Gale a lot. It’s a gentleman's understanding, taking care of one’s needs; quiet and unobtrusive as possible. He’s heard Ham’s hitched breathing enough times during night or knowingly squeezed a few extra moments in the showers to allow the other man privacy. What a man does under the rough wool blankets they’re given is his own business. 

John thinks about Gale. About the wild pout of his lips that were the first thing John noticed. The hollow of his neck and collarbones, the way both fit perfectly between his fingers. How Gale’s eyes rolled as John squeezed tight, uncompromisingly trusting. The flushed curved of his cock sliding down John’s throat, splitting John open as Gale slipped elegant fingers into his mouth and made him suck the flavor of the leather wheel off them. 

Pulls himself off to the image of Gale’s broad tanned shoulders, speckled with water and braid tucked teasingly to one side. He’s smiling at John, glancing over his shoulder with the sun turning his lashes wispy and clear.

-*~*-

He gets prison ink, bored and reckless and maybe a little angry. Thick black stars on the front of his hips, and the constellation of the moles on Gale’s face on the inner corner of his elbow. Nonsense dots to anyone else but he knows they’re accurate down to the millimeter. 

It should be. He’s had three years to memorize them.

-*~*-

“John.” Curt says, voice short and shocked and clipped. He’s breathless, a little giddy in the pitch of his voice and John’s stomach drops right down through the concrete floor. 

“Is he okay?” are the first words out of his mouth.

-*~*-

Five minutes he speaks to Curt, five minutes before he hands up and dials the number he’d said aloud until he had it memorized without risk of failure. His hands don’t shake, but his heart feels like it’s about to give out and he’s worrying the inside of his cheek like a dog with a bone, the flaws gone raw and bloody. 

Gale Gale Gale.

It’s a mantra in his mind, a hail-fucking-mary and for once he barrels right past the memory of his father and thanks the big man directly. Because Gale is alive and Gale is whole and Gale has fucking found him. His fingers slip on the numbers, the phones connecting before it barely has the chance to ring and then John’s suddenly unable to breath as he hears a quiet exhale that’s as familiar as his own face in the mirror.

“Gale?”

A quiet sound of confirmation, thick with breathless emotion. The creak of plastic as the phone is gripped too tight. John presses his forehead against the top of the booth as if he might escape through the line itself and be back at his partners side.

“Hi doll,” He croaks, unable to keep the first smile in four months off his face, “Hi sweetheart.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Sweet

Summary: You were in charge of the bakery of Jackson, baking all day long with a little help from Ellie. What you didn't know is that Joel Miller had a sweet tooth. And let's just say even the funghi apocalypse did not change saying: the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, mentions of food, a little making out, that once scene with the sugar from gone girl but it's Joel

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified for new fic updated

You enjoyed these quiet moments when the small community of Jackson was still asleep. The sun wasn’t even up as you walked the familiar way from your small house on the edges of town towards the town centre. 

You still couldn’t believe how surreal living here was, after years of living scared on the road, even though you had been here for almost a year now. 

You felt safe here, and that was the biggest luxury you could have since the outbreak. 

Maria had found you hiding in an abandoned lodge hours from here, nearly delirious from hunger and hydration. 

You don’t remember how you got here exactly, you just remember waking up in what you learned later was the town's jail with Maria watching you like a hawk. 

Apparently you had fought them pretty wildly when they found you and you only had Tommy Miller to thank for them not killing you. What he saw in you was a question you still asked yourself.

But Maria noticed that she did not have to worry about you pretty quickly. And when her husband learned that you used to help in your fathers bakery before the Outbreak… Well let’s just say the empty building next to the bar had been renovated within three weeks to make room for a bakery and you had been baking everything from bread to sweets ever since then. 

Your days didn’t have to start so early. But you cherished the quiet, the alone time you got whenever you walked through town before everyone woke up. 

Ever since you started baking for the town all kinds of ingredients and appliances showed up whenever patrol was out on a run. You had your usual baked goods and pastries you made for the daily with ingredients you always had on stock. If someone wanted something special you did that too. You’d never forget last year when Tommy had brought you fresh strawberries to make four cakes with it. 

By now you had a little garden at your home with all fresh fruits. Even a peach and an apple tree was slowly growing in your yard. Okay, it wasn’t even up to your hip but it was getting there and in the meantime you could count on Tommy Miller’s sweet tooth to bring you whatever he found when he was scouting outside of the walls. 

Your little bakery was quiet, the radio playing some Queen CD you had found in the library as you kneaded some dough to make some new loafs of bread. Humming along you jumped when the door flew open with a yelled “Good Morning.”

You took a deep breath, shaking your head, a smile sneaking to your face before Ellie even walked towards the back to find you. 

“Jesus kid, one day you are going to give me a heart attack,” you scolded her. She stuck her tongue out towards you as she grabbed her apron. 

“You’re late,” you said. 

“I know. But I have a good reason!” she grinned and you only noticed the bag she was carrying now. 

You tilted your head to the side, narrowing your eyes with a smile playing around your lips. 

“Joel got back in back late yesterday and I tried cooking for him.”

“So you were late because you were putting the fire out from burning down the kitchen?” you teased.

She gasped, her eyes widening in mock offence. 

“Rude. But I’ll let it slide. I didn’t burn the food. Well, not much but Joel brought me some new comics to read and I kinda forgot the time.”

“That’s the good reason?” you asked. You began to cut the dough and form some loafs. 

She shook her head, beginning to unload the bag. 

The first thing you saw seemed to be cream cheese. 

“Had to pick that up from the farm,” she explained. “That’s why I was late.”

“Okay…” you nodded. 

She pulled another three big bags with what looked like a brownish powder. 

“Joel found this and said I had to talk you into making… Cinnamon… rolls?”

You gasped. Rubbing your hands off your apron you walked over to her, opening the bag and the familiar scent of cinnamon hitting your nose. 

“How did he even… Wait, Joel told you to talk me into making cinnamon rolls?” you asked surprised. 

“Yup.”

“Joel Miller?” you checked. She nodded again. 

“Huh okay,” you nodded, surprised. 

Of course you knew Joel Miller. Not just because he was the new main attraction (pun intended) of the town, no he could almost compete Tommy on the first place of Jackson’s biggest sweet tooth. Not that you would know about it if it wasn’t for Ellie telling you that basically everything she took home after helping you was almost inhaled immediately by Joel. 

You hadn’t met him in person very often yet. Ellie and Joel had been in Jackson for almost two months now and he was busy helping out wherever he could. He had a skillset that was very valuable in times like these. 

One day Tommy had brought Ellie with him, introducing you to her and she… she never really left. On weekends she helped you out in the morning like today, while during the week she hung out with you after school. If she wasn’t here, she was with Joel. 

Which made you not really knowing much about the man a little strange. He only had been to the bakery once, probably to make sure you weren’t a bad influence on his kid (though you would say it was very much Ellie who was the bad influence here, not that you would say that out loud). 

You had met him at Maria’s birthday party only two weeks ago where he kept in the back and nursed a bottle of beer until leaving quietly without saying goodbye to anyone. 

You knew Maria was not his biggest fan, though the question of why has not been answered yet. Not that you had a right to know in any way. 

To you he seemed like a man hardened by the world you all were living in. He’d protect his family until his last breath. Ellie only ever had great things to say about him (apart from moaning about him making her do daily chores around the house like every teenager) and Tommy seemed even happier since Joel was in Jackson. 

Of course you saw the way people looked at him, you weren’t blind. 

He was tall and had broad shoulders, the warmest brown eyes you had ever seen, leaving not only you to daydream about those arms and hands and what he could do with them. 

“So, Cinnamon rolls?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her, your nose still inhaling the scent.

“Yes. God, it must be at least 20 years since I’ve had some.”

You grabbed two of the packages, putting them away. 

“We gotta finish those loafs of bread first. Then we can start on the rolls.”

“Can we do a whole tin of these cinnamon rolls for Joel?” Ellie asked, walking back to join you at the counter after she had washed her hands. 

“Sure. I don’t see why not,” you shrugged, rolling the dough to form more loafs of bread. 

“Cause it’s his birthday and Tommy said he hates his birthday, cause ya know it’s outbreak day and…. Well stuff happened there…. And I… I want him to be a little happy?” she said and you nodded. 

Outbreak day was bad for everyone. It was the day you lost your whole family. You had just turned 26 and had been visiting home for a week after moving away for a job. You were at your father’s bakery, finishing icing for a wedding cake for the next day when your father attacked you. 

You had killed him in tears to save your own life and nothing had ever been the same ever since. 

“I already said it’s okay, Ellie. Come on. Let’s bake the best cinnamon rolls of the apocalypse,” you joked and she giggled. 

You ended up not only making four loads of cinnamon rolls that were gone the moment word got out you had made them, but also a little vanilla sponge cake with cinnamon frosting, helping Ellie to carry the cake and one load of cinnamon rolls home. 

She insisted it was okay for you to come home with her, she couldn’t carry it on her own anyway. 

Opening the door, she yelled for Joel immediately and you chuckled as you followed her inside and into the kitchen. 

It only took a moment before you heard footsteps and Joel Miller walked into the kitchen. And what a sight to behold he was. Wearing dark sweatpants and a thin white shirt, his hair unkempt. You had the suspicion that he had just woken up from a nap. His eyes found yours first, confusion washing over his face before he looked behind you to find Ellie.

“Look what we made you!” Ellie said proudly, revealing the little cake with one single pink birthday candle on top of it which she had lit. 

A genuine smile sneaked on his face as he slowly walked over to the table where Ellie had set the cake down. 

“For me?” he asked and Ellie nodded eagerly. 

“You gotta blow out the candle if you still can, old man,” she winked at him and he huffed a laugh, his head turning towards you for a second.

“Make a wish,” you said with a smile and he nodded before he blew the candle out. 

“Taste the frosting! I didn’t know anything could taste so fucking good,” Ellie pushed a spoon into his hand and he shook his head with a smile as he sat down. 

“I should go,” you said and Ellie looked at you with wide eyes, as if she only just remembered you were still there. 

“Noooo come on. You gotta stay. Enjoy our hard work and eat a piece of cake,” she grabbed another spoon and walked over to you, grabbing you hand and pulling you with her towards the table. 

“Yeah. Stay. Can’t let you leave without having a taste of your hard work,” Joel said and gave you a small smile. 

You took a deep breath, his eyes not leaving yours as you finally nodded and sat down next to him. 

“Plates?” he asked. 

“And have me clean the dishes again? Fuck no dude. Dig in,” Ellie said and you chuckled at the expression of pure defeat on Joel’s face before he sighed and dug his spoon into the cake. 

Joel became a frequent fixture in your life after that day. 

He picked Ellie up after her shift at the bakery and made suggestions about how to improve the bakery. He suggested having some place to sit outside to enjoy a piece of cake in the sun.

“You know, like a coffee shop before the outbreak,” he says with a far away expression on his face, as if he was thinking about something in particular. 

A week later there was a bench outside of the bakery with a small table, built by him and for you. You thanked him with a peach pie and a kiss to his cheek that had him hide a blush. 

Him and Tommy even brought an espresso machine into your bakery that they intended to fix. How they would provide coffee beans for their espresso was beyond you, but you knew if the Miller brothers wanted something, they would find a way to get it. 

Ellie started to spend even more time with you. 

She would visit you at home and help with your little garden. When you walked her home after Joel would have dinner ready more than once, inviting you to join them. And who were you to say no?

There were little touches when you passed by. His hands brushing over your arms, your back, your waist. Whenever you were looking for him, his eyes would already be on you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. 

It was interesting seeing how different he was in his home in comparison to outside in town. 

He’d walk you home after dinner, so he knew you’d make it back safe even though both of you knew you were perfectly safe anytime in Jackson. 

Joel seemed to look for reasons to spend time with you, and you were not complaining. At all. 

It had been many many years since you were interested in someone and someone in you and you were enjoying having the attention of Joel Miller. 

He’d hug you good night, telling you to be safe and that he’s looking forward to seeing you the next day. 

Spending time with him became your new favourite thing, and you were pretty sure Joel liked it too.

Yet you felt like something was holding him back. 

And you’d learn about it weeks later, after he had invited you for dinner, for your first official date. 

You learned about his daughter who was killed on outbreak day. About how he lost a part of himself that only started to come back after he had allowed himself to care for Ellie. You learned about Tess and how he regretted never being brave enough to tell her how he felt about her before she died. 

“I’m scared that once I allow myself to care about someone, they will be taken from me,” he whispered as you sat in his arms, your back against his chest as you shared a glass of wine in front of the fireplace.

“I think we’re all scared Joel,” you said, your hands on top of his. 

“How couldn’t we be? Fucking funghi took over and ended the world as we knew it before. But that’s the thing. We don’t know how long we live. And I probably sound like a shitty  motivational speaker but it’d be a shame not to live every day like it could be the last. To not tell the people you care about how you feel about them,” you said and felt him pull you even closer, his nose nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. 

You had fallen asleep not long after, waking up early the next morning when Joel had to leave for patrol. 

His eyes had lingered on your lips as he told you to stay however long you wanted, before he kissed your forehead and helped you up on the couch where you fell asleep again. 

You were late in the bakery that day, thankful for Sean who had joined the community a week before who was already finished with all the baked goods for the day when you finally made your way to the bakery at noon. 

You thanked him, sending him home early before you got behind the counter and started decorating some cookies he had made for a kid's birthday the next day. 

The sun was setting when the door opened and Joel walked in. He smiled at you and you offered him a cookie which he took, moaning when he tasted it. 

“Got something for ya,” he said and you noticed the bag he was holding. Interested, you walked over to him as he held it up. 

“What is it?” you asked with big eyes. 

“Found a plum tree on the new route today,” he said and you grinned. 

“You got me plums?” you grinned and he nodded. 

God you wanted to kiss him so badly. 

You were startled when you heard a crack, Joel’s arm wrapping around your middle protectively, shoving you behind him before either of you knew what was happening, your head whipping to the side just in time to see the cupboard behind you on the wall crash down on the counter, your eyes widening when one of the bags of powdery sugar you had made the week before opened and seemed to cloud the whole room in a white cloud of sugar. 

You turned your head to look up at Joel, eyes widened with shock, a giggle fighting its way out of you. Joel was still looking at the damage behind you before his eyes were on you when you laughed. 

“I might have to file a complaint against the carpenter that hung those,” you hummed and Joel shook his head with a chuckle.

“You better.”

“It was your brother,” you said. 

He rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“Of course it was. Gonna fix that up myself for ya, darling,” he said. You smiled, only now noticing that his arm was still wrapped around you. You turned, stepping around him so that you were facing him. Carefully your hand reached out, your fingers rubbing over his temple, where you only noticed now some sugar was sticking to his skin. He hummed, his eyes closing for a moment as you swiped it away, bringing it to your lips. Licking them clean. 

“You have sugar all over you too,” he whispered and you sucked your bottom lip in, hiding your smile as his warm brown eyes took in every little inch of your face. He tilted his head a little, one of his hands coming up, two of his fingers rubbing over your cheek before he rubbed them over your lips.

Sugar, he was rubbing sugar over your lips.

Your lips parted as he tilted your chin up. 

“Always wondered if you taste as sweet as I imagined,” he hummed before he closed the distance between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours. 

You melted against him, your hands running up his back until your fingers were in his hair as you guided him down towards you. 

Joel hummed against your lips as he slowly walked you back until your back hit the counter. Parting from your lips he looked at you with dark eyes, before he helped you up on the counter, your legs crossing behind him as he stepped between them. 

“Dreamed so long about this,” he brushed his nose over yours and you smiled. 

“Me too,” you hummed, playing with his hair as one of his hands came up to cup your cheek. 

He kissed you again, his lips moving against yours, making you dizzy. His hand slipped under your shirt, making you shiver as his fingers slowly ran up your spine. 

You parted your lips for him, his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss until you were both out of breath. You could feel him hard against your core, his hips moving just right against your clit, making you moan against his lips.

The door behind you opened and you both froze. Slowly you tilted your head to the side, finding Tommy grinning widely at you both. 

“I’m just gonna take his and…” he helped himself to two cupcakes and turned around, walking back towards the door. 

He stopped, stepping to the side to turn off the lights, giving you a wink before he closed the door behind him. 

You let your head fall against Joel’s shoulder as you both laughed. 

“I’m never gonna hear the end of that,” he sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled. 

“Maybe we should take this somewhere else,” he said and you looked up at him. He kissed you again, both of his hands now on your ass as he rolled his hips against you.

“Lead the way,” you whispered against his lips, shrieking when he picked you up from the counter and carried you towards the door.

[https-furina]

“your order is complete!” this order is for @jingyuansbird:

“heyo heyo ✌🏾 congrats on 500! so, for my order, it'll be for alhaitham, size medium, with a cappuccino, soy milk, and foam please, and thank you!!!”

alhaitham x gn!reader | fluff, college!au + established relationship | 1.1k words notes. thank you so much !! i hope you enjoy your order (it should be mentioned that alhaitham despite being a previous main of mine is not one of my strong suits so i apologise if it's bad...) <3

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with finals week drawing ever closer, it can sometimes feel like you're going insane with the repetitive revision and those god awful prep talks from your professors but adding onto that to make things worse, the most (seemingly) sane person in your circle really doesn't help the looming feeling of insanity. he seems to have no qualms with the endless academic revision thrown onto you for the sake of grades, his head always buried deep in a textbook that keeps him occupied whilst your friend circle do what they're best at… procrastinating.

"i'm really starting to think college isn't worth it," you mumble, highlighting another line in your notes - you're hoping the pretty colours will attract your attention more, "when am i ever going to use this in the 'real' world?"

your boyfriend makes an evidently amused noise from where he sits opposite you, his slim fingers working diligently at typing on his laptop; the one that you had snuck a cat meme sticker onto, much to his dismay but he is still yet to remove it. it is silent for a few moments save for the exceptionally fast clicking of laptop keys before your boyfriend presses the enter key, his turquoise eyes flickering up to meet your already staring gaze. you smile sheepishly and he rolls his eyes, a crack of a smile on the corners of his lips.

"we're almost finished and you're giving up now?" he mumbles back into the quiet of the library, almost filled to the brink with students and their numerous cups of coffee. you recognise that alhaitham has a point but all of this seems excessive when you glance around at all the dark circles under people's eyes, hair tied up in messy buns and stomachs full of leftover food because they're lacking time to cook. a frown adorns your face and alhaitham is quick to pick up on it, clearing his throat as he fixes his posture, sitting straight.

"it's all we've done for weeks now, haitham," you pout, jutting your lower lip out. without realising, you'd just made your boyfriend keen in a matter of seconds, his eyes quick to look away before he's caught slacking, "can we go for a walk? anywhere but… here."

alhaitham can't deny that the pair of you had locked yourselves away in the library for far too long to the point where his limbs have gone stiff and he's sure his knees might sound like he's aged beyond his years when he stands up. this means - much to his disliking - that he also cannot deny you, his darling partner, this walk you're requesting.

"alright, fine," he groans, slamming his laptop shut before he turns his body to slip the piece of technology into his worn leather satchel. he doesn't miss the way your face he adores so much lights up almost instantly, your eyes twinkling and wide, "but you have to promise to finish this chapter tonight."

you don't even reply to him under the premise that it'd be unwise for you to make a promise you may not be able to keep, not that it would be your fault. your friend group had tendencies to rope you into unwise things, to say the least. it could be any of them; kaveh, nilou, cyno, dehya… you have the inability to say no unless alhaitham is there to beat you to it. you're thankful for his input when it keeps you on the right track throughout college.

with your fingers laced with alhaitham's own, the two of you begin to make your way out of the jail that is the campus library. the spring sun beams down a hug of warmth on sumeru during these months, slightly sticky with humidity. alhaitham is always less than pleased about the heat, more so when he has tasks to do that require him leaving his accommodation. to quote your boyfriend, this weather in his eyes is good for nothing at all but here you was, removing him from the safe confides of an air conditioned building that was nonetheless silent - that's his idea of perfection! he bites back saying his complaints out loud, only because it's you.

"do we have a destination to this walk?" alhaitham breaks the silence first, slightly out of character for your boyfriend and it shows when you glance over at him in mild surprise, your eyebrows raised. he scoffs, looking away. you take this moment to trail your eyes over the beloved features of your partner from his silver locks and the pair of white bluetooth headphones that hang around his neck at all times. he never parted from them, almost like how he never parted from you.

you shake your head when you realise you never answered him, clicking your tongue to your teeth as you admire the bustle of the college campus - usually a little too crowded for your own liking but today it seemed to be just perfect, at least it lacked to feel like a sweaty tin of sardines, "nowhere in particular."

alhaitham appears to nod out of the corner of your eyes, his own gaze falling to a patch of empty grass on the green in the middle of campus. he squeezes your hand to catch your attention, beginning to lead you silently as you weave through the aforementioned crowds you'd been mindlessly watching prior. you didn't question his sudden change in directions, knowing alhaitham there was always a possibility the man had gotten overwhelmed in the current situation. he settles onto the lush grass first, pulling you down at his side due to your joined hands which only earns him a yelp of shock and a glare.

"that was unnecessary." you comment stubbornly and a small noise comes from your boyfriend as he watches you finally settle down, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh.

"this walk was unnecessary." he retorts, earning him a slap on his leg that curls his lips as he looks away, squinting to watch other students.

"it's good to get outside and feel the fresh air, haitham," you muse as your eyelashes flutter shut, relaxing as you feel alhaitham's thumb brushing over your knuckles subconsciously - this is just one of his many habits he does without realising but you most definitely notice every single one, "y'know… photosynthesis."

alhaitham scoffs, suddenly turning his attention back to you as he glances over your face while your eyes are shut. he takes in the way you styled your hair today and the minor details of your face you think nobody notices. seconds pass with no more words said before alhaitham leans to press his lips to you, catching you off guard as your eyes widen. pleased with your reaction, he pulls away with the faintest of a smug expression on his face as he dares to utter a response to your earlier comment, "love, we're not plants."

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[irisintheafterglow]

...with the big iron on his hip

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: marty robbins - "big iron"

summary: he's not the first to go after the crystal-eyed bandit, but something tells you that this one will keep his promise to buy you a drink when the hunting is done. (cowboy!suguru x you)

wc: 2.47k

cw/tags: western!au, implied fem!reader but gn pronouns used, reader is called pretty and darlin', strangers to lovers (??), descriptions of alcohol, drinking, and general lawlessness

note: yayy another @ficsforgaza installation, this time for @strawberrystepmom <33 thank you so much for donating to help palestinians, i know i went WAY over the word count but i hope you enjoy this anyway!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“You heard about Death riding in this morning?”

“I was told he got back from the east a few days ago. Some business with the big banks,” you reply, your voice a careful volume. Your effort is hardly needed, though, as the saloon was reaching its rowdiest hours of the evening; the smell of chewing tobacco and questionable choices was enough of an indicator. As the bar girls’ heels click-clack on the stage, you wipe the dust off a clean glass and pour its whiskey without another thought, sliding it across the bar.

“Oh, rest assured he did,” says the other bartender, Davey, a jolly-mustached man of about 60 who’d run this saloon since before your parents settled in this town. “But, word is there’s another outlaw loose and runnin’ now. Rode in on a big, black stallion, he did. Old Man Leonard swears the sun done shrunk away from rising.” You roll your eyes with patient affection, listening diligently to Davey ramble on about the rumors surrounding the newcomer. “I’m serious! ‘Stallion black as death,’ that’s what old Lenny said. You trust my word or not?”

“I believe you, I believe you. Though, you did spout a lot of nonsense ‘bout the window creeper last week, too,” you chuckle, holding up your palms in surrender. Davey tuts with a pout, muttering something about you never listening to his warnings anymore. “I wasn’t aware you were cautioning me of anything, Davey. It’s not like I’m gonna go looking for the guy.” You knew the town was a familiar stomping ground for all sorts of no-good creatures, jail breakers and tax collectors and bounty hunters alike. Word of your saloon’s neutrality spread among the underground because of its ‘whiskey or weapons’ policy where no man could carry a firearm through the batwing doors and still be served a drink. Hence, as volatile as the patrons were, honor among thieves guaranteed the saloon the ideal place for meetings and deals. Davey, relishing in the booming business it brought in, didn’t seem to mind the reputation.

“You best believe I’m cautioning you,” he insists, waggling a finger. “Whether you like it or not, you always seem to attract the eye of the most vile manner of people.” 

“I do not–” A drunken shout cuts your indignance short, a slurred exclamation of Who the Devil is that! 

As if on cue, the saloon falls into silence broken only by the sound of creaking floorboards. The girls on stage crowd up the staircase, hiding in the shadows; a stack of poker chips topples over at a corner table. 

“When have you known me to be wrong,” Davey mutters, his question becoming more of a statement as the wood continues to groan under the steps of the interloper. Knowing that the saloon guests would be looking to him to react, his tense demeanor is replaced by warmth before you can blink. “What happened to the music, boys? The night’s just beginning!” He calls out to the band, who immediately begin plucking their banjos and dancing across the keys of the out-of-tune upright piano. Normal cacophony continues with an uproar, drowning out the sound of approaching boots until he’s right in front of you. 

“You got a beer, darlin’?” For a moment, you’re a rabbit with its foot caught as a coyote stalks closer. His cowboy hat casts the upper half of his face in shadow, revealing nothing but a poisonously sweet mouth. You can feel his eyes analyze you, though, and it takes a few seconds and a deep breath to remember who’d been in this town longer. Outlaw or not, you had the high ground in this saloon. 

“No sir, not a good one,” you admit. “All the best’s kept in the cellar where it can stay cold and I ain’t going down there this time of night. Davey’s old wife haunts it after the sun goes down.”

“You afraid of ghosts?”

“Oh, no sir,” you correct him quickly and his eyes narrow, ever so slightly. “She’s very much alive, which I am of the opinion is scarier than if she was trapped in a different realm.” Your quip has amused him, enough for his gaze to soften and the corner of his mouth to turn up. He lifts his head and you’re introduced to a pair of dark eyes, framed by equally dark hair that you guess falls just above his shoulder blades. The man is devilishly handsome, and a voice in the back of your mind that suspiciously sounds like Davey issues more warnings than you can fathom. You ignore them on account of wanting to figure out what about this man made the saloon of outlaws, even for a second, fearful. “Somethin’ else I can get you?”

“Bourbon’ll do.” You pour it mechanically, watching him out of the corner of your eye. Something stops you before you slide it over to him, something akin to instinct. His face remains unchanged as you hold his glass hostage, looking at him expectantly with an open palm. 

“You got payment for me, cowboy?” 

“This work for payment? Also, not a cowboy.” He fishes something from his pants, flashing a silver star that you know all too well is the symbol of a ranger. “If not, I’ll be happy to take out a loan. I’ll pay it off before I leave in a few days, anyhow.” He’s of the law, then, you think to yourself with raised eyebrows, remembering the fact that he was hiding the authority in his pocket. Well, as much as you can be in these parts. Must need to dirty his hands a little bit to get his work done. You pretend to appraise the badge before nodding, handing him the drink. He takes a sip and triumphantly inspects the liquor swirling. 

“Up to your standards?”

“I believe it’s not the drink but rather who pours it,” he drawls with a smirk. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

“I could ask the same thing of you,” you counter, matching his cunning smile. “I’m assuming you’re the stranger who rode in on Death’s horse early this morning?”

“The horse’s name is Wormy.” You snort unexpectedly and he huffs out a quiet laugh before continuing. “But, yes. That was me this morning. Like I said, I don’t plan on staying a while, and I believe you could help me with that.” A ranger in your town scaring everyone half to death. Pieces click together in your head and it’s not long before you realize his mission. Who else would he be here for?

“You want the crystal-eyed bandit.” 

“You know him as a bandit, I know him as a kid whose corrupt family successfully tainted his mind. I’m here to get him out–”

“Or die trying?”

“Definitely not the plan,” he says with a shake of his head. “If he doesn’t come willingly, I’ll kill him. Plain and simple.” You admired his earnestness, but also allowed the skepticism to show on your face, something that the stranger takes note of. “You think I won’t be able to get him.”

“You’re not the first one to come through town on a hunt and I’m sure you won’t be the last,” you state with complete honesty. “20 men have tried and failed. Who’s to say you won’t become number 21?” 

“I’m talkin’ to you and that’s a better start than any of the other guys had.”

“How so?”

“Something tells me that you’ve been wanting out of here for a long time, now,” he assumes and it’s your turn for your eyes to narrow.

“You don’t know anything about me, cowboy.”

“Not a cowboy,” he replies automatically, quickly getting back on track lest he lose your precious attention. “See, I don’t know much about you, but I do know that our bandit can’t resist pulling others into his schemes, especially ones who aren’t too sore on the eyes.” In any other scenario, such overt flirtation would result in his immediate expulsion from the premises, but you find yourself intrigued by what he has to offer you. 

“You think I’m in leagues with outlaws because of how I look?” 

“I think you’re forced into said leagues because of your position of employment,” the ranger says. “You’re his ears, aren’t you? You’re the reason he knows the dirt on the residents in this town, because you receive that dirt and relay it to him. It’s also,” his voice drops to a dangerous octave, “why he isn’t here right now…at this bar…in this seat.” You meet the challenge in his eyes, neither confirming nor denying what he’d declared was true. By some way or another, he knew much more than he let on. He knew you lied to Davey about not seeing him ride in early this morning; he knew you promptly told the bandit of a newcomer in town who could rival his control; he could tell you hesitated to slide the bourbon over to him because it was the wrong body on the stool. 

“When’d you gather all this information if you’d just rode in this morning?” He lifts his eyebrows expectantly, like you knew the answer to your own question. Your mouth opens slightly in realization and you whistle in admiration. “That was you giving us a fright last week? The monster creeping around the windows that everyone swears they saw but didn’t have proof? Your reconnaissance methods became a tall tale around here.” The ranger hums, taking another sip from his glass. “So, what’s my part to play in your plans? I tell you where he is, you go in and shoot him, I stay put and keep my mouth shut?”

“Nope, I want you to bring him a message.”

“That being…?”

“An old friend wants to duel,” he says cryptically. “Tomorrow at dawn. Do that for me,” he continues, “and I’ll give you half the bounty.” Your eyes grow larger than the wagon wheels outside. Half the bounty was more than you made in three months and would be more than enough to get you out of this town of scum for good. Before you let your hopes run too rampant, a lingering question pushes itself to the forefront of your mind.

“Why do you need my help to do this? Why not just ambush him?” 

“I’d like to take him out fairly, let it be a true show of who’s stronger.” The man continues to sense your hesitation and another question appears.

“I don’t even know your name,” you point out. 

“Call me Suguru. Ranger only in name, not practice. My superiors would be disappointed if they knew half of my bounty suddenly disappeared in the hands of the pretty bartender at the saloon.” He thinks I’m pretty? Before thinking twice, you nod in understanding and he flashes a grin, standing up to leave. “We have a deal?” 

“I’ll do it,” you begin, “but that’s all assuming you’re successful, cowboy.” The ranger’s face becomes even more satisfied, like returning to you was the easiest part of his challenge. 

“Not a cowboy, and just trust me,” Suguru responds confidently. “Both our futures are riding on this, so I’d be damned if I screwed it up!”

—

“You’re late,” you deadpan to the approaching footsteps in front of you. You’re holding the lead of Suguru’s black stallion and your new Pinto, a parting gift from Davey for all your years of service. Get the hell out of here, he’d said through fatherly tears, an affectionate hand on your shoulder. Find a new life and a new adventure with that ranger of yours. 

“My apologies,” he drawls, stepping into the dim light of your oil lamp. “Couldn’t find my ranger badge.”

“Did it turn up?” He shakes his head, unexpectedly unbothered. “You don’t seem in anguish over it.”

“Mmm, far from it. I don’t plan on wearing it again once I turn in these, anyway,” Suguru says, holding up the small burlap sack containing two crystal-blue eyeballs. “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you, before we left. I was working up the courage while I was rummaging around for the star.” You hum thoughtfully, adjusting one more strap on the saddle before sticking the front of your foot in the stirrup. You accept Suguru’s hand of assistance and mount your horse with ease. Beneath you, he gazes up like he was staring at a bright full moon. 

“Can we discuss as we ride out of here? I’m itching to get a move on.” He accepts your request without another word and swings himself onto his horse, following your pace as you trot slowly down the empty street. Just a day ago, this very street was where the notorious crystal-eyed bandit was shot down in a duel with the man riding beside you. His swiftness left you awestruck and you heard the shot before registering that he’d pulled his gun, the bandit’s body falling into the dust. “How many days’ ride is it to where you collect the bounty?”

“We can get there in three if the weather is agreeable.” Your conversation falls silent, both of you formulating questions and answers and waiting for the other to make the first move. Swallowing his pride and clearing his throat, Suguru decides to act first. “You wanna ask why I’m not wearing the badge after this bounty.” 

“That a statement or a question, cowboy?”

“Not a cowboy, but it’s a fact and whatever you make of it,” he shrugs. “Truth is, I’m not really sure what I’m going to do now that I’ve completed the only hunt I really cared about.” You nod, encouraging him to continue as he shifts awkwardly in his saddle. “So, if you’d let me…would you let me keep you under my protection, wherever the wind takes you?”

“You want to stay…with me?” You echo his proposition with a flutter in your stomach and a racing heart. “Wherever the wind takes me, you wanna be there with me,” you reiterate, seeking confirmation that he gives wholeheartedly. 

“A ranger’s name can still have some standing,” he explains, incorrectly believing that you still need convincing. “And the darker circles I’m in respect me as a bounty hunter, so I can get you to basically wherever you want to go–” You pull your horse around perpendicular to his, stopping you both in your tracks. 

“I already agreed to your proposition, Geto Suguru, so stop talkin’ before I change my mind,” you tease, unable to wipe the smile from your face. He hits you with that poisonously sweet grin again, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. 

“If I may,” Suguru says as the sun starts to peek over the desert landscape, “your cowboy would like to know where it is he’ll be escorting you next.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[catt-leya]

07/05

rick grimes x fem!reader

warnings: angsty (reader getting stabbed), blood, handjob, age gap, dirty talk, crying Rick and smutty stuff

💗 This fic is a second part but it's not "necessary" to know the first one. That's why it's called Thoughts and not mainly Dirty Pt.2 (together it would be Dirty Thoughts hihi)💗

request, part I

Before you can even say a word, you notice how he closes up again. You notice him stiffening between your legs before he takes a big step backwards.

Without his body heat, the room is far too cold and you stare at him with huge eyes, "Rick?"

Stripped bare, you sit in front of him and ice chills run down his spine.

Fucking hell, he can't bring himself to do that. 

Fucking you is one thing, admittedly completely morally reprehensible, but still explainable. But falling in love with you a completely different.

An old guy who likes to be in a 22 year old pussy is sick, but maybe still understandable. 

But loving a 22 year old completely inappropriate.

He shouldn't have done that. He's the older one and should have brought you to your senses and not given in to your first touch.

You would never let a guy like him screw you if you had a choice. 

He's sure of that.

And now he's standing here, staring at his cum slowly dripping out of you, knowing he's going to hell for this.

Rick takes another step back and he feels like he hit you. 

Like he rammed his fist right into your face.

He bends over and yanks his pants up over his ass like the little room is on fire.

Almost in a panic, he yanks the door open behind him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in the room.

Alone.

The feeling of being abandoned in this way is beyond description.

For a few minutes you are not even able to move an inch.

Stunned, you sit there thinking about what just happened.

Sure, you kind of seduced him, but he wanted you.

Again and again his words flit through your mind and you wonder at what point he had decided to leave you lying there like a piece of used meat.

"Spread your legs for me."

"That's good. Your pussy is so wet and all this just for me."

"I want you to cum on my cock. That's why I stopped."

"Do you realize how deep I am inside you. I'd love to stay right there forever."

Tears well up in your eyes.

It's not like you were expecting a declaration of love or anything like that. You're sure that for Rick, it was nothing more than physical attraction that led him to fuck you in the end. 

But you expected a modicum of respect.

At least to be treated with respect to the extent that he doesn't run away from you while his cum is still leaking out of you and you're sitting trembling in front of him.

Slowly, you stand on your feet and reach for your clothes.

You move as if in a trance and as you open the door and blink, looking into the sun, the only evidence that the whole thing with Rick really happened is your sticky legs.

Used and discarded.

That's how you feel and that feeling isn't going away anytime soon, especially since you really like Rick. 

Yes, crushing on him.

Two weeks go by in which you hardly get to see Rick. 

In which he avoids you at every opportunity.

If anyone around you notices, no one brings it up and you don't say a word about it either.

It's weird because you guys have always been relatively close and now he can't even look at you.

You should be mad and wish him the worst, but every time you catch a glimpse of his dark curls, your heart stops for a brief moment and you have to restrain yourself from running after him.

Even now, you scan the place for him, even though you should already be sitting in the car next to Glenn.

From the second floor window of the jail, Rick watches you walk around the car and get in on the passenger side.

One last time, you lift your head and look straight up at him. 

It's as if you've felt his gaze on you.

Hectically, he takes a step back and leans his back against the wall.

With closed eyes he stands there and doesn't get your gorgeous face out of his eyes. 

Your face that was still beautiful even when you looked at him with tears in your eyes as he forcibly pulled up his pants.

If he was a good man, he would tell you the truth. 

Oh fuck, if he was a good man, he wouldn't have fucked you in the first place.

But he's scared, way too scared of what might happen and some stupid part in his heart might have that little bit of hope that you might want him as much as he wants you. 

He's acting ridiculous and he knows it, but he's not a good man.

As planned, you and your people search the small abandoned town you just discovered the other day and find a surprising amount of stuff, considering the town was looted long ago.

You wander from house to house and in a small room overlooking the surrounding forest you stop.

The house is gorgeous and you can imagine how a small family must have lived in this pretty place.

Maybe they are still alive too, who knows.

You run the flat of your hand over the dusty windowsill and stare at the little specks of dust that you swirl into the air, not noticing at all that you are no longer alone in the house.

Your people are a few houses away and you have remained alone in the house, as you assumed, but when you suddenly hear strange voices downstairs, you flinch.

You quickly look around. 

You can't get out of the window without breaking every bone in your body, and the only other way out is blocked by the people downstairs.

So it's a choice between broken bones and possible direct death.

You choose the broken bones.

As quietly as you can, you pry open the window and hear a deep male voice from below, "I'll check upstairs."

Now you're getting frantic, you may only have a few seconds before the guy comes up the stairs and looks straight into the room where you're standing.

You shoulder your backpack and there's the guy standing in the room, "Hey, guys. Here's a chick."

He wants to reach for you, but you're already hanging on the other side of the window with one leg. 

But before you can swing the other leg to the other side as well, he grabs your lower leg and you stagger your upper body further out the window.

Pure will to survive shoots through your veins as he hisses, "Come on, kid. I'm not going to hurt you."

You kick at him, not caring that you'd land head first on the ground, but the guy doesn't let go and pulls a knife from his pants with his free hand.

You scream out as a second guy appears in the room and you kick again. 

You're lucky he lets go of you this time, but with his other hand, he tries to grab you again and rams the knife into your thigh.

Blood splatters your face and the guy's hand slips off.

You don't even have the chance to scream, because you already fall.

You are lucky that you landed in a bush and only got a few scratches from the fall.

Limping you get up and hear the men shouting something, you run as fast as you can in the direction of your companions.

The fall has ripped the knife out of your thigh and now the blood is running unhindered down your leg, praying that the guy didn't nick any major artery.

You're not fast, but fast enough to reach your group and you gasp, "Another group...two men...knife."

Arm dragging, the others pull you to your car and all you hear is, "It's going to be okay," before you black out.

Rick is helping with the new posts for the fence when he sees your car.

Even from a distance he can see that something is wrong. 

You're speeding toward the fence way too fast.

"Maggie! Open the gate!", Rick's voice echoes across the yard and Maggie, standing closest to the gate, does as he asks.

With screeching tires, the car comes to a stop and the driver gets out, panicked and covered in blood.

Immediately Rick thinks the worst, "What happened? Where is she?"

'She' could have been anyone, but everyone knows who Rick means.

The door to the back seat opens and Rick hears your faint voice, "I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep."

The whole car smells of the iron in your blood and in his whole life he has never had such a panic as the moment he gets to see your pale face.

Immediately he pushes everyone aside and somehow squeezes his big body into the car without hurting you.

"Baby?", pure panic drips from that single word and you smile weakly at him, "Oh, so I have to be stabbed first for you to talk to me again?"

You lazily close your eyes and immediately his rough hand is on your cheek, "Don't fall asleep, yes? You have to stay awake."

"I'm so tired though," you don't even realize how weak your voice is, but Rick is almost cracking up, "Baby, look at me. I know you're tired, but please look at me."

It's exhausting to keep your eyes open, but you oblige, whereupon he reaches under your legs and mutters, "Just look at me, okay? We'll patch you up."

Slowly he lifts you out of the car and you mumble, "Are you going to stay with me this time or are you going to leave me alone again?"

A twinge of guilty conscience presses against his heart and he whispers softly, "I'll never leave you alone again," and he is completely serious.

He expects an answer, but nothing more comes from you and when he gets out of the car with you in his arms, your eyes are closed.

"Baby?" his voice whips up to unimagined heights and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest.

No.

Oh no.

Please don't.

He has no idea if you're even still breathing.

If he looked closely he would see your chest rising and falling but naked panic and fear pumps through his veins and he runs to jail with you in his arms, "Hershel!"

The older man is on the spot and with just a glance at the nearly motionless figure in Rick's arms he shouts, "Put her on your bed!"

The blood from your leg soaks his shirt and as he places you on his bed, his shirt sticks to him like a second skin.

As Hershel comes rushing into the small room, Rick makes as much room for him as the older man needs without leaving your side.

At the head of the bed, Rick kneels down and brushes a few sweaty strands from your face.

"Is she dead?", Rick's voice breaks and Hershel growls, "Calm down, son. She's just passed out."

Immediately Rick fixes his gaze on your chest and for the first time he doesn't look at it suggestively, but waits for the faint breath that lifts your pretty boobs.

When he sees with his own eyes that you're actually breathing, he rests his forehead against yours, gasping, and murmurs, "Oh my God. You're alive. You're alive and you're with me. You're alive."

He would never have forgiven himself if you died and your last memory of him was that he left you alone and vulnerable. 

He never would have forgiven himself if he never told you the truth.

Rick presses his face against your neck so that his nose presses against your pulse and murmurs in a choked voice, "Baby, I love you. I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I promise I'll never leave you again. I love you so much. I love you."

"Rick?", Hershel's voice is soft, "You should tell her that when she regains consciousness."

Face still buried in your neck, he can't hold back the tears and while Hershel saves your life, Rick cries like he never has before.

Groaning softly, you open your eyes and try to adjust to the light conditions.

You're in prison but don't remember how you got here. 

Darkly you remember Rick begging you to look at him and the rest is completely gone.

Lazily, you try to turn onto your side, but bump into something.

Confused, you turn your eyes to your hip and blink several times, thinking it's a dream.

Completely drenched in blood, Rick is sitting on the floor next to the bed you're lying in, his head resting on the mattress next to your hip.

His soft snores fill the small room and you wonder how long you've been unconscious.

"Rick?" your voice is raspy, but immediately Rick startles out of his sleep and stares at you, "You're awake."

Groaning, you frown, "Obviously, or I wouldn't have woken you up after all."

Sliding up to you on his knees, he murmurs softly, "Doesn't have to mean anything. You kept calling my name all night, but you were never awake."

Grumbling, you close your eyes and Rick reaches for your hand, "How are you?"

It's strange to see Rick so interested in you, and the way he clings to your hand feels like he's expecting you to get up and just disappear at any second.

"I feel like my leg was put through a meat grinder, but other than that, everything's top notch," you lazily open your eyes and Rick nods, "Okay, I'll get Hershel."

He stands up, but you squeeze his hand so tightly that he stops beside you, "Wait a bit. I want to be...alone with you."

Slowly, he kneels back down beside you and murmurs, "That can wait."

You roll your eyes and mumble, "No, it can't, because I don't know if you'll slip away and I'll never get to see you again."

Under his lashes, he looks at you, "I'm not leaving. Ever again."

Surprised, your eyebrows twitch up, "Oh yeah? Where'd that change of heart come from? Do I have to almost bleed to death for you to realize it was shitty of you to just leave me sitting there after you had your dick up to your balls in me?"

Rick winces like you hit him and in a perverse way it feels good. 

It feels good that you can hurt him, too.

He doesn't even dare look you in the face as he whispers, "I'm sorry. There were so many different ways to handle the situation and I chose the asshole version."

Now you have his apology, but you still feel so hollow.

Not expecting anything more, you let go of his hand and nod, "Okay, thanks."

He wanted your young body, you're sure of it, and he got it.

That's all it is, and that's all it will ever be.

"Go get Hershel," at your words he looks up and stares at you like you asked for the moon.

You don't care that he admits to being with you all night. 

You don't care that he called you baby at one point, and you don't care that you'll never be anything more than a nice pussy to fuck. 

At least that's what you tell yourself.

A few seconds pass with no one stirring until Rick murmurs, "If you think it's disgusting or perverted, tell me and I'll shut up and never speak of it again."

"What?" you have no idea what he's talking about, but he slumps down and whispers, "I love you."

The silence is oppressive.

You're not even breathing anymore.

Apologetically, he looks at you with his pretty blue eyes, "I love you. I know it's sick and I'm sorry. You don't have much choice when it comes to sex and probably between all the others, I'm the best choice because you've known me the longest. I don't know. But I do know that I shouldn't have fallen in love with you. I mean, I've been thinking about fucking you forever. Way before that incident two weeks ago and even then I had a little crush on you. But finally holding you in my arms was…I was cracking up because I realized that I love you. With all my heart. And I felt like a pervert and then I acted like an ass. Then I held you bleeding in my arms and thought you were going to die thinking that I treated you like shit and not knowing how I felt about you, so I'm telling you now. I love you."

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then you lean forward, and Rick flinches as you place your lips on his.

For a brief moment, he stiffens again before leaning in toward you to put more pressure into the kiss.

You can practically taste the fear he had for you on his tongue and move a little closer to him.

Half erect, your torso brushes his and immediately he releases the kiss, "You should rest, baby."

The endearment, makes your cheeks warm and your lips brush his graying beard, "Hmhm."

Even dirty and sweaty, he smells so incredibly good that you press your nose against his neck and your heart does a somersault because he doesn't pull away from you and instead murmurs, "Baby, please."

Your leg screaming in pain completely fades into the background as you start sucking on his neck.

Rick flinches and digs his fingers into the edge of the mattress you're lying on.

Damn, you know exactly what you're doing and you should take it easy, especially since you weren't even conscious a few minutes ago.

As you bite into his neck, he squints his eyes and tries one more time, "Baby-"

"You know, I haven't been completely honest with you either," your voice is muffled and he only manages a soft "Huh?".

You press your mouth to his jaw, "I told you I was attracted to you because you're so manly."

He tilts his head to the side a little so you have better access.

"Were you just trying to boost my ego and actually think I'm a wimp?" his voice has dropped an octave and you suppress a whimper at the harsh tone in it.

How can it be that he doesn't know the impact he has on you? 

How easily he can make you drool.

Gently, you lick over the new glowing spot on his neck, then whisper, "No, that was the truth. But it's not the only reason I'm so attracted to you."

You move away from him a bit and blink up at him, "You're good. You're a good man and your heart is in the right place. I don't care how old you are, and in a way, maybe your age turns me on a little bit, if I'm being honest. But I didn't want you just for sex and certainly you weren't one choice out of many. In fact, you have no competition at all because you were all I ever wanted. Always."

You bite your lower lip, "You know, I've had a head over heels crush on you forever. I...well I didn't think you could even like me like that."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head and you smile shyly at him, "Well, what I'm saying is that I love you too, Rick."

Blush stains your cheeks and only makes you more gorgeous.

You love him.

You.

Love.

Him.

Without thinking, he presses his lips to yours again and you moan in surprise into the kiss.

Gently, he straightens up a bit and presses you back into your pillow this way.

His beard scratches over your soft skin and you lift your hands to his cheeks to stroke the stubble.

He runs his tongue over your lower lip, "Should I shave my beard?"

He always had to do it with Lori because she had hated the way the stubble felt on her skin. 

After that stopped being an issue, though, he let it grow.

But if you asked him to, he would still get a razor today just so he could keep kissing you.

What he didn't count on, though, is your soft laugh, "It doesn't bother me, Rick."

You tug on his beard, "Besides, it suits you."

Somehow you like the way the stubble feels against your skin.

Especially at the thought of how they would feel between your legs.

Rick's gaze softens and he leans further over you, nudging your leg a little, and you wince.

"Sorry, baby. I'll get Hersehl right now," chuckling, you stop him, "Relax. If I don't move it, it'll be fine."

Skeptically, he looks at you and you slide a hand to his belt, murmuring softly, "If you don't touch me, we'll be fine."

"You don't have to do this," he says, but in his eyes you see once again how much he wants to.

That's the interesting thing about Rick. 

He can make his voice sound cold and impassive and look like he's about to rip your head off, but his eyes give him away.

Every time.

Because they're so bright, they also stand out so incredibly and it's playfully easy to read him in them.

Slowly you undo his belt and he doesn't budge an inch as you breathe, "I want to."

Hectically, his gaze slides to your bandaged leg and you purr, "Just relax. Think of it as a reward for taking such good care of me."

"Okay," his voice is soft and uncertain. 

Frantically, you try to suppress a grin because it's so unlike him, "Stand up."

Immediately he looks you in the face again, sure you've changed your mind and want him to go get Hershel after all, but you whisper hoarsely, "If you stand, I can get to your cock better lying down."

He swallows a whimper.

When did he become such a wimp?

But your wide eyes and soft hand stroking his lower belly make him tremble and he nods.

With soft knees he straightens up to his full height and immediately you pull his pants down enough to get at his cock.

This innocent touch makes him moan harshly and he clings to the bed frame of the bunk bed.

Your eyes are glued to his upper arms, where his biceps now bulge strongly, and you whisper, "Say it again."

Rick looks first to your hand around his cock and then back to your face, "I love you."

You stroke his hardening cock and he moans, "Oh God, I love you so much."

He thrusts his hips at you and you just can't take your eyes off his face, not when he opens his blue eyes and looks at you like you're everything to him. 

Maybe you even are, "I love you so much."

When he fucked you, you were so distracted by your pulsing pussy that you barely paid attention to how gorgeous Rick looks as his whole body shakes and he squints his eyes as if by willpower alone he won't manage to cum in your hand right now.

How could he behave at you any other way when you're lying in front of him, practically begging to jerk him off?

You try to straighten up a bit so you can breathe a kiss on the tip of his cock, and the way he flinches at the brief contact of your lips is enough amends for the stinging pain that emanates from your leg as you move.

Briefly, you think about what would happen if Rick were too loud. 

If someone came into the small cell while you lay flat on the bed and Rick towered over you, fucking your hand.

The thought makes you whimper softly, "Fuck me."

As you expected, he shakes his head, "No, baby. You wanted my cock so jerk me off and I'll fuck you as soon as I can push your legs apart again."

Your grip tightens and you whimper softly, "Please don't talk like that."

Irritated, he frowns and when he sees you slide your free hand between your legs, he grunts, "It turns you on, right?"

Hesitantly, you nod and he grins at you, "Then keep your hands off yourself, baby."

Your hand freezes in mid-motion and Rick continues to fuck your hand, "Good girl. Imagine all the things I'm going to do to you because you're finally mine."

You moan softly, "Rick, please..."

"Shhhh, just jerk me off, baby," he teases you and you know it.

His cock is hard and swollen in your small hand and every time you graze his tip it twitches in your hand.

His knuckles stand out white and he moans harshly, "Where do you want it?"

Greedily you open your mouth and he growls, "Shit you're dirty."

He pushes your hand aside and aims for your wide open mouth as he rubs his shaft and he rests his forehead against his forearm to look down at you as he cums.

Some of his cum hits your mouth and the rest runs down your cheek.

You swallow what he gives you and gather up the rest from your cheek to put your finger in your mouth and suck his cum from your finger.

With his mouth open, he stares down at you.

You are perfect.

In every way, shape, and form.

With a 'plop' you pull your finger on your mouth as you hear Hershel's voice from outside, "Are you done?"

Smutty May Masterlist

Taglist: @hail-yourselves   @bean-is-reading   @chanlvr2   @criminalwalkingsupernatural   @sunshinevirus   @toxic-ink    @kingtwhiddleston    @bloodycherry22    @vane28282    @bamslover    @revesephemeres    @emo-potato-virgil    @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @starsaroundmyscxrss  @starkstiless  @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow @rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy

[j23r23]

Unfinished Business

Tangerine x Reader

The moon hung low over Rome, casting a silver glow on the ancient streets. The air was thick with the aroma of Italian cuisine wafting from nearby restaurants. It was a beautiful night, but for me, it was just another job.

Or so I thought.

I made my way through the narrow, cobblestoned streets of Trastevere, one of Rome's oldest and most charming neighborhoods. The pastel-colored buildings, adorned with ivy were illuminated by warm, golden streetlights and created a scene that felt almost timeless. The murmur of conversations in Italian floated through the air, interspersed with the occasional clink of glasses and bursts of laughter from the outdoor trattorias.

I was dressed in a beige canvas jacket over a loose white shirt, paired with dark jeans and my trusty Doc. Martens. A thin golden necklace adorned my neck, its sun pendant glinting in the moonlight. My dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a pair of small, discreet earrings completed the look.

As I walked, I blended in seamlessly with the crowd of locals and tourists. Aware of my surroundings, I take in every detail. I checked my reflection in the glass of a nearby shop window. My eyes scanned the people behind me, looking out for anything unusual. I adjusted my jacket, feeling the comforting weight of my guns hidden underneath it.

Walking again I turn onto Via della Lungaretta, I could see the bell tower of the Basilica di Santa Maria in the distance. The basilica's facade, stood out even in the light of the evening. I had a rendezvous at a small café just a few steps away from the church.

The café, tucked in a quiet corner, was almost hidden from view by a canopy of wisteria. Its outdoor seating area was filled with round, wrought-iron tables, each adorned with a single candle flickering gently in the night breeze. I slipped into a seat at the far end, my back to the wall, giving me a clear view of the entrance and the street beyond.

I ordered an espresso the bitter aroma mingling with the smell of freshly baked bread and simmering tomato sauce. It was almost enough to make me forget why I was here.

Almost.

As I waited, I couldn't shake the feeling that this night, this job, was going to be different from any other.

I had been summoned last minute for an assignment, an urgent backup situation. The briefing was vague, a hurried phone call from a handler I hadn't heard from in years. The pay was enough to make me pack my gear without asking too many questions.

Little did I know, this job would take me down memory lane. The very streets I walked; were the same ones I had left behind years ago. Memories began to surface—another time, another life. A mission that ended sour, and bonds broken. The weight of those memories loomed over me as I glanced around the café.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, my phone buzzed softly in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw a message from an unknown number. The screen illuminated with a new set of coordinates and a brief message: "Location changed."

The abandoned warehouse was a cavernous space, its corners swallowed by shadows. I stepped cautiously inside, the light filtering through cracked windows casting eerie shapes on the concrete floor. The sound of my boots echoing in the vast emptiness.

"Looks like our backup has arrived," Lemon's voice cut through the silence, tinged with his usual dry humor.

"About time," Tangerine muttered, his tone gruff and annoyed.

The moment I heard Tangerine's voice, my heart skipped a beat. Memories of our teenage years flashed before my eyes—times filled with reckless adventures, stolen goods, and countless nights in jail cells. We had been inseparable, the three of us, until everything fell apart.

We were in a seedy motel room, we had just returned from a grueling mission, one that pushed us to our limits and tested our resolve. But instead of celebrating our success, the atmosphere crackled with frustration and anger. Lemon had left to procure some essentials—food, clean clothes, and the like—leaving Tangerine and me alone, a situation that had become increasingly uncomfortable over the past few months.

I stood by the window, staring out at the neon-lit streets below, trying to gather my thoughts. Tangerine paced the room, his movements agitated, his jaw clenched in a way that signaled trouble brewing.

"You can't keep doing this," I finally spoke up, my voice low but edged with frustration.

"Doing what?" Tangerine snapped, stopping in his tracks to glare at me. "Trying to keep you alive? Making sure you don't get yourself killed because you're too damn reckless?"

His words hit like a slap across the face, igniting a fire within me. "I'm not a child, Tangerine! I can take care of myself. I don't need you constantly hovering over me, questioning every move I make!"

"You call this taking care of yourself?" Tangerine shot back, his voice rising. "You nearly got us both killed back there! If it weren't for Lemon and me cleaning up your mess—"

"You don't get to decide what risks I take," I shot back, my temper flaring. "We're supposed to be partners!"

His jaw tightened even more, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "Partners? A partner thinks about the consequences!"

"Oh, and you do?" I interrupted, standing up to face him squarely. "You act like you're the only one who cares about the consequences. Well, newsflash, Tangerine, I've had enough of your lectures!"

He took a step towards me, his voice low and dangerous. "Maybe if you listened to me once in a while, we wouldn't be in this mess every damn time!"

I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief.

The room seemed to shrink around us. We had faced danger together countless times, but this argument cut deeper than any knife or bullet.

"You're not the same person I used to know," Tangerine said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "You've changed, and not for the better."

His words struck a nerve. "I've changed? You just think of me as an annoyance," I said bitterly. "And the one that has changed is you! You've become controlling, possessive..."

"I'm trying to protect you!" he exploded, his fists clenching at his sides. "Don’t you get it?"

"You're smothering me," I replied, my voice raw with emotion. "I can't breathe with you watching my every move."

Tangerine looked away, his jaw working as he struggled to find the right words.

"I can't do this anymore," I whispered finally, the admission hanging between us like a death sentence.

Tangerine's gaze snapped back to mine, disbelief and hurt warring in his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I can't do this anymore," I said, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "I'm done, Tangerine. I can't, I..."

The silence that followed was deafening. Tangerine stood there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, conflicting emotions flickering over his face—anger, hurt.

"Fine," he said ultimately, his voice clipped and cold. "Go then!"

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. "What the hell are you doing here?" Tangerine's voice was sharp, filled with disbelief and anger.

I turned to face him, my eyes locking with his. "Got a call. Backup needed. Guess they didn't mention who it was."

Tangerine's jaw tightened. "We don't need you."

Before I could respond, Lemon stepped between us. "Oh, for crying out loud, can we save the drama for after the job? We're on the clock here."

I ignored Tangerine's sour demeanor and turned to Lemon, a genuine smile spreading across my face despite the tension. "Lemon!" I said, pulling him into a hug.

Lemon chuckled, returning the embrace, almost breaking my bones. "Hey darling. How are you doing?"

"Better, knowing I’m working with you." I admitted, glancing briefly at Tangerine, who was busy checking his weapon with a scowl.

Lemon sighed, shaking his head. "You two need to work this shit out after this."

Tangerine shot Lemon a glare, but I could sense his frustration. Lemon had always been perceptive, the one who could see through our tough exteriors to the complicated feelings underneath.

As we geared up for the mission, the tension between Tangerine and me simmered just beneath the surface. We moved with practiced efficiency, that came from years of working together, each of us slipping into our roles seamlessly. Despite our issues.

Between gearing up and going over procedures, Lemon found a chance to pull me aside. "You know, Tangerine hasn't been the same since you left," he said quietly, his voice tinged with concern.

I nodded, my gaze drifting towards where Tangerine was meticulously checking his equipment.

"He's not good at expressing it, but he missed you," Lemon continued, his tone earnest. "We both did."

Lemon placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Before I could respond, Tangerine called out, snapping at me. "How many times have you gotten yourself into trouble since you left us?"

"Not as much as you two, I bet," I shot back, unable to resist the jab.

Lemon chuckled, the sound echoing in the warehouse. "Touché."

"Speak for yourself," Tangerine muttered under his breath, though loud enough for all of us to hear.

Lemon laid out the blueprints of the building we were about to infiltrate, his finger tracing the paths we would take. While I was listening Lemon explain the plan, I checked my weapons, my movements precise and controlled.

"You still using that old piece?" Tangerine teased, nodding towards my gun.

"It gets the job done," I replied curtly, my focus unwavering. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

Lemon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You two are unbelievable," he muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice that we couldn't miss.

As we finalized our plan, the tension in the warehouse shifted. This job was risky, the stakes high. The mission was straightforward: infiltrate, retrieve, and eliminate if necessary. But the emotional undercurrent between Tangerine and me was palpable, a distraction we couldn't afford.

"Alright, let's do this," Lemon said finally, his voice cutting through the quiet that settled over us.

With a nod, Tangerine took point, leading us towards the back entrance of the building. The night air turned darker as we moved, shadows melding with shadows, our steps silent.

I couldn't help but feel his scrutiny as we moved through the shadows. "You still relying on brute force for everything?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the comms.

I shot him a sideways glance, irritation creeping into my tone. "At least I don't shadow your every damn move like you do mine," I retorted, adjusting my gear with unnecessary force.

Lemon, sensing the escalating tension, sighed audibly. "Focus, both of you."

Tangerine rolled his eyes, but I could see annoyance in his expression. "You’re still as thickheaded as always," he jabbed, his voice laced with frustration.

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. "And you waste too much time analyzing my every move."

Lemon glanced between us. "You two are like an old married couple," he muttered under his breath, though his words were loud enough for us to hear.

Tangerine and I shot Lemon a glare. "Shut up!" We both hiss.

With a reluctant nod from Tangerine, we pressed forward. The night air grew colder as we approached a courtyard, each step bringing us closer to the heart of the operation. Despite our differences, our training took over, and we moved with practiced efficiency.

As we reached the back entrance, Tangerine signaled for us to halt. He checked his watch, then glanced around the corner cautiously. "Two guards up ahead," he whispered, his tone sharp.

I nodded, my annoyance with him momentarily overshadowed by the need for precision. "I'll take the one on the left," I replied, already moving into position.

Tangerine shot me a skeptical look but didn't argue. "Fine. Just don't screw it up," he muttered.

I smirked, unable to resist the urge to tease him. "Careful, Tangerine. You don't want me to accidentally shoot you in the foot" I quipped, before focusing back on the task at hand.

Tangerine just glared at me with annoyance.

With a silent countdown from Lemon, he and I sprang into action. The guards were swiftly neutralized, our movements synchronized despite our bickering.

We moved as a unit, knowing each other's moves without needing to speak. The emotional walls we had built seemed to soften, if only for the duration of the operation.

As we breached the targeted room, the unexpected happened—a flurry of gunfire erupted from all sides. The air filled with the sharp cracks of bullets ricocheting off metal, and the acrid smell of gunpowder hung heavy.

All three of us instinctively took cover. It was chaos, the plan unraveling. We moved swiftly, communicating in terse commands and covering each other's positions as we fought our way through the ambush.

"Cover me!" Tangerine shouted over the din of gunfire, his voice cutting through the chaos.

I nodded, providing suppressing fire as he maneuvered to flank the attackers. Bullets whizzed dangerously close, the adrenaline pumping through my veins heightening my senses. In the midst of the firefight, Tangerine and I found ourselves back-to-back, a position from countless missions past.

"On your left!" I shouted, spotting an approaching enemy.

Tangerine spun, his movements fluid and precise. With a series of controlled shots, he neutralized the threat without hesitation.

"Thanks," he muttered, the words barely audible over the continuing gunfire.

While Lemon retrieved the crucial files we needed from the secure server, Tangerine and I methodically cleared the warehouse floor by floor.

As we regrouped outside the warehouse, the agitation between us returned, like a storm cloud on the horizon. Our previous exchange of curt commands and coordinated movements had been efficient, but now we were back to our old ways.

"You were reckless," Tangerine yelled, stepping closer, his jaw clenched in anger.

"Reckless? I was doing my job," I countered, meeting his gaze defiantly. "I was covering your ass! If it wasn't for me, you'd be Swiss cheese by now," I retorted sharply, pushing my index finger against his chest.

Lemon, sensing the rising tension, attempted to intervene. "Hey, let's all take a breather here," he interjected calmly, trying to diffuse the escalating confrontation.

But Tangerine wasn't backing down. "Your "job" almost got us pinned down there," he insisted, his voice rising with each word.

I felt a surge of indignation. "And what would you have done differently, huh?" I shot back, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

"I would've followed the plan!" Tangerine snapped, his frustration palpable.

"The plan went out the window the moment we were ambushed!" I argued, my voice rising to match his intensity.

Tangerine turned away abruptly, pacing a few steps as he tried to rein in his temper. "You’re still the same!" he protested, his voice strained.

I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my own emotions. "But we made it out, didn't we?" I said, trying to reason with him.

Lemon's pointed look spoke volumes, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. "You two need to sort this out. Now!"

Tangerine and I stood in the cool night air, as he finally broke the silence. "Why did you leave?"

I took a deep breath, the words heavy on my tongue. "Because you were driving me crazy. You wouldn't stop criticizing me, watching my every move."

He looked away, the pain in his eyes mirroring my own. "I was trying to protect you."

"From what?" I demanded, my voice breaking. "We were partners. I didn't need protecting. I needed you to trust me."

He met my gaze, his blue eyes filled with an intensity that took my breath away. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Because I—" He hesitated, the words catching in his throat.

Lemon's voice cut through the tension. "For the love of God, just say it already. You love her. It's been obvious for years."

Tangerine froze, his gaze locked on mine.

The world seemed to stand still in that moment. My heart raced, emotions swirling in a tumultuous whirlwind. A statement I had never expected, hung now between us.

"Lemon..." Tangerine started, his voice thick with emotion.

Lemon stepped forward, a knowing smile on his face. "I've known for years, Tangerine. You're not exactly subtle."

Tangerine shot him a glare, but there was gratitude in his eyes. "And you never said anything?"

Lemon shrugged. "It wasn't my place. But it's about time you two figured it out."

I turned back to Tangerine, my heart pounding. "I... I thought..." I stood there, comprehending what is happening.

Tangerine took a step closer to me, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do love you. More than I can put into words."

Relief washed over me, mingled with a surge of emotions I had kept buried for so long. "Then why..."

Tangerine reached out, gently cupping my face in his hands. "I was scared," he confessed, his voice raw with vulnerability. "Scared that if I admitted how I felt, it would jeopardize everything. Our partnership, our friendship..."

"Our sanity," Lemon chimed in, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Tangerine ignored him, his focus solely on me. "But tonight, seeing you again, after so long. I can't deny it anymore. I need you, not just as a partner, but as..."

"As something more," I finished for him, my voice trembling with emotion.

He nodded, his thumbs brushing lightly against my cheeks. "Yes. As something more."

Lemon cleared his throat, breaking the intimate moment with a smug grin on his face. "Well, now that we've got that settled, can we please get out of here before the authorities decide to crash your little make-up session?"

We chuckled softly, the air around us at ease now. Together, we made our way through the deserted streets of Rome.

As we walked, Tangerine reached out and intertwined his fingers with mine. It was a simple gesture. I reciprocated the act, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into my skin.

Lemon walked a few steps ahead, occasionally glancing back with a satisfied expression. "You know," he said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time. It's about time you two got your act together."

Tangerine rolled his eyes but didn't let go of my hand. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the nudge, Lemon."

Lemon grinned. "Anytime. But seriously, keep it together, I can’t handle more drama."

Something i put together on a whim...