#and i think they got better over the years from what i know

[neil-gaiman]

Hello, Mr.Gaiman. Nice to meet you

I have been influenced by you since I was a kid (I am in my twenties), from Coraline, to Good Omens, to Sandman, to the Graveyard book and many other stories. The amount of works you have created in your life is astonishing, and you're a reference figure to me in terms of making the best use of my life while I am here. I have been writing stories since I learned how to hold a pencil, and hope to keep doing so until I no longer can.

This year I finally managed the funding and the time to watch your course on masterclass. I am happy to say I have finished it and am now your student, even though we never met. I go back to your words as a mentor and they give me strenght. It is so powerful. It works like witchery when I doubt myself. I am afraid you put a little spell on your words, and that you know this, and will be satisfied to know it works. I call you out on your sorcery.

But well. The thing is. When I was a child, I always thought Coraline was a little dumb for going back to fight the other mother. Why would I, a child, go somewhere I know it's dangerous, to try to overpower an adult that means to harm me, with no certainty of aces up my sleeve? How would I even keep my cool and make sure I don't doubt myself and fawn over the monster to ensure my survival? How would I not freeze? The thought "I am not capable" was plastered all over my head when I was a kid.

As a child, bad things happened to me. I may have been battling depression from since then, and I doubted I could make it to adulthood. I coped by shrinking myself as much as possible. Not daring to do anything. I couldn't understand coraline. I hated her.

I forgot about that as I grew up. Yet, on your masterclass, I got to know what truth you wanted to tell with the story I couldn't understand:

"Being brave doesn't mean you're not scared. It means you're scared and do it anyway."

Currently, I take medication to lighten my anxiety and depression. It helps, but what works the most is staying consistent in things I care about and that ensure my autonomy, even when I feel like shrinking again. I am now able to understand coraline. With my adult eyes, it's not a story that makes me feel resentful, anymore. I can see and think, I too and scared. I too wish things were easier. But it's ok for reality to be grey and boring, my mind and my attitude can die it colorful. It's scary, it takes work, I may feel like it doesn't matter sometimes, I may feel like never solving anything and keeping stuck is better than taking that shaky step forward. But I step forward. And I do it anyway.

That's all. Thanks for giving me the time of your day.

Thank you for writing that. It helped.

[slutforln4]

TWO PRIZES

🖇️ lando norris x f1 journalist!reader

🖇️ in which you realise lando wasn’t just the driver you interviewed

🖇️ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

🖇️ author’s note: the bits in italic are her memories :)

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Monaco GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy.“This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a card with his number on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “Victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[dudeitiskarev]

What If… | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: Aaron gets sick on the way home from a case, and since his symptoms are too similar to pregnancies, Reid introduces him to ‘sympathetic pregnancy’. Which makes Aaron wonder… what if?

Tags/warnings: sick Hotch :(; established relationship; sympathetic pregnancy symptoms; pregnancy scare; suggestive content; Jack and Haley don’t exist in this universe.

Word count: 1.4k

Author's note: something short, sweet and silly to keep my creative juices flowing. Hope you like it!

HOTCH MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The last time Aaron got sick was over four years ago. 

Back then, he had no one to look after him, and he refused to go to the ER because it was just a cold (it took him two weeks to get a full recovery, and if it weren’t because of Penelope’s magic potion, it would’ve lasted a month). 

Now, he couldn’t wait to get home. To you.  

"No offense, Hotch, but could you please sit...over there?" JJ gestured with her head to the empty seat at the end of the jet after Hotch returned from the toilet for the third time. All the color of his face was gone. "I don't want to bring some flu home with Henry."

"It's not the flu," Aaron's voice came out raspy, and chose to sit next to Reid instead of next to JJ. His throat was still burning from puking everything he’d eaten for breakfast. It must’ve been something he ate.

"You've been feeling weird for the two days," Rossi commented, "In the mornings."

"Ugh, morning sickness is the worst," JJ casually said through a small laugh.

Emily laughed, too. "Are you implying Hotch might be pregnant?" 

Everyone laughed except for Reid. "Studies have shown that men can get pregnancy symptoms while their wives are pregnant,” he began. “It's called sympathetic pregnancy."

"You mean Hotch's girl might be pregnant?" Morgan quirked his brows.

A thick silence filled the jet, and then Rossi asked, "Have you guys been trying?" 

Hotch merely shook his head. It had been a topic of conversation before getting married, of course, and the plan of trying for a baby was after five years of marriage (you really liked each other’s company as it was) and it’s only been two. 

The idea of Hotch’s girl being pregnant vanished as quickly as it came, but Hotch didn’t let it go. He didn’t think you could be pregnant, but the constant thought of you carrying his child helped him get through the three-hour journey back home. 

He called your name as soon as he shut the front door, even though he knew you weren’t back from work just yet (he didn’t want to tell you he was feeling sick, or else you would’ve dropped everything to be there when he made it back). 

His entire body was aching by now and all he managed to do was strip out of his work clothes and get in bed, turning himself into a shivering cocoon. 

The bed sank next to him, and a soft kiss landed on his cheek, pulling him out of his not-so-deep slumber.

“Hi.” Your bright eyes were right there on his face.

“Hey.” He fluttered his eyes open to capture your whole beauty. 

"Why are you in bed?" You asked with half-a-pout. "Are you feeling sick?" Your hand flew to his forehead to feel his temperature, and your face dropped. “You’re burning.”

"I feel better now." He snuck one arm out of the bed covers and caressed your cheek to greet you properly. He’d missed you so much. 

"Why didn't you tell me?” You were quick to reprimand him with a caring frown. “I could've brought you some medicine."

"I don't know, I don't think I need it.” He shook his head, raising his brows. “I feel much better now."

He did feel better now that you were there, but he still didn’t feel quite good. 

"You look pale. Have you eaten?" You asked and he shook his head. "I’m gonna make you some soup," you replied, already getting up.

"No, just…” he grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you back to bed.  “Stay here with me for a while?" 

Your whole body softened. You gave in right away, kicked off your shoes and clasped every bit off you with his body, ending up nose to nose. 

The thought of you being pregnant came to him again and he couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” You frowned.

"You know Reid," he started. "He’s the smartest person I know and he mentioned this thing that happens to men when their wives are pregnant."

"This thing?" you snickered, running your fingers through the side of his head.

"When men show pregnancy symptoms and it's the woman who actually is?"

You paused all movements for a moment. "What are you saying?"

"I don't know." He merely shrugged. "I thought it was...interesting."

You pecked his lips and went back to stroke his hair again. "You think I could be pregnant?"

"I don’t know, could you?" 

"I don’t think so. I haven't felt anything strange." You shrugged, too. 

Aaron placed a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth and stayed there, lips glued on you as he asked, mumbling, "Didn't you say the other day that your...boobs were sore?"

"Yeah?"

"And that food craving you had at almost midnight?" he then teased by your ear.

"We had," you laughed at the ticklish feeling of his deep voice. 

“Alright,” he laughed, pulling back. “You’re right.”

"But I guess it's…” You breathed in. “Unusual."

"A little." He smiled. "How effective is your birth control?"

"Very, but there’s always the risk."

You stare at each other for a moment. There was a gleam in your eyes he was sure it had some reflection of his own. He loved you so much. It wouldn’t be so bad if you were pregnant. 

“I’m gonna go to the drugstore and get you some medicine. You’re not looking very well.” You kissed the top of his head and left him there.

In the store, you looked up and a bunch of pregnancy tests winked at you. You hesitated whether to buy one or not. You hadn't felt anything odd that could point out to a pregnancy—besides what Aaron had mentioned.

"Is that all?" The cashier asked you.

You paused, looking up again. "And two pregnancy tests, please."

Soon, you were back home and found Aaron half asleep in the same position you’d left him. You told him to sit upright as you went to prepare him some herbal tea for his stomach to complement the medicine.

“This can help you for a few hours.” You sat next to him and handed him the warm mug. “But if you get worse we’ll have to go to the ER.” 

“Thanks, honey,” he replied.

“And…I bought these, too." You showed him the pregnancy tests. You’d made sure they were different brands just in case one of them wasn’t of good quality. "You planted a seed in my brain, so I guessed we could rule it out right away instead of having the uncertainty.”

“Sorry, I just…” Aaron shut his eyes for a second in deep thought. “I didn’t think it could happen before our plans since everything has turned out exactly how we want.”

“I know, but if it’s something you want to talk about… make some plan changes, we definitely should.”

He reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s rule it out first.”

“What if it's positive?" You tilted your brows with curiosity. 

"I don't know.” He smiled. “What if?" 

Maybe it was the tea you’d made him, but the color of his face was back. You went to the bathroom to get it all over with and were in and out in less than five minutes. 

“Now we wait.” You put both tests on the nightstand and set the timer for three minutes. 

Aaron tapped the bed next to him for you to join him and he pulled you close by your waist, kissing your temple. 

"I’m scared, what if it’s actually positive?”

“We’re gonna have to make some… adjustments in our lives. But now or later, I want you to know that I want it all,” he confessed, planting a squishy kiss on your cheek. 

The alarm went off and you reached for both tests right away, holding them up. 

'NOT PREGNANT', showed the first one, and a single line showed the other one.

“Okay, I’m a bit relieved.” You put the tests aside and looked at him. “And you’re… not. Are you okay?”

“I am I just…” he licked his lips. 

“Aaron, do you really want to have a baby soon?”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “We’re perfect like this. Is just… seeing JJ with her baby does make me want to hurry some of our plans sometimes.”

“That sounds like baby fever,” you teased him. 

Aaron shook his head and pulled you down in bed, attacking your face with kisses and making a sweet sound after each one. 

“Oh, someone’s feeling better,” you laughed. “Maybe we could just stick to practicing.”

“Well”—he kissed right below your ear—”I am, in fact, feeling much, much better.”

[megalony]

Resemblance- Part 4

This is the latest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for such amazing feedback.

I hope you're ready for this!

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @senjoritanana @kniselle @eleventhdoctorsangel

Series Masterlist

Summary: When Evan introduces (Y/n) to Eddie, she resembles someone he used to know. And he can't help himself when he's around her, leading to frightening behaviour.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to prize it out of you?"

Evan hung his head down and tensed his shoulders, leaning his weight forward onto his arms while his hands planted down on the counter. He could feel his spine clicking into place while his weight shifted from foot to foot.

He never knew how to stand or how to act when Maddie gave him that look. Her big sister look. Her elder sibling look. The look that had changed into a knowing, motherly look since she'd had Jee. It was an expression that made Evan feel like he was sixteen years old all over again, making mistakes and only trying to hide them from his sister.

Her opinion and her views of Evan were the only ones he cared about. He had grown up disappointing his parents, just being in the room seemed to disappoint them. But he strived to make Maddie proud, she was the only person in his family that he cared about.

And right now, when he could feel her gaze burning into him and he knew those brows were raised and her lips were pursed, he felt like melting on the spot. He felt like babbling and spilling everything out to her to see if she could make some sense out of all this.

"Buck, what's going on?" Maddie slid a steaming cup of coffee across the counter and curled her hands around her own signature cup which had Mrs Han painted across the side in italics. A wedding present from a friend.

This would be their third cup of coffee each, but who was counting?

Coffee was the best Maddie could do when she knew her brother was due on shift in an hour. Otherwise she would have cracked open the bottle of red wine in the fridge and poured away until her little brother finally spilled what was on his mind.

He and (Y/n) had been here for almost two hours now and Maddie could tell something wasn't right. And she didn't want to ask (Y/n) what was wrong and risk making her nervous when this was the first time (Y/n) had come over to her house.

They had all had a chat, enjoyed spilling some gossip together and Maddie got to know (Y/n) better. But now, with (Y/n) being stolen away into the living room with Jee, Maddie finally had a chance to ask Evan what was going on.

"Chim said you and Eddie had a fight at the station last week, like, a proper fight. That's never happened before, it must be serious."

Maddie wished her husband had known more. She wished Chimney had all the gossip so she didn't have to ask Evan what was going on. She would of had time to think and come up with ways to help and some solutions if Chimney had delved into things at work. But she understood that he didn't want to be nosey and he couldn't outright ask Bobby what was going on when the Captain made it clear that this was a personal issue, not for everyone to know.

But Maddie had never known Evan and Eddie to fight in all the years she had seen them be friends. They were like brothers, they had the kind of relationship she envisioned Evan would of had with Daniel if he were still alive today.

And Evan never started fights. When he was in college he was a sweet, joyous, outgoing soul who never put a foot wrong. If someone started a fight with Evan, he would barely throw a punch in retaliation and now he was older, Evan didn't start fights. If someone started on him, he might throw a punch in defence but that was as far as he would go.

For Evan to start a fight with Eddie and tackle him, especially when they were both at work, it meant this was serious and Maddie wasn't sure she would like the answers she was about to find out.

"I don't know what to do, Maddie. I came home last week, and he… he had (Y/n) up against the wall, shouting at her and calling her Shannon."

It was as if the light faded out of Maddie's eyes when she realised what Evan was trying to tell her. Reading between the lines made her soul leave her body and sent her coffee cup trembling between her fingers. She didn't have Eddie down as the type who would boarder on delusional or someone who would go to the point of frightening those closest to him.

"And he's done this twice. He kissed her at the wedding, he's got it in his head that she's some sort of second chance. He can't control himself around her and I don't know what to do."

"My wedding?" Her lower lip jutted out and a shaky breath parted through her lips before she took a deep breath. Her hands pressed into the counter, mirroring Evan's previous stance that changed so he could rub the back of his neck.

Evan had gone a week with limited contact with Eddie. The most they had spoken was a few exchanging texts for when Evan could pick Chris up and then drop him back off since they had made cakes for his bake sale three days ago. And Chris could tell something was wrong when Evan didn't come inside and have tea with him and Eddie when he dropped him back home. He knew something was up when Evan left without exchanging so much as a hello with Eddie.

He couldn't. He couldn't look at him without hearing Eddie's voice in the back of his head, snidely remarking how he wanted to be with (Y/n). How he thought she was his second chance. How selfish he knew he was for thinking Evan was robbing him of something special.

It was all Evan could see, think and hear when he was around Eddie and he was glad they were on opposite shifts. Limited contact was the best thing for now, but they couldn't carry on like this. They couldn't avoid each other forever. They couldn't hang out with the team and give one another the cold shoulder. They couldn't do this and risk upsetting Chris. Something had to change.

"Has he spoken to anyone? Those therapy sessions he was having, they might help… he's not over Shannon if he's looking for someone to replace her."

"I don't know if he will."

"Then don't give him a choice."

Something similar to a chuckle escaped Evan's lips and he looked across at his sister with confusion pooling in his eyes.

He took a long gulp of his coffee, delighting in the way it fizzled on his tongue and made his throat feel raw and tingled down to his stomach. How could he not give Eddie a choice? What was he supposed to do, drive him to mandated therapy? Get Bobby to demand he go to meetings or he couldn't return to work? Evan doubted blackmailing Eddie into therapy sessions would make him open up and go in there with an open mind.

"What? Just walk him in there and tell him he has to talk?"

"Look, you're important to Eddie, just like he means a lot to you, right? So if he truly cares about you like I think he does, then tell him. Tell him the only way to work this out is to talk it through, tell him he needs to work this out and then you can sit down with him and see where you go from here."

She knew the boys were close, they were like blood brothers. So if Eddie truly wanted to save this friendship and try to continue working together, he would agree. He would talk to someone and try to help himself and let everyone else help him. And then they could talk this through and try to patch things over and move forward.

Eddie clearly needed help and they had to get him that help, whether he thought he needed it or not.

"You think he will?" Evan tried not to let hope flood his voice, he could fill himself with false hope right now. He'd done that enough in his life and it gave him nothing but disappointment. But he was desperate for things to work out and pick up from this. He didn't want things to get to a lower point than this.

He straightened up, clicking his spine into place and tilting his head from side to side to crack his neck. But he paused when he felt Maddie's hand curve around his. Her fingers were soft and warm and made him think back to the times when she would sit with him in the dead of night after he'd had a nightmare.

The way she smoothed her hand up and down the back of his hand and wrist made Evan feel lightheaded and warm and cared for and understood, all the things he only ever felt when he talked to his sister about his problems.

"I think you're just as important to him as his family, and he won't want to lose you." Her smile brought a sense of calm washing over Evan and he curved his wrist so he could give her hand a squeeze. "How's (Y/n) doing with all of this? I can't imagine it being easy."

"She's okay, she… I think she thought I'd be angry at her. As if,"

Evan took the chance to move away from the kitchen counter and peek around the doorway into the living room.

Joy and a whole mountain of love soared through Evan's chest when he looked over at his partner. Seeing (Y/n) knelt down in front of the coffee table with a flurry of plastic cakes and teapots and fake cups and saucers surrounding her and Jee happily at her side, the sight did something to Evan.

The sight made his heart skip a beat and had heat rising to his cheeks and flooding his skin until he was turning red.

He loved how sweetly (Y/n) smiled at Jee and nodded, holding out her cup for a pretend refill. And he found himself grinning as he watched her decline another saucer with a plastic cupcake on top, saying she'd already had four cakes and was about to explode.

It was a sight that cemented things for Evan. It was something that made all the nerves and adrenaline in his stomach die down and replace them with gratitude and a homely feeling.

That was what he wanted. (Y/n) was what he wanted. Any future Evan tried to imagine, he couldn't think of one without (Y/n) being a part of it.

When he thought of coming home from work in a few years time, he could see (Y/n) at home with him. When he thought about moving out of the loft and getting a proper home like Maddie had done here with Chimney, Evan saw (Y/n) by his side. When he saw himself with kids, this was the sight that came to the front of his mind. (Y/n) with kids. With their kids.

He loved how Jee attached herself to (Y/n). He loved how easily (Y/n) fell into place with Maddie as if they had known each other their whole lives. He loved how the rest of the team intergrated (Y/n) as one of them and took to her like she was always supposed to be part of their group, their team, their family.

"Can you blame her? She must have been worried… I know when I thought I caused problems between Chim and Hen it scared me. She wouldn't want to ruin your bond with Eddie."

Maddie could sympathise and see things through (Y/n)'s perspective. She could see how (Y/n) would think Evan might get angry at her, think she was trying things on with Eddie or deliberately causing problems because of how close they were. She could see that (Y/n) would panic about causing waves within the team since they were such a close-knit family.

A soft, nurturing smile fluttered across Evan's lips while his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink which made him look bashful, especially with the way he looked at his sister through his lashes.

He took another daring look over his shoulder, making sure (Y/n) was still occupied trying to handle the amount of pretend refills his niece was handing over. His lips rolled together as he sighed and looked down at his feet while his hand rummaged around in his jacket pocket, trying to find something he needed his sister's opinion on.

"What do you think?"

Maddie took another sip of her coffee before she put her mug down and held her hands out with an inquizitive smile. She rose a brow and waited for her brother to hand over whatever was in his pocket. But the moment the square velvet red box was in her hands, her heart jumped up into her throat and her jaw slacked.

"Buck… oh my god." All she could do was dart her eyes between the ring and her brother, staring up at him with anticipation and love and hope and a little confusion held within her chocolate eyes. "You're sure?"

There was no malice or hidden insult or trepadation in her voice. All Evan could hear was love and giddiness that made her tone rise an octave and had her voice breaking off at the end.

She had never known her brother become this hopeful and serious about a relationship before. What he had with Abbi was somewhat serious, but there had been a lot of problems with them. His relationship with Taylor had been very one-sided with Evan putting all the effort and love into it only to get tiny reflections and gratitude in return. And she had been selfish which fed off of Evan's giving nature.

He had had serious relationships before, but none of those had ever gotten to the point where he would ever think about marriage.

What he had with (Y/n) was different.

When Evan looked at her he could see a future, he could see something he desperately wanted and something that made his heart soar and had his nerves tingling and fizzling like he was electrified. He was hopeful when he looked at (Y/n). He was in love when he looked at her and everything about her resonated with Evan's soul.

He nodded, trying not to bite down too harshly on his lip and tear through the skin. "You think she'll like it?"

"She's gonna love it." The excitement coursing through Maddie had her jumping from foot to foot. She was itching to go through there now and get her brother down on his knee just so she could witness the proposal and share this excitement.

They were both finally going to be happy. After everything the siblings had been through, this was their time. Maddie had her husband and her daughter and Evan had found someone he wanted to commit to. Things were finally looking up for them.

"When are you gonna ask?" Maddie's hands were shaking when she carefully closed the lid and gave the box back to Evan.

"I would of asked last week, Eddie kind of dampened the mood. But I can't wait much longer, I might try after work tomorrow." Evan's shoulders slacked and he held his arms out when Maddie moved over to wrap him up in a hug. She pressed her cheek against his sternum and gave a tight squeeze, making a quiet 'aww' sound that had Evan laughing.

He would of asked (Y/n) at some point last week, if everything with Eddie hadn't blown up in their faces. After that, he couldn't find the right time without feeling like a shadow was looming overhead.

But he had to ask soon, he couldn't wait another day. He wanted to ask and see if (Y/n) would say yes to spending the rest of her life with him. He wanted to see the ring on her finger and tell people and show her off and say that she was going to be his wife.

He had technically already asked her at the bachelor party anyway, declaring he was going to marry her at some point. And (Y/n) hadn't objected to the idea, so he was confident the answer would be yes.

He just needed to find the right time to ask.

***

A quiet grumble broke free from (Y/n)'s lips and she nuzzled her nose into the pillow, inhaling Evan's scent as her mind tried to go back to sleep but her ears picked up on something.

It didn't feel like she had been asleep for long. Whenever Evan had been on a night shift recently, (Y/n) ended up staying up late. She didn't like sleeping alone. She didn't like being in the apartment on her own, it just didn't feel right without Evan here.

Her head groggily lifted up from the pillow and she kept her eyes closed, focusing all her efforts to tune her ears into what noise had woken her up. She knew she heard something. The sound of a lock faintly clicking and hinges squeaking made (Y/n)'s heart add in an extra two beats to her rhythm and the adrenaline that pooled in her stomach made (Y/n) push up into a sitting position.

It was the front door.

Why was Evan coming home already?

Opening her eyes, (Y/n) glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly midnight. Evan was on the seven til seven shift, he wasn't supposed to be finished until seven in the morning and with getting showered and getting ready, he shouldn't be home until almost eight. He had been at work for almost five hours, why was he coming home so early?

Was he feeling sick? Had he had some type of accident? Surely not, or else he would be at the hospital rather than coming home like this. Maybe he had ended up switching shifts. Perhaps something had gone wrong and he physically couldn't carry on with his shift.

Every thought possible rattled through (Y/n)'s brain as she rubbed her eyes, feeling her body waken up immediately with worry for her partner.

Her legs swung over the side of the bed and her feet sank down into the fluffy rug that felt like walking on candy floss.

Her fingers tangled in her hair and she padded across the room, jumping onto her tiptoes when the cold laminate floor sent shockwaves through her soles and up her legs. She squinted when the lights downstairs turned on, basking the apartment in a warm orange glow that resonated up the stairs.

(Y/n) reached out for the bannister but she didn't take one step when she looked down.

Something horrid plunged into her heart and stole her breath and for a dreaded moment, her balance shifted and she almost toppled forwards. It took all her strength to regain her balance and shuffle backwards, away from the top of the stairs. All while she couldn't catch one breath and her lungs started to ache and burn from lack of oxygen.

Eddie.

Her hand pressed to her mouth to stop herself from making a sound while her other hand clenched the bannister until her nails were creating indents in the wood and she was about to get splinters beneath her skin.

What was he doing here?

Why was he here at midnight? Why did he just let himself in instead of knocking?

Both (Y/n) and Evan clearly forgot Eddie had a key. Evan gave him a key years ago because of how frequently he came round for a drink or a catch up and when he was dropping Chris off. Not to mention for emergencies. With everything Evan had gone through, he felt afraid that some mornings he might not wake up or he might slip back into a coma. He wanted Eddie and Bobby and Maddie to have keys in case he wasn't well or something happened to him and they needed to come round and check on him.

And of course Evan hadn't asked Eddie for the key back. They were still trying to patch their friendship back together and asking for the key would be like terminating their friendship or implying Evan didn't trust Eddie. But he didn't trust Eddie, at least not around (Y/n).

Oh God. Did Eddie know Evan was at work tonight?

Is that why he's here, because he knows I'll be alone?

Every part of (Y/n) began to shake as she shuffled backwards, trying not to pick her feet up in case she made echoes on the laminate. But it didn't really matter whether Eddie knew she was awake or not. She wasn't going to be able to sneak past him to get out the flat and it wasn't like she could hide up here in the bedroom or climb down from the balcony. She was effectively trapped.

Her hands reached out for the bed and she used it as leverage to lower herself down onto the rug. She shakily took her phone from the bedside table and hunkered down, curling over until her chest was pressed down against her thighs.

She clicked on Evan's contact and held the phone to her ear, suddenly realising how loud the dialling tone sounded. Would Eddie be able to hear it from downstairs? Would he know she knew he was here? Would he get angry?

Evan didn't answer.

(Y/n) didn't expect him to, he was on a night shift and she knew they got a lot of call outs during the night. He was probably in the truck or in the middle of a call with his phone back in the truck or back in his locker at the station.

Who else could she call? She didn't have Maddie's number, and she wasn't sure if Maddie would wake up this late in the night if her phone rang, some people didn't. She didn't know if Maddie would even come down here if (Y/n) asked her for help. She didn't want to be a burden and have the first time she called Maddie be because she needed to ask for assistance.

Bobby.

As if a lightbulb had gone off above her head, (Y/n) turned to Evan's bedside drawer. She shakily dragged it open and tried to be as quiet as she could when she pushed a few things to the sides. Moving past the medication boxes, earbuds, the old notepad for scribbling important details down. The five different coloured pens he had in there which he was always messing about with. She ignored the ball of blue tac and the few important documents he had folded in the back of his drawer.

Her fingers latched around the thin black leather book that she remembered Evan showing her a while back.

His address book.

It didn't matter that Evan had a very good memory for certain things such as movie quotes, exact conversations from five years ago, random facts people told him in passing. People's middle names or the name of their pets. Evan was terrible with addresses.

He could visualise and remember exactly where someone's house was, but he never remembered street names or house numbers.

(Y/n) flicked to the letter B, already knowing Evan would have him under Bobby rather than Bobby Nash. And she could feel tears of relief pooling in her eyes when she noticed in the dim lighting that Evan had indeed written Bobby's number down beneath his address.

Just in case his phone got lost or crashed; it didn't matter that Evan knew Bobby's number by heart. Emergency situations were always catered for.

(Y/n) tapped the number into her phone, jumping against the bed when she heard Eddie's footsteps thudding about downstairs. She had no idea what he was doing and she didn't want to know either. She just wanted him to stay down there and not dare to come up here.

(Y/n) pressed her forehead against the mattress and curved her left arm around her waist to try and keep herself calm and slow down her breathing. She could feel her tears soaking into the mattress and she sniffed, trying to control herself but it was becoming hard.

She felt stupid. She felt like a child for panicking this much and not knowing what to do, but Eddie frightened her.

Evan told her not to talk to Eddie again. He told her to stay away from Eddie until Evan had sorted everything out and made sure Eddie was okay and under control. Being alone with him wasn't an option and Bobby said she was a trigger for Eddie and therefore shouldn't be around him in case she set him off.

But this wasn't her fault. She hadn't asked him round or even let him in, he had done this all on his own.

"Hello?" Bobby's confused voice sent waves of relief rushing through (Y/n) and a tidal wave of tears soaked into the bed when she realised he'd answered. She had clearly woken him up. He was still on the A shift and that meant he was mostly on days. Bobby was the captain and therefore he needed to be at the station during the day to sort shifts and do the occasional meeting as well as being on the floor with the team.

She felt bad for waking him up, but at least he was at home and he had answered and she knew he would help her.

"Bobby? I-it's (Y/n)."

"Oh, hi. Are you okay, is something wrong?" He wasn't stupid. He could hear the panic in her voice and he knew anyone calling him at midnight had to be either drunk out of their heads or in need of help. "Eddie's here." Her voice shook despite how quietly she was whispering down the line.

"Where? At your apartment? Don't let him in I'll-"

"He has a key, he's already inside." She was sure she heard a few curse words muffle down the line. "What do I do?"

"If you can get to the bathroom, get in there and lock the door. Or if you can make it out the apartment, get out and find a neighbour. I'm getting dressed, I'll come down to you and I'll contact the station to get a message across to Buck. Don't worry, okay?"

Something about his voice and his words were soothing, like he was already in Captain mode and he knew exactly what to do and how to handle this situation. But (Y/n) couldn't help but worry. She knew what Eddie was like when he was round her and she knew what she had seen so far was only the tip of the iceberg.

(Y/n) wanted to say thank you. It was on the tip of her tongue until she heard footsteps. Loud footsteps. Worn heels stomping against the stairs.

Her eyes lifted towards the stairs in the corner of the room and her thumb ended the call before she could try and say any sort of thank you or another plea for help. She dropped her phone on the rug and pushed up until she could slump onto the bed to sit down.

She didn't want Eddie to know she had called for help; that might be something that would push him into a manic episode and (Y/n) couldn't afford that happening.

She scrunched the covers up in her fists and coiled inwards until she was as small as she could make herself. She squinted when Eddie flicked on the bedroom light but seeing him stood there at the top of the stairs made her lips pull down into a deep frown.

He looked disshevelled. Hair askew on his head in all directions. His shirt was glued to his frame and looked like he had spilt something down the front. He was leaning heavily on the wall like he couldn't hold himself up. His pupils were blown wide but his eyes were half-lidded like he was ready to drop down and sleep on the floor.

He was drunk.

The last time he had been drunk around (Y/n) he had started to get nasty. He had grabbed her at the bar and started getting frustrated when he talked to her. His alternate fantasy must come alive when he was drunk because she could see he wanted to smile when he looked at her.

Was he seeing Shannon when he looked at her? Did he feel like he had gone back in time and was back to the part of his past where he was somewhat happily married?

Did he even know what he was in Evan's flat right now, or did looking at (Y/n) make everything else blur? Could Eddie only focus on looking at her and thinking he was back with Shannon?

"You're awake."

His words stunned (Y/n) for a moment. She wasn't expecting that, although she wasn't too sure what she was expecting him to say if she was being honest with herself.

She thought maybe he would go straight into a rant, that he would shout at her for ruining things with Evan. Maybe he might scream at her for changing things at work, for making him an outcast and causing Evan to switch to the B shift. (Y/n) wondered if he would look at her and straight away start calling her Shannon and telling her how much he missed her and wanted her to come home. Maybe she anticipated him lunging at her and yelling.

A soft, if surprised, statement like that wasn't what she expected, but it calmed down her raging heart that was thumping against her ribs so hard and fast she felt like a race horse.

"I- I heard you come in… are you okay?" Her foot glided across the carpet and every time her toes brushed her phone, she envisioned it ringing.

She wasn't sure whether it was on silent or not. If it was on silent, Eddie wouldn't hear it if Bobby tried to call her back or if Evan called when Bobby finally managed to get hold of him. But if it wasn't and someone called her, Eddie would know. He would know straight away that she had tried to call for help because who would ring her at this time of night unless for an emergency or because she had called for help?

"Sure. I'm just fine when you're here, and I can't have you."

His name was on the tip of her tongue but (Y/n) quelled the thought to speak and settled for biting her tongue instead. He said before that he loved it when she said his name. Something in her voice had to remind him of Shannon and (Y/n) didn't want to do anything to lead Eddie on or antagonise him and if he liked hearing his name from her lips, then she couldn't speak it.

Sadness pooled in her eyes, but she couldn't find any response. What was she supposed to say to that? How could she show Eddie that she felt sorry for him, that she sympathised with him and somewhat understood his pain. She understood the longing he felt and how desperate he was to see and be with Shannon again.

If something happened to Evan and (Y/n) saw someone who looked so familiar, she had no idea how she would act or what she would say or do. She might attach to that person and want to be around them, want to linger in the memories they provoked.

"Buck told me to stay away. He won't even speak to me, you know, he only texts to ask about Chris. He said I can't go near you, and he told Bobby. He told Bobby I'm messed up, and now the Captain told me to stay away from you too. You're well guarded."

His tone was cynical and the smile on his face was sharp like broken glass, but it was the crease in his narrowed eyes that set (Y/n) on edge. All he needed was a knife or a gun in his hand and he would look every bit like a derranged criminal.

"They're just worried about you, they want to help-"

"How is Buck keeping you from me helping?" He snapped his jaw like a crocodile and took a step closer until he was stood at the end of the bed. It was as if he thought she was a memory and he didn't dare touch her, not yet. Not until he had reassured himself that she wasn't about to disappear.

"How should we help you?"

Her words stunned him. Mainly because Eddie didn't want their help, and partly because he didn't think he needed it. Well, some of him did. The sensible part of his brain knew he was in the wrong and that he had to clean up his act and stop this before he ruined every good relationship he had in his life.

He was straining his friendship with Bobby and the team. He was breaking every bond he had with Evan. He was going to emotionally damage his son by doing this. And he was ruining the friendship he could of had with (Y/n) by acting out against her.

But he didn't know how to stop, he didn't know how to ask for help or what kind of help he needed. All Eddie knew was the way (Y/n) made him feel when he was around her and it was a feeling that he wanted to savour. He wanted the nostalgia she brought him when he looked at her. He wanted the butterflies in his chest when he heard her voice, or the way he felt euphoric when he heard her say his name.

Most of all, Eddie wanted that spark in his chest and the fire in his blood when he kissed her. He wanted that light back in his system and that feeling of being alive, being in love and being whole again when he touched (Y/n).

Why was that so wrong?

"I just wanna be with you. Do you know how hard it is to look at you and not reach out for you? Do you know what it's like to miss you so fucking much and then have everyone tell me I can't ever touch or kiss you again? That you're not mine?"

Tears spilled down Eddie's face and the redness beneath his eyes suggested this wasn't the first time he had been crying tonight, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

She isn't mine. She loves Buck. He has her.

Eddie could think of nothing else but those three little variations and they weren't what he wanted to hear.

I'm coming home. I love you. I'm yours, Eddie.

Those were the varying combinations of three words that Eddie was desperate to hear. Those were the words Eddie heard in the dead of night. They were what he tried to listen out for whenever she spoke. That was what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Why wouldn't she just say them? Why couldn't she love him back? Why did she have to belong to Evan?

"I don't know what that's like, and I'm so sorry." (Y/n) bowed her head and looked down to her hands that unravelled from the cover so she could run her fingers up and down her thighs instead. "Why are you here?" She tried to keep her voice as gentle as possible so Eddie wouldn't think she was being snide or rude.

But if Eddie knew all of this, if he understood that (Y/n) wasn't his and that he shouldn't be here, then why turn up? Why come down here at all if he knew it was going to be the wrong decision? How was this going to help him if he felt guilty for being here and if he knew everyone was going to hate him for making this choice?

"Because if I can't have you, neither can he."

(Y/n) didn't see Eddie move until it was too late. Her eyes bulged in her sockets and her lips parted but nothing came out when Eddie's hand latched over her chin.

The force he had was unmatched and the strength in his arm alone was enough to slam (Y/n) down on her back on the bed. His fingertips dug uncomfortably into her cheeks and something dark crossed his eyes as he leaned over her.

His free hand pinned into the mattress just beside her shoulder and his knees pinned into her thighs with him sitting awkwardly on her lap to keep her from moving.

She didn't know what he was going to do. She didn't know how to get away from him. She didn't know when he suddenly stopped crying and switched to glaring daggers into her like she had done all of this on purpose. He was staring down at her like (Y/n) had teased and provoked him and tormented him. As if she had gone out of her way to look and act like Shannon, to dangle that fantasy in front of him only to then take it away from him before he had a proper taste of freedom.

His words seemed to contradict his actions. His words made (Y/n) fret that he was going to hurt her, knock her out, drag her from the apartment and hide her away so Evan could never find her again. It almost sounded like he had committed to the thought of never being able to call (Y/n) his. But pinning her to the bed suggested otherwise.

This suggested Eddie knew what he wanted and he was just going to take it whether anyone tried to stop him or not. It implied he would make (Y/n) his in any way he could to get her to see this through his eyes.

(Y/n) didn't want to contemplate what Eddie was going to do, whether he had a well thought out plan or if he was just playing this second by second.

She was torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to cradle him because he was clearly fractured. He was tormented by the ghost of Shannon and all he wanted was for someone to love him and make him feel the way he did when he was with her. But (Y/n) couldn't do that and she couldn't comfort Eddie when he was acting like this.

She wiggled her head down until her chin was tucked up against her neck and when she loosened her jaw, she sank her teeth down into Eddie's hand. Right into the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger. She chomped as hard as she could until she could feel the muscles tightening beneath her teeth and that horrid, squelching sound of his flesh shifting in her bite.

He didn't let go. He cried out, he growled, he tensed and shifted on top of her. But he didn't let her go. If anything, his fingers tightened against her cheeks and he slammed her head down. If they had been on the floor instead of the bed, he could of knocked her out, but all he did was make her go dizzy and cause an ache in the back of her neck.

The pain didn't seem to bother Eddie, but (Y/n) could see it in his face that it irritated him, like a distraction he couldn't afford to have. So he let her go. He reared his hand back until she released her bite and she tried to catch her breath back while he shook his hand out to get some feeling back.

But then his fingers were scrunching up in the collar of her shirt and he used it as leverage to lift her up off the bed.

He stayed kneeling on the edge of the bed, her thighs pinned between his knees. His groin and abdomen pressed against her and his arm pulled back to his chest causing (Y/n) to sit upright on the bed with her legs dangling over the side, between Eddie's legs.

She tilted her head back, gasping for breath while she sneered at him and tried to grab him by the shoulders to push him off.

"You think wearing his clothes means anything? It doesn't change who you are to me. You're my wife; I won't let him take you."

Eddie's eyes slithered up and down her frame, taking in her attire for the first time since he came into the apartment. She was wearing Evan's white lounge shirt which was now scrunched up in Eddie's fist and digging uncomfortably into the back of (Y/n)'s neck. And it was crumpled up around her thighs, exposing her underwear to Eddie's eagle eyes.

"Calling me Shannon doesn't mean she isn't dead."

She thought her words would make him cry. His eyes glossed over and for a moment, reality seemed to flicker across his pupils that constricted. But then they were black holes again, drawing her in and frightening her down to her core that shuddered beneath him.

His nails scratched her neck and caused a stinging sensation to claw along her cheek. She wasn't sure whether he tried to slap her or if he just caught her when he went to grab her differently.

But he didn't like it when she closed her eyes. She denied him the privellage of seeing her eyes, of seeing the hatred and the fear within them. Both his hands held her by her face, indenting into her cheeks that ached and burned and she could feel her inner cheeks cutting on her teeth from how harshly he held her.

But it was enough for (Y/n) to wriggle away from him. She shimmed down and pushed her weight forward, slamming her arms down into his elbows which gave his body a jolt. All of her weight pushed forward into Eddie's chest and she unbalanced him, falling into his chest as he toppled backwards onto the floor.

Her ankle rolled in the wrong direction and (Y/n) swallowed a cry as her whole leg twitched and throbbed as she clambered over Eddie to get away from him. But not before her hands scuffled along the rug and found her phone she had dropped earlier.

Her palms scraped the floor and she fell down on her knees, twice, when her left ankle gave out each time she tried to stand up.

"Shannon!"

"She's dead!" (Y/n) snapped back as she reached the stairs and took a leap of faith.

She shuffled. Her hands clung to the bannister and she let herself slide down each step, bumping from one to another and she just knew she would be littered in bruises all up and down her bum and the back of her thighs come morning. But it didn't matter, her ankle had given out and until it worked again, she had to get away from Eddie somehow. She had to get into the bathroom because it was the only place where she could lock the door and keep Eddie at bay.

Leaving the apartment wasn't a good idea when she didn't know how long Bobby would be and she didn't know any of the neighbours. None of them would wake up after midnight and give her sanctuary and going out into the street barefoot in nothing but her underwear and Evan's shirt that barely covered her thighs wouldn't do her any good either.

She could feel her phone scraping along the bannister, pinned between the wood and her palm and when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she tried to stand.

"You're not leaving me again." Eddie's voice was cold and brutal and so close that the hairs on the back of (Y/n)'s neck stood up on end.

She let out a scream when his hand latched into her hair and he pushed all of his weight onto her back until she was falling forward. Her arms slammed into the floor and her forehead bashed into the laminate, jolting her body while her knees hit the floor with a bang. But it was Eddie's weight on her back that hurt the most.

It was the feeling of his chest on her back and his face smothered into her neck. It was his hand scrunched up in her hair and his other hand on her shoulder and his leg pinned between her thighs with his hips crushing down on her lower back and bum that hurt the most. All of Eddie was crushing her against the floor and she could barely breathe at all.

It was only after seven agonising seconds that (Y/n) finally took in a strangled breath that wheezed past her lips. She could feel her chapped lips becoming wet as she gasped and spat and tried not to choke as she struggled for air and tears welled up in her eyes.

But once her senses came back to her, she realised her phone was no longer in her hand.

It had been flung across the floor a few feet in front of them.

And now it was ringing.

Eddie's chest heaved against her back and his hand moved from her hair to curve around the back of her neck instead. He stared down at her, nostrils flaring, eyes rabid and breaths as deep as hers while her ringtone flooded the apartment. And (Y/n) knew exactly who was calling.

She knew because her ringtone was always the same, except for one person. She had personalised Evan's ringtone so that whenever he called her, her phone played Crazy In Love. Bobby must have gotten hold of him, or Evan had gotten a moment to check his phone and noticed a missed call. Or maybe Bobby got hold of the station and they had finally told Evan what was going on.

"Who did you call? What did you do?!"

(Y/n) didn't answer; she couldn't answer. She was still gasping for air and her ribs felt like they were breaking beneath Eddie's weight. The floor felt horrid as it crushed her chest and pinned against her abdomen and Eddie's every curve moulded over her own and kept her melted in place against him.

She tried to move. She tried to crawl, to slither out of his arms, to scratch her nails against the floor and drag herself forward towards her phone. She needed to answer, she needed to scream, to gasp or cry or make some sort of derranged noise so Evan knew she was in trouble.

All of her strength was pushed into her right arm and she stretched as much as she could, wiggling against Eddie until her finger brushed her phone and she dragged the white button across the screen.

"Ev-" Something horrid wheezed past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand clamped over her mouth and his left arm pinned around her neck.

She couldn't breathe anymore. She couldn't move. She couldn't talk or wriggle or hit out or shift in any direction.

Her body went limp and her chest seized up while her blurry eyes rolled to the back of her head. But they didn't stay like that for long. It felt like she had barely been in a choke hold for one second before she realised she was suddenly being moved.

Her arms flopped across the floor, trying in vain to drag herself along the floor and move but it was too hard. It was too much effort to try and get away from Eddie when all of her energy was dwindling like she was an engine with a leak. And trying to move forwards only strained the arm around her neck and cut off her breathing. She couldn't last any longer without a proper breath, so she gave in.

(Y/n) let Eddie man handle her and the back of her head bashed into his shoulder, causing her body to jerk in spasms while her eyes rolled in circles, trying to gain some sense of focus again.

(Y/n) couldn't find the ability to breathe or move and she couldn't focus on what was happening. She couldn't even hear Evan's voice as he called something through the phone which sounded distant like Evan was held underwater.

Her stomach tensed and her chest seized up again when she felt Eddie's arm tighten around her neck and his right arm bound around her waist.

He had her back pinned into his chest and her body slumped between his thighs. They were both sitting up on the floor but (Y/n) felt like she was about to slide down and lay out on the floor. Her body was being held up by the arm around her throat that was close to choking her.

Both her hands moved to grip Eddie's bicep and she dug her nails into his arm, pulling as much as she could to try and get him to relent and let her go.

The feeling of Eddie's face smothering against the side of her head made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and pull into a frown.

She could feel tears dripping down her cheeks when he started to take ragged, gasping breaths against her skin. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, crushing into her back with every inhale. And she knew he was crying again, just like she was.

It was only then that (Y/n) realised she could hear Evan.

"(Y/n) please! What the Hell is going on?"

Hearing Evan calling out her name made (Y/n) cry harder. She hated when he used her name because of how she had become used to hearing him call her any other pet name that he could. He only used her name when something serious was going on and she hated it.

Her heels scraped against the floor in a vain attempt to keep herself pushed up and to try and lift her head higher to take a big, deep breath. She sniffed and gasped, inhaling a deep breath as Eddie seemed to hold her tighter and curled around her like he was trying to morph them into one person.

"Eddie, p-please," (Y/n) didn't know what she was trying to say or what she was begging for, but she knew her words fell upon deaf ears.

He started to kiss her temple while his right arm pinned into her stomach until he was crushing her and making her feel sick. And she let out a small, frail sob when Eddie started to rock them back and forth. It was almost as if he was cradling her, as if he was trying to comfort her when he was the one in need of help and comfort.

She stopped digging her nails into his arm and instead tried to shakily rub her hands up and down his arms. Maybe comforting him would make him stop. Maybe trying to feign understanding and calming herself down would in turn make Eddie calm down. Then she could slip away from him and get across into the bathroom.

But his hold was so tight that (Y/n) doubted she would get away from him or get very far before he launched on her again. Being pinned in his arms like this felt better than being crushed on the floor with him on top of her. This felt safer. Eddie couldn't hurt her or try and do anything drastic while they were like this. He may be hurting her and giving her bruises, but it was better than him pinning her to the floor or the bed and trying to rip her clothes off or scream at her for leaving him.

She heard Evan's pleas call out through the air so loud he sounded like he was on loud speaker. "Eddie what are you doing? Don't do this. Think of me, think of Chris, please. Whatever the fuck you're doing, stop!"

(Y/n) gasped, drawing in a strangled breath when Eddie's arm loosened from her stomach and he reached across for her phone. His chest pinned down into her back and he creased over her, pushing her forward so he could end the call and toss the phone into the kitchen.

"I can't- I don't know how to love anyone else. I love you. I love you."

Those three little words played on repeat until (Y/n) was sobbing and Eddie was crying them into her neck.

She felt his head tilt down so his face was smothered in her neck and he started dragging his lips across her skin. Leaving wet, open-mouthed touches in his wake that had (Y/n) shaking and her fingers leaving indents in Eddie's arm while his right arm went back to imbedding in her stomach.

He'd never said that to her before.

Eddie had never said he loved her. He never got far into the delusion of being with Shannon when he was around (Y/n). Whenever he was with her, he seemed to get angry. He showed her how wrecked he was because she had left him, he pleaded with her to come home. He told her how much he and Chris missed her and how much he wanted her and needed her. But he always seemed angry with her.

Shannon had died before Eddie could clear the air with her or tell her how much she meant to him or tell her that he wanted to make things work between them if they could. She died with so many things left unsaid and now Eddie was saying them all to (Y/n) in the vain fantasy that Shannon was really back in his life.

That fantasy seemed to be crumbling around him. Eddie could hear the timer ticking away in the back of his head. He could feel the walls closing in. He could feel Evan and Bobby getting closer to taking (Y/n) away from him for good and he could feel his world crumbling into tiny fragmented pieces.

And he was doing whatever he could to keep (Y/n) with him, to keep this thought of Shannon alive.

If Bobby or Evan didn't get here soon, (Y/n) dreaded to think what Eddie might do. She found herself sobbing as he crushed her harder in his embrace until she couldn't breathe and he spoke against her neck, his words chilling her down to her core.

"Buck can't have you. He can't take you from me."

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Part 17

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: does anyone mind the slightly longer chapters? I feel like I keep accidentally adding scenes in and I’m not sure if it’s too much? Anyway, regardless of length, I hope you enjoy! 🧡💛

word count: 8,024

-Part 16-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“Was that necessary, Mor?” 

Neatly groomed brows narrow over hard amber eyes, stood at the edge of the room, still cast in shadow before walking to be stood closer to the bed that’s been pushed so it’s beside the open window. 

“Stay out of it, Az,” Mor murmurs, arms folded over her chest, eyes cast downwards. “You should be focusing on getting better.” 

Azriel is quiet for a bit, his gaze weighing on her but she makes no move to look at him, a hint of anguish in her normally bright expression. He sighs, shifting against the pillows as he glances out the window, inclining his head a little as a light breeze washes over him, sending silky strands of hair fluttering up from his brow. 

“You know she didn’t do it to hurt you,” he says, watching as the clouds shift in composition in the sky, small dots flying in the distance as they arc and dip with the winds. Hazel eyes flick back across the room, but Mor’s head is still lowered, her expression resentful. “You know you were being cruel.” 

“And you’re in a position to criticise me?” Mor replies quietly, hard amber piercing into him. “You’re the reason this became such a mess. You should have said something. There’s no way you couldn’t have noticed.” 

“I made a mistake,” he concedes reluctantly, holding her gaze. 

“You made more than a mistake, Az. Now we’re all hurting because you—”

“Mor,” Azriel interrupts. She stiffens but doesn’t yield, that look of reproach returning to her expression. “You can’t lash out at us whenever you hurt,” he says thickly, still watching her. Silence stretches between them, centuries worth of history pulled taut in the quiet. 

“What does Rhys think?” Mor diverts, successfully switching subjects. Azriel sighs, leaning back into the pillow, “about which part?” Mor’s brows narrow a little, “all of it, I suppose.” Azriel’s jaw works, glancing briefly out the window again to peer up into the sky, the winds calling to him and his wings move subtly at his back, repositioning themselves against the large stack of cushions placed to prop him up. 

“He’s furious that it got this far,” he replies, features carefully neutral as he answers the question. Amber eyes observe, offered insight through those years of friendship that others might struggle to pick out—the guilt he feels for failing. Not just her, or Mor, but Rhys and Feyre. For inadvertently allowing a situation to unfold where his brother would be forced to remember those months…years of grief after his family was slaughtered. After his sister was murdered. The whole situation is dredging up unwelcome memories, for all of them. They can’t let another one be lost. 

“He wants to know how Eris even got to her in the first place,” Azriel admits, glancing warily at Mor to gauge her reaction. “You don’t know?” She asks, pushing past the tightness in her throat at the mere mention. But the Shadowsinger shakes his head. “There wasn’t really time to ask,” he supplies quietly. She wasn’t really even in the right mindset to be asked. 

“What about Cassian?” Mor queries, but Azriel shakes his head. 

“You know I won’t tell you.” Because to know Cassian’s thoughts on the matter would likely be to know Nesta’s, and that isn’t the kind of emotional intimacy any of them would be comfortable with. It’s strange how emotions intermingle like that, how swiftly things can complicate themselves when new figures are added to the equation. 

A beat passes, then Mor’s shifting on her feet. “You know, there was a time when we shared everything between us. Wasn’t that easier?” She asks neutrally. 

“Mor,” Azriel warns lowly, causing Mor’s upper lit to curl slightly. 

“Don’t take that tone with me, Az,” she mutters, resting her full attention on the injured male. “Don’t act like you’re completely blameless.” 

“Assigning blame won’t fix anything,” he replies shortly, hazel eyes losing a little of their softness. “I’m sure that narrative suits you well,” Mor counters sharply. “I think you’re glad that I said those things to her so that you have a chance to redeem yourself by condemning me. You’re the one who started this whole mess, so—”

“Mor.”

“Shut up, Az,” Mor hisses, warmth vanishing from her face, eyes hardening as shields rise. “Don’t you dare try and twist what happened. You made mistake after mistake because you were too busy chasing Elain, and too busy ignoring what you didn’t want to acknowledge by hiding behind your work instead. At least I had a damn reason. What was yours?” 

Azriel gives nothing away, his expression cold and blank. 

“I tried to help her, I reached out my hand and offered her a chance. And she repaid that by going to Eris,” Mor hisses, unable to help the stark pain that bleeds into her fury. “She could have come to any of us. It’s more than we ever had, and yet she ignored it. Then tries to pretend it away? I’m not immune to that. If she can’t even be bothered to care about my pain why should I give a damn about hers?” Mor breathes, eyes feeling hot as the words gush out. “It is nothing compared to what we endured.” 

————

You manage a small smile as Madja enters your room, Elain closing the door behind her as she takes a seat at your bedside. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” Madja asks as she settles in the chair provided for these visits, a kind look on her face that you know you should be grateful for, but it’s difficult to summon anything when you know she can’t do anything. All this is, is documentation. An observation to see what happens to you. Because it’s undeniable something is happening. 

You swallow thickly, but nod your head. “Good, for the most part,” you answer, truthfully. “I’m still feeling generally fatigued, but I wouldn’t say it’s particularly interfering with my day? I’ve had some pains in my stomach and back though, but I think they’re just…you know…” Madja raises her brows in question, silently asking you to continue. Heat rises beneath your skin and you avert your gaze, hands wringing together beneath the duvet. 

“Would it be more helpful if it were just the two of you?” Elain suggests carefully, and teeth push into your lower lip. Then you give a small dip of your head, too embarrassed to look her in the eye. But she doesn’t seem to mind, telling you’ll she be a few rooms over, and will return once the examination is done. Madja looks patiently at you, a kind expression on her features that soothes you slightly. She’s a healer, surely she’ll have seen and heard worse… 

You clear your throat, peering into your lap to avoid looking at her. “I think they might just be…” you trail off, glancing at her then gesturing vaguely to your stomach, hand hovering over your abdomen. There’s nothing impatient in her smile as she speaks, “your cycle?” You snap your eyes away, a flush of mortification rising to your skin, shoulders tightening as you stare into your lap but force yourself to nod. 

“It’s perfectly fine to speak about that with me,” Madja says gently, “it’s a normal occurrence with females, there’s no need to be embarrassed about your own body. There’s nothing wrong with it.” You nod again, just to try and appease her, but in truth you’re desperate to escape the subject. “I’m sorry, I just— I find it hard to believe you aren’t…uncomfortable, discussing such topics.” 

“Well, I’ve been a healer for most of my centuries in this realm,” she says calmly, and you can imagine that kind expression on her features, peaceful and infinitely patient. “I’ve worked during both wars, not to mention helping with your sister’s pregnancy. There’s very little that could ever cause me discomfort in regards to how the body works, so you don’t have to concern yourself.” 

You shift again in the bed, but manage to nod your head. Madja seems to be satisfied with the response, smile broadening, and a slight bit of tension is relieved from your shoulders, breath easing into your lungs. “So you’ve been experiencing some abdominal and back pain?” She questions, and you nod again, feeling a little useless. “Can you describe it to me?” She asks, and you swallow thickly. “I…it’s like a dull ache in my back, near the base of my spine but a bit to the right. Then it’s quite sharp in my…abdomen. It doesn’t happen often, but I thought I should mention it…” 

“I don’t think you should be experiencing any pain at all,” Madja replies. “And may I ask when you’re next due for your cycle?” You look away briefly before again meeting her gaze—nothing to be embarrassed about, she’d assured. “In about three months,” you answer quietly. 

Madja nods in approval, and you begin to relax back into the pillows. “And have you noticed any bleeding at all?” She asks gently, and you freeze in the bed. 

“No,” you answer hurriedly, without thinking, “no. Not from— No.” 

“Alright,” she smiles calmingly, “anywhere else? You have some scabs on your hands, isn’t that right?” Your throat rolls but you nod, releasing your tight grip on your nightgown, bringing yourself to raise them from beneath the duvet so she can examine them. “And these bumps,” she inquires, “can you tell me how long those have been there for?” You blink, trying to remember—they’ve been there for months it feels like, but it can’t have been that long, can it? How long has it been since you first told Azriel?

“I think…” you hesitate, unsure of yourself, “maybe a month? Two? They don’t hurt, but they do sometimes…bleed.” 

“Okay, would you mind if I had a look at them?” She requests, and you silently offer her your hands for her to take. That tingling warmth feathers beneath your skin, as if the flesh has fallen asleep, and you watch curiously as she probes along your knuckles, examining your palms, grazing your wrists. “And may I look at the area you experienced the pain in?” She asks, and you stiffen but nod. It’ll be the same thing as last time, you hope, and that wasn’t too bad since she had managed to work through the fabric of your night gown. The duvet is rolled back and you sit straighter in the cushions so she’ll have better access. 

“Can you point out where exactly you were feeling the pain?” She requests, and you gesture to a horizontal strip of skin below your middle. “It was the sharpest here,” you answer, “but I sometimes get a small ache further to the left or right.” Madja doesn’t reply, her expression showing concentration as she moves her hands across your stomach, gently pushing at the parts you’d mentioned as that warmth settles pleasantly into you. You can’t help as your attention drifts to your own hands, how flaky and lumpy they are in comparison to her tender set. It’s so dry, small scabs where blood had leaked from…you wish at least the bleeding didn’t happen. So many pairs of gloves you have to wash repeatedly to make sure there aren’t any stains. 

It’s become such a normal part of your life it had slipped your mind that pain shouldn’t be a normal part of it, nor the bleeding. 

The bleeding… 

A cold feeling washes over you, like you’ve had ice tipped down your spine as you remember the scare you’d experienced in the Autumn Court. 

If Madja notices how you’ve frozen, she doesn’t mention it, but a slow feeling of slippery dread unspools in your stomach as you recall the blood you’d noticed when visiting the washroom one morning. You’d thought it was your cycle—the slight pains had added up and the night sweats had made sense—but then nothing had happened and you’d forgotten about that blood. 

Nausea churns in your stomach, a district feeling over lightheadedness overcoming you and you force the calm breaths into your lungs…deep, and steady. You choke on saliva and your palm flies over your mouth as you twist your head to the side, coughing. 

Madja glances up at you, brows slightly pulled together from concentration. “Have some water—are you remembering to keep yourself hydrated throughout the day?” She asks, handing you the glass that rests by your bedside table. “For the most part,” you answer after taking a few sips. Madja pauses briefly, a look of consideration passing behind her eyes before speaking, “would you mind if I checked your lungs? It’s likely nothing, but might as well be sure since I’m here, don’t you agree?” 

You blink at her, looking slightly perplexed but you suppose there’s no harm in it, so you nod your confirmation, handing her back the glass before settling into the cushion. That familiar warmth tingles in your skin as she tentatively lays her fingers just below your collar bones before pressing down a little firmer and making her way from one side to the other. Her features remain set in an expression of concentration and she returns to the tops of your sternum before going a little lower. You tense, but understand she’s performing a medical examination. 

“Can you sit upright a little more? I’d like to search a little lower, just by your ribs,” she adds, seeing your startled expression. You nod, understanding, sitting more upright independent of the cushions. “Now if you can raise your arm?” She requests gently and again you follow, raising your left arm so she has access to the side of your ribs. The tingling sensation returns and you think you can feel as it searches through your body, though it doesn’t feel invasive like you had expected. 

Madja’s fingers pause, before she’s pressing noticeably firmer and you have to steady yourself so she does upset your balance. The sensation becomes more acute, able to feel as the tingling feeling concentrates near the middle left of your lower ribcage. When she retracts her hands she looks a little confused. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask nervously, uneasy by her expression. 

“There’s what feels like a small lump connected to the tissue of your left lung,” Madja explains calmly, and you nod your head. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to try and purge it. I haven’t seen it in any other patients, and there’s no reason for it to be there—it isn’t a natural part of your body. Would that be okay?” 

You nod your head—if she’s found something wrong with you, that sounds promising…? And if she thinks she can…purge it, that seems even better. 

“Alright, if you lean back into the bed to keep your upper body relaxed that would be perfect,” she guides and you settle down. “Okay, I’m going to apply my magic to the growth. You might feel a sudden heat or a ticklish sensation but if you can avoid coughing that would be helpful,” she explains, and tension rises in your chest as she again puts her hands against the side of your ribcage.  

Sure enough, a sharp heat fills a spot on your lung, and you press your lips together to prevent from coughing or inhaling suddenly despite the abrupt tickle that’s manifested in your throat, an intense itchiness in your lungs…an itchiness growing in the tips of your fingers…growing hotter…and hotter…beginning to burn, and… 

Madja pulls away, a gentle smile on her face, “all done. You did well not to start coughing in the middle there, it helped make the process much easier for me.” 

“So, it’s gone?” You ask perplexedly, hand gingerly rising to press into your ribs, testing as you inhale. Sure enough, the tickling feeling has gone, and so has the tightness in your throat, suddenly feeling much clearer. Like when you’d had a cold as a human, feeling the distinct relief once you were able to breathe freely again, having to become reliant on inhaling via your mouth rather than nose. One never appreciates how seamlessly their body works until it’s compromised.

Madja smiles, “it’s gone.” 

A hesitant smile makes its way across your mouth, peering down to where you hand is settled. 

Maybe it isn’t as bad as you’d been telling yourself. 

————

Golden eyes gleam from within the home, the scent of rosemary so familiar emotion swells in your chest. 

“Hey, Bas.” 

He pauses briefly, and you hesitate, waiting to see what he’ll do. Then he’s shifting in the doorway, opening it wider cautiously as he take you in, taking up most of the entryway. “You’re back…” he greets, but the note of caution in his voice has you hesitating again. But you push a small smile to your mouth, remembering yourself. “I’m back,” you agree, nodding your head slightly, “how… How have you been? Everything okay?” 

Bas is silent, simply watching you with an indistinguishable look and you resist the urge to move beneath his attention, instead waiting it out, wondering what he’s thinking. 

“Where were you?” He asks, catching you a little off-guard with the question. You hadn’t really considered he might question where you went. “I was… I visited another Court. Temporarily. Just to see more of the world, I guess…” You peer up at him—he isn’t moving from the doorway, remaining blocking it instead of inviting you in like you’d anticipated. Things feel strange, to how you remember them. “Is everything…okay?” You hedge. 

“Is everything okay?” He repeats softly, as if to himself. His golden eyes regain awareness, pupils tightening as they look at you. “Why don’t you tell me?” 

It’s enough to have you faltering, temporary confidence stumbling as you peer up at him questioningly. “I…what do you mean?” You ask, unsure what he’s asking after. 

“I mean, why did you disappear like that, huh? You just— went. Without telling me where, without telling anyone where, apparently. Do you know how dangerous Prythian can be? Especially for someone like you, and you just decided to leave? What were you thinking?” Bas asks, his patience steadily slipping as he speaks, thoughts pouring from his lips. “Someone like me?” You repeat faintly, pinning him with a look, “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re smart. Not strong,” he answers succinctly, but bluntly, “you should know what sort of creatures are out there.” 

“That didn’t seem to bother you the night I left,” you counter, a note of disbelief in your voice. 

“Because you’re smart,” he repeats as if it’s obvious. “You’re smart, so I assumed you’d make a smart choice. Not just go out into Prythian on a whim. You don’t even know how to fight. Do you understand what could have happened to you?” 

“Bas, I’m fine,” you reassure, trying to understand his temper is coming from a place of concern. “I…I went to meet someone. I didn’t just go out into the wilderness, you don’t need to worry,” you explain, knowing it’s best to keep the details vague. 

“You know your family came to visit, right?” He asks, again catching you off guard as you stare at him. “No,” you answer, quietly, “I didn’t. Who—… What happened…?” Bas shifts in the doorway, settling to lean against the threshold of the entrance, and a small grain of relief passes through you at the distinctly familiar gesture. “Azriel visited first, and I told him he wouldn’t get anything out of me because I had decided to trust that you knew what you were doing. And you know what he told me?” Bas asks harshly, shaking his head and not waiting for reply. “He told me I was interfering with Court affairs, that withholding information might result in the High Lord personally questioning me. And I still didn’t tell him anything.” 

“I…I’m sorry, Bas,” you manage, guilt at last beginning to rise in your chest, head lowering slightly. “I’m…thank you. For trusting me.” 

“I’m not done,” Bas says quietly, but firmly, causing you to glance up at him questioningly. “He came back, that time with Mor.” There’s no way for you to conceal the pain and conflict that passes through your expression. Even if you could, even if you knew how to hide your emotions like that, you have the distinct impression he knows you well enough he’d be able to see through it, and the thought is surprisingly uncomfortable for you. Knowing someone so well they could see through your lies…that kind of vulnerability… 

“She was the one who convinced me to admit I had no idea where you’d gone. She was clearly worried, and I had to look at her and tell her how you hadn’t trusted me enough to say where you’d be going, but that I had decided to trust you enough that I’d been fine not knowing.” His voice has lowered, becoming rougher, and your shoulder slope with shame. “Can you understand that? To realise you’ve been deceived by someone you cared for like that? To admit that to people who had been smart enough to know better?” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, raising your eyes to meet his, gloved hands wringing together. “I didn’t mean for it to seem like I didn’t trust you. I do.” 

“Then where were you?” 

You raise your head to look at him, then. Heart sinking because—you can’t tell him. You’re in enough trouble as it is, with Rhys, with Mor, with Azriel. Probably with your sisters too, they just haven’t shown it yet. You can’t cause more problems. More problems for them is more consequences for you, and you have a long list of things to make up for. Dauntingly long. Almost unbearably… “Bas…I…” 

“Can’t tell me?” He finishes, his tone telling you it’s exactly what he anticipated. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you say softly, holding his gaze imploringly. “You know I trust you. That I’ve told you things I could never—… That I could never tell anyone else…” 

“Then why can’t you tell me, huh?” He asks, a touch more gentle, sounding as helpless as you feel. 

“Just…I need you to…”

“Trust you?” He scoffs, shoulders jerking in an unnaturally sharp movement. 

“You’d made it sound like they didn’t care about you,” he says quietly, and you look at him wearily. “I thought you were on your own, you know.” Like me, is what he leaves out, but you can hear it clear enough. “I have my ma, and you have your sister, but beyond that I thought you had no one but me.” And I had no one but you—again, you can hear those words he’s not saying. “That we were going to be there for each other because we understood what it was like. But they care for you.” A strange sense of shame settles heavily on your shoulders, and your head lowers, but you don’t look away. 

“It was obvious,” he murmurs, his brows curving almost imperceptibly, a kernel of pain passing behind sharp golden eyes. He sighs, shaking his head, pushing up from the doorframe and you watch silently as he begins to draw the conversation to a close. “I won’t begrudge you of that. I’m glad you have people. Family. But I…” You lied. 

“I don’t—” You say abruptly, rushing into speech, hurting without thought, just needing to explain yourself, even if it opens up something you aren’t ready for. “They don’t,” you breathe. “I—… It might look like they do, you might know they do. Maybe they really, actually do.” You stare up at him, feeling that emptiness lethargically blink itself awake, mouth yawning open in preparation to begin swallowing you down again. Pulling you into that inescapable state of overwhelming darkness. “But I can’t believe it,” you whisper, feeling as your eyes fill with wetness, and something hot spills down your cheek, another following when you blink to clear it away. “I can’t…” you breathe, trailing off. “It doesn’t matter what happens, Bas. I just—…I can’t believe it.” 

“And I should believe you?” He asks quietly. 

You stare at him helplessly. There’s nothing else you can say. You’ve tried to convince him, you’ve been as honest as you can physically tolerate, and it…it just isn’t enough. You aren’t enough. 

Your heart doesn’t plummet like you’ve learned to anticipate. Instead a vague feeling of disappointment calmly soothes your skin, glum pessimism setting in as the high emotions fade into watery greys. Desaturated, and bearable. 

“I don’t know what else to say,” you tell him quietly. 

“Just tell me the truth,” Bas asks, golden eyes showing his hurt. Another case of betrayal you’ve brought upon yourself. 

Would it be unfair to ask his forgiveness? 

“I’m sorry,” you give as your answer. There’s nothing else you can say. 

Bas’ eyes dull slightly, and you understand how you’ve let him down. 

His jaw works, looking away briefly before returning his attention to you. “I’ll see you later.” 

————

The wind breezes through you as you walk along the cobbles, the sun long since dipped down beneath the horizon, leaving a chill in the air that manages to sink through the silky orange material of your scarf. 

You can’t bring yourself to try and tackle the emotional conflict with Bas yet. You’re drained, and tired from the past months—maybe longer—and you don’t want to put yourself through more self-inflicted sadness. If you really need to release some bottled up emotion, you know you’ll have no choice in escaping it. If you have the option to keep yourself from hurt, you’ll take it. At least for the moment. 

Bas had said he’d see you later—you have to trust him. As a friend, as someone who’s been there for you, and you for him—you have to believe you’ll be able to fix this. There’s good in the world, Feyre had told you, you just have to trust that you’ll find it. Even if it’s seemingly alluded you until now, in the moments you’ve needed it most. 

A silhouette seems familiar in your peripherals, a distinctly fae sense recognising the shape, or…something, of the figure, and you glance over. 

Cassian raises his hand in greeting, his expression clear and untroubled as he walks over to where you’ve paused, wings kept neatly tucked at his back to keep them from bumping into things. “You know, I’ve been told you’re supposed to be staying in bed,” he greets in his deep voice, tone similar to one someone would use when catching another doing something they aren’t supposed to, but considering joining in anyway. It’s very him, in a way. 

“I…” you begin, about to mention Bas, but then decide otherwise. “I’m feeling okay today. I thought a walk might be nice. Fresh air’s supposed to be good for you, right?” You ask lightly, volume low. Cassian’s quiet for a beat, unnervingly sharp hazel eyes weighing into you calmly. Then he sighs, shrugging his shoulders a little before shifting on his feet, making to turn around, to lead you somewhere. “I suppose I can’t fault you for keeping things to yourself.”

You watch as he turns, obviously expecting you to go with him, but the moment caught you off guard. “…keeping things to myself…?” You hedge, managing to get your feet moving to walk a little behind him, not particularly wanting to go with him but knowing it would be unreasonable to turn away. Especially after all the trouble you’ve caused—like having such poor control of your—

You halt abruptly, staring up to the cliff-face that contains the House of Wind. Sure enough, even from so far below, you can spot the large break in the rock-face, able to pick out what had been your bedroom, and the sides of the rooms either side of it. You feel as the blood drains from your face, shock icing your body as you’re unable to look away—you caused that. “Something wrong?” Cassian asks, calling back to you a few steps away. 

Words have left you, unable to figure out what to say, mind struggling to wrap around all of it. Another thing to make up for, and that one’s pretty big, too…your shoulders slope as you stare at the hole blown out of the rock. The damage you’ve probably caused the interior too… How much will it take to repair that? Isn’t the building itself old? Even to fae standards? 

How can you ever make up for something like that? 

Cassian walks back over to you when you don’t reply, pausing at your side, hands on his hips as he follows the direction of your gaze. “Pretty impressive,” he says conversationally, “you’ve got a way to go before you can manage an entire building, though.” Then he pats you lightly on the shoulder, wing curving round your body to get your legs moving as you’re pulled away, view with the House broken. 

“I—…” you choke out, “did…did I do that?” You manage hoarsely, looking up at him as your feet start moving one in front of the other, subconsciously wary of bumping into his wing. “Sure did. Blew right through that noise cancelling ward Feyre put up,” Cassian answers, keeping his attention ahead as he leads you through the city streets, people automatically making way for the familiar face. “I told her she’d been slacking off in practising her magic,” he murmurs under his breath, but you aren’t paying much attention, too overwhelmed with debt to really engage. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, feet hesitating as they move over the cobbles before stopping firmly, shoulders bunched as you glance up at him. “I’m so— I didn’t mean to make such a mess— I just— I just didn’t— I didn’t know what to do. And I thought he was going to—”

“It’s okay,” Cassian says firmly, standing in front of you so there are less places to look away to. “It’s Rhys’ anyway. You don’t need to apologise to me.” 

“But…it was given to you,” you hedge, staring up at him—and if it’s still Rhys’, that’s so much worse. So, so much damage. 

“Would you feel better if someone was angry with you?” He asks seriously after a moment of pause. You freeze, startled by the question. “…what?” 

“Would it make it easier?” He repeats, watching you solemnly, “if we acted how you’re waiting for us to?” 

You stare at him, struggling to pull together a reply, startled from the strange clarity of his questions. Seconds pass and all you can do is look at him, too afraid to answer—not of him, but…something. 

Cassian breaks the connection, glancing away, half turning his body to face the direction you’d been walking. “Maybe that question was too much,” he says, almost to himself. He sighs, eyes closing briefly, before he’s glancing at you, wing opening as if to guide you along again. “Come on,” he says, voice having lost that solemnity, back to the familiar timbre, “we’ll be late.” 

“Late?” You manage as you somehow get your body to fall into step beside him. “What…where are we going?” 

He looks at you strangely, as if the answer’s obvious. “Dinner, of course,” he replies, returning his attention to the streets ahead, sure enough taking the path that will lead directly back to the River House. “They’ll start without us if we aren’t there on time.” 

“Dinner?” You ask, feeling lightheaded. Too many new components being dropped on you for you to entirely keep yourself together. You swallow thickly, fumbling for excuses because you can’t do a dinner as you are—not after yesterday. “I’m not feeling too great, actually,” you say hoarsely, “besides, if I eat this late I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it…” you trail off, realising he probably doesn’t want to hear about you throwing up meals every now and again. 

“Madja’s told us you need to keep your strength up,” Cassian replies, and you’re unsure if he’s intentionally chosen a counter-argument you’d have trouble escaping or whether it was  inadvertent. “Eat what you can—it’s important during recovery, even if it might feel insignificant, or pointless.” You glance at him again, that strange feeling creeping into your chest at his wording—is it some kind of intuition that’s leading him to say these things? 

“…Will everyone be there?” You ask quietly, trying to calm yourself as the River House comes into view, not far away now. “Az will probably want to eat in his room,” Cassian answers neutrally after a temporary pause, “but everyone else will. You’ll be sitting besides Elain.” There was no reason to add that on. 

You can’t manage it, but you can’t figure a way to escape. There’s no out you can find—saying you aren’t hungry, or you’re tired won’t get you out of it, he’s already said to just eat what you can meaning you have to have at least a bite or two. But the idea of sitting with all of them, when everything is still so unclear…You can’t. 

The River House looms before you, and you can swear you feel a cold sweat appear on your back, hands turning unnaturally clammy, so accustomed to the skin being dry and flaky that to feel the dampness on your palms has slippery discomfort roiling in your stomach. 

Cassian walks up the steps, hand settling on the door, and you watch in motion slower than usual as he begins to turn the handle.  

A slight breeze blows, pulling strands of your hair forward, as if trying to push you into the House, and Cassian pauses, door opened only a few inches. Beats pass, but you keep utterly still, both wanting the moment to end but also desiring nothing more than to run from the oncoming meal. 

Strangely observant hazel eyes flick over a broad shoulder, meeting your own set and you tense, hairs rising at the nape of your neck, getting that same feeling you’d had when speaking with Rhys, that he can somehow see through you too clearly, like you’re too easy to read. Fearing what he’ll be able to find before you���ve had the chance to discover it. Watching you fumble in the dark for something that was so easy to locate. Struggling with a problem embarrassingly simple to decipher. 

“You don’t need to be scared,” he says, holding your gaze. Are you really that easy to see through? But then he continues, and the surrounding world warps a little. 

“You have a right to be at that table as much as any of us,” he says, those keen hazel eyes remaining steady. “Keep that in mind, when you go in.” 

Then the door’s opening wider, and the smell of a hot meal wafts out into the night. You trail behind him, latch clicking at your back, following as he makes his way to the dining room. He had believed the words he’d told you, that you were deserving of a seat at their table. You can’t really bring yourself to believe it, but his sincerity has shaken your ground a little. 

His expression shifts when he rounds a corner, brows rising as his lips part in a broad smile, voices rising in greeting and you can see why Feyre treasures his company. He’s surprisingly gentle, oddly perceptive. 

They probably all already knew that, though. It’s your fault for casting roles on them before really even getting to know them, assigning characters after only a handful of proper conversations. If only you’d made the effort to step out of your own little circle, maybe the circumference wouldn’t be as strangling as it’s become. 

If you’d stepped out sooner, could you have been first choice? 

But, glancing again at Cassian, his profile captured in a look between irritation and affection, turning the corner into the dining room and seeing the scrunch of Feyre’s brow as she replies to whatever he’d said…no. It wouldn’t have mattered. 

But it’s not the end of the world that you weren’t made that way. 

————

It’s good to see her smiling again, he thinks. 

With the past months having been so draining, the symptoms of her restlessness only exacerbated in the last few days given the turmoil they’ve all been thrown into, it’s good to see the light in her eyes gleaming again. More than just good, but there isn’t quite a word right enough to express the soul-deep relief he feels at seeing her smile. A strange conviction that everything will be okay now that she’s on the way better. 

Her ears twitch once before she’s shooting him a half-glare, having felt his gaze roaming over her. “Family dinner, Rhys,” she snaps under her breath, but he can see the heat in her eyes, the silent agreement that’s exchanged in the brief moments their gaze locks, and Rhys’ mouth curves suggestively, his brows rising in feigned ignorance. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he murmurs, looking down at his mate with an intensity he knows she adores. And yet she lightly smacks his thigh anyway. 

“I’m serious,” Feyre warns, that heat dissipating as Cassian picks a seat at the table, dragging the feet across the floorboards with a grating noise that’s thankfully drowned out by chatter while a smaller figure quietly follows after him, taking one of the two remaining open seats. Unlike Cassian, she lifts her chosen seat from the floor, trying to keep as silent as possible and blend into the background as she sits beside Elain. “Don’t scare her off,” Feyre murmurs under her breath. Rhys hums compliantly, eyes twinkling as he spends a few extra moments looking at his mate. Moments he thinks he might at long last be beginning to lean into.

“Where’s Mor?” Cassian interrupts, and Rhys reluctantly shifts his attention to his brother, who has taken the seat opposite Feyre. He sometimes wonders if Cassian choses moves like this intentionally, whether they’re conscious decisions or whether these actions result from a wish to have his family united. Cassian isn’t like himself or Az, wasn’t taught to conceal his emotions as they were—well, in his own case it was taught. For Az it was a matter of survival. 

“Taking supper up to Az,” Nesta’s voice cuts through the previously enjoyable atmosphere, the noise similar to recognising the hiss of steel being drawn within a temple. A few centuries ago, his ears might have twitched at the distinctly unpleasant intrusion, but Cassian’s eyes have already left his own to seek out the icy silver of his mate’s, softened at their edges. 

“More than just supper,” Amren comments, one space over to Rhys’ right, sat at a corner seat. “She took an entire bottle of wine with her.” Laughter rises, and Rhys allows his attention to briefly sweep over across the table where the two sisters are involved in conversation, as if there’s no one else to speak with. He supposes one of them might very well believe that, and with a fraction of a thought swiftly removes the precautionary enchantment of the silverware so they won’t vanish if she reaches for them. 

At least she’s there, though he’s fairly confident Cassian has something to do with it. Rhys can picture how the light in Feyre’s eyes might flicker learning she had found a way to shut herself away in a house where avoiding others was almost impossible without intent. No amount of luck or coincidence would keep her entirely hidden. Especially over meals. 

Violet eyes return to his left, feeling the familiar ease that settles through him at the reminder of Feyre’s presence. A deeply-treasured reprieve from the strain and stress that’s been thriving amongst them as of late. 

————

“How was the check-up with Madja, by the way?” Elain asks, using one of the large wooden spoons to shift a few roast potatoes onto her plate. 

You nod slightly, lips pressing together in a small smile that you hope is reassuring. “Good, for the most part,” you reply. “I think she still wants to observe what happens for now, but she did…do something, which might have helped?” It reminds you of the lightness in your lungs, the strange openness of your throat and you instinctively take in a deeper breath, basking in that odd clearness. Elain hums in question, silently offering you the spoon for potatoes, but you shake your head politely. “I’m not sure…I don’t think dinner is the best place to discuss those check-ups,” you say quietly, a half-smile on your mouth. Elain’s lips curve, eyes gleaming as she nods in agreement, “you’re probably right.” Then she glances across the table before returning her gaze to yours, a new, preempted question already rising to her mouth. “What are you going to eat?” 

The smile on your lips becomes strained, gloved hands shifting in your lap as you keep the orange, silk scarf pulled over your arms to conceal the wretched skin. You wish you’d at least had the chance to change before coming here—your mind will mostly be preoccupied with making sure none of them are forced to see the state beneath the silk. “If I’m honest, I’m not really that hungry…” you hedge, but Elain gives you a look that tells you she won’t stand for it. Although it comes from a place of care and love, you can’t help feeling a little suffocated. 

“Just have a couple of bites, okay?” Elain reasons gently, “Madja’s told us it’s good for you to eat, it’ll help you recover.” 

“Apparently Madja’s been saying that a lot,” you mutter under your breath. 

“Madja’s a highly respected healer,” Amren cuts in from across the table, her eyes sharp as they pierce into you. “If she’s said you should eat, you should eat.” 

You aren’t sure if you imagine the way the noise level seems to drop at that, but the familiarly dull pain of humiliation flickers across your chest, ashamed to have sounded so ungrateful. Your head lowers a little, unable to think of a reply as your hands wring together beneath the table, tucked away in your lap. 

“Unless you really feel sick,” Elain interjects a little defensively, her hand subconsciously placing itself on your upper arm in what you’re certain she intends to be a comforting gesture—in truth it causes your flesh to ache, but you keep your mouth shut. “I’m sure I can manage a bite or two,” you get out with a small smile and you hate that you know it won’t reach your eyes, so keep your head slightly ducked as you put a few potatoes on your plate. You can come down later, once everyone’s gone to bed if you’re still hungry. 

A beat passes, and Elain shifts at your side, a fresh smile on her face, trying to brighten your mood—you dip a little lower at that, that she feels responsible, but if you don’t pull yourself together she’ll keep doing it. “How did you and Cassian bump into one another?” She asks, reaching for something else on the table that you don’t look at. Cassian doesn’t make to answer, so you have to, feeling the distinct weight of the table’s attention. “Just coincidence, I suppose,” you reply, managing a faint smile, keeping your eyes on your plate as you slice one of the roast potatoes in two, steam wafting up from the hot centre. 

“Went out for a walk?” Elain asks. There’s an almost unnoticeable tone of relief in the question—you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t as close to her as you are. Is that how easily she can pick out your own thoughts? “Fresh air’s probably good for you, right?” She says smiling, causing your own lips to curve at their edges fondly. “I think so,” you murmur in reply. 

“Have you had a chance to read any more books recently? I haven’t seen any in your room…I could get some if you want?” Feyre speaks from across the table, and you bite down on the way you want to shrink into yourself as the conversation is drawn over to you. “I haven’t, and it’s fine, thank you. Have you been painting recently?” You ask, swiftly shutting it down and shifting the conversation back to her, hoping you’ll be left out of it now. 

Rhys’s attention flits over her a split second before something passes behind Feyre’s eyes, but she swallows and nods. “There hasn’t been as much time as I’d like, but I’m finding moments,” she answers, but goes no further. You’re glad she’s still getting time to herself in spite of being High Lady and more importantly, a mother. You can’t imagine how difficult it must be if it’s taking up that much of her time…and you probably hadn’t helped…she’s been visiting each day… You should have succeeded. 

The passiveness of the thought catches you a little off guard. Since when had thoughts like that become so habitual? So flippant? You spear a piece of potato with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. It was just a fleeting thought, it’s fine. Weird things happen in the mind anyway, as long as you don’t mean it, you’re okay. 

“Would you…” Feyre’s asking, “be interested in joining me? We could have an easel set up in your room?” 

A part of the potato goes down the wrong way as you hear the question, hand grabbing the napkin as you cover your mouth, coughing. You clear your throat when you’re done, making sure to wipe your lips subtly as you pull the napkin away, sipping on the glass of water to help clear your throat. Once you’ve recovered, you remember her question. 

It would be nice. Really nice, actually, but… “it’s fine, please don’t worry. Painting’s your thing, and I think…personal, to you. Besides, I have my books,” you excuse, heart sinking a little, but it’s for the better. She’s already short on time anyway, she needs to keep that for herself, even if you can’t help but want it. 

The same look passes behind her eyes, and you now wonder if you can’t figure it out because…because you might no longer know her well enough. 

“It’s probably for the better,” Rhys announces, bringing the moment to a swift end, “Feyre’s nude models would probably upset your delicate sensibilities, anyway.” 

Your eyes widen and you nearly choke on air as wild, ferocious heat swarms your features, staring ahead, bewildered. 

Rhys grins as a fuming Feyre smacks him on the shoulder, indignant rage lighting her eyes. “Lies! All lies,” she snaps, before sparing you a somewhat apologetic glance. “He’s joking, obviously,” she reassures, shooting a glare Rhys’ way at that last part. “His humour’s apparently a few centuries out of date.”

“Speaking of things on the old side,” a golden voice calls from the hallway, parading into the dining room in heels tall and thin enough to potentially run someone through. “Rhys, is there another case of this stuff? Az wants some more.” 

The High Lord rolls his eyes, amusement clear, Feyre settling at his side, feigned anger dissipating as if it were never there, her eyes twinkling again. 

“We all know you finished off the bottle before you even reached Az’s room,” Amren snipes, thickly-jewelled fingers sparkling as she nurses her own glass, laughter rising from the table. 

“Oh, like you’re any better Amren. You could polish off bottles of blood in the time it took me to eat an appetiser,” Mor replies, heels clicking across the floor as she sweeps through the room in a flurry of vibrant red and stunning gold, taking her seat opposite Elain—between Amren and Rhys. 

One seat and across from your own position. 

The meal fully commencing now all able players are assembled at the table. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[shrenvents]

Guard Dog

Warnings: Part one of two (is smut), stalkerish lol, fluff, mentions of death, mutual pining

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x you

Summary: Set after joining Alexandria, Daryl's overtly having issues settling in, and even more problems leaving you alone.

Word count: 1.8k

...

You and Daryl have known each other for years. Through thick and thin, your found-family has each other's backs. But your group has been wearing thin. From Beth to Tyreese, now in Alexandria, a strange and new environment— it's safe to say, Daryl’s been on edge. He was losing his nerve, and that somehow entailed keeping you close, very close.

Every and any second you're alone, he invades both your physical space, and it's becoming difficult to keep your feelings at bay, because you’ve been in love with him since your time at the prison. Even then, when shit hit the fan, he raced to get you out. Though you feared your affections for him made such a delusion — one that posed he would think to save you first— his recent clingy behaviour has made you believe in said delusion.

Today, he's back at it. You were alone gathering food for dinner for less than 10 minutes before he marched into the garage. Bearing in mind that he has no reason to be here, and spent most of his time hidden from the locals, his appearance would be considered unusual.

You let Daryl silently stand there, patrolling the entrance for a few seconds, till your heart gives out.

“Is something the matter?” You utter, shifting your eyes to his dark ones, and they snap to you, slightly taken aback. “Nothin,” is all he grumbles before looking outwards to your surroundings, observing and scanning like the hunter he is.

“Daryl, we’ve been here for weeks," huffing, "we’re alive, and well,” you state, swallowing quietly. “You can relax you know.” You turn to lift a basket of supplies. When heading for the exit, Daryl swiftly steps in front of you.

“I ain’t doin' nothin' but standing,” he rumbles defensively.

“Standing in front of me, might I add,” you retort, smiling, trying to ease the strange tension, but his face remains stoic. Daryl stares directly into you, and a shiver rolls down your spine. His intense gaze doesn’t last long, as he chooses to walk off without a goodbye. Your shoulders instantly deflate, and you exhale, closing your eyes.

“Now what was that?” Sasha’s voice makes you flinch, popping your eyes open to peer at her. “You tell me,” you sigh and she laughs.

“I’ll be damned if I ever try to read that caveman's mind,” she grins, “You're better off leaving that question for Carol.” Her smirk tells a different story, one that says she knows something more, and you can’t help the second shiver that racks through your body.

...

Desperate to figure out Dixon, you go to Carol’s, asking for her assistance with dinner as a cover.

As you both cook, it takes little time for her to notice your incessant gawking. She pronounces your name, and your eyes snap back to the sizzling food. “Cmon, you can talk to me,” she assures.

When you decidedly stay hushed, she releases a sigh that eases into a snicker. “You should speak soon before Daryl finds us, or you, rather,” she mentions, attempting to contain her humour. You spin to face her. “What do you mean by that?” You question far too quickly, that the words practically jumble together. “Exactly what it seems,” she smiles pleasantly, ignoring your eager tone. “You’ve got yourself a lifelong, loyal guard dog.”

“Why? I mean, Daryl’s protective of everybody? But why does he only follow me?” You ramble, “Doesn’t he trust me to not end up dead, in a friendly, gated community?” You pout and Carol laughs again.

“That isn’t quite why,” she dwindles.

“Please just spell it out for me, I can't take it anymore.” Now square to her, you drop the stirring utensil, and tug your apron over your head. She watches you move, absorbed in her thoughts, as you jump to sit on the edge of the kitchen island. “He’s making you uncomfortable?” She asks warily.

“Yes,” you pause, “and no.” Your head lowers in embarrassment.

After a moment, you look at Carol, while she refocuses on adding more ingredients, to the dish you abandoned. “Why does he do it?”

Her moving actions falter, and she pivots to face you. “It isn’t for me to say, but being around you, knowing you’re safe, clearly calms him." Though you don’t truly get it, you nod slowly so Carol goes back to finishing the meal.

Just as she puts meat in the oven, Daryl waltzes through the door, without so much as knocking or giving some sort of warning. You yelp when you spot him. When you lock eyes, you refuse to hold it, so you turn your head over your shoulder quickly, with a grimace, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.

“What? Somethin' happen?” His hoarse voice sounds almost panicked. As you swivel your neck to soothe Daryl’s unnecessary worry with a "No," he suddenly grips your wrist, far too roughly. You squeak as he grabs your full attention.

You assess how he stands motionless in front of your knees, eyes widened, regarding his hand as it holds your wrist. He looks kind of appalled, as if he couldn’t believe he touched you. He then briskly lets go of your arm, like it burned him, retracing into himself.

You gulp and your bottom lip trembles. 'Was he disgusted? Did he see you as a child? What had you done to warrant this behaviour?' You think anxiously.

You look between Carol and Daryl now, as they share a lengthy stare. You swear under your breath, then push Daryl's chest with your fists, shocking both of them.

“I’m leaving, do not, follow me.” You order, with a vexed, yet hurt look. His mouth gaps with a soundless word, and you leave.

...

Sitting alone in your home, your empty stomach growls, and you start to seriously regret what you did earlier, which left you too ashamed to stay for dinner.

As your thoughts run wild, a quiet knock at the door diminishes them. You stay still, almost wondering if the noise is no more than a tree branch, moved by wind, but he bellows your name.

"Daryl?" You respond, and his voice simply calls your name again, almost like a plea. You turn the lock and knob, opening to find Daryl, fidgeting on his feet uncomfortably at your doorstep. "Um, come in?" You alllow meekly, and he enters, faintly brushing your side.

Picking up his musky, pine scent, you bite your lip examining him, slowly leaning back on the closing door. He looks around agitatedly, seeming completely out of place, and somewhat flustered.

Growing stiff, you can't bear the awkward silence for much longer.

"I'm sorry," you mumble an apology for something, you're not sure what, and clearly, neither is he. He whirls towards you, stepping into your space. "For what?"

"I was rude earlier and-"

"Not rude, just, confusing." He interjects, brows furrowing in tune with his sentence. You scowl, "Well, if I'm being honest, I wouldn't say I'm the 'confusing' one here." Your remark reminds you of your previous feelings, and they bubble to the surface.

When he says nothing, you continue. "I'm safe here Daryl, and pretty happy, all things considered," you breathe out in exasperation. "Is there some danger that I should know of? Is someone here out to get me?"

"No-"

"So why do you keep chasing me around?" You just about shout, interrupting him. Daryl flinches and looks as though he wants to be anywhere but here, with you. He fixates on the door behind you. "I ain't doin' nothin-"

"Daryl! Please just," you cut yourself short as your voice escalates. "Please be honest with me, after everything we've been through, you owe me that," you beg.

His tense frame withers in defeat. "I just can't leave your side," he grumbles, his words barely understandable. "Why?"

"Don't wanna lose ya," Daryl's voice trails off as his head wheels to the side. "You won't, and I can take care of myself, just like the others, who you don't follow around." You fail to hide your ignominy, visibly disappointed that he believes you need special attention, over the rest of the group. "Can't," he mumbles.

"'Can't' what?" You inquire, now stepping into his space, voice rising.

"I can't, 'cause I don' wanna lose you," he exclaims again in a burst. Your face twists further in ignorance. "Christ woman," he runs his hand down his tormented expression. "Daryl, please stop dancing around what you mean." You cry out, "'Lose me?' Tell me what you mea-"

Abruptly, he grips your shoulders. "I want ya." He states, baring his teeth as if it were a threat. "I want you, I want you to live."

"You 'want' me... To live...?" You ask slowly and his eyes roll back in frustration. "No, not just to live-"

"Because I love you," you blurt and immediately try to pry your shoulders from his clutch. He stills with you firmly in his grasp, so close that his nose nearly grazes yours. His hold increases its strength, and he shakes his head to himself, seemingly battling his own thoughts. "Daryl?" You whisper.

"How can you?" He utters so quietly it's barely audible, so quiet you don't think he expected to say it out loud.

While his eyes squeeze shut, you snake your arms around his waist, and his entire build clamps up. Now afraid of a possible rejection, you loosen your embrace. But his hands move from your shoulders to your upper back, arms drawing you to him, fully caging you in. You take in his broad chest as it presses against your less impressive one. Your fingers seize his leather vest, aching to know how it feels under your palms.

His heavy breathing fans your nape, and you swear he sniffs your hair, as his nose tickles the skin behind your ear. His fingertips tease the ends of your hair, and you take this as an opportunity to breathe him in. Just as you do, he pulls away, moving you to an arm's length. You blush.

"Sorry," he mutters and your brows crease. "I smell bad, I know," he murmurs and goes fairly red himself. "I don't mind," you say sweetly with a smile, ignoring the urge to tell him you like it. Finally getting a chance to gaze into his eyes properly. You virtually melt when his pupils appear glassy. You've only seen him cry once, after losing Beth. 'So would he really be brought to tears over a confession? From you no less?'

"Daryl?" He peeks up from behind his fringe. "Do you 'want' me, or like me, like I like you?" You ask, trying to minimize the pressure he may feel to admit any feelings, but you so desperately want to know —how desperately you want him to hold you again.

"Both," he rasps.

You nod and smile sheepishly, "I can work with that."

When a comfortable silence envelops the room, your stomach growls loudly. A modest smile takes shape on Daryl's face. "I put some food aside for you, back at Carol's." He emits, gesturing to the door behind you, wordlessly asking you to go over there, with him. You nod a yes and your heart pounds, swooning at his thoughtfulness. "Thank you."

You reach your hand out, and he very hesitantly, takes it in his, after wiping it twice on his thigh. You beam, heading out the door.

Part two

[pinkflower2003]

Summertime on the farm

Daniel Ricciardo x Clarkson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Clarkson & her father, Jeremy, celebrate the release of the new series of their Amazon series, Clarkson’s Farm. Going to the Grand Prix, Y/N meets an unexpected fan in Daniel Ricciardo, who had been on her father’s show previously.

a/n - this is my first time doing a social media one so bare with me whilst i get use to this! this came into my head whilst watching danny’s top gear interview! there is some spelling and word mistakes but this is not proofread!

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@Y/NClarkson Posted!

liked by amazonprime, jeremyclarkson1 & 225,568 others.

Y/NClarkson: that’s a wrap for Clarkson’s farm S3! Thank you for everyone who watches, comes to the shop and supports us bunch of idiots (as well as buying shitty beer that explodes🙄)

tagged: jeremyclarkson1, amazonprime, cooper_kaleb, thetallirish

8,507 comments

amazonprime: our favourite tractor driver 🙌🏼

→ cooper_kaleb: don’t make me laugh, half the season is her crashing the tractors.

→ Y/NClarkson: kaleb, don’t be jealous, just because my tractor is cooler than yours.

→ jeremyclarkson1: the lambo tractor is better than both of yours, don’t be stupid.

jeremyclarkson1: still don’t forgive you for crashing my lambo tractor.

→ Y/NClarkson: i literally crashed once, where is all this crashing information coming from???

→ cooper_kaleb: cctv

→ Y/NClarkson: oh shit, lol oops

→ username1: LMAO I LOVE HER

→ username59: her level of chaotic & sarcasm is what i aspire to be.

F1: looking forward to another season y/n, think you should come down to try and drive a car instead of a tractor😉

→ username43: UM?? girl what are you doing here??

→ y/nclarkson: get the redbull contract ready, i’ll be there

→ jeremyclarkson1: um hello? my invite? i literally host a car show.

→ y/nclarkson: you couldn’t fit in one of the cars mate, not drinking all that exploding beer.

→ jeremyclarkson1: fuck off

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@Y/NClarkson posted on her story!

liked by: F1, redbullracing, Jeremyclarkson1, danielricciardo and 298,412 others

Y/NClarkson: what a day! catching up with old friends and sipping champagne. Move over farm life, think being a F1 driver is the life for me😎

Cooper_Kaleb: thank god, i’ve been trying to get you fired for years.

→ y/nclarkson: wtf, you can’t fire me. you’d be lost without me?? you can’t anyway, only dad can🤪

→ jeremyclarkson1: you’re fired.

→ y/nclarkson: what the fuck, stop ganging up on me.

→ username67: i love their dynamic so much🥲

Username134: UM?? Y/N AND DANIEL?? ON THE FIRST SLIDE?? i smell something brewing.

Username46: wait they actually make a cute couple

Username89: she looks amazing!

DanielRicciardo: was good to see you again Y/N! So excited to see the new series - will have to come to the farm shop next time i’m in England.

→ y/nclarkson: please do! let me know when and i’ll show you around!😊

→ landonorris: where is my invite?? do i mean nothing to you??

→ y/nclarkson: not really, no.

→ landonorris: ma heart, ma feelings 💔

→ georgerussell63: wait i wanna come too.

→ Oscarpistari: me three

→ y/nclarkson: F1 day out?

→ danielricciardo: what?? no?? that’s not what i meant, i meant ME going to the farm, no one else.

→ georgerussell: boo, you whore.

Username657: LOL WHAT IS HAPPENING?? THE F1 BOYS ARE OFF TO DIDDLY SQUAT?? CAN THIS BE IN AN EPISODE?

Username98: daniel wants to go there alone…alone for a date?

jeremyclarkson1: it’s my farm, not y/n’s?

→ y/nclarkson: you’re like on the brink of death, it’ll be mine soon lol

→ jeremyclarkson1: i’m literally 64?

→ y/nclarkson: exactly

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━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

@Danielricciardo posted!

Liked by: Y/NClarkson, LandoNorris, Cooper_Kaleb and 897,357 others

Danielricciardo: summertime in the country🤍

Username80: UM IS THAT Y/N CLARKSON?? AS IN QUEEN OF CHIPPING NORTON?

Landonorris: i think my invitation got lost in the post

→ danielricciardo: it did not.

Username6: ARE WE GONNA GET A DANIEL CAMEO ON CLARKSON FARM?

y/nclarkson: chipping norton’s newest tractor driver🚜 Kaleb is getting replaced asap

→ cooper_kaleb: you’re literally fired

→ y/nclarkson: i will run you over with a tractor

MaxVerstappen1: you never told me you were spending summer with a girl?? does our friendship mean anything??

→ danielricciardo: if i told you, you’d of told the others and then it would have been like a school trip out.

→ georgerussell63: hey! no it wouldn’t, we just wanna meet y/n since you won’t stop going on about her.

comment liked by @y/nclarkson

→ username1: EXPOSED

y/nclarkson: you’re the cutest<3

comment liked by @danielricciardo

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@Y/NClarkson posted!

Liked by Danielricciardo, amazonprime, Landonorris and 560,895 others.

y/nclarkson: summertime lovin

tagged: danielricciardo

danielricciardo: 💛

jeremyclarkson1: get back to work

→ y/nclarkson: i literally was up at the crack of dawn feeding, i could hear you snoring from outside

→ jeremyclarkson1: that was lisa not be

→ thetallirish: you lying fuck

Oscarpiastri: does this mean you’ll be back at races now?? i miss you

→ landonorris: me too

→ georgerussell63: me three

→ alexalbon: me four

→ maxverstappen1: me five

→ y/nclarkson: i literally haven’t met half of you drivers

→ danielricciardo: welcome to the shit show

[golden1u5t]

mistakes | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: angst + fluff

ꨄ summary: you and spencer break up because he chose to believe someone else over you.

you phone had rang a million times, eventually you turned it off because you were tired of seeing the same name pop up each time: spencer. you couldn't imagine why he'd kept calling you over and over if he was the one who broke up with you because he thought you had cheated on him.

when everything had happened, you tried to explain to him that you didn't cheat and you were at home the entire day and the picture he saw was a picture from years ago. you don't know who sent the picture to him but it was a picture someone you used to know took of you at a party kissing some guy, it was old and way before spencer.

you hadn't gotten out of bed in a few days, only to shower and brush your teeth. your friends, really only one because the rest of your friends were spencer's friends and they absolutely hated you at the moment, came over to make sure you were okay.

a knock on your door pulled you away from your bed, you figured it was just your friend but when you opened the door it most definitely wasn't. spencer stood at the door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, he was drenched

from the rain pouring.

you were upset with him and hurt but you weren't about to let him stand out there and get sick. "what is wrong with you? get in here before you get sick!"

"why are you here?" you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced over his entire frame. spencer held the flowers out for you to grab, you hesitatingly took them from him and brought them up to your nose.

you knew why he was here, to apologize and try to get you back. quiet frankly, you would problaby go back to him just because he'd only broken up with you a few days ago and because spencer is honestly the best man you've ever met and been with.

"you were at home, like you said. i should've believed you, i'm sorry. just- can we talk about this- us?" he pushed his hair out of his face. you stared at him for a few minutes before nodding your head.

what's the worst that could happen?

"i'm sure you still have some clothes here and because i'm not a horrible person, you can go shower and stay here until the storm passes." you mumbled and moved past him.

when spencer got out of the shower, he found you sitting in the living room scrolling through your phone. you looked up when you felt the couch dip beside you. you shifted on the couch until your body was sideways on it, you drew your legs up to your chest and stared expectingly at him.

"better get to talking before you're walking home in the rain."

spencer had to suppress the smile threatening to show, he liked that you were still just as snappy as before. he cleared his throat and started to tap his hand against his pants.

"i'm so unbelievably sorry. I should have believed you when you told me that the picture was old, I shouldn't have believed an unknown number before you." he looked down to his hands before looking back up, you hummed in agreement and continued to stare at him.

"i'm sorry that I ruined everything we had, it was a huge mistake and i realize that now. i've hardly slept since everything happened. you were the only person that stayed with me despite my job being the way it is."

"because i love you, that's why I dealt with it. when you came to me with those accusations, i wish you could've felt what I felt. ive never felt a heartbreak like that before." you wrapped your arms around your legs. it was silent for a few minutes, just you and him staring at each other, thought's racing in your minds.

"would you ever consi-"

"yes," you didn't even let him get the question out because you already knew what he would say. yes, you would consider getting back together with him and really there would be no thinking about it. "in a heart beat. i would get back with you because I love you and- and even though you hurt me, i still understand why you did it."

spencer opened his mouth to say something but you held up your hand because you weren't done. "i know that i'm your first real relationship and your vulnerable when it comes to me, you'll believe anything that's believable. you've seen what's happened with other's relationships because of your job so it's only reasonable that deep down you would be scared that i would cheat or find someone better, if that's even possible."

"you should become a profiler with your ability to read people." he couldn't help but crack a small joke but he knew that you were right, everything you said was true and there was no denying it. you let your legs down and nudged his thigh.

"i was thinking about it, really. i mean, id get to be with you every second of the day. didn't you say your boss was looking to fill a spot?" you reasoning was absolutely horrible but it made spencer laugh, a sound you'd missed hearing.

you moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him. the second your skin touched his, he pulled you into him and held you so tight you almost couldn't breath.

"god, i missed you so much. i'll never to that again." he breathed, you nodded the best you could.

“you better not, i won't forgive you as easily if you do."

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG translation] Jure Maček, Joker Out's drummer: "I don't have time for dating"

An article and interview with Jure Maček, published in Suzy magazine on 1.3.2024.

Original article is available here for Slovenske novice subscribers. Article written by Anita Krizmanić for Suzy magazine. English translation by a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Music has accompanied the 27-year-old from Logatec since early childhood. He fell in love with it because of his father and grandfather, who were excellent musicians themselves. Besides them, he also had a number of other great teachers who introduced him to various genres, he played in the symphony orchestra and several bands, and just over three years ago, he finally found what he had been looking for – Joker Out, the band that became his new family. A pleasant and open conversation partner, who believed in his dreams and is living them today, gave us an honest interview about what his journey was like before he and his band embarked on the incredible odyssey that started last year before Eurovision.

Tours are tiring, but also incredibly exciting. // "They wouldn't let me play the drums in music school, because they weren't on the curriculum, so I decided that I would learn how to play them on my own."

"Each of us dreamed about one day finding ourselves where we are now. We're aware that many people don't have that chance. We miss home, we haven't been there very often in the past year, which we've already got used to. To each other, as well. We support each other and we know how to coexist. We're doing just fine, but there are moments when you have to grin and bear it. There aren't many of those, though, because we're mostly having a good time and we enjoy making music," a smiling Jure tells us from London, where the boys have been temporarily living and creating since the beginning of the year.

During our chat, he walks around the city and tells us that life with Bojan, Kris, Nace and Jan is very simple. "Because we're great friends, even though we could all use a moment of solitude now and then. Especially now that we're living in a small London apartment. But we know each other so well that we know what each of us is like, when and why he's in a bad mood, what he needs, and how to fix a certain situation. We're a nice and happy family," he smiles, and adds that they all know how to take a step back, but at the same time, they're firm when they want to emphasise their idea or opinion.

"Sometimes it's better if someone says what they're thinking out loud, presents their idea, and if we collectively latch onto something, we can get great results. It's the same with music," he continues.

LIVING HIS DREAMS AT PEACE

The fruits of their hard and dedicated labour over the past few weeks can already be seen, some are yet to materialise. The band recently sent 'Everybody's Waiting' out into the world, a song that centres the personal thoughts and contemplations that accompany many young people.

"When we make music, we try not to think about other worlds and the audience. When a song is being made, each of us has to feel it and add a small part of what makes him happy to it. When we get to the point where all of us are happy with our work, we know that we created something good, and that's also when people can feel it or find themselves in it," he says.

Joker Out, with their magic and meaningfulness, always take us into worlds where everyone is safe and understood, even when they think they're not. He agrees that a loving attitude towards yourself and others is key in the chaotic world that surrounds us.

"I am at peace with the people around me. I appreciate them very much and they make me even more happy to be in this world." He is grateful for fulfilling his dreams, which he never let anyone take from him as a young musician. "I currently make a living only from music, so I am living my dreams," he smiles.

After working on the album, the boys are leaving for the European tour.

DRUMMERS LIKE CONTROL

As a drummer, he keeps in the background, but that doesn't mean he lives in the band's shadow. "We're special people. We're happiest if things are under control. Just the fact that we sit all the way in the back says enough. You can see everything from there," he says, and adds that drummers are pretty technical types who are more reserved than the other band members. "We like the space we create for ourselves around the drums. That is our world and we really enjoy it. We're pretty nuts," he jokes.

We also chat about the band's fans, who are a unique phenomenon, as they know all the lyrics. "It's a crazy feeling when people abroad sing songs in Slovenian." Otherwise, he never craved attention and he's pretty introverted. "Out of everyone in the band, I'm the least enthusiastic about hanging out after gigs, not because I don't like the fans, but because I like my peace. I need time for myself after performances, which the fans very much respect and understand. After each gig, we take time to meet people, even if not all of us are there."

Despite looking thousands of girls in the eyes at gigs, his heart is currently not taken. "There's no time for dating. There was none last year, and none this year yet either," he laughs.

STEALING HIS MUM'S POTS

During our conversation, we also touch on his upbringing, and he tells me that he fell in love with music as a child, since his father Mitja and grandfather Cveto were also musicians. "I remember dancing around the living room with grandpa on Sundays, and moments when I stole my mum's pots from the kitchen, took them to the living room and banged on them with full force. All of that moved something inside me, leading me to being a musician today," he's convinced.

Another key moment happened when his father, who was also a drummer, took him to the concert of the guitarist and frontman of Dire Straits, Mark Knopfler, in Tivoli Hall as a boy. "That was probably where it first became clear to me that I really wanted this," he says. His parents enrolled him in the music school in Logatec where he studied percussion instruments for eight years, he played in a brass band and a symphony orchestra, he was a member of various bands in elementary school.

"They wouldn't let me play the drums in music school, because they weren't on the curriculum, so I decided that I would learn how to play them on my own. After that, I had a more and more successful band each year, it escalated until I joined Joker Out," he remembers his younger years, when he was getting to know various genres and enjoying his calling more and more each year.

"We drummers are special people," says Jure.

FALLING IN LOVE WITH FILMING BECAUSE OF HIS DAD

Music, however, wasn't the only thing he spent years getting to know. In high school, thanks in part to his uncle and his dad, who often took him to the field with him as a cameraman, he worked as a correspondent cameraman and editor for RTV Slovenia (Slovenian national television). "When they were looking for a cameraman at RTV Slovenia, I already knew and understood a lot of things. I kind of miss that job. It was very varied because I spent a lot of time in the field, I was at sports, cultural, and political events. During the time when I was both a cameraman and a musician, I realised that there were a lot of parallels between those worlds."

Now, he sometimes misses a slightly more regular schedule. "I used to be home at four in the afternoon, now I won't be home until May," laughs the likable drummer, who really liked working as a cameraman, but was mainly driven by his commitment to music. Now, for just over three years, he's been part of a band in which he's found something more. "I actually didn't really know how to get to that point, because in Slovenia, we often hear that you can't make a living from music and it might be better to find something else, that it's difficult to survive in the music world, that it's not worth it. But there was always something driving me so strongly that I was determined to prove to myself and others that it's possible."

THE CAMERA IS ALWAYS ON

If you want it strongly enough, you can achieve anything you want, he says. He's sure that as a musician, he will never achieve anything bigger than Joker Out. "Even though I like to emphasise that I'm living my dreams, it's not all sunshine and roses. The music world can be very tough, you have to fight every day, because you don't know what you're getting yourself into and what the result will be. Everything is a little unknown."

While the members of Joker Out are constantly discovering new unknown things in their creative world, they're definitely not unknown on the music scene. They caress our ears and souls with their finely crafted lyrics and excellent music. Their fans can now even hope that these outstanding young musicians will record a documentary about their journey in the near future. "We started recording in 2021 and we have a lot of things in stock that might interest people. With us, it's like this: when we're on tour, the camera can be on at any moment, so we have to be a little mindful of how we behave. Actually, everything is recorded – backstage, travelling, hotels, arguments, as well as lovely moments!"

The fans are thrilled by his not-at-all-reserved photos.

DREAMING OF SUMMER AND CAMPING

The magical pinnacle of the band's musical odyssey, which started even before their acclaimed Eurovision performance, happened last October in sold-out Stožice. On this colourful journey, they only had a moment to catch their breath at home before setting off again for new adventures. After a temporary move to London, the boys travelled to Helsinki on the 28th of February, where they did production rehearsals, and their European tour starts on the 1st of March. "We will board the bus which we will live on for one month. I'm looking forward to this experience and the bus tour, as it will be our longest yet," he doesn't hide his excitement. The band will come back to Slovenia for seven days at the end of March to regain their strength, then they will have a few performances in the UK, and on the 15th of April, they will lock themselves into a studio in Hamburg for a month, recording the album that was created in London.

"This year, we were home for three days, until the 4th of January, which makes the days spent in Slovenia even more precious," adds Jure, who is endlessly excited for the summer. "I've seen enough hotels in the past year, so I want a genuine holiday like in the old days, when a friend and I converted a car to be able to sleep in a camp. I miss simple holidays in nature and without a phone. That's what I really want this year, at least for a week or so," one of the most charismatic Slovenian drummers reveals his humble wish to us.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post!

[shiorimakibawrites]

Older

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Warnings: Angst, old grief, mild swearing Word Count: 564 Tag List: @loves0phelia , @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland Author's Notes: I have no idea where this came from. The Muse just went into angst mode for a little bit. Daredevil Masterlist General Masterlist

Older

Now, it wasn’t entirely unusual for you to turn on the lights and find Matt already home. He never used them when it was just him. Sometimes he flicked them on when he heard you coming up but other times he didn’t. You think he enjoyed making you jump with a startled ‘Matthew!’ when you hit the switch and found him standing right you.

Not tonight. Tonight, you found him sitting on the couch with his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. In one hand, he was holding a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t seem to have noticed your arrival, something that only increased your concern.

“Matty?” you asked. You had spoken softly but he still flinched like you had shouted. He lifted his head and you felt your concern turn to worry. His eyes were red, his cheeks stained with salt. He had been crying. “Matty, what’s wrong?”

He flinched again.

“D-don’t –,” he started, his voice thick with pain. “N-not that name. Please.”

“Okay,” you said, keeping your voice low. Sometimes when he was stressed, Matt experienced sensory spikes. Not always but that flinch implied this might be one of those times. Regardless, you tended to err on the side of caution. You came closer, torn between your desire to hug him and the knowledge that touch might be painful . . .

Qualms that Matt apparently didn’t share. He scooted over to the edge of the couch, dropping the whiskey bottle to the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t break. Just hit the wooden floor with a dull thud. Must have been the fancy one that Frank gave them as wedding present. This particular bottle had proven surprisingly resilient. But the bottle was put out of your mind in favor of the man wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face against your chest.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him against you more firmly. Then you slide one hand up to run your fingers through his hair. Matt usually found that soothing. Today was no exception. You felt some of the tension start to drain out of his muscles in his shoulders and back.

“Matt,” you said, lowering your voice even further. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” he muttered.

“I doubt that,” you said, massaging his scalp with your fingertips. “I doubt that very much. Anything that upset you this much isn’t stupid. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that.”

A deep shuddering breath. “Today was my father’s birthday.”

You remembered. Matt had been a little melancholy this morning but he always was when Jack’s absence was especially painful. Like his or Matt’s birthday. The day Jack was killed. Holidays. The day of your wedding. You made a soft, encouraging sound.

“He should have been turning fifty-four this year. But he’s not. And I just . . . I just realized that I’m older than my father. I got to see thirty-three and he never did. Risk my neck almost every damn night and I’m alive. But he’s not. And it hurts.”

His voice broke on that last word and fresh tears begin to soak your shirt. You tightened your arms around him, wishing there was something you could say that could ease this pain. Anything that would make it all better. But there wasn’t. All you could do was hold him while he grieved.

[thatacotargirl]

To the Ends of the Earth (2)

You asked for a part 2 to this, and part 2 you shall get!

Part 1 is here!

As always, inbox is open for requests for any ACOTAR characters.

Tagging @mybestfriendmademe for the kind request, thank you for your continued support angel 💖

Divider from the one and only @tsunami-of-tears! 💜

A Cassian x Reader Imagine

You wake with a groan. Your stomach was more settled and your head more calm, but a day full of agonising pain isn't the most conducive to a restful nights sleep. Rolling over, you are greeted by an empty bed.

It's hard not to feel a smidge of disappointment that Cassian didn't stay the night. You could have sworn that, last night, you'd heard him finally admit his feelings for you - the same feelings you'd harboured for countless years. Maybe your love wasn't as unrequited as you had once thought.

Dragging yourself up and out of bed, grateful to have not soiled your bedding once again, you head into the bathroom to freshen up and ready yourself for the day. The scent of Cassian still lingered on your clothes and it took everything in you to rip the shirt off your body and throw it in with the pile of dirty laundry.

Had Cassian really said that? Or had you dreamt it? Surely if Cassian really felt that way, he would have stayed? Or did he not realise you'd heard him? Did you hear him?!

You looked in the mirror and pouted at yourself. You were spiralling. Over a male, no less. Shaking off the thoughts, you got yourself washed and dressed, and headed to the dining room for breakfast.

-

Cassian and Azriel were already sat at the table, a bowl of porridge in front of them, chatting away. When you entered, both males fell silent.

"Good morning!" you called cheerily, setting yourself down at the table as the House placed a bowl of porridge in front of you.

"Morning, y/n. How are you feeling?", Azriel asked, shovelling another mouthful of porridge in mid-sentence.

"Better thanks, not 100% but better".

You glanced at Cassian, but he simply nodded into his porridge, avoiding eye contact with you. Huh?

"Thanks for you help, Cass", you offer him a smile - only to find it is met with indifference.

"Welcome", he replied, not even offering a glance up to you. You gaze over to Azriel, who simply shrugged, but you couldn't help noticing the small smirk he had on his face, and the sly nod he made in Cassian's direction. Cassian remained silent, finishing his breakfast faster than he has before, and left the table without Azriel, and without a goodbye.

"What was that about?!"

Azriel's smirk only grows bigger. He knows something, and I'd bet my right hand it has to do with Cassian taking care of me yesterday.

"Perhaps you should find out", Azriel offers, the smirk never leaving his lips.

Is that a challenge? I think it is. And if it's a challenge Cassian wants, it's a challenge he's going to get.

About an hour later, you find yourself heading up to the training ring atop the House of Wind. You have no intention of training today, still going through the throes of your cycle, but a little light stretching never hurt anyone. And, if you happen to be in the skimpiest pair of shorts you own, and the tightest sports bra barely holding you in, whilst Cassian is stood across the ring, that's just a coincidence - right?

Laying out your mat, you start some yoga poses, careful not to make eye contact with the Illyrian brothers sparring opposite you. Even without making eye contact, you can feel Cassian's gaze burning into your soul. You hear a sudden thump, and raise an eye to see Cassian sprawled on the mat, Azriel victorious on top of him.

"Distracted, brother?", Azriel asks mischievously. You have to hold back a giggle, carrying out another pose that you know makes everything stick out in all the right places. You hear Cassian huff, and watch discreetly as they start their sparring match again.

You stay for an hour, stretching out your muscles and working on some core balance, before rolling up your mat.

"Later boys", you call, throwing a wink in their direction. Azriel laughs, waving you off, but Cassian remains frozen solid - not daring to glance in your direction. It doesn't change the heady scent of arousal that wafts in your direction as you spin on your heels though, which takes on a distinct sandalwood tone, the same that had clung to your shirt last night.

Feeling pretty confident, based on Azriel's behaviour today and Cassian's response at the training ring, you decide to kick it up a notch.

You run yourself a bubble bath - which is realistically more bubbles than it is water - and settle yourself in. Cleaning off the sweat from your hour long yoga session, you wait patiently, listening for the distinctive heavy footsteps of the Illyrian General.

When you hear them walking down the hallway, you make your move.

"Is someone out there?", you call. You hear Cassian's footsteps stop outside your door.

"Y/n? All ok?", he calls back cautiously.

Carefully situating yourself so you are completely covered by the bubbles from the neck down, you smirk to yourself.

"Not really - I've got myself in a bit of a pickle and I can't reach it!".

You hear Cassian open your bedroom door and stifle your laugh when he pauses, clearly confused as to where you are.

"Can't reach what?"

"The shampoo, Cass. Give a girl a hand?"

You can almost hear his breathing from how deep it is in the adjoining room.

"Why can't you get it?"

"Why, because I'm all wet silly! Rhys won't be happy if I damage his floor by getting it soaked". You knew it was a bold-faced lie, the House would dry the floor instantly for you. He could correct you, he could tell you that the House would dry the floor, or that the House would even get the bottle for you if you asked it to. Or, he could walk in and give it to you. The choice was his.

You waited, almost giving up, before you saw the doorknob to the bathroom turning. Cassian walked into the room, hands over his eyes, as he reached out blindly to your shelves.

"This one?" he asks, holding up a body lotion.

"Nope"

"This one?" he asked, holding up a bottle of perfume.

"Cass, please just pass me my shampoo".

Cassian turns his back to you, making sure he can't see, before locating the shampoo and passing it to you without looking. You can see how hard his body is moving from his deep breathing.

"Thanks Cass".

"Yep, ok, good, welcome, is, um, is that all?"

He's flustered.

"Yes, thank you".

Then he ran, so fast he almost tripped on the carpet, out of the bathroom - your laughter following in his wake.

As evening approached, you began to get frustrated. You had spent the entire day taunting him, trying to get him to react, and the most you had got out of him was a blush.

You knew you weren't wrong - Cassian had some sort of feelings for you - and you wanted to know what they were. But, if he was going to play this hard to get, it was more than just a challenge you'd taken on - it was a damn suicide mission. You had to hit it in the one place he wouldn't be able to handle. You'd have to fight fire with fire.

As the Inner Circle gathered around the dinner table that night, exchanging stories of their day, your eyes fell to Azriel. He looked at you, confusion marring his face, until he saw your eyes glance over to Cassian, then back to him. His shadows, whirling around his face, filled him in on the rest of your plan; and Azriel smirked, leaning back in his chair.

Dinner was swiftly finished and everyone descended to the sofas in the main living room of the House, glasses of wine and whiskey in hand. You waited until Cassian was seated opposite Azriel, settled with his glass, before you made your move.

Sauntering up to Azriel, you gave him a smile, and sat down on his lap before taking a small sip of your wine. His legs moved, accommodating you, so you could lean against his chest. You didn't dare look up at Cassian, but you could feel the stares from the rest of your family, who were absolutely baffled about the scene unfolding in front of them.

"How about a drinking game?", you suggested, your voice cheeky and mischievous.

"Heck yeah!" Mor replied, "how about truth or dare? If you don't answer the truth or do the dare, you drink".

"Sounds great! Mor, you go first".

A few rounds went by and soon you were all in fits of laughter. Cassian had flown around the House of Wind entirely naked, Feyre had taken a shot of whiskey off of Rhysand's body, and Elain had admitted her crush on Lucien - much to everyone's whooping and excitement, and Elain's sheer mortification. Soon, it was Azriel's turn to ask you a question, and you saw the wicked gleam in his eye before he even opened his mouth.

"Y/n. I dare you to kiss me".

You gape at him, still seated in his lap. You can feel Cassian's gaze blaring at the back of your head as you turn to face Azriel. He winks at you knowingly, and you feel your confidence rising.

"Very well, I'm not one to turn down a dare".

You begin to slowly lean in to Azriel, eyes closed, before you are suddenly hoisted into the air. You open sharply, and realise you are staring down over Cassian's shoulder. You look up and see Azriel laughing on the sofa, Feyre in stitches on the floor, and Rhysand with a beaming smile on his face.

You stay silent as you let Cassian carry you up to his bedroom. He places you on the floor, his face red with fury.

"What the fuck was that about? Do you have feelings for Az?"

It was so comical, you couldn't help but laugh. Cassian stared at you absolutely bewildered.

"What's so funny?"

"He was doing it to wind you up, Cass; we were both in on it, I've been doing it all day".

"But why?"

You felt your own face flood red then, eyes on the floor as you fiddled with you hands.

"I heard you. Last night".

Cassian froze.

Several minutes went by in silence.

"Did ... did you mean it?"

Several more minutes went by before you dared to look up, your eyes meeting Cassian's. You saw the guarded look in them, his eyes searching yours. Clearly, they found what they were looking for, because his entire body softened.

"I meant every word of it".

You lunged at him, wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he hoisted you up and into his chest. You both stayed like that, holding each other for some time. When you lifted your head from his shoulder, you noticed he was smiling, his eyes swimming with love and adoration. You felt a warmth in your heart that you'd never felt before, and clung to him tighter, resting your head back on his shoulder with a sigh.

"I'd go to the ends of the Earth for you too, Cass".

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Mmmm, my transition is going better than I ever could've dreamed. My doctor just upped my dose of estrogen a couple months ago and put me on progesterone. Look at these tits I'm growing! They're so suckable, so perfect for grabbing and slapping around. They're totally perfect! My hips are getting wide and I'm finally getting a girl-butt, it already jiggles as I walk. So do my thighs. I've put on like thirty pounds in two months but my doctor says it's totally normal and not to worry at all. He said I should expect to put on more weight, that it's just my body naturally finding its perfect size as a woman, every trans girl goes through it! I can also expect my boobs to grow. And apparently my libido!

Before starting on these drugs I had like zero libido. My cock rarely got hard. I'm tucking it and pushing it against me bed right now but my cock is actually really hard, which feels kinda nice even if it's pretty embarrassing. I've started humping my pillows and other things around the house, I'm just so horny, I can't help it. My cock grew out of nowhere from about two inches to six! My doctor said that's normal, too, and not to worry, if my cock gets too big we can always remove it. But I confided that I sorta liked the idea of having a big dick, and he said most trans girls secretly do.... Guess I'm not alone! The only thing that even remotely helps soothe my constant horniness is eating. So, I miiiight have started stuffing my face when I'm super horny. Hey, my doctor said I can expect to gain weight. What's the harm? I can't go around constantly shooting ropes in my panties all day. Well, I could but I don't want people to judge me negatively as some kind of nympho. Even if it's totally true! ❤️"

"Urpppp..... ugh.... Fuck, look at how big my gut's getting guys. You can't even see my huge cock under all this blubber. It feels so good when I drop it and it smacks into my fupa and thighs. Fuck! Why does being this fat turn me on so much? This is so disgusting. I only shower once a month..... I should've told my doctor to take me off progesterone back when I was still thin and sexy and not such a goddamn pile of lard. Who gains this much weight in two years? I'm 630lbs! I guess that means I'm piling on about 260lbs a year..... Over 20lbs a month! And my doctor couldn't be happier. I think it turns him on to see me get this big. Every time he checks my blood pressure and sees how bad it is, or tells me how my diabetes is advancing, you can tell his cock is getting rock hard. He loves seeing girls get fat! I can't believe I didn't realize he was turned on by it sooner.

My family is already prepping our house for me to become immobile like it's totally inevitable. I can't stand it, but I'm also morbidly turned on but just how much fat I've piled on so quickly. Just a couple years ago I was a perfect, curvy trans girl, big perky boobs, my cock was like ten inches and crazy thick from me playing with it all day, especially as I ate. Guys loved my body and it felt so cathartic to be so desired. I loved being fucked in public, or even just having men come up to me to reach up my skirt and jerk me off on the bus or on the train. My thick thighs would jiggle, my tits would bounce as I'd roll back my head and eyes, moaning as these strangers would come up just to grab my fat cock and jerk it off for all to see. Now my pretty boobs are just fat folds, barely distinguishable from the rest. My cock is about twenty inches but it's so buried by rolls and folds of lard you wouldn't even know I'm trans. Guess I finally pass.....

I can't even jerk off anymore. At best I can push my thighs together and press my belly down to crush my cock to masturbate, but that's about it..... I'm just a filthy, sweaty, pile of lard. A total pig. My parents are just as much enablers as my doctor. They bring me food all day, even rub my belly and compliment how fat I'm getting. Once I got over 300lbs and stopped going out as much because walking wore me out so fast, my mom started jerking me off as I ate, because she saw I was getting too fat and weak to masturbate on my own. My mom still relieves my cock but it's much more humiliating now. She'll comment on how I never shower, how much I stink, laughing at my uncontrollable gas and constant stomach gurgles and loud noises. She calls me a hopeless cow and says this is what I get for wanting to be a girl. That finally I have a real woman's body and she hopes I'm happy with myself.....

She'll push through my fat folds as I lie back and grab my oversized cock. She'll smack my balls, each the size of coconuts, really hard to 'get me going', then she'll jerk my cock and usually shove two or three fingers in my urethra to fuck it. She'll do this until I climax, all the while calling me a fat, hopeless pig who's gonna weigh over 1000lbs. My dad runs my old social media pages and films these jerk off sessions to upload to all my old pages, so everyone can see what a disgusting fat pig I've become. My dad will gloat, walking in as I sit in a huge pile of my own mess, sweating, belching, my heart pounding through my chest as my body forces more of the junk I pile into my mouth out all around me. I'm just way too fat and lazy to get up and use the toilet.

They let me suffer and sit in my messes for a day or two before they hire a crew to come in and clean me off, treating my body like an oversized object instead of a person. Pushing and pulling me every which way, hosing me down, scrubbing with long brushes between my folds. I still try to shower on my own every month or so but I know I won't be able to much longer. I'm just getting way too fat..... It's all my doctor's fault! And there's no way he'll ever help me lose a pound. The faster I'm headed for a heart attack, the more it turns him on. I wonder just how many trans girls he's done this to? Judging by his Instagram page and the girls commenting on his posts, I'd say hundreds..... Most of them are thanking him for getting them so fat, so maybe I'm just ungrateful? Next time I see him I should tell him to fuck some of my rolls if he wants. He got me this fat, he might as well enjoy his work....."

[softzindagi]

Some of my thoughts on maxton hall and why i loved it so much:

- im so glad that they didnt have james being a dickbag and kissing other girls after he met ruby

- the contrast of james and ruby’s families, the polar opposite in fathers. I love how they still had james and lydia be each other’s rocks in such a crappy situation when they have no one else, even if their relationship isn’t the best. The dichotomy of their relationship to ruby’s and ember’s? things can go wrong but they are sisters who love each other deeply.

-i loved the very pride and prejudice esque scenes of ruby dressing james down, and every time he deserved to be told off but it still makes ruby feel guilty afterwards. there’s a moral compass of ruby that james hated at first but it humbles him? Chefs kiss its so fucking good. He betters himself just like darcy and the change is seen even by his parents.

- the scene of ruby telling james off in the oxford course, its a pivotal scene because everything she says digs at things he knows. Young Beaufort wasnt his idea, it was Lydia’s and he’s taking credit and charge of it. He feels bad, he’s forced into it, but it’s the “you go through life representing wealth to which you have contributed absolutely nothing? With so much money, there’s no need for your own ideas.” Ruby has no idea how hard that actually hits home, and you can see Lydia take a step back mentally and yeah she agrees. The rest of it, how people will only like him for his money and not himself, that also hits so close. We see how Cyril laughs inspite of James’ pain, Alister is impressed by Ruby’s dress down but no one goes after James like a true friend would. As the series goes on you see how Alister and James grow closer as he becomes a better person, you see the care and concern because they’re in similar places but Alister isn’t as proud or arrogant as James is. I really love how by the end of the series, you have James and Alister confiding in each other.

- the scene on the lacrosse field, the way she apologizes and he is arrogant but decides to be nice because he is curious, and finds out that he does like her. She humbles him and makes him want to do better, she’s not the enemy and he kinda respects her for it. I also think, he’s never had anyone genuinely apologize to him, because he’s never had anyone wrong him but his own family. The apology, it’s a catalyst for him to let go of this resentment he has for her, in the truth she dug up in him.

- i am very happy that they have the good and the bad with ruby’s parents. The guilt that Ruby feels and the way her father is not happy that she is “wasting” her money on saving for his lift. There’s care there, but it’s hard nonetheless, those are big emotions to have years after an accident like he experienced.

- piggy backing off of that, the pivotal scene of James saving Ruby from the pool, that even though he didn’t know why she didnt come up but didnt hesitate to jump in? CHEFS KISS! The scene after of her confiding in him, him being so gentle and careful and being honest with percy, that he’s in over his head but he likes ruby, he wants to help her and has helped her. Oof just so fucking good!

- the way they keep telling each other that they should go back to never knowing each other, but every time fail because they’re meant to collide now, they MATTER to each other now

- i just really am glad they had him apologize for the shitty way his father was to her. That he was embarrassed by himself and his father. It was excruciating to have her get humiliated by his father. He’s only experienced it within his own family, but having it happen to Ruby? that changed things.

- they fucking nailed the cute scenes between them. The dancing in the victorian clothes, the chasing pigeons, the planning and setting up of the gala? Hell yeah!

- The whole fourth episode was chef’s kiss, no notes just purely good storytelling

More thoughts later but this is what i’ve got rn after rewatching the show for the third time

[rosietaeyongswife]

mission: prom | jung jaehyun

genre: fluff, angst, teenage romance paring: jaehyun x reader synopsis: what happenes when prom is in a month, and you haven't been asked out yet? wc: 7k tw: curses

Your father was looking at TV, when he realized you didn't come down for dinner. It's been already 30 minutes, since he have asked you downstairs. A little bit concerned, he went upstairs to check on you and boy, he didn't expect to find you sitting on the bed crying with your earphones in.

"Y/N?" He asked, but you couldn't hear him. He came closer and tap you on your shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry, dad. I got caught up."

"Why you're crying?" Your eyes drifted away from his, to hide embarrassment. "C'mon, you know you can tell me."

For a moment, you held back, because your father might not care, but it's better to let go of negative energy.

"I haven't been asked out to prom, yet." Trying to hold tears in wasn't easy. "It might be silly, but I wish I could go with someone. All my friends are going with their partners, and here I am. Don't worry, I just needed to cry and I'll be fine."

"Y/N, don't be silly. It's still a lot of time, and I assure you, there is a gentleman who is going to ask you out. I promise." He hugged you. "You're pretty, smart and funny girl. Who wouldn't want to go with you? Crazy. Don't stress about it, love." He got up and smiled at you. "Mum made pasta, your favortie one."

There was an ache in your father's heart. Did he feel heartbroken? Yes, probably yes. His little daughter was crying alone in her bedroom, because no boy asked her to prom. He wants only the best for you and wishes you happiness, and there's no way, you're going alone.

He never said anything, but he was thinking about it all night. What to do? And after a while, realization hit him. Your dad is a football couch at Seoul's University, so he's facing a bunch of boys only year older than you, daily. One of them could be good for you. Here come a list in his mind.

Yuta Nakamoto? He's Japanese, and he's just a year older, studying business at University. He's really respectful, smart and funny but he found him annoying. A lot of rumours say, he's a playboy and he doesn't look for anything special yet. Out.

Kim Jungwoo? He's tall, handsome, funny guy of the team. Jungwoo never fails to make anyone smile, and he's engineerer student so it makes him perfect canditate. But. He's shy, and boys were talking about him and some girl. Out.

Kim Mingyu? He's also very tall, handsome and mysterious. A lot of girls have a crush on him, but he's not the smartest among the team, and he has a temper. Sometimes he's too stubborn and it's not cool. Out.

As your dad was thinking about it, his hopes went down. Is there anyone, who isn't douchebag or dumb? He isn't going to set up his precious girl with some jerk. And then an idea popped.

Jung Jaehyun. Tall, handsome, funny and respectful student. He's studying business with Yuta, and a lot of girls have a crush on him and teachers love him. He's most polite person, your dad has ever met. Professors always praise him, because he always gets high marks and he's the best football player in the team. On top of that, his father was an old friend of your father. He helped Jungs in the past, making Jaehyun's dad, a professor in United States some time ago. Bingo.

On your way to classes, all you could hear was your friends bragging about their prom dates. It was annoying you, because you still don't have any date. Jealousy was getting over you, but you hide it as much as you could.

"Doyoung came with a big sign and flowers in his hand." Sohyeon said with a proud smile, showing you picture of her boyfriend. "I was stunned. Imagine, Kim Doyoung showing up with these things to ask me out, crazy."

"Jungwoo wasn't original." Jimin said with a pout. "We were hanging out at his dorm, and he turned the TV off. I looked at him, and he asked if I wanted to go with him."

"I mean, it's Jungwoo, we're talking about." You pointed out. "At least, he did ask."

"What about you, Y/N?" Sohyeon smiled at you widely. "I bet there must be some hottie. Tell us."

"Actually, nope."

Girls tried to comfort you, but you were aware of reality. Majority of people had already dates, and this wouldn't change much.

"I bet someone will ask you out." Jimin hugged you. "Look, I had no idea few months ago, I'd be dating Doyoung. I used to stay at home 24/7. And look, I'm dating him."

"For real, you can't stress about it. I mean, going alone isn't the worst. Many people go alone. It's fine."

"Yes, I bet it is. It'd just be nice to have a date."

"Imagine if someone like, oh." Jimin pouted. "Jung Jaehyun asked you out. Do you remember him? A year ago, everyone and their moms had a crush on him. He's literally the most handsome man I've ever seen. Besides, Jungwoo right."

"Oh fuck." Sohyeon nodded with a laughter. "He once asked me about a teacher, and I could fall because of his beauty."

"I've heard, he asked Chaeyoung out by getting on his knees with her favorite flowers in hand and sang her a song. Isn't it romantic?" Jimin and Sohyeon both were daydreaming about Jaehyun. "He never sings for anyone, so she must've been special."

"Wow, that's awesome." You nodded. "Do you think they're still dating?"

"Maybe? I have no idea, but Park Chaeyoung is studying law, and he's doing business at different universities. I hope they broke up."

"Why? You can't say that."

"C'mon, Y/N. He deserves better."

Park Chaeyoung was known pretty and popular girl among your year, just a year ago. At first, everyone thought she's nice and polite, but then it turned out she's the most fake person, that school has ever seen. If she didn't like someone, she'd turn their life into hell. People got to know, few weeks after prom and since then she left school to write SATS in another school.

The weather outside was sunny and warm, which resulted on bunch of men being sweaty and greasy. They've been running nonstop for past half an hour, and it was just a beginning of practice.

Your father was thinking what is he supposed to say to Jaehyun to make him agree.

"Jaehyun." Younger man turned around to check what's going on. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, couch. What's up?"

"Listen, I have an odd question." He nodded. "You know my daughter, Y/N, right? She used to come here with me some time ago."

"Oh, Y/N. Yes, I know her. Not really know, but I know who she is. Why?"

"What I'm about to say may be crazy for you, and I understand if you wouldn't like to agree, but I'm desperate." Jaehyun was confused. What do you have to do with him? "She hasn't been asked out to Prom, and she probably won't be. I love her, and I can't bear the pain to see her heartbroken. Would you ask my daughter out to Prom?"

Jaehyun was stunned and he had no words. What was he supposed to say? He doesn't even know you. At all.

"I like you couch, and I respect you, but I don't really know her. I don't think it's a great idea, maybe you should've asked Yuta-"

"No. You're most normal guy here. Jaehyun, please. Think about it. I'll let you play in the main squad in semi finals. I promise."

"I'll think about it, couch."

Jaehyun wasn't sure what to do. At first, he was certain to say no, but your dad promised him place in the main squad on semi finals. It's his big chance right there.

After the practice, he went straight home and wanted nothing else but sleep. As he was about to shower, his father called him.

"Jaehyun, did Mr. Y/L/N asked you?"

"Oh, God. You too?" He hissed. "It's crazy dad. I literally don't know her at all. Am I supposed to show up at her door tommorow with a flower in a hand and as if she wants to be my prom date? Please. It's ridiculous."

"I know how it sounds, but you need to agree." He sighed and Jaehyun once again, was confused. "Her father used to help me to get a place in professor staff. Thanks to him, I could work at Harvard. He helped me, and it's time to return a favor. I'm not asking you to date her, son. Just one night."

Only two weeks until prom, and here you are with your mother and Jimin in a shop with all the beautiful dresses. The longer you were in there, the more mad you were. All the dresses you tried on, were either ugly or not flattering.

"Baby, I think you need to make your mind. There's plenty of choice. Pick something."

"I'll just get something black." You said with a grin. "Nothing else looks good on me, black is classic. And heels. Whatever."

Jimin felt bad, because you were excited just a ten minutes ago, but now you're tired. After picking a dress, three of you came to your home. Your mother was busy with conversation with your father, while you and Jimin were looking for makeup inspirations on Pinterest.

"I think I'm doing glam." Jimin showed you a picture of glam makeup on some girl. "I need to go extra hard, you know."

"Well, you should. I bet you're going to look amazing, Jimin."

"You too. Find yourself a good inspo, and we'll be slaying the shit out of that place."

After few minutes, Jungwoo came to pick Jimin up. Both of them are supposed to have a dinner date tonight. You waved them goodbye, but you noticed how Jungwoo was looking at you and whispered something to Jimin. She seems to be excited, but she played it off and left. Weird.

As you were packing your stuff for school, a door bell rang in the whole house.

"Y/N, open the door." Your father ordered you to do it.

It annoyed you. Both of your parents were sitting downstairs in the living room, yet they called you to open the door.

"Hi, who-" You stopped mid sentence. "Jung Jaehyun? What are you doing here?"

You got outside and closed the door after you. Jaehyun was wearing a black suit and he was looking really fine in it. In his hands were small boquete of rosses, and you were real confused at the moment.

"I came, because I want to take you to Prom together." He smiled and showed you his dimples. He also gave you the rosses. "Y/N, will you be my prom date?"

He was smiling at you, looking adorable and all you could do was sigh.

"No."

Jaehyun was baffled. He didn't expect such an outcome. You were supposed to be extra excited, say yes and hug him, thanking for saving you, and he was supposed to play in semi finals. And you have audacity to say no?

"What do you mean no?"

"No, I won't let you be my date, Jaehyun." You were smilling, and it didn't help Jaehyun to realize what's going on. "I guess my father must've asked you to do it. Damn, he really pitties me."

"It's not like that, I mean, I mea-" He was at loss of words. "You were supposed to say yes. I thought you still don't have a date."

"That's true, I don't."

Jaehyun was laughing ironically.

"Then what's the issue? Agree and you will have a cute date, and best time of your life with me."

"You don't even know me, Jaehyun. We were friends when we were, like, 5?" You laughed at Jaehyun expression, handing him the flowers. "I appreciate your efforts, but I don't want to go with someone who pity me."

Before Jaehyun could speak, you left. He was baffled on the sport in front of your door. He was theoritically dumped. His pride got hurt a bit, since no one has ever told him "no" until today. Not only pride got hurt, but his hope also died. He can't let go. He needs sport in main squad, it's his chance to become someone big.

"Y/N you're going with me wheter you like it or not."

And with that he left. He promised to himself, he's going to make you change your mind and secure a spot in main team.

It's been five days since Jaehyun has showed up at your door with rosess in his hand. You didn't tell anything about it to your friends, becasue they would get worked out over nothing. Sohyeon and Jimin were busy with their love lives, while you kinda stuck with them to kill boredroom.

"Wait." Jimin stopped on her track. "Isn't it Jung Jaehyun's car?"

"What do you mean?"

Three of you turned your gaze towards black Mercedes, that was parked in front of your school. Plates said exact numbers, Jaehyun owns.

"That's weird." Sohyeon chuckled. "What does he need from here?"

Before anyone could answer, tall male got out the car and was making his way towards you and your friends. Your hearbeat got faster, and you were about to faint.

"Is he coming towards us?"

"I guess."

You had internal battle with yourself, wheter to run away or stay still and die of embarrassment.

"Y/N." The way his voice sounds, made you even more nervous than you already were. "I came by, and I'd like to give you ride home."

Witnesses of this scene were baffled. It was some fanfiction shit in real life, because how the hell, is Jaehyun picking you up from school?

"I don't think it's necessary."

"C'mon. Don't be so lame, let's go."

"I can handle myself." You hissed. "Thank you, but nope."

"I won't ask twice. You're either coming with me or I'm tell-"

"Fine." You didn't give him a chance to speak. "I'll go with you."

You waved your friends goodbye and left with a weird stranger, who doesn't seem to let go.

"Why you're so cold, huh?" He smiled at himself, while he was turning on engine. "I know we don't know each other, but what's stopping us from getting to know each other? Nothing."

"Listen, I don't want to get to know you, alright? You're so annoying, I told you no. What part of my decline you didn't understand?"

Jaehyun was smilling at himself, because of how adorable you were. Annoyed and angry because of him.

"Because I want to be your prom date, how simple is that?" He teased with his eyes focused on the road. "I see no cons of that situation."

Listening to him was getting on your nerves. The next thing you're about to do, was to have a talk with your father. It was all his fault. You being in that car was his fault. Jaehyun getting on your neveres, was, also, his fault.

"We don't know each other, I won't go with a stranger."

"Then we'll get to know each other, simple."

As you were about to protest, you saw how he turned in the wrong way. It wasn't the road towards your home.

"I think you turned in the wrong direction."

"C'mon, did you really think we're going home so soon?"

"I want to go home, Jaehyun." You rolled your eyes. "I appreciate your effort, but it's nonsense."

Jaehyun didn't answer, but kept his smile on his lips. This whole time feels like an illusion. You're in Jaehyun's car, going God knows where. What if he's a psycho, who's about to kill you?

"Easy, I'm not going to kidnap or kill you."

"What the fuck?" Now you were scared. "How did you-"

"I can see it in your facial expressions. Believe me or not, I'm not into killing pretty girls."

"So cliche."

"And funny."

After ten minutes, both of you get out the car. The sight in front of you was quite mesmerizing. It was a lake with woods around. The views was impressing, but you had no intentions to say it out loud.

"How do you like it?"

"It's cool." You shrugged. "It's the place where you take all your girls, right? I guess it's a nice location."

"Don't be so mean. I don't take anyone here." He replied, going towars small bridge. "I am here once every few weeks. I like it here. Peace and sound."

"So.. Why are we here?"

"To spend some time together?" He was sarcastic, which made you even more annoyed than you already were. "You said, you're not going to prom with a stranger, then I'll stop being a stranger."

"Jaehyun, I wasn't joking-"

"What's your favorite color then?"

"Really?" You couldn't believe your ears. "You're asking me about my favorite color, God."

"Just answer me."

"I don't know. Red probably?"

"Red. Sounds good. Mine's black, since you haven't bothered to ask."

"It's because I don't care?" You tried to keep your cool, but Jaehyun made you nervous. "Geez."

"Another question."

"I feel like I'm taking a pop quiz."

"Good, that's the point." He leaned by the bench. "Why you're always wearing your earphones in? Ever since I can remember, you were wearing them since the beginning of the high school."

"I like music, isn't it obvious? I just prefer to listen to music to talking with people."

"So you're an introvert."

"And you're an extrovert, I suppose."

"Opposites attract, you know."

"Stop with this cheesy lines, Jaehyun. God."

"I like how you say my name. Cute." He smiled at you, and you tried to hide your smile. He wasn't that bad. "Do you have any questions?"

"Why business? I thought you're into different things."

"Oh. Well, my father made me do it. My plan A is to become a football star." He chuckled with you at your reaction. "My plan B, made by my father, was to become CEO and open own company."

"Sounds secure. Cool."

"I don't know. Economics and business is so fucked ubp. I baerly can do basic math and it's driving me crazy. College is a real deal, Y/N." You smiled at his words. He must've meant it. "And you? Your plans for future?"

"I'm not sure yet." You sat down on a small bench. "I'm thinking about either psychology or criminology. Both are interesting, but it's dificult. I don't think I'm ready for an adult life."

Jaehyun could only nod at your words. It was true, it is scary, but it can be overcomed.

"You're going to figure it out. I bet you're going to be good at whatever you're going to pick."

"Oh, thank you. How cute." You said with a sarcasm. "I appreciate your piece of advice, but it was shitty one."

"C'mon, don't be so negative Miss."

"Don't call me miss, that sounds weird." You made disgusted face. "I think you should drive me back home, my father is probably wondering where am I."

"Oh shit, for sure."

Ride back home was rather fun. Jaehyun was talking about all the times he had embarrased himself or fun stories he and his friends had. It seems like Jaehyun is really cool guy.

"Thank you, uhm, for the ride."

"You're welcome, see you around Y/N."

A little smile crept on your lips, he isn't that bad. Your father was doing dinner for both of you, when he noticed you.

"Was it Jung Jaehyun's car or am I wrong?"

"Indeed. He insisted, dad."

"Do you like him?"

"I bearly know him, please. He's not that bad, but he's still a stranger."

"Cool." He hummed. "Dinner will be ready in a few."

After small talk with your dad, you came into your room and finally checked all the messages from your friends. As you were about to reply, an outcoming call came.

"Hi."

"Why the fuck did Jung Jaehyun came for you?"

"Exactly, mind explaining?"

"I don't know, he just came by, I guess."

"Came by? Y/N Y/L/N, be for real. Why didn't you tell us both of you are talking?"

"Because we aren't. He's just an old friend."

"Doesn't make sense at all. Girl, we should've known before. Now, tell us everything."

You cooked your brows, because you didn't feel like telling your friends about Jaehyun.

"There's nothing to talk about. We met few times, and that's all. I swear." You tried to keep it cool. "I'm sorry but I have to go, my father calls me."

Sometimes Jimin and Sohyeon get out of hand. They're really annoying with your business, and you don't really like it. Relationship with Jaehyun could only mess up your and your friends.

Past week was really exciting for you. All the time, you had spent with Jaehyun. He literally made you laugh so much, and you had really time of your life. Your friends didn't ask much, they just let you do your thing. For the first time in a long time, you felt happy. Jaehyun brought so much joy into your life, which was cool.

"So." Jaehyun looked up from his cup of tea. "I was wondering, if I can be your prom date?"

You almost choked on your tea. The first time Jaehyun has asked you out, it was weird and funny to you, but right now it made you nervous to speak.

"I guess you can."

Jaehyun chuckled a bit and hugged you. You felt redness spread across your cheeks because of that small gesture. There's no way you're falling for him, right?

"See you on friday then. Make yourself look pretty, Y/N."

"I'm always pretty, dork."

"I never said you weren't."

Humming in response, you laughed at Jaehyun. Both of you were about to head home, he's living just five minutes away from you. When you opened the door to your house, you could hear your mother voice.

"But you can't just ask somebody to do it, Jezus."

"Please, calm down it's not like-" He noticed you. "Y/N, hi. You're finally home."

"What were you arguing about?" You chuckled a bit, but you still were concerned. "Both of you look weird, is everything fine?"

Your father took a quick glance at your mother, and then sit down on the counter.

"Not really, we were arguing about my managment of my football team, nothing serious."

"Okay then."

"Honey, are you ready for prom?" Your mother stopped you from going away. "I mean, it's this friday and I want you to feel special."

"Not really."

The next day, your mother took you out on a shopping spree. This day was all about you. Your mother was really happy that both of you could spend a day together after a long time of not doing so. Walking through shops was making you a bit dizzy. Dresses were elegant and beuatiful, so the choice was hard.

"What about this one, Y/N?"

You turned around to see a green mini dress, and you were certain it's not it.

"I don't think green is my colour, mom."

This went on and on, and what supposed to be a nice afternoon turned into a nightmare real quick. Your mother was annoyed with your choices, and the fact you haven't found any of the dresses cute.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I think I can help." A woman with a precious smile on came by. "My name is Jennie, and I've been working here for three years, so I have some experience."

"Thank God, I can't do it anymore." Your mother rolled her eyes. "Y/N be quick."

She then left to sit on the couch and check her phone, while you were on your way with Jennie. She seems to be a nice girl and she was really cool with you.

"I'm sorry for my mother, she's like this sometimes."

"Don't worry, things like this happens here daily, believe me. I know how to deal with it."

"Must be harsh."

"I got used to it by now." She smiled at you. "Here, elegant dress. Black and maxi, what do you think?"

"They're amazing. Wow, I've never seen anything prettier."

"I know right? Well, here's all the dresses available in black. I think black is everyone's go to. So let's take a look."

After ten minutes of going through, what seems like a hundred, dresses, Jennie picked one.

"That-"

"Is beautiful, I know." She ended your sentance. "Try it on."

It was black, elegant and slevless dress with a square neck. The dress made you pop and look like a princess. Looking at your reflection, you felt beautiful for the first time since forever. You felt like you, but more confident and cooler.

"Excuse me, Mam." Jennie approached your mother. "Your daughter was wondering if you might want to take a look at the dress we choose."

"Finally, okay."

Facial expression your mother had, was spechless. It was a moment where both of you went silent and just looked at each other.

"So, what do you think?"

"You look perfect, Y/N. This is the one, honey." She turned her back and looked at Jennie. "Can we get shoes too?"

D-day, here's your prom night. Jaehyun felt comfortable around you, so were you. Both of you have been texting each other about most casual stuff, as if you had known each other for years. Also, he was annoying you, because he wanted to see the dress, but you told him no. It's supposed to be a surprise.

A bell rang. It must've been him.

"Y/N, someoen's for you." Your dad called you, and suddenly you felt anxious. What if he doesn't like what you wear? "Y/N, c'mon."

Making your way down the stairs, you prayed in your mind for him to like it a lot. On the other hand, Jaehyun was mesmerized by your beauty. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"Y/N, you look gorgeous." Jaehyun couldn't take his eyess off of you, which made you blush. "You're killing it."

"Thank you." You tried to hide your face. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Sorry, my bad."

Ride towars the place of the prom wasn't silent at all. Jaehyun was talking with you about everything like usually. He also couldn't stop looking at you. For the first time in a long time, you felt appreciated by someone else than your parents.

Dance. Everyone who had a pair had to dance. Jaehyun learnt the steps in a day thanks to you. You couldn't tell who was more excited: you or Jaehyun. Whole school had eyes on you and your partner for tonight, but you couldn't care less. Tonight feels like a dream. It was all thanks to God. If it wasn't for him, you would spend the worst night of your life alone, but here you are with Jung Jaehyun.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am."

"Video Games" instrumentall started playing. Your steps were graceful, smooth and pretty. Jaehyun was watching your every move almost hipnotised. At this very moment, he realized how much he does actually like you. Jaehyun got attached to you by last weeks. To be fair, he was mad at himself that he hadn't had a chance to get to know you before.

"I'm one lucky man to be here with you."

"Didn't you tell the same thing to Chaeyoung?" You laughed, while Jaehyun silenced for a minute and let out a small giggle. "I'm lucky one. I don't know how did it happen, but I'm happy nevertheless."

Jaehyun eyes widened. For a qucik second, he remembered conversation with your father. He felt awful for a second, but then he let go. It doesn't matter. What matters is the fact he likes you.

"No, I told her something different. I guees." Both of you giggled, as you were making your way towards the tables. "I'm glad that Doyoung and Jungwoo will be here. I feel like I'm grandma among teenagers."

"You're just a year older, idiot."

"Still. Year may be a lot."

"Dumb."

Sohyeon and Jimin were really excited for you. They had never seen you happier than tonight. Ever since you've been hanging out with Jaehyun something changed in you. Like a small sparkle in you woke up. None of them knew the real reason why did Jaehyun asked you out. Their boyfriends told them, he was intrested in her for a while since Chaeyoung left the school. It was really believable, because you were one of the prettiest girl in the High School.

"So, Jaehyun and Y/N, are you dating?"

Jungwoo asked all of sudden, and for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

"Dude, I swear to God." Jaehyun rolled his eyes at his best friend. "Leave us alone. Are you alright, Y/N?"

"Yes, I am."

"So? What's the answer?"

Before Jaehyun could answer, you were faster to reply.

"No. We're friends."

Jaehyun couldn't explain why, but he felt an ache in his heart at your words. It was an honest true, why would he feel hurt? He brushed it off, and just nodded at your words.

Jimin punched Jungwoo playfully, and changed the topic.

"What about we dance? I hear Rihanna, and everyone is sitting down. C'mon! Let's dance!"

Circle of your friends got up on the dance floor staying there for almost hour. All the 2000s hits were blasting through the speakers, and you really were happy. Nothing could ruin your night. It's the best day of your life.

"I need to rest." You said, and sat down with Doyoung while the rest went for the drinks.

"Wow, I haven't seen Jaehyun so happy and chill for a while now. Did you do something to him, Y/N?" He chuckled.

"Nope, haha. What are you talking about?" You laughed at him, and took a sip of juice you had. "I thought he was always this happy."

"He had a rough time lately, and now he's dancing on the dance floor with us. Believe me, he would never do it unless he was drunk."

Doyoung's words warmed up your heart. The thought of Jaehyun being happier just because both of you hangs out made you smile. He isn't such an asshole as you thought for some time.

An hour passed, and everyone had a great time. Girls were dancing with you, boys would come to dance too. It's an unforgetable night for you.

"I need to smoke. Anyone?"

Jaehyun, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Jimin all got up and left. Jimin had to call her mother, while you stayed with Sohyeon. Your friend was really drunk, close to passing out.

"Are you alright, Sohyeonah?"

"Yes, yes hell I am." She was chuckling. "I feel great." She was stuttering, and you felt bad for her. "I want more."

As when she was going for another drink, you took it from her.

"Girl, do you want to throw up? Leave it alone." You were laughing at her failed attempts to get the drink from you. "Stop it."

It's been five minutes, and you wasn't laughing at all. Sohyeon wasn't chuckling or saying anything, she was almost passed out.

"I need to go to toilet."

Her voice was shaky, so you were fast to react and go with her. She was on her knees throwing up, as you were holding her hair.

"Who-" Jimin voice stopped. "Oh my God, is she so drunk?" She got on her knees, and took a look at her friend.

"Yes, she looks like a ghost. I don't think staying here more, would make it better."

"God." Jimin rolled her eyes. "Can you go for Doyoung? He should take her home or something. I'll stay with her. I know what to do, but she should rest."

"Of course."

You felt bad for Sohyeon, she has always been a lighthead. Jimin knew what to do with her, but you had no clue. You went by your table, but there was no one there so boys were still outside. Many people were going in and out, so it was hard for you to notice them in the crowd. Finally, you saw familiar sillhouete. As you got closer you've heard Jungwoo's voice.

"Are you still going to keep in touch with her? I mean, you already did what you've been asked to." Jungwoo was chuckling. "She's great girl, but do you want to?"

Been asked to? You felt as if your heart was breaking in two. What does it mean?

"I don't know. Depends."

"Ya, really?" Doyoung was laughing. "You got your spot in a team, and you says depends. Coach isn't going to be the happiest with such an answer."

"I mean, that's true. I like her but.." Jaehyun wasn't able to end. "I don't know how to explain this. I would -"

He couldn't end, because Jungwoo shook his head in your direction. Here you were standing with makeup running down your face. Crying so hard, you almost forgot how to breathe.

"D-Doyoung, Sohyeon is throwing up in the toilets. Take her home." IT was all you could say.

Three of them were shocked to see you. You've heard the conversation out of context. It seems like Jaeyun used you for his spot, but he didn't get to finish his true feelings about you.

"Fuck! Y/N stop!"

Jungwoo went together with Doyoung, leaving two of you alone.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Jaehyun!" You screamed on top of your lungs. "I knew my father must have asked you for it. I knew it. How could I be so stupid to think you did it by yourself! I'm such an idiot."

"It's not like that! I really like you, please. Hear me out!"

"No, I don't want to talk." You wiped away your tears. "I'm coming home. I don't want to see you anymore."

"Wait, Y/N."

Jaehyun was about to chase you, when he realized it's done. You overheard him and his friends in a wrong timing. He was about to say how much he does adore you, and how it depends on you and how you see him. Now it's fuckin done, because you know it was your dad favor.

Prom was supposed to be your dream come true, and it turned into a nightmare quickly. It's been almost a month, and you're still with your thoughts in that night. Your father apologized to you about thousand times.

"I told you to leave her alone! She could've gone by herself. Happens. It would be better than going with your boy. Gosh, what have you done?" Your mother was annoyed. "Now she doesn't talk to you and I support her."

"I only wants the best for her! That's it! I couldn't look at her being hurt. I wanted my little girl to have her moment, is it so bad?"

Jaehyun called you and texted you, but you didn't read nor respond to these messages.

On the other hand, Jaehyun was upset. Heartbroken. Depressed. He wasn't sure why did he take it so personal. He was sure he couldn't get you out of his head. Jung Jaehyun understood you and wasn't surprised by your behaviour, but he was selfish. He wanted you to text him back, to say you missed him. His friends were surprised by his acts, because he never was such a wreck because of a girl.

"Y/N." Your dad got into your room. "I may sound selfish, but I want you to talk with Jaehyun. Semi finals are this weekend, yet he's really not himself. We need to win and I know to you I'm an asshole but please."

"Do you really expect me to talk with him?"

"At least show up on our match. He would be better if he could see you. Please. It's important for boys and for me."

"I'll think about it."

Your dad nodded and left. Of course, it was obvious that semi finals are important for your father as a couch. But you were still hurt. It wasn't even because of your father and Jaehyun, but by you. How could you believe Jaehyun would liked you? It was eating you alive. Everyone knew you went to prom together, yet he wasn't feeling you. That's what you supposed.

The door bell rung. You were alone, so you had to open the door and you saw two men. Jungwoo and Doyoung.

"I don't want to talk to you." As when you almost closed the door, Jungwoo stopped you.

"Y/N, why can't you talk with him?" Doyoung asked desperatly. "He's a wreck. I've never seen him like this before. I swear to God, it was out of context. It was bad timing."

"Look, it must be hard, but the coach wanted the best for you, and Jaehyun? He caught feelings! Can't you see?" Jungwoo hissed. "All he could talk about is you and how much he regrets not going after you."

"We understand if you don't want to know him anymore. Okay. But please, Y/N, come on the weekend for semi finals. He has to give his best, but he's not able to do so."

Doyoung really was desperate for you. The look in their eyes could tell it was truth.

"I can come, but." Their eyes lighten up. "I don't want to talk to him. I'm doing that, so you can leave me alone."

Two guys hugged you and left. They were thankful for you.

Semi finals were about to start. Seouls University, coached by your father vs. Yonsei University. It's a big event among students. There were about thousand people at least. Whole area was occupied. Jimin and Sohyeon reserveted places for you three.

"Hello, finally."

"Here I am. Where's the guys?"

"They're going up."

You looked over at the field and there they were. Your eyes couldn't help but lend on Jaehyun. He wasn't able to see you. Deep down, you prayed for his best performance.

After first half it was 2:0 for Yonsei. Boys were throwing curses and were mad. Jaehyun couldn't score a goal at all. He was furious, and got yellow card for bad behaviour.

It was a break in between.

"You should go there, Y/N." Jimin said. "Jaehyun isn't going to score these goals, because he is still focused on you and he had no idea you came for him."

"I came because they all asked me-"

"Don't lie. We know deep down, you couldn't not come."

"Go, you have less than five minutes."

In your mind there was no other choice. You were running for your life to get down there for them. Jaehyun had to see you. You had to tell him to get it together. Tell him you forgive him, even though you don't want to.

"Guys, please! Focus! Jaehyun you are so close to score a goal, yet you miss every single time!"

"I'm sorry coach, I really try to."

At this moment you walked in. Boys turned their heads at you and decided to leave you alone with Jaehyun for a minute.

"Minute and I see you back."

"You really came." Jaehyun came and hugged you. "I'm sorry for everything, I miss you so fuckin much!"

"Jaehyun, get it together. You are supposed to be MVP. Please, it's important."

"I try to do my best but I can't focus."

"I forgive you. I forgave you long ago. I'm not mad about it anymore, so please. We're fine. Do your best."

"Thank you." Jaehyun wanted to kiss you. He needed that but your time was out. He had to go play.

The other half was different. Seoul University had ball longer than Yonsei. There was 15 minutes left and the score was 2:1. Yuta managed to score a goal few minutes ago. The longer you were watching, the more stressed you were.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Jung Jaehyun and Kim Jungwoo are running towards Yonsei. Wait, Jungwoo passed the ball to Jaehyun. He's close to scoring. Wait! Jung Jaehyun scored another goal! It's 2:2. One of the team needs to score another goal to win and to go to half finals."

Jaehyun did it. Just one more goal. Boys were faster, while Yonsei boys were already tired. They thought that your father's team would let go.

"I'm stressed. I hope they win."

Last 5 minutes. Jaehyun needs to score another goal. You were watching him closely. Mingyu was trying to pass ball to him, but he was blocked by the opponents. Yuta was trying his best to block other team, but it was hard.

Finally, Jaehyun was running as if he wasn't human. His speed was so fast, people didn't get what was going on. All of a sudden, Mingyu managed to pass to Jungwoo and he passed to Jaehyun.

Goal. Jaehyun did it. Time is over and Seoul University won 3:2. They're going towards finals!

"OMG THEY DID IT!"

Everyone was screaming and jumping. Boys were hugging each other and were about to give speeches through the microphones.

"I'm proud of my boys." Your dad appeared on the big screen. "I taught them well and now they won again. I love them as if they're mine kids. Congratulations boys, we got it!"

"Yuta Nakamoto, how do you feel after this win? You scored first goal for your team, you must be proud!"

"Fuck yeah! We did it! Again!" He was screaming. "We're not stopping anytime soon! We're not afraid of anyone, I'm sure we're going to win South Korea Football Competition. I know it!"

Few boys gave intervies until it was turn for Jaehyun. Your hearbeat was as fast as Jaehyun during the match.

"Jaehyun you won MVP today! You scored two goals giving your team to chance to move forward. What's your thoughts?"

"It's not thanks to me but thanks to the whole team. Our teamwork is amazing and we did it. We really are the best! I love my boys! I'm grateful I can do it with them and celebrate!" He took a microphone from a journalist hands. "Excuse me, but I have to say something to someone I hurt really badly. Y/N." Your heart stopped for a second. "I meant to say it long time ago. I think I'm in love with you. I know I was an asshole and now you're propably embarrassed as fuck, but please. I love you. I miss you everyday. I miss those little dates. When Jungwoo had asked us if we were dating, I'd like to answer yes. I wished to. I wasn't sure of your feelings. I know I fucked up big time, but please. Can you forgive me for real and talk to me?"

"Yes, Y/N, wherever you are, please come down to us and get your man!" Journalist shouts to the mic.

Your friends pushed you to make you move. You ran towards Jaehyun. It was crazy. Jaehyun loved you. He really did. You ran towards his arms and hugged him.

"I forgave you. I think I love you too."

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

Instead of answering you kissed him. Everyone was cheering for you, but both of you were too busy with each other.

"Yes. Of course, yes!"

[writers-potion]

No, you’re NOT a real reader. I’m so sick of all these people that think they’re readers. No, you’re not. Most of you are not even close to being readers. I see these people saying “I read over 52 books this year! That's one book a week. I'm so smart!” that’s nothing, most of us can easily read 176 books or more in a year. I see people who've only read Daniel Green and claim to be readers. Come talk to me when you pick up Atlas Shrugged, then maybe we can be friends. Also DEAR ALL WOMEN: Fantasy is not a real genre. Romance is not a real genre. Omegaverse is not a real genre. Forced Proximity is not a real genre. Romantasy is not a real genre. Coleen Hoover is NOT. A. REAL. WRITER. put down the baby books and read something that makes your brains hurt for once. Stephanie Meyer and Jane Austin don't count. :) Sincerely, all of the ACTUAL readers.

I don't know where to start, because you've called me out on too many occasions in this paragraph. Here are my (probably unpopular) thoughts on this:

Agreed that the sheer AMOUNT of books you read doesn't make you a good reader - it's what you understand/learn/feel about them that gives you the right to comment properly on a book.

Excuse me but fantasy and romance are genres??

Omegaverse, forced proximity and romantasy are subgenres/tropes in romance that I don't have anything against. If you don't like romance in general, well no wonder you don't like them.

Jane Austen was the author that got me into reading classics. What the hell do you mean when you say she doesn't count???!!

Stephanie Meyer - okay, the first book in the Twilight series wasn't bad, the rest went downhill....don't like her much but I can see why she's popular...

For me, as long as you read, you're a reader.

I believe the purpose of reading (apart from being entertained) is to expand our horizons, step into someone else's head and look into how others see the world. Throughout my reading journey, I've learnt to be better than to judge others on the honestly quite narrow subset of the human experience I've had.

Sure, not all books/genres are "helpful" per se. But novels are meant to allow readers to experience a diverse range of emotions that they otherwise wouldn't, and if reading give someone pleasure, why not? Even though I personally don't like romance too much, I can see the appeal of just wanting to read something for the fun of it. As long as they don't confuse reality with the six-packed, tall & rich billionaire heroes, I respect everyone's reading lists.

NOW, one last note:

Coleen Hoover IS TERRIBLE. Commercial success aside, I hate how to turns literal CRIMINALS into romantists (which doesn't even work).

COLEEN HOOVER IS NOT A REAL WRITER. I'll agree with you on that one.

[into-crazy]

hot tub surprise

Negan Smith x Female Reader one shot

Non-apocalyptic AU // The Walking Dead AU

Summary: You sneak over to your older next door neighbor's house and use his hot tub. Hoping that he'll come out and catch you.

Warnings- mature language, alcohol consumption, age gap(reader's over 18, Negan's in his 40s), breaking and entering, NSFW, SMUT, slight masochism, masturbation, degradation, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, ages 18+

Author's Note: There were a few times where I had to stop and take a deep breath to calm down because it got pretty hot lol. But I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you guys like it♡

💕divider by @saradika-graphics

There was something you always liked about your next door neighbor, Negan Smith.

Maybe it was because you were into older men. It could be his cocky, devil-may-care personality. Or perhaps it was that deep husk in his voice that always made your pussy throb. But ever since he's moved here you've had your eyes on him.

You are under the impression that perhaps Negan was attracted you too. As he showers you with compliments every time you see him. There have also been a few times where you've caught him staring at you a little too long. And he's always searching for a reason to be able to "accidentally" touch you in some way.

However, he's never actually told you or made some sort of move. Though neither have you.

The reason being that you are still currently living with your parents. One of them is always around which makes it difficult for you to try and flirt with him. You don't want your parents to know that you're attracted to your older neighbor. What would they think if they found out? Certainly they would disapprove. What makes the matter even worse is that Negan is really good friends with your father. So.. double yikes.

Still, you're always looking for the perfect opportunity to make a move on him.

Luckily for you, your parents are going out of town this weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Your father took another day off from work so that they can come back on Monday. That way they have more time to spend alone together. So there had never been a better opportunity for you than now.

Negan's got a hot tub in his backyard. He had it installed last year. On cool, windy nights he's often in there. In nothing but his black swim trunks, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. You know this all too well because you have a perfect view of it from your bedroom window. It would be embarrassing to admit how many times you've looked out of your window to see if he was out there. Not that you're a total stalker. Only staring at him for no more than a few seconds before carrying on with your day. But man, seeing his wet body sure does make everything better. That broad, hairy chest and those toned, tattooed arms glistening from the water. You've certainly fantasized about being with him in that spa plenty of times. Straddling his lap and making out with him until one of you takes it further.

Negan had said that your parents or even the three of you could go over to use it anytime you wanted. Your parents had went together a couple times. You didn't want to feel like a third wheel, so you didn't go when they invited you. There wasn't any way you would go by yourself, as it doesn't seem appropriate. However, now that your parents are going out of town for a while.. perhaps you could make something work with that.

//

Thursday evening.

Your father and Negan are sitting on the patio, having a couple of beers. When Negan asks about weekend plans, your father tells him about their anniversary getaway. How this is their 25th year together and they wanted to do something special. They are going to be staying at a luxury, spa hotel next to the lake. Spending the entirety of their time there relaxing by the water, drinking expensive wine, and getting full body massages.

"That sounds very nice, the two of you will have a great time." Negan offers his thoughts on the matter. "Twenty five years? That's fucking remarkable."

"Yeah, thanks. We're really looking forward to it." Your father replies before downing the rest of his bottle. "Hey, y/n!" He calls for you from outside.

You poke your head out, briefly locking eyes with Negan and giving him a nod before looking at your father. "Yeah?"

"Could you grab me another beer, sweetheart?"

Negan leans forward, holding his bottle up. "Make that two, would you?"

You go to retrieve them and your father asks Negan if he has anything going on this weekend.

Negan takes the last sip of his beer, taking a second to ponder on it. "Do I have something to do? Uh no, not much." You come back outside with two beers in your hands. Walking over to them you hand your father his beer first as he was closer. "Think I'm gonna spend the weekend drinking and relaxing, myself." You go to give the other bottle to Negan. His hand reaches out to grab it as he keeps talking, "maybe take a dip in the hot tub." His fingers brush over yours as he takes the beverage. You look at him and he gives you a half smirk, "thank you darlin'."

"You're welcome." You smile back at him before turning around to go back inside. God, the tension you've just felt. Also, that pet name definitely made you blush.

Good thing your father was focused on popping opening his bottle and didn't notice the exchange. Because you were certainly burning up after that. Why does Negan keep doing that to you? Surely he must know the effect he has on you. And that mention about his hot tub was certainly a jab at you. Yeah.. he knows. He fucking knows!

//

Friday arrives.

You had work/studies the whole morning. But your parents spent the time getting everything ready for their trip. Making sure that they had their bags packed, and checking to see that things at home will be in order while they're gone. Once the afternoon rolls around, you are in the driveway waving your parents goodbye.

"Have a great time- and drive safe!" You call out just before they drive away.

Finally, you will be home alone for the next few days. Which means you'll have Negan all to yourself.

You've come up with a bold plan. Something risky. You are going to make the first move. Show him how very interested you are in him.

Negan had left his house shortly after the sun had went down. Which wasn't an issue for you, since that would make it much easier for you to carry out your plan.

You picked out the hottest, most revealing bikini that you own and booked it over to Negan's house. Making sure that none of the other neighbors see you before letting yourself in through the backyard gate. It wasn't new to you as you've already been here quite a few times for casual hangouts and such with your parents. But it's now the first time you been over here by yourself. It brings on a surge of adrenaline.

Taking the time you have to set the mood, you start up the spa. Turning on his radio and setting it on low to your local station that plays all the best love songs. After everything seems to be set, you take off your clothes and climb into the large tub. Settling into the water with a sigh. The water is hot and the jets feel amazing on your back. Now you know why Negan loves this thing so much, it's incredible!

Some time goes by before you ultimately hear the sound of a car pulling up front. You get up out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub. On the farthest one, that way you are facing the back door in which you anticipate Negan will come out from. There are lights being turned on inside, confirming that he's home. Your heart pounds faster in your chest when you realize they're getting closer. Then the light above you comes on, the door swings open, and out steps Negan.

The instant his eyes land on you he is visibly shocked. "What the hell- y/n? What are you doing here?"

His eyes travel down your entire body then snap back up to your face. You're wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he's ever seen, it's barely covering anything!

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. He's got on a fitted tshirt with some dark jeans, and his leather jacket folded over his arm. You grin at him before reply, "hi Negan. I hope you don't mind that I came over for a dip, since you said I could anytime." Using one hand to brace yourself on the tub, you lean back and spread your legs. Running the other hand teasing up your thigh. "I'd really like it if you'd join me."

He speaks to you with a mixture of anger and urgency, "damn it y/n, this seriously isn't the-" Something cuts him off.

"Hey, there you are." A woman suddenly steps out of the house looking for Negan. You quickly close your legs, startled by this new woman's presence. Her gaze immediately widens at you before turning towards him, "I'm sorry, who's this?"

This is one of the most embarrassing things that could have ever happened to you. Clearly she saw you flirting lewdly with Negan. You search around desperately for something to cover up, but there's nothing nearby. The lower half of your body is frozen in place and refuses to move. So you sit there awkwardly. Managing to get out, "shit, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't realize you had company."

The woman still stares at Negan, expecting an answer. He sighs, "this is my neighbor. She lives right next door. Look I swear, I didn't know she would come over like this. But I know her parents and we'll find a way to deal with this."

He looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, which crushes you even more. You wish you could just go back to prevent this from happening.

The woman still appears uneasy about the whole situation, and rightfully so. You've just completely interrupted their evening. She motions towards the door, "yeah I think I'm going to go. You obviously have something here you need to take care of and I really don't want to stay for that."

Negan swears under his breath, shaking his head before replying. "Yeah, I understand."

He opens the door so she can go inside and grab her things. As she goes in, he directs his attention towards you. "Stay right there. Don't you go anywhere, young lady."

You give him an apologetic nod and he steps in after the woman. Sinking back into the water as it gives you some form of coverage. This sucks. It seriously does. Now you're worried that he's going to tell your parents about this, fuck! You use the time to come up with something, to beg him not to tell on you.

A minute or so goes by before the opening of the door catches your attention. Negan steps outside. He takes a few steps towards you, then plants his feet and crosses his arms. He looks beyond pissed. "Well then, would you mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing?"

You tense up, unable to make or hold eye contact with him. Instead choosing to stare down at the water in front of you. "I-I'm really sorry, Negan. I shouldn't have come over like this."

"No you shouldn't have, this is highly inappropriate." He berates you more. "And you know that. What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears start to form in your eyes. You feel like a dog that's being scorned for peeing on the carpet. "I know it is, and I'm so sorry.. But I promise to never do it again. I'll just go home okay. P-Please don't tell my parents about this."

Negan clicks his tongue sharply at that. "Shit I don't know. There's a lot you did that I can't just let go. Breaking into my backyard, using my stuff without asking, wearing practically nothing and then opening your legs in front of me like a fucking slut."

You miss the way his tone changes towards the end of that last sentence. "I sincerely apologize, and especially for ruining your date. I didn't mean to do that. I won't do it ever again."

He exhales heavily. "Look at me."

You muster up enough courage to bring your gaze up towards him. He looks hot when he's mad. And you hate to admit it, but his scolding gives your core a pleasant sensation. It's a strange feeling, you're unsure how to describe it. Your thighs squeeze together as a result of that. Negan seems to have caught on to that as well.

"I guess I don't have to tell your folks about any of this," he starts. "And I won't tell them, if you get back up that ledge and spread those legs again."

"I'm- you want me to do what?" You reply shakily. Not sure whether you heard him correctly or not. But that heavy look in his eyes tell you that he was dead serious.

"I said get back on that Goddamn ledge and spread those pretty fucking legs for me. You want me to keep my mouth shut, don't you?"

A shiver rattles your spine at his words. You nod, "mhm."

He gives a hum. "What are you waiting for, then? Get your ass up there."

You emerge from the water and sit right back where you were before. Doing as you're told and opening your legs. Shame and arousal mix together pleasantly throughout your body when you notice his gaze trailing over every part of your body.

Negan gives a wolf whistle, "Hot damn that is a wonderful sight to see." He is at the other side of the tub now, leaning against it to get a better view. "Now do me a favor and undo those straps, sweetheart. I wanna see it all."

Using your hand you release every strap of your bikini. Starting first with the top, then the bottoms. Letting the articles fall onto the floor behind you. You are now completely naked, your plush breasts and warm cunt on full display before Negan.

He licks his lips, "shit baby, you look absolutely fucking gorgeous." There is a tent at the front of his pants, indicating that he's getting hard from the sight of you. He removes his own clothing, stripping down to his boxers. Then he climbs into the tub, sitting at the opposite end of you. "Go on and touch yourself."

Your fingers move to your clit, drawing circles at a teasing- yet pleasurable pace. Inserting them into your aching hole then bringing them back to smear your wetness around your bud. Releasing moans and whimpers that are music to Negan's ears.

He runs his own hand over his bulge. His breath is getting heavier, "is this how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?"

"Yes," you nod, admitting that you do.

"Yeah, I bet you think about me every time huh? Thinking about my fingers instead of your own inside you. Sitting that pretty ass on my face while I eat that pussy. Or my cock slamming in and out of you as I fuck you dumb. Is that right baby?"

Your hips stutter as you listen to every filthy word that left his mouth. "God, yes.. I think about you all the time Negan. I want you s-so bad."

A chuckle leaves his lips. "I know you do." He leaves the wall and comes closer to you. His hazel eyes filled with lust. "And you wanna know something? I want you too." Standing directly before you, he places his large palms on your thighs. Gliding them up to your stomach. "I've wanted you for so long, you have no fucking idea how crazy it drove me." He brings his face closer to where his lips are almost touching yours. "And now that I've got you all to myself I'm gonna take my time and enjoy every second of it."

He leans in, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. Slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth, you can taste the whiskey that he'd been drinking. The roughness of his beard scratches pleasantly against your soft skin while he devours you. One of his hands caresses your breasts as he trails wet kisses and marks down your neck. Pulling back slightly to look at your breast when he rubs and pinches at your peaked nipple. "You've got some nice tits." He states, taking it into his mouth to suck on the bud.

Your fingers run through his hair while he sucks marks on to your chest. Meanwhile your core is aching for some attention, your hips press against him. "Negan, please."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Look at you squirming for me. Don't worry, I'm gonna give you what you need." Sliding further down your body, he brings his face to your pelvis. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, wasting no more time as he buries his face in your eager cunt. He licks a long strip up your slit towards your clit, letting out a deep groan. "Fuck, your pussy tastes amazing." He laps at you a few more times before his tongue travels upward to lick and suck on your clit. Inserting two of his thick fingers into your dripping entrance, he begins pumping them in and out of you. Skillfully curling them against that spot that immediately gets you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Oh f-fuck, right there- please." You moan, right on the verge of sweet release. Trying hard not to be too loud as to not alert any of the neighbors.

He can feel by the tightening of your walls that you are about to cum. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my face."

His approval was everything you needed. Your orgasm gushes out of you while you let go with a strained cry. Negan laps it up with a satisfied hum. There's a shift in his eyes when he looks up at you, they're darker. Hungrier. Once you come back down from the high you bring your focus to his cock, straining to get out of his drenched boxers. The article sticking to his skin, giving a gorgeous outline of his manhood. You reach down, palming it. The action making him hiss.

"Want something, darlin'?"

You reach under the waistband to fully grasp his hardened member. Stroking it while whispering, "I want this.. want you."

"Good, because I need to feel that pussy around my dick now." He snatches you off from the edge, turning you around and bending you over it. Tugging down the rest of his boxers, he pulls out his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance and slides right in, the intrusion making both of you groan. The water sloshes around more violently as he pounds into you. "Shit you're so fucking tight. Keep sucking me right in" He pants while thrusting into you. You moan in ecstasy, not able to do much but lay there and take his cock. He leans over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head to the side so he can talk in your ear. "Such a dirty fucking girl you are. I wonder what your old man would think if he found out, hm? That you snuck over here and let me fuck you like the horny little slut that you are."

You let out a loud cry in response, your spongy walls clamping tighter down on him. "I.. I don't know." Was all you manage to mutter out.

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, brushing past your sensitive skin. "Oh you don't? Maybe I should ask him then."

"No!" You nearly scream out loud. "Don't tell him, please!"

His brutal thrusting doesn't falter, slamming into you balls deep every thrust. "I won't if you promise to be a good girl and cum on my cock."

"God yes- yes! I promise to cum all over your cock."

His hand snakes in front of you to rub firmly on your clit. The extra stimulation making your body tremble uncontrollably under him. You are so close to cumming and so is he, but he needs you to let go first. He urges you on, "that's it baby, cum for me."

"Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your eyes roll back and you finally cum. Cunt squeezing down hard on his cock and milking him of his own orgasm. He pulls out of you just in time to shoot his load all over your back. Releasing a deep groan as he paints your skin with his warm, milky seed.

"Holy shit," Negan laughs breathlessly. The two of you stay there for a few seconds to catch your breaths. He is the first to move, "alright stay right here. I'm gonna get something to clean you up." He exits the spa, going to collect a towel from the towel rack. Stepping back in he uses the article to wipe your pussy and the cum from your back. Making sure you are nice and clear before tossing the soiled cloth on to the floor. He taps you lightly, "all done."

"Thank you," you return coming off the edge and settling down next to him in the relaxing water. Both naked and satisfied.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, giving you a sweet peck on your lips. "That was fucking incredible."

"Mm, sure was." You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his chest.

His thumb brushes affectionately against your arm. "It looks like I've got you all to myself for the next couple of days."

"What happens after that?"

He gives a half smirk. "We'll figure that out later. But you are mine and I'm not giving you up, that's for damn sure."

You grin widely at his answer.