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#but i tried to keep it to a small summary
sturniqlo · 3 days
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Motherly Instincts- M.S
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summary: mom!y/n has trouble putting the baby back to sleep, dad!matt sees that's she's getting overwhelmed and near the edge of breaking down. BLURB
cw: slight cursing, ANGST; crying, being overwhelmed, postpartum depression, FLUFF; soft kisses, reassurance, comforting
an: i tried my best to not use a name for the baby but i kept getting confused when i used the baby and y/n in a sentence so i chose a random name | lowercase intended | a continuation(?) to spilled water
masterlist | mia masterlist | join my taglist
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"got the baby back to sleep?" matt asked and opened his arms back up for y/n to crawl into him. "mhm." she hums, and snugs herself into his arms. he wraps his arm around her shoulder and she leans her head on his chest. y/n's eyes keep going back and forth between the movie playing on the television in front of them and the baby monitor that sits on the coffee table.
"hey, she's okay, i promise you. i'm sure she's fast asleep by now." he whispers and places a kiss on her forehead. "i know, but what if her swaddles comes undone. or what if it's too tight?" she bites the inside of her cheek, worrying.
matt frowns slightly, for the past couple of weeks, y/n hasn't really been herself. she's more quiet, she gets irritated quickly, she only interacts with the baby when it's necessary "i just- she's so fragile, you know?" is her excuse.
in reality, everything is right. y/n has been trying so hard to create a bond with her baby girl. she's tried so hard but, there's something inside of her- almost like a voice- telling her that she isn't fit to be a mother, that her baby doesn't like her. she sees how matt and his brothers have a bond with her own baby, who she grew for nine months. it gets to her.
y/n always has to excuse herself and cry in the bathroom when she sees her baby crack a smile with someone who isn't her, or when mia isn't fussy when someone is carrying her. there has been multiple occasions where mia doesn't let y/n carry her and she squirms in her arms but, when she's given to matt, she isn't fussy anymore. it breaks y/n's heart.
2:36am
the clock on y/ns nightstand reads. the speakers of the baby monitor begin to fill the room with the wails of baby mia. she mutes the monitor so matt won't wake up. swinging her legs over the bed, she puts her slippers on and walks to the door to leave the room. entering the nursery, the cries only get louder. she goes to the crib and sees that her pacifier had fallen next to her small head.
"hi, baby. mommy's here." she whispers, she carefully picks her up in her arms and grabs the pacifier and tries to put it back in her mouth. mia takes it and y/n sighs in relief. she cradles her for a couple more seconds until she sees the babys face churn in discomfort, the pacifier coming out of her mouth and hitting the floor, cries fill the room again.
"oh no, let's get this cleaned up." she tries to stay calm and squats down to pick up the pacifier. before she heads down she places mia down on the changing table and undos the swaddle. "do you need a diaper change, is that it?" her shaky hands unclip the onesie and starts to take off the diaper.
cleaning her up and changing her into a new diaper, her cries don't stop. y/n feels a lump start to form in her throat and she blinks her tears away. "are you hungry, baby? let's get you a bottle." she puts her back in her arms and grabs the pacifier so she can clean it while she's downstairs.
y/n runs one of her frozen breast milk pouches under warm water and proceeds to pour it into a bottle once it's warm and melted, however with a crying baby in her left arm, and a shaky right hand, the bottle falls on its side and the pouch of milk slips from her grip. "shit." she curses and a tear slips down her face. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry." she tells the crying baby in her arm. grabbing a different frozen pouch she manages to pour all of it into the small bottle.
putting the nipple of the bottle into the babys mouth, she refuses and her cries get louder. y/n tries not more time and mia takes it for a couple of seconds and repeats what she previously did with the pacifier. y/n places the bottle down next to the spilled milk and cleans the pacifier before heading back up into the nursery.
she moves side to side patting the baby lightly on the bottom, trying to soothe her to sleep. "i- i don't know what you want." she whispers, looking down at the baby's blue eyes that resembles matt's so much. however, these pair of eyes are sad and leaking tears.
in their shared room, matt flips over and tries to put an arm around y/n. he feels the spot empty and cold, waking up and sitting up he begins to come conscious of his surroundings and hears the cries of his baby. his bare feet meet the cold wooden floor and he heads out the room into the nursery where he sees y/n wiping tears from her eyes and hears the wails of the baby.
"babe, what's going on?" his raspy voice says. y/n looks up and sees matt standing there. "she's- i don't- she won't stop crying, i don't know what she wants. i've- i've tried everything, she won't stop, matt." his heart aches at her quivering voice. "it's okay, let me have her." matt walks closer to his two girls and y/n hands mia to him.
once the baby is in matt's arms, her cries stop. this makes y/n's eyes well up even more. "hey, why don't you go to our room, i'll be there in a sec, okay?" he grabs her jaw and kisses her forehead. "o- okay." she nods. as bad as it sounds, matt wished that she hadn't stopped crying right away in his arms. he saw the way y/n's eyes welled up again. he wished it would've taken him some time to get the baby to calm down.
y/n remembers of the mess downstairs and heads down to the kitchen. wiping both the milk and her tears, she hears matt coming down the stairs and she turns around. "hey, is she- is she asleep?" she says, trying her best to smile. "yeah, here, i'll clean this up." matt grabs the napkins from her and he cleans it up. "is it okay if i go back up?" y/n asks.
"of course, i'll be right up." matt turns around and nods at her. matt waits a couple of minutes before going back upstairs so y/n can have a moment to herself.
"you okay?" matt says as he closes the third bedroom door. y/n places the baby monitor back down on her nightstand after unmuting it and turns around to matt's voice. "am i a good mom?" she blurts out and sits on the edge of the bed. "what? of course you are. you're the best. why do you ask?" he goes to sit next to her. "i feel like i'm not. i mean, mia doesn't even like me. she doesn't let me hold her whenever i just want to. i cant even put her to sleep when she wakes up. i- you put her straight to sleep by just carrying her, i can't do that." she cries into matt.
"y/n, baby, you're the best mom ever." matt says and she shakes her head. "matt, you're not listening to me, i can't- i'm- i'm not good enough. i don't have motherly instincts. i'm- i'm the worst."
matt shakes his head and gently grabs her face in his hands. "baby, believe me when i say this. you are the best mommy for mia. did you change her diaper just now?" he asks and she nods. "did you make her a bottle?" she nods. "did you give her, her pacifier?" she nods again. "did you go to her when you heard her crying?" she nods. "see, you do have motherly instincts, my love. nobody told you what to do, you just did it." he smiles at her. "please, believe me, babe."
"and, it's okay if we can't figure it out right away. we're first time parents, of course it's going to be hard. we're learning." her cries have now turned into sniffles. matt wipes away the last of her tears and kisses her nose, making her giggle lightly.
"feelin' better?" matt murmurs against her hair. they had moved from sitting on the edge of the bed to matt cuddling her, kissing her hair from time to time. "much better. thank you, babe. i- i think i have postpartum depression." she whispers the last part. "oh." he says. "i want to get help, i don't want to feel like this anymore. i want to enjoy these moment with her. she's not going to be this little for so long." she looks up at him.
"you get all the help you need. i'll be with you every step of the way, alright? me and mia will be right next to you." she smiles at his words and he presses a soft kiss to his lips. "thank you." there's a beat of silence until matt speaks. "please don't ever say that she won't be this little for so long. one moment she needs us to change her diaper and next thing you know, i'm walking her down the aisle." y/n gasps. "okay, let's not go that far. she's not even two months old yet."
"you're right."
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Online Meeting 🖥
Alexia Putellas x Reader
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warning : fluffy 💭💗
summary :
Alexia is in the middle of a major online interview when you accidentally walk into the room, having completely forgotten she was busy. Although the camera doesn’t catch you, Alexia’s reaction is caught live.
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Alexia was sitting at her desk, her laptop perfectly positioned as she adjusted her headphones one last time. The small study in your shared apartment had been transformed into her mini-interview set, with her Barça trophies and framed jerseys in the background, arranged neatly to give the interview the perfect backdrop. She was poised, as always, every inch the composed professional that everyone expected her to be.
You, on the other hand, had completely forgotten about the interview. It wasn’t until you were halfway through your third cup of coffee, humming to yourself as you cleaned the kitchen, that you realized something seemed… off. There was a lingering quietness that told you Alexia was probably busy. But by the time that thought even crossed your mind, it was already too late. With your usual casualness, you strolled down the hall, lost in your thoughts, and opened the door to the study without knocking.
Alexia had just finished answering a question about her career highlights when her eyes flicked up to meet yours as you stepped into the room. Her reaction was instant, her brown eyes widening slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across her features. Her hand shifted on the desk, almost as if she was trying to keep herself composed. But what gave it away was the tiny, amused smile that tugged at her lips. One she desperately tried to hide as she glanced quickly back at her screen.
You froze, mid-step, realizing your mistake. You had completely forgotten she was in the middle of the live interview, and now you’d just barged in like it was no big deal. Your face flushed instantly, and you mouthed a quick and apologetic, “Sorry!” before backing out of the room as quietly as you could manage.
The camera hadn’t caught you, thankfully, but Alexia’s reaction was all over the screen. Viewers couldn’t see you, but they could see her. And while Alexia was trying her hardest to stay focused on the interviewer’s next question, the damage had already been done. Her usually calm and composed demeanor had cracked, if only for a moment, and her fans weren’t going to miss it.
The next few minutes of the interview went on, but anyone watching could tell Alexia’s mind had wandered. She’d answer the questions with her usual grace, but there was a softness to her expression now, a slight curve to her lips that hadn’t been there before. And, occasionally, she’d glance off-camera for just a second, where she knew you were probably pacing the hall, silently cursing yourself for the interruption.
The interview wrapped up shortly after, and Alexia thanked the interviewer with her usual charm. But as soon as the call ended, she slid off her headphones and called out, “Cariño!”
You appeared in the doorway again, your face flushed, still embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing over. “I completely forgot! Did I ruin it?”
Alexia chuckled, leaning back in her chair and reaching for your hand to pull you into her lap. “You didn’t ruin anything"
You let a sigh of relief as you leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder. Alexia kissed your temple softly, clearly amused.
That was a lie, Alexia had noticed the subtle shift in the live chat during the interview. The influx of comments as soon as her reaction was caught on screen. You did definitely ruin the interview, but you didn't need to know or worry your pretty head about it.
*Did anyone else catch that?? Who walked into the room?!*
*OMG Alexia almost broke character. Who was it??*
*She’s so cute when she’s distracted. Someone made her smile, and I need to know who!*
*I've never seen Alexia react like that during an interview. What happened??*
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giannaln4 · 3 days
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I Missed You
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: You missed seeing Lando being happy after a race, and you couldn't wait to tell him how proud you were.  (1.4k words)
warnings: fluff, stablished relationship, a bit of mclaren slander
a/n: when i tell you i loved this idea SO SO much. i’m not too sure i’m happy with how this turned out but i really hope you guys enjoy it 🩷 i apologise for posting this just before the race but it was a bit hard to get started for some reason 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!
check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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The weekend in Monza was one you were hoping to forget. The tension in the air reflected not only in the team but also in the comments people were making about it, having even sports commentators and content creators question McLaren’s entire strategy to keep their fighting position in the WCC and also have a shot at the WDC. 
Lando’s demeanour immediately after getting off the car was something you would never forget, though, even if you tried. It was pretty obvious for everyone, even if he tried his hardest to never say something bad about his team and his teammate. That team was his home anyway. He had been with McLaren even before his F1 career started, and even after weekends like this one, he would never doubt he wanted to achieve great things with them.
That is probably what made it harder for him. This year they were competing not only for points and podiums but for something bigger, and after knowing what he is capable of, ending up in that position absolutely crushed him, and you hated to see him debating with himself. 
Once the weekend was finally over and you were leaving Italy, you wanted to make him feel better, telling him how great he was and how proud you were. You even shot some comments at McLaren for everything that went down, but he didn’t want to hear it; he barely wanted to talk about it, so you just dropped it. You understood him anyway, so you had to leave everything behind and just be supportive of your boyfriend.
You were hoping this weekend would be different, better, everyone was, and there was a lot of talking in the team that they would make the right decisions to keep fighting now that they had the chance. This, of course, would only mean something until they actually proved it during the race. 
Lando was in a better mood coming into this weekend; he trusted his team and he was confident they were backing him up. That was until the qualifying came. A yellow flag being pulled out by mistake during Q1 caused him to lose the opportunity to even put up a fight, and he ended up being P17. It wasn’t even his fault, but you knew he was beating himself up for that result. 
“Lando,” you called him right after he came back to the garage to watch the rest of the qualifying. He looked at you with a disappointed smile. “It’s not your fault, baby.”
“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, not wanting you to worry about him too much. “There’s nothing I could have done. We just have to wait and see what we can do tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you replied into his chest, rubbing small circles in his back to let him know you were there for him, no matter what. 
“We’ll see. The car felt okay, but it’s hard to overtake on this track. It’s quite a long straight.” He let out a nervous giggle as he pulled away; he didn’t sound as confident as you were hoping, but you knew he was right. “Some of it is just going to have to cross our fingers.”
There was no point in fighting him when he got like that, so you just nodded. “I’ll be crossing everything I have then.”
He went off with the rest of his team as you stayed back to watch the rest of the cars complete the qualifying. The air was starting to get tense again, and even though you knew everyone was nervous with Lando’s result, you weren’t sure if it was just your own feelings talking. But like Lando said, you were going to have to wait and see what the team could come up with, you were just hoping they would do the right thing.
Race day was finally here, and with Lewis starting from the pit lane due to a new power unit and Pierre being excluded due to fuel flow rate, Lando had been promoted to P15. Sure, it would have been better if Lando had the chance to fight for his starting position, but at least that was something. 
You could see he was still not completely confident in how the race would go, but you trusted enough for the both of you. 
Watching the race from the garage was something that always made you incredibly nervous, but especially in this position. But Lando managed to get to P12 by lap 2, and everyone was incredibly excited by his overtakes. 
As the race went on and he felt more confident with the car, he started to climb his way up to the top 10, trusting the team’s decisions with the strategy they were sticking to, and you were so glad everything was falling in place. 
The rest of the race still made you bite your nails at how nervous you were, but the bliss in the entire garage when he overtook someone was indescribable. He was driving the race of his life, and even the radios he exchanged with the team radiated that. As always, the last few laps were nervewracking, but the fact that he made it all the way to P6 and was even helping Oscar with his own race left everyone with a good taste. Not a complete terrible weekend after all. 
During the last lap, however, an unfortunate crash between Carlos and Checo pushed him to P4, meaning he gained 11 positions during the race; not that you ever doubted him, but seeing him end up there with the fastest lap after an absolute mess of the qualifying made you excited to see him. After confiming everyone was okay, you took the liberty to celebrate your boyfriend’s race.
Lando got out of the car and went to greet his team, cheers and smiles all over the place. Everyone was praising him for the incredible work he made, and his smile didn’t go away for a second the entire time. 
You knew you would still have to wait to congratulate him; he still had to do media before coming back to his room, where you were waiting for him, but seeing him so happy in the monitors made you grow impatient. 
It felt like it had been a while since you saw him so happy after a race.
After what felt like forever, you heard him come back to the garage. You stoop up from the small couch and opened the door, where you were greeded by your boyfriend. 
“Hey, you.” You said, closing the door behind him.
“Hi,” he replied, smile so big you could see his dimples.
“That was amazing, Lando. I knew you would do amazing, but I can’t even describe how proud I am.” 
He smiled even more at your words. He closed the distance between you when he took a few steps, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. You could even feel him smiling then, and that filled your heart.
“Thank you; it was a good day,” he said when he pulled away, looking down at you with loving eyes. “I think everything worked out.” You just nodded as you admired him.
“I missed you,” you whispered as you brushed a few curls that fell on his forehead.
“What do you mean? We’ve been together the last three weeks. You saw me just before the race." To say he was confused was an understatement, and you could see it in his face.
“I mean you, this. I missed seeing you so happy and smiley. Looks good on you.”
Lando was a bit embarrassed by your confession; he thought he did a better job at hiding how much the results affected him, at least to you. It was never his intention to be so down when he was with you, but man, was he endeared by your words. “I needed this,” was all he said, and you know he was right. And it wasn’t only him; you knew the team needed this as well.
“I know, and I know you hate to hear it, but I told you.”
He let out a laugh, not a nervous one this time. “Yes, you did,” he hugged you again, much tighter as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. “Thank you for being here and supporting me, even during my bad times.” He spoke with so much sincerity. 
“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
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lightaflaem · 2 days
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𝐩𝐨𝐯: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭.
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pairing: tattoo artist!suna x f!reader
genre: semi-angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive
word count: 5.1k
content warnings: profanities, suggestive themes, mentions of needles, sticks, poking, sharp objects, blood, mentions of abuse, scars, violence, trauma, addiction
summary: after countless attempts to convince your tattoo artist college friend, suna rintaro, to do your body art, you couldn’t understand why he keeps on rejecting you. not until he told and showed you the real reason why.
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“Is this the chair where your clients sit to get their tattoos done?” you asked, pointing at the leather chair in front of you.
“Yeah, where else do you think I got it done?” Suna answered, not removing his eyes from the patterned tape he’s been wrapping on the grip on the gun.
“So, when are you going to do mine?” you hopped on the leather material, arm resting on the extended side as you clean your antecubital area with your other free hand. It’s obviously not set for your height as you tried making yourself comfortable on the depthness of the chair.
“Very funny, Y/N. Now get off that chair and help me set these up. There's small sized gloves under the cabinet beside that chair, wear those before touching anything.” he ordered, not giving a single fuck about your question. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and started searching for the gloves in the compartment.
“Why won’t you do my tatts?”
“‘Cause you're my friend.”
“Seriously, Rintaro? You have favoritism.”
“Seriously, Y/N. I don’t have favoritism and I don’t do tatts for my friends because I already know them. My brain becomes a mush when it comes to thinking of designs when I already know the person.”
Your jaw dropped at his answer. You don’t buy it. Seriously, what the fuck is he playing with? Irked, you intentionally wore the pair of latex with much more force, making it slap against your wrist hard enough to leave marks. You placed a sterile mat on the stainless surface of the table, aligning the vaseline-coated small cups horizontally and started loading it up with black and red inks.
“You’d make a great apprentice.” he commented as he watched you do the preparations the same way he does it before every session. Each and every step was done with fragility, just like how you retained his routine by watching him do the same thing for the past few years of being with him.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to get a red tattoo,” you spoke as you continued filling the cups. “It’s sexy and I think I’ll look hot in it.”
“But you always look hot, with or without that red ink.” Suna said casually, making your heartbeat accelerate but you didn’t let it get into you because he probably said it to his clients most of the time.
“I know right. That’s why when my college friend became a tattoo artist, the force of getting it done doubled up. Specifically by him.” you know that you didn’t fail to emphasize how badly you wanted to get your body art done by him but maybe for him, he saw it as nothing but a mere compliment for his works.
Who would have thought that the quiet kid from one of your elective classes way back in college a few years ago who subsequently also became your close friend because of a mutual friend, the Miya twins, who were your classmates since you’re in elementary school, will become a famous tattoo artist specializing in line arts, minimalism, and patchworks.
Suna also probably never saw that his future will be like this. From just surviving everyday to a big time personality of inks and needles. With the freedom and peace he gained from following his calling, he also took a leap of faith to change his physical appearance from cropping his hair shorter, both arms, chest, and neck full of patchwork of random tattoos, and his signature snake bites that captivated the hearts of his crowd.
He never liked fame, though. He always hides whenever he’s got the chance to escape from paparazzi and respectfully declines the clients he doesn't want to work with and cannot work with. He's hard to get. That makes him more fascinating in the eyes of others. It’s like he’s hidden behind those inks and it will take thousands of needles to uncover. He’s surely one of a kind.
His skill in generating different designs specifically for each client is no joke. A lot of local and international artists and internet personalities are hitting up his instagram direct messages, asking for his details of booking. You vividly remember one of his interviews wherein he was asked if he ever recycled a design for different clients and what makes him unique from other tattoo artists. He answered“Each client has their own blueprint depending on their cup of tea. That’s what makes me unique from other artists. I created my own scheme and let it align on my client’s skin like it’s running out of breath and ink’s the only thing it needed to satisfy its hunger.”
He’s distinct. He’s consistent. He’s a genius.
But why the hell wouldn't he do your tattoo?
“You're an ink virgin, right? Why do you want to get your tattoo done by me so much?” With much curiosity, Suna leaned against the chair, arms crossing against his chest as his eyes squeezed, waiting to scrutinize your answer.
“Why not? It’s because it’s you.” you simply answered back, finally capping the bottle of ink. In your peripheral vision, you saw how Suna’s eyes dilated but still kept his unpleasant posture. “But if you don’t want to ink my body then it’s fine with me. I’ve been pestering you about it since you started and it’s been a few years. I’m not getting any younger, that's why I wanted to at least get my first tattoo before I turn 27.”
Taken aback by your statement, Suna stayed quiet for a few seconds. Finished with your extra lending hands with his set up, you threw the pair of gloves into the yellow trash bag and finally faced the 6 '1 guy. Suna’s lips were pursed before he licked the lower part, tasting the cold metal of his lip piercing.
“Where do you want to get your first tatts?” he questioned as his gaze started lingering on your bare skin.
“I don’t know, do you have a preferred part?” you threw back, not having a single clue on where you wanted to get your first one.
Removing himself from the chair, he took a step forward, slowly making his way towards you. You weren’t sure why but your feet felt like it was glued on the ground. The vision started to get blurry, almost feeling dizzy but you found your vision focusing more on Suna, who’s already in front of you with a small curve of smile written on his face.
“If you ask me where,” he lifted his hand, letting his delicate fingers glide from your shoulder up to your collarbone that sent shivers to your spine. “I prefer it to be somewhere where others can’t see it. Somewhere where I’m the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for me.” he smirked and pulled himself away from you. “Kidding. Your body, your rules.”
His touch left your skin yet you could still feel his cold fingertips against yours. You felt your breathing stopped as you held it the whole moment he was in front of you and whispered those words to you. Damn you, Suna. He surely knew how to shake your whole existence in a few words.
“I’ll be going away for three days. I’ll go to Tokyo to attend a tattoo convention.” he spoke, not letting his gaze wander to anywhere except you. “If you happen to finally be decisive about the placement before I get back, I’ll do your tatts. In exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” 
You grinned, finally hitting the jackpot. Bingo.
“Deal. I’ll see you in three days.” 
Suna let out a small chuckle when he saw how happy your eyes were. Silly, he thought. Who knew that a single tattoo could mean the world to a 25-year-old adult like you?
“Oh before I forget,” he suddenly remembered, turning to you once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll update for the next three days.”
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“Holy shit, Rintaro finally agreed to do yer tatts?!” Atsumu exclaimed, almost flipping the table.
“Shut your mouth, you’re spitting the best burger in Hyogo all over the place!” His twin brother, Osamu snarked at him.
Despite graduating from college and living your lives separately, one becoming a professional volleyball player for Japan, the other opening his own onigiri business, and you having your own clothing line, you couldn’t ignore the fact that the Miya twins literally have a special place in your heart. So here you are, sitting across them in a fast food chain with burgers and fries stuffed in your mouth as you continued catching up with each other’s lives after a few months of not seeing each other.
The twins know how much you wanted to get your first tattoo from Rintaro. Giving all their best shots and trying everything within their might, they still cannot lure their old mate into the trap. They were always shut down by Suna, especially Atsumu since he’s the one who’s been doing all of the talking and bargaining because apparently, he’s got a big mouth according to their fox-eyed friend.
They even went as far as recruiting the innocent Sakusa Kiyoomi, also one of their tattoo artist friends who recently opened his shop to blackmail Suna into inking your body; however, the latter just scoffed at their failed idea and told them to try harder again next time. With that, Atsumu shouldered Sakusa’s business permit expenses as a “payment” for pestering him.
“I mean, I’m also surprised, ‘yah know? It took me years to persuade him and now I just have to decide for the placement. But I would love to get it in red ink, though.” you shared your thoughts as you sipped from your diet cola.
“Did you already have a placement in your mind? Maybe your shoulders?” Osamu pointed at your exposed skin from wearing a tank top.
You just shrugged because honestly, you haven’t given it much thought yet. “I have an idea. But Rin told me that he prefers to do it somewhere exclusive only for him.” 
Atsumu bursted out, laughing his whole ass off that earned a few stares from the people around you. You and Osamu were puzzled, giving him a tyrannical look.
“Fucking hell, man. I am so proud,” he said between his laughs. “Rinrin has grown into a man! He’s got balls, Y/N! He finally got the dick, Samu!”
The rest of the night went well as you guys hit karaoke and arcade after dinner just like the old days. If it wasn’t for Atsumu’s official schedule the following day, the three of you plan to invite Suna for a drink because he’s finally returning back tonight from his 3-day tattoo convention in Tokyo. 
He kept his word on updating you. The very first thing that you saw when you opened your eyes on his first day in Tokyo was a ‘good morning’ text, followed by a mirror picture of him wearing a featured shirt from your summer collection. You blushed at the fact that he’s wearing your own creation even though he’s very supportive of it since the very start. He looked really good in your design.You told him that he doesn’t need to update you that much but his response was ‘Na uh. I’ll still update you so hurry up and think about where you wanted to get it, Ma’am.’. You knew that it was just a polite term yet, it’s enough to make your knees feel weak. But you were quick enough to shake the thoughts off, thinking that it’s just a friendly term to address his future client.
As the darkness engulfed the sky, the twins dropped you off in front of your apartment and bid them goodbye. It’s already 9 in the evening and you wonder if Suna’s already back in Hyogo because your message was left delivered and you haven’t received a single text from him since this afternoon.
As if on cue, your phone buzzed, flashing Suna’s contact photo on the screen.
Rintaro is calling…
“Yo.” you answered, unlocking the door of your unit.
“Ma’am? Did you just get home?” his raspy voice boomed on the other line of the phone. You never knew how much you longed for his presence, not until you heard his voice again for the first time in 3 days.
“Yup. We went to karaoke and arcade after dinner. We’re supposed to invite you for drinks but Tsumu’s got an official sched tomorrow.” you paused, kicking your shoe on the rack. “How about you? Did you just get home?”
“Yeah. Just got here and the first thing I did was to call you after fully charging my phone. It’s been dead since afternoon because I lost my charger. M’sorry for not messaging you.” you don’t know if you’re just a little bit tired from earlier but you could sense the hidden craving behind his voice.
“It’s okay, Rin. It’s no big deal,” you assured, as it was really not a big deal for you. “So, about the offer.”
You heard him clicking his tongue, followed by a soft chuckle. “Have you thought where you wanted to get your first ones, Ma’am?”
“Mhm. You wanna know where?” 
“Surprise me.”
It made you giggle like a highschool kid talking to her crush for the first time. Suna is really good with his words. On the other line, Suna was leaning his head against his black bed frame, unintentionally scratching his bare chest as he’s not used to wearing a top inside his house and saw it. He took a deep breath before biting his lower lip to surpass the fact that he’s thrilled with the thought of him finally marking your skin.
“Where do you want to get it done? It can be in my studio but I can also do home service, exclusive only for you.”
“I want to get it done in the studio. I wanted to experience sitting in your leather chair as a client, Sir.”
Damn. Something ignited inside Suna when he heard you calling Sir, right back when he started calling you Ma’am. It’s like a switch being flipped on. Composing his mind and shaking any thoughts, he nodded as if you’re seeing him right now.
“Alright then. We’ll start tomorrow at nine in the morning. Make sure to get enough sleep, eat breakfast and drink water. I’ll brief you tomorrow once we’re there, Ma’am. Remember that in exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” he reminded, knowing that you don’t like going to bed early.
“Wow, your customer service is top tier.” you commended as your mind started intensifying with the thought of finally doing it tomorrow.
“Exclusive only for you, Ma’am.” he reminded once again, trying to hint you up.
“Okay, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you. Good night, Y/N.”
Fuck. It’s not the first time Suna has said that to you but your insides are rumbling. You felt your blood rushing as your vital organ increased the pumping because anytime now, you could feel suffocated from the excitement. Calm down. Calm down.
“Good night, Rin.”
With that, he let you hang up the call. Later that night, you tried your best to get a good night's sleep yet in your fantasy, you still feel like you’re sleep calling with Suna. You couldn’t take your mind off with his words earlier. He’s going to tell and show you something? Still trying to squeeze every cell of your brain, you cannot pulp any idea on what it’s going to be.
You just hope it’s nothing serious because it’s actually scary, the thought of him being dead serious on something. You shrugged off any negative thoughts and wished that it's nothing because you wouldn’t be able to grasp if it’s going to significantly impact your life in a pessimistic way. You might lose your shit because you know that you’re clearly, madly, deeply attached to Suna Rintaro.
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“So this is how it feels like to sit right here.” you spoke with awe as you comfortably aligned yourself with the chair’s depth. It was adjusted perfectly for your height.
Suna grinned, setting up the materials on the stainless table beside you. You offered to help but he quickly declined it, reasoning that you’re here as a client today, not as his self-labeled apprentice.
Despite being here lots of time already, it felt like this was the first time you’ve seen his studio. The details you didn’t notice before suddenly popped in your vision, such as the fern green wallpaper and plants that he’s been watering regularly. On the outside, it looks like Suna’s more of a monochrome guy but in reality, he adores green so much because according to him, it brings the dull color into life. For him, it feels like life.
You also noticed the usual well-lit led ceiling lights wrapped around the four corners of his studio are now dimly-lit as well as the aroma of lavender mint from his scented candles that he ignited for the first time since he got it lingering probably to cover up the smell of blood, dead skin, and ink. Oh, and there’s also an inspired portrait of his favorite characters from his favorite movies drawn in his own artstyle framed and hung on the walls. His usual arctic monkeys and heavy metal playlist was replaced with some 88rising, r&b, and keshi which are you favorite artists and genre at the moment,
You never took your time to appreciate Suna’s studio this much until now. 
“Okay Ma’am, show me where you wanted it to be placed.” he asked, almost ordering you. Taking a deep inhale, you were surely nervous as heck right now but you already made your mind. Somewhere where he’s the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for him, huh?
You slowly lifted your white shirt, revealing your red lace bralette that perfectly hugged your breasts. You specifically chose this outfit for this occasion. Swallowing a lump, you pointed at your waist up to the side of your right boob, passing it and nearly up to your armpit. “Here. I wanted to get it here.”
Suna was quiet the whole time yet his widened foxy eyes tell you otherwise. He’s speechless. His eyes were fixated on you, admiring the view which he saw for the first time. He knows that you’re sexy and elegant, but he didn’t expect that you’re this sexy. In his eyes, you are the most beautiful art he’s ever seen in his whole life. He fought the urge to hold you in your waist because he wanted to feel your skin against his.
“Tough spot. Damn Ma’am, you’re courageous.” he commented on your preference. You felt your cheeks heating up as embarrassment started creeping in because Suna hasn’t removed his gaze yet on your body. “Can I…touch it? I’ll just…assess it.”
You nodded, pressing your lips together as Suna’s gloved hand made its way to your body. He traced your torso up to your ribcage and he couldn’t help but to squeeze a small smile in between.
“Will it hurt?” you hesitantly asked.
“It will. But I’ll be gentle, I promise.” you almost choked on his answer because it gave you other ideas. “Now make yourself comfortable. Tell me if it hurts, we’ll take a break. I’ll do my best to make it painless but I cannot guarantee.”
You fixed your position on the inclined chair, making yourself at home on your left side but your torso was slightly flattened down, facing him to get a better access to the area, especially your sides up to your armpit. Suna sat down in the swivel stool and faced you from your left, maintaining his demeanor as he grabbed the stencil he prepared. You intentionally didn’t ask about the design he planned because you also wanted to surprise yourself with Suna's creativity. You wanted to astonish yourself and it pretty much tells how big your trust is when it comes to Suna.
Once he’s done with shaving the excess hair, the paper hits your side, tickling your skin as Suna’s gloved hand starts flattening it against your body. It was followed by the cold sensation of the adhesive washing the paper. His right pinky accidentally brushed against your boob, making you scream internally. In no time, he’s already removing the piece of paper, indicating that the stencil’s already in place.
Suna licked his lower lip and you noticed how he wore his usual snake bites differently today by swapping the horseshoe jewelry into a plain one. He pushed himself forward but still maintained the distance between the two of you. Reaching out for the tattoo gun, you’ve already had an idea how it sounded but when he tested it and made a whirring sound that buzzed on your ears, you found yourself clutching the hem of Suna’s shirt due to the tense building up inside your stomach.
“You alright, Y/N?” he asked, staring down at you. The whole point of view sent you to spiral as you never imagined yourself being under Suna.
“Yeah, sorry. I hope you don’t mind this.” you pointed at your hands curled into his shirt which earned him a few laughs. Suna thought that it was so fucking cute when look so small to him.
“You’re free to hold me wherever.” he smiled, caressing your exposed shoulder as a sign of assurance. “Remember that if it hurts too much, just tap out and we can take a break, Ma’am.”
Bobbing your head, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath as the sound of the gun reverberated once again. Suna started poking the needle against your skin. The first five minutes were much more uncomfortable rather than painful - almost feeling like a slow rug burn. However, as he moved upwards and started hitting the bones of your side ribs, it started feeling hell that you couldn’t help but small whimpers escaped from your mouth. It stings like crazy.
“Are you okay? We can take a break. Do you want some water?” Suna offered concern as he saw your forehead creased into an agonizing expression.
“N-no, just continue. I’ll eventually get used to it.” you declared, not wanting to raise your white flag.
Suna nodded and started working on it again. You could feel like he’s outlining something in more of a swivel way. You could also feel like there’s a lot of lines and shading going on. The next 30 minutes were spent with the two of you talking about college, reminiscing the memories you shared together as well as with the Miya twins. Another 30 minutes and he’s already wrapping up by taking one last wipe before applying the tattoo jelly on the area. 
“I thought that it will be painful as fuck,” you said truthfully. “You wrecked my expectations, Rin.” 
“Well, it’s an honor to be complimented by you. I told you, I’ll be gentle.” he winked, removing his gloves on his hands. “Congratulations, Y/N. You’re no longer a tattoo virgin.”
Laughters echoed in the room as he clapped at your achievement. He grabbed the mirror that was lying beside your chair and signaled you to sit up. Obeying him, you lifted yourself as you felt your skin being stretched.
“I hope you like my design, Y/N.” flipping the mirror, you saw your inked skin for the first time.
Your mouth parted, eyes filled with wonderstruck. 
There’s a lot of fine lines from the upper part of your side, down to your ribs, and finally your waist. The lines were broken yet some of them were connected with each other. In the middle, there’s multiple flowers drawn in outline, looking like they have bloomed together. You couldn’t elucidate the design in words yet your brain could tell how it looks and your heart could tell how it feels like to be inked distinctively.
You finally understood why they call Suna a genius. Because he’s the only one who has the ability to make you feel like you're abstract and he’s the only one who can understand you.
“Do you like it?” he asked, a little bit nervous as you stayed silent.
“Like?” you questioned. “I fucking love it, Rintarou. I love it so much that it made me speechless… Thank you. Wow…Seriously, thank you.”
You’re not kidding. You’re not exaggerating. You were at a loss for words because only the silence of appreciation could speak for right now on how you feel about the design.
Pleased, a genuine smile carved on Suna’s lips as he watched you beaming with joy on your first body art done by none other than him.
“Now in exchange, I want you to pop my shirt.” he cleared his throat, bringing the mirror down as he signaled you.. Your face was puzzled. Pop…his shirt? “Come here, Y/N. Take off my shirt.”
You were hesitant at first but you gradually moved towards him and lifted his shirt out of his body. You have never seen him shirtless before because as far as you know, it makes him uncomfortable to show some skin to others before that’s why you never saw him wearing sleeveless before. And now he’s asking you to pop his shirt for what reason?
Pulling the fabric above, Suna’s exposed skin was hit with the cool air. You gasped when you saw multiple scars across the chest and lower body. Some of them formed multiple layers above each other, making the skin rise from its base. He doesn’t have any tattoo in his lower body but he has one in his chest, near his heart. And it was…shit. Could it be…?
“You see, Y/N, I never really talked about this before but my dad used to uh, beat me up with a socket wrench when I was a child,” he spoke, voice filled with coldness. “He’s an addict and whenever he doesn’t have the money to support his damn addiction, he’ll find another way to release his stress and that is to beat me up whenever he’s got the fucking chance.”
You felt like all the nerves in your body were paralyzed as your eyes slowly widened, sinking his words inside your head. He’s dad is what? Beating him? With a socket wrench? Fuck.
“I thought I wouldn’t be able to reach college, ya know? That’s why when I was given the privilege to still continue my education, I didn’t let it go to waste as I thought that it was the only way to escape from the madness of my life.” his fingers brushed against his scars. It was healed, probably years ago yet you could visibly see the paint being painted on his face as he felt the trace of his yesterday.
“And suddenly, all of this turned all the way around when I became friends with the twins and you.” he lifted his gaze, maintaining his eye contact with you. Something ignited inside Suna when he met your orbs. He felt like colors bursted in his eyes. “When my dad finally got the help he needed and I made peace with whatever demons I have, that’s when I felt like I had another chance with life. That’s why when I started taking interest in inking, I took it very seriously because for the first time, I saw that I finally saw that I got the chance to stand in life. To live, not just to survive.”
The sincere confession made a short pang inside your heart. All this time, he was hurting. All the damn time, he’s living his life in hell. And being friends with him, just being by his side, made him realize that he can finally free himself from the uncanny of his life.
“The reason why I keep on rejecting your request is because I am not ready yet. Y/N, I spent my whole career crafting the most unique design I could ever create for you. Just for you. I wanted to make it the best among the rest. Also, as cheesy as it may sound, I wanted to be the man worthy of inking your very first tattoo.”
You felt like your heart’s going feral inside your ribcage. Suna stood up in front of you, bare bodies touching each other. You could feel his minty hot breath tickling your nose despite the coldness of the room. Slowly, he grabbed both of your hands and intertwined your fingers together before bringing it in front of you to plant a soft kiss on it.
“I’m sorry that it took me this much time to be worthy of everything. Thank you for not giving up on me. You may notice the lines in your tattoos, it represents the thought of despite being broken, you could still find your way back and bloom within it. Y/N, you gave me that reason to bloom again at my own pace.”
He dragged your hands in his chest, making you feel the only tattoo he has on his upper body. “Y/N, this is your initials. This was my very first tattoo and I intentionally got it in my heart so that whenever I hold my heart, I’ll always remember that you’re here.”
Suna’s eyes glimmered, mirroring yours as you could feel him getting more emotional any second. Giving up, you stood on your toes, enclosing the centimeters given between the two of you by latching your lips to his. Without giving it a second thought, Suna pulled you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It was a hot, wet kiss that the two of you shared as tears started tearing down in your cheeks. When Suna tasted the salty liquid, he finally let his guard down and cried himself between the sloppy kiss.
Pulling away, both of you were panting as your cheeks were stained with the liquid that you shared. You let out a chuckle and pulled him into a tight hug which he gladly returned.
“You’re never late, Suna. You will always be the tattoo artist that captivated my heart, no matter what and no matter how long it takes. I’ll always wait for your creations, and I’ll kiss every one of your flaws until you realize you’re love.”
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© lightaflaem. do not repost on any platform.
bonus
y/n's "exclusive" tattoo made it to suna's instagram :]
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obsessedbtch · 3 days
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𝟐 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬, 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝟏 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.
hopkins! p. bueckers x fem!reader
summary: she can’t let you read her, she is so difficult to understand, you are tired of crying because of her.
warnings: angst!! paige doesn’t know what she wants.
note: kinda short, trying to make my writing more smooth and understandable
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“sometimes it’s better to close the window no matter how beautiful the view is.”
scanning once again the notes you toke from spanish class, the blue ink keeping company to the paper and the little sticky notes spread around this one. in a few days you had an exam, being the paranoid person you are, wanting anything more than a perfect score made you study everything you have been seeing since day one, finals were around the corner. you decided to study all the way to north carolina. wanting an excellent grade wasn’t the only thing disturbing your mind, a certain basketball player was also bothering you, maybe that’s why you couldn’t make the information stick in your brain.
it bothered you, it bothered that you couldn’t understand her, you tried, but she was so difficult to read, she refused to open up to you, even though you have been dating for quite a while, maybe it wasn’t even dating, it felt like you were just fuck buddies, a shoulder to cry on, a friend.
some times she couldn’t keep her hands to herself, her hands being glue and your skin being paper, it was difficult to take off once glued together. other times, she wouldn’t even take a glance at your direction, making a conversation with everyone except you, it made your eyes itch with tears and your throat tightened.
the only ones to observe they way you will agonize for her, was the brightens of the moon and the stars, highlighting beautifully the black sky when it came dark, looking down on you laying on your backyard while your parents where gone, you thought that your pillow was sick of having to absorb your salty tears.
some how, the itchiness of the green grass beneath you, the full round moon, with small white dots shining around her, brought you comfort, when the cold was to much to handle and it felt like a rough breeze surrounding the nude of your arms and legs, it filled the noticeable hole in you heart, filling it up with comfort, the one you desired so bad.
you have a bad habit, a terrible one. is it really that bad wanting, desiring something so bad? it truly is if its making you feel all kinds of ways, but not the ways that made you feel loved, or make your breath shaky and unstable when your heart started to speed up.
you could write about her to the point of suffocating, not thinking the right words to describe her, staring at her was like looking a blank paper, you don’t know what do with it until they gave you instructions, you don’t understand why is it blank, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t express anything, it’s so difficult to understand.
“i cried while writing about you in my diary.”
you couldn’t stop writing about her.
it was so late, you couldn’t bother taking a look at the clock.
the sound of little rock’s hitting constantly on your window was something to familiar, you knew that perfect aim to well, it made you write even more faster, not taking note about how awful your writing became the more you write about her, it was so noticeable, the words coming from the bottom of your heart and the cold tears threatening to came out like water falls from your eyes once you blink, it made your eyes even more watery and burn from not blinking, not wanting to ruin your perfectly done homework.
finally giving up, fixing your posture, you allowed your back to take a break while still hearing the rocks hitting on your window, taking it like a background sound, but it made you feel frustrated.
as consequence of relaxing, the tears that pilled up in your eyes came out like just like you expected, without writing anything and not being concentrated in anything, it made the sound of the rocks grow louder.
standing up from the chair, making aside the thoughts of the person hitting your window was paige.
opening the curtains not being welcomed with the shining sun of the early morning, instead, it was the sight that gave you comfort, that dried your coldly salt tears with the breeze making your once warm pinkish cheeks sticky.
but this time it didn’t bring comfort.
it made your heart explode.
the view was so beautiful, the stars filling the darkness not leaving any blank space behind, the moon, today it was a third quarter.
you stared at her, trying not to show any emotion, just like she did when you tried to talk to her, it was like you switched roles, she had a agonizing stare it almost made you cry.
she looked up to you, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out, she didn’t know what to say, the words kept getting stuck on the bottom of her throat.
your hands made their way to your wide open glass window, you needed to close the window, right now or you wouldn’t be responsible for your actions, but it was such an amazing view.
the sound of your windows crashing because of the sudden collision made your walls shake, the sound making you shut your eyes tightly, afraid that if you opened them again you would run into her arms, only opening them again once you closed your curtains.
written by coeur!! byeeee
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fandoms-x-reader · 20 hours
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Sensitive! MC
Requested By: @fairwish
Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064
This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3
Based on Lesson 6-15
You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.
You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.
You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.
And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.
They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.
They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.
In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.
You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.
But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.
-
You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.
You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.
“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.
“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.
“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 
“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed
You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.
“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.
“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.
You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.
“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.
That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.
“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.
“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.
“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.
“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.
Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 
You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.
They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.
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Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.
He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.
He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.
After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.
He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.
Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.
It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 
He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.
He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.
But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.
It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.
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After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.
Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.
He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.
So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.
When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.
He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.
But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.
The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.
But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.
He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.
He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.
Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.
“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.
Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.
He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.
So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.
Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.
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Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.
He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.
But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.
The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.
And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.
Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst
On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.
His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.
When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.
He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.
Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.
Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 
But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.
He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.
Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.
And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.
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Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.
For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.
He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.
For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 
In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.
But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.
He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.
He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.
He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.
You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 
Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.
“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.
“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity
“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.
Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.
He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.
“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.
It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.
Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.
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Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.
As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?
He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.
He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.
But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 
And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.
He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.
His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.
When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.
He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.
You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 
You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.
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“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.
Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.
You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.
You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.
He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.
In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.
More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.
And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.
Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.
Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.
He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.
You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.
He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.
And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.
Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.
He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.
As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.
He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.
When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.
Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.
In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”
You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.
“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.
He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.
“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 
“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.
His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.
You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.
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hii I don’t know if you are doing requests but if you are could you please do one with toto Wolff x wife reader where she’s just given birth and her in-laws make fun of her or give her mean comments and she gets all upset but doesn’t tell toto to keep the family peace but he finds out and gets a tad upset at her for hiding it but he rips his family a new one please please!!
Unconditional Support
Word Count: 999
Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader
Summary: Y/n shares her vulnerability after giving birth, revealing the hurtful comments from Toto's family that make her question her worth, prompting Toto to confront them with fierce protectiveness
I don't speak Polish so if something isn't right pleas let me know so i can change it.
Also my requests are still open
______________________________________________________________
Toto stood at the window, the hospital room filled with a serene quiet. You rocked the baby gently in your arms, trying to focus on the peaceful moment, but your mind kept drifting back to the things his family had said. Every comment felt like a dagger, cutting deeper than you’d let yourself admit. You’d spent so much time second-guessing your own reactions, wondering if you were being too sensitive—just like your ex-friends and ex-boyfriend had always claimed.
But this felt different. You had just given birth. You were vulnerable, exposed, and instead of support, all you got was veiled judgment.
Toto turned around, sensing your unease. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You’re not yourself."
You tried to smile, to push it down, but the weight of it all was pressing on you too hard. "I don’t know," you whispered. "I don’t want to make it a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I’m just being sensitive."
Toto frowned, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. "Sensitive about what?"
You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But the memory of Eva’s voice, sharp and critical, wouldn’t leave your mind.
"Your mom…" you started slowly, "she said, *‘Ach, du siehst müde aus’* (Oh, you look tired), and I know I *am* tired, but the way she said it—it wasn’t just concern. It was like I was already failing somehow. Like I should be doing more, looking better. I’ve just had a baby, and instead of asking how I feel, she’s telling me I look bad."
Toto’s jaw clenched, but you continued, the words pouring out now.
"And then Katharina, she didn’t even say congratulations before she looked me up and down and said, *‘You’ll want to lose the baby weight quickly, right? There’s a Pilates instructor in Vienna…’* I know I’ve gained weight—of course I have, I just carried a child—but she made me feel like it’s a race to get rid of it. Like my worth is tied to how fast I look ‘normal’ again."
Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. "And Margit—she took the baby right out of my hands and said, *‘Das ist nicht richtig. Soll ich es dir zeigen?’* (That’s not right. Should I show you?) I was trying my best, and she acted like I didn’t even know how to hold my own baby. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and she just made me feel… useless."
Toto stood up, his face dark with anger. He started pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Why did you let them say those things to you?"
"I didn’t want to cause problems," you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought… maybe I was just seeing it wrong, like I always do. Maybe I was interpreting everything too negatively again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize… it wasn’t okay. They made me feel small. Like I wasn’t good enough."
Toto stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "You were right. They were out of line. I’m not letting this slide."
Before you could stop him, he grabbed his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he found his mother’s number.
"Toto, wait," you pleaded, "don’t make this worse—"
But his face was set, determined. He brought the phone to his ear, speaking in rapid Polish as soon as his mother picked up. "Mamo, musimy porozmawiać." (Mom, we need to talk.)
You could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice on the other end, but Toto’s expression didn’t soften.
"Nie, nie później. Teraz." (No, not later. Now.)
He glanced at you, his eyes blazing with a protective fury. "Dlaczego mówili takie rzeczy do Y/n?" (Why did they say those things to Y/n?) His voice was cold, demanding answers.
You watched, feeling torn between relief and anxiety as Toto continued to tear into his mother over the phone. You couldn’t understand everything, but the tone was unmistakable—he was furious, and he wasn’t going to let this slide. He paced back and forth, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke in quick bursts of Polish, likely recounting every hurtful comment you had shared with him.
After a few moments, his voice softened slightly, but his anger was still clear. "Nie obchodzi mnie, czy miały dobre intencje. Nie pozwolę, żeby tak traktowali moją żonę." (I don’t care if they meant well. I won’t let them treat my wife like that.)
He paused, listening to his mother’s response, before he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "To musi się skończyć. Teraz." (This has to stop. Now.)
He hung up the phone, his face still tense, and turned back to you. "I’ve told them," he said, his voice softer now but still firm. "They won’t be speaking to you like that again."
You looked down, guilt flooding through you. "I didn’t mean for this to turn into a big thing…"
Toto knelt beside the bed, taking your hand in his. "It’s not your fault. They were out of line, and you deserve better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner."
You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just didn’t want to cause problems. I was so scared I was overreacting."
Toto cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You’re not overreacting. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re my wife, the mother of our child, and no one gets to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are. Not even my family."
You let out a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of their comments lift just a little. You had doubted yourself, but Toto was making sure you’d never have to doubt him.
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luvhughes43 · 20 hours
Text
BOYFRIEND | quinn hughes
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[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]
based off the song boyfriend by ariana grande
summary: every summer without fail you and quinn fall back into old habits... you two aren't official but the feelings are there.
word count: 3.4k
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i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck i don't wanna be too much but i don't wanna miss your touch and you don't seem to give a fuck
all of your life you had four loves. there was shitty reality television, your home state-michigan, your summers at your familys lake house, and then there was quinn hughes.
you had always loved him even if you hadn't recognized it yourself. back then, both of your parents would make little comments about how they're going to end up together one day! but when you stayed in michigan and quinn moved to vancouver everything changed.
when quinn left school to pursue hockey you assumed that your friends with benefits situation would fizzle out. but it hadn't. and so youre left wanting as you watch the brunet boy trapeze around his backyard - greeting boys he'd seen countless times over the hockey season while you were stuck at school.
when you finally do catch this eye, he waltz over with a shit-eating grin. "hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he teases, pulling you under his impressive arm. you stumble into his side with practice ease and quinn tilts his head to look down your solo cup. "the fuck is that?"
you hold the cup over your head to where you assumed his lips would be, "i dont know jack made it - 'could be anything,"
quinn reaches for the cup and takes a measured sip. "that'll kill you," he winces, spilling the cups contents on the grass and tossing the cup along with it.
you sigh, peeved. quinn did this thing where he assumes he knows what's best. "i was actually drinking that,"
"yeah, yeah, i'll get you something else," he says distractedly as someone from across the yard flags him down.
just as quinns about to leave again you grab his arm and pull him back to you. even though you're embarrassed to ask you lower your voice and whisper, "when am i going to see you again?"
quinn pauses. "like, are we gonna..."
you remain silent, not wanting to say what you truly want. it was easier to hint at your forays instead of being honest about things. "i'll catch up with you tonight, promise" he kisses the underside of your wrist before shouting playfully to someone in the distance.
i don't wanna keep you waiting but i do just what i have to do and i might not be the one for you but you ain't about to have no boo
an hour later you wander inside the boy's house to grab yourself a refill. there was still no sign of quinn - and so you decide to unwind a little bit before the night truly got underway. every year the guys would host a party to reign in the end of the season. guys from across the country would travel and spend a week in michigan celebrating with packs of zyns, cases of beer, and endless rounds of golf.
"zyn?" trevor zegras says as he holds out a small white pouch towards you. you shake your head no and trevor shoves the circular box back into his short pockets.
"i heard he's single," a girl to your left whispers loudly to a group of her friends. trevors head turns instinctively,but you pay the group of girls no attention.
"ten bucks they're talking about me," trevor leans down and whispers.
"twenty bucks they're not," you announce back and then the two of you messily shake on it. you probably shouldn't have gone to jack for a refill on his concoction but quinn was taking too long so...
"well quinns hot so if he is single, i'll try it," you're not sure what it was exactly but your face heats up regardless. beside you, trevor groans and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket.
youre pretty sure he tries to hand you a wad of crumpled up ones but you were no longer paying attention to trevor or your bets. instead, your focus shifted to a gorgeous blonde hyping herself up to go and talk to your best friend.
'cause I know we be so complicated but we be so smitten, it's crazy i can't have what I want, but neither can you
"alright... i know they're wrinkled but cash is legal tender..." trevor trails off obnoxiously and thus you grab hold of his ten dollars clenching your fist.
"i'll see you later?" you call out distractedly, solely focused on the blonde approaching quinn across the room.
you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody
it was wrong to use others for personal gain but you were sure there had to be an exception for making somebody jealous. plus, it wasn't like quinn was a saint either.
you vividly remember how quinn chatted up some girl in your class two years ago at a frat party. it was a shitty thing to do, considering how much you complained about that particular girls work ethic after she left you hanging on a group project.
the next morning, quinn had stopped by your apartment to apologize with a bouquet of peonies in hand. you had reluctantly forgiven him, but because the two of you weren't exactly exclusive the fight dissolved on your tongue before you could even properly fight about it.
"hey baby," you tease all your syllables - making sure the baby really rings out in tune. quinns smile doesn't falter at your emergence, instead, he grins as his attention turns from the blonde and onto you.
"y/n," he glances between you and the new girl. you'd have to work for his attention a little more than you'd like to tonight. "as i was saying..." quinn resumes his conversation with the girl slowly, trying his hardest to piss you off.
a tuft of dark black hair peeks it's way through your peripheral and your head immediately turns to find alex turcotte standing alone a few feet away. "turcs!" you call out in the same teasing tone you'd used on quinn and alexs attention is immediately focused on you.
"baby!" he yells jovially, and you could not have planned something better yourself. baby, was a nickname assigned to you after a particular summer in which you were obsessed with dirty dancing. you had pranced around the house to its soundtrack and forced anybody who was around to dance with you - all embarrassingly bad imitations of patrick swayze.
you dont turn to acknowledge quinns reaction but you imagine it as you sway your way over to alex. quinns face would be scrunched up in annoyance, and his eyes would darken just a tad to accompany his scowl. if there was one thing quinn hated more than he liked teasing you, it was you teasing him back.
"so strong!" you laugh loudly, gripping onto alex's arm. his hand brushes across your lower back and you smile brightly when he leaves it resting there.
"you really know how to work a guy, huh?" he laughs before removing his hand altogether. "what are you drinking?" he asks then, shifting tones dramatically from flirtatious to friends-since-childhood.
"i don't know jack made it," you hold the cup up to his face and he recoils with a scuff.
"you're going to be so sick tomorrow,"
you take a sip of your drink before glancing back in quinns direction. his dark eyes were still trained on you but the blonde was still at his side. flirting with alex was truly petty. both you and quinn knew nothing would ever come of it but it was still fun to get him riled up anyway.
but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody
"want to get me something else?" you ask with a soft voice and you hope it carries to where quinns standing.
alex looks at you momentarily before shaking his head quickly. "uh, yeah, yeah let's go to the kitchen..." you take the lead in your venture to the kitchen and alex slinks his arm around your waist.
you barely make it out of the living room before quinn interrupts your path. "hey man, its been awhile," his smile is strained as he reaches a hand out to alex. the two greet each other and the flashes of disappointment on quinns face is evident when alex doesnt take his arm away from your body.
"where ya two heading?" he asks.
alex hits his solo cup against yours and a slosh of molten liquid rolls over the rim of your cup and onto your new white shoes. "this one needs a new drink. jack made her another one his his "concoctions,"" alex laughs easily but quinns face is entirely tense.
you stay silent.
"oh, i can take her," quinn says with a slight edge.
"it's no worries i can do it," alex assures him with a small smile. "i think jacks in the kitchen and i wanna say hello," he adds when quinn makes no move to back down.
"uh, i just saw him go outside actually," quinn states and you wonder if you should interrupt.
the two boys stare at each other tensely and alex drops his hand from your waist. "i'll see you later baby?" alex mutters lowly, and your head spins from whatever moment you just missed right there.
you nod dismissively to alex and watch in silence as he rapidly walks out of the living room. "what was that for?" you ask quinn as soon as you turn to face him. as expected, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his face show small signs of annoyance.
"you need a drink," is all quinn responds with, and you follow behind him slowly as he maneuvers his way through small crowds of people.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
your vodka cranberry was slowly spilling its contents onto quinns hardwood floor as it lay discarded.
"your floors getting all wet," you mumble against quinns lips the second the two of you pull apart. his hair was messy and his cheeks flush when he notices you staring.
"dont care," he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his own. "'been too long sine i've seen you last,"
you kiss his neck teasingly, "the wood will get ruined,"
quinn sighs and pulls away from you. he strips his shirt off and lets it fall atop your discarded solo cup. his confidence was something that had grown over the years and you were pleasantly delighted.
"thank you," you whisper to him as he slides his arms back against you. you wait for him to say something - mention what happened downstairs but quinn remains silent.
instead, he leads you backwards to his bed with well practiced ease. the games you two play were fun when they ended up like this, but at the same time you felt a twinge for something more.
even though you ain't mine, i promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love 'cause baby, when push comes to shove damn baby, i'm a train wreck, too (too) i lose my mind when it comes to you i take time with the ones I choose and I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah
the sun streams through quinns open curtains, blinding him momentarily as his eyes adjust to the morning light. when everything comes into focus the first thing he notices is your figure curled up on the other side of his bed like a cat. quinn stretches and despite the brief disturbance your eyes stay firmly closed.
downstairs the house was a mess. empty bottles and cups littered the wood floors and empty food wrappers crinkle uncomfortably under quinns tired feet.
"morning," jack says as soon as his older brother steps into the dimly lit kitchen. jacks sandy hair is tousled and if his undereye bags were any indication of how he was feeling... it was clear that he was unwell.
"you look like shit," quinn chuckles as he tosses jack a bottle of aspirin.
"gee, thanks." jack rolls his eyes but pops a pill nonetheless.
quinn fixes himself some toast and the two brothers sit in comfortable silence.
"where's yn," jack asks, nursing a yellow gatorade.
"sleeping,"
jack hums in acknowledgement. he stares inquisitively at his brother - silently hinting at what's going on between the blurred lines of quinns and yns relationship, but quinn ignores him.
i know we be so complicated lovin' you sometime drive me crazy 'cause i can't have what I want and neither can you
late the next afternoon after tirelessly scrubbing down the floors and tossing out empty cans, the group of hockey players and friends make their way onto the lake.
as always, quinn drives and docks the boat in the middle of the lake so the group could swim and yn could suntan on the hard, white seats of the boat.
quinn wasnt an idiot. he knew that his best friend was hot. the stolen glances and not-so-subtle double takes weren't lost on him as his friends ogled her. she was undeniably gorgeous and someday their relationship wouldn't be enough anymore. she would eventually want more, and quinn wasn't sure he'd be able to give her a relationship she deserved from two thousand miles away.
you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and i don't want you to see nobody
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yourusername daydreamin' 🧸
"what's the deal with yn and quinn anyway? have they always been so... intense?" alexander holtz asks between shooting pool.
jack sighs, "yeah theyre always like that. i wish they'd just get over whatever they've got going on and get together already. its honestly painful to watch," jack jokes tensely.
alex tuts, "i wish she were available"
another guy hums, "she's a total smoke show,"
"ew, shes like our sister," luke pipes up.
"your sister maybe," someone laughs. "she ain't mine,"
quinn silently turns away from the rec room to find you.
but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody
"hey," you smile sweetly at quinns presence. he stares at you simply before sitting down on the decksteps next to you. he frowns when you set your book down beside you and you press your knee to his in an attempt to calm him. "what's wrong?"
quinn sighs deeply. "i just - i dont know. what are we doing?"
"what do you mean?" you ask even though you know where this conversation is heading.
quinn gestures between the two of you, "we've... things are different now,"
"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, genuinely taken off guard. "if this is about the party...?"
"we'd be an awful couple," quinn cuts in.
"who called us a couple?,"
"look, you're going to want more eventually and-"
you scoff. "are you going to actually talk to me? because i'm fine with out arrangement," you lie.
quinn stares at you with an unreadable expression. "look, it's not going to work"
"did the guys say something to you?" you bite. you reach your hand out to quinn but he pushes it away.
"no. i just don't think us being... involved... is a good idea anymore,"
"'involved'" you say sarcastically. you've been hooking up for three years now.
quinn stands up suddenly, "yeah. it's over - i'm over it,"
"okay?" youre defiant. "don't come begging to me when you see me with another guy - or when you need a quick lay. god, youre such an asshole!"
i wanna kiss you (yeah), don't wanna miss you (yeah) but i can't be with you 'cause i got issues yeah, on the surface, seem like it's easy careful with words, but it's still hard to read me
quinn didn't know why he shut everything down. he didn't want to - not really anyway. it was all so stupid and he shouldn't have reacted at all.
Stress high when the trust low (mmm) Bad vibes, where'd the fun go? (Oh) Try to open up and love more (love more) Try to open up and love more
the two friends move around each other awkwardly and the tension in the house was palpable. you start to skip out on summer activities, and quinn no longer seems to enjoy driving out into the lake when you were no longer sitting by his side. everything felt wrong.
If you were my boyfriend If you were my girlfriend I probably wouldn't see nobody else But I can't guarantee that by myself
"you know what, i'm glad we decided to all us quits. you were totally right! we wouldnt have made a good couple - you probably wouldnt have stopped seeing other people," your tone is scorching as you finally catch quinn alone.
"yeah well considering your track record you'd probably have gotten with somebody else before i even boarded my flight back to van," quinns quick to defend himself - leaving you reeling.
"what the fuck are you talking about?" you seethe, letting all your emotions wash over you at once.
"alex, that guy from u of m, the fucking football player!" quinn stresses the names of the last two, knowing those were the guys you hooked up while you were both at school.
you throw your arms up in the air, "you are such a hypocrite! do you know that? like seriously. lets not go tit for tat here quinn because trust i'll win every time,"
"everything always a game with you,"
you stare at him blankly. "what are we doing then? you told me the jealously was fun, you were the one who led me to your bed last week! you didn't want to get into a relationship in a first place!"
"so did you! don't spin this back on me!"
"i never said that!" you yell, "and i never got with alex,"
You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, I ain't your girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else (nobody) And I don't want you to see nobody
"you might as well be," quinn tries to bait you but you dont respond.
tears well up in your eyes, "you said you didn't see us being in an actual relationship"
at the sight of your tears quinn starts to backtrack. "im sorry-"
"no, i started all this," you say, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. "i'm sorry for getting mad at you - i'm done,"
"what do you mean youre done?" quinn responds, following behind you as you walk back into the lake house. as soon as the sliding door slams shut heads turn towards the two of you.
"you said you were done and i agree," you say simply, tears threatening to spill over as you catch sight of luke staring at you in confusion.
without another word you storm up the stairs and begin packing your suitcase.
But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you know you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah, mmm) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody (oh yeah)
your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you drive the fifteen minute trip to your parents house. it was over, finally over between the two of you.
You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else And I don't want you to see nobody
a week went by, and everybody presses quinn on why you left.
"i don't know guys, stop asking me about it," his answer stays the same, although his undereyes get considerably darker as the days go by.
But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody
˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]
yourusername
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liked by _alexturcotte, jackhughes, yourfriend, and 1 403 others
yourusername baby loves 🎧
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yourfriend baby loves im tryna talk to youuuuu
yourusername theres a boy ! and i dont quite know... what to dooo
_alexturcotte stunner ⚡️
user01 did u and quinn have a fight or something ? why did u guys unfollow each other lololll
user05 literal princess !!!
user11 quinn unfollowed and alex commenting... 👀
_quinnhughes
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liked by lhughes_06, bradytkachuk, 18 005 others
_quinnhughes summa with the brothers 🤟
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trevorzegras #Aesthetic
user08 no mention of yn... were cooked
user15 first summer photo numb in yearrrssss where yn didnt make a feature... 🫣👀
────୨ৎ──── ended insanely abruptly but i wanted to post something for u guys today😭
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aangelinakii · 1 day
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DRUNK WORDS, SOBER THOUGHTS.
— unexpected late night call.
summary : jason's always had a thing for his best friend's sibling. when they ask him to pick them up from a bar because roy would kill them, jason can't help but help a friend in need.
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after coming home from patrol tonight, jason wasn't expecting a call from you, especially with your words sounding so slurred. it was unlike you, or at least what he knew about you.
"hey, jace, i've been drinking in your part of town. do you think you can come get me? roy would literally kill me if he knew i'd been drinking down here." those were your words, or, at least, what he could make out through your blurry voice and hiccups.
if jason were your brother, he would kill you himself, too. no blaming roy.
despite being the son of a billionaire, jason preferred to keep out the way, in his own little bubble. it was just a shame the only little bubble he could find was in the dark, dingy cauldron. not a safe place to get drunk in.
he could agree the bars were good, surprisingly. they sold good stuff. but the people couldn't be trusted; even as a man his size, he knew if he wanted to get trashed at a bar, it had to be at a club in bristol, or the safety of his own home.
it wasn't long before jason pulled up outside the bar he had to strain his ears to decipher, and made out your swaying figure lingering on the pavement outside. jesus...
he was quick to hop out his car and hurry to your side, looping a supportive arm around your upper back. your frame bubbled with a hiccup beneath him, and he patiently led your stumbling legs to the passenger's seat of his sedan.
"what are you doing drinking in the cauldron?" jason tried to conceal his sigh as he fell into the driver's seat beside you, and close the door behind him, quick to turn on the heating.
"birthday," you hummed in return, lids falling low over your eyes as you sunk into the warm seat, a nice contrast to both the sweaty pub and nippy air outside.
this time, jason was unable to hide his surprise, turning to you with raised eyebrows. "it's your birthday?" he should've known.
but his surprise quickly bubbled into embarrassment as you huffed out a laugh, shaking your head.
"no, doof," you snickered, peering over at him with your tired, hazy eyes. "friend's."
made sense. he swore it wasn't your birthday any time soon; but he mostly just did that to make himself feel better for jumping to conclusions.
jason's big, scarred hands took hold of the steering wheel, and his feet, still fitted in his heavy boots from patrol, moved to the pedals. with a vrum, the car began to move down the road, lined with drunkards.
a few beats of silence passed between you, and jason watched out the corner of his eye as you leaned forward to press at the stereo, one of his cd's humming to life.
soft shoegaze flowed through the speakers, something you immediately recognised as slowdive, despite your intoxication, and a chuckle brushed past your lips as you leaned back.
"didn't cast you as the slowdive type."
the driver beside you cleared his throat, and he momentarily took his eyes off the road to adjust the stereo, changing it from his cd rack to the radio. "i'm not," he responded sheepishly, although trying to push out a tone of toughness. "where to, then? i guess not to roy."
deciding not to push it, you turned out the window, small bemused smile upon your lips. "roy would kill me." your words were slow as you spoke, an effort to be more inteligible.
wincing as you spoke, you turned to jason with a soft grimace. "can we go back to yours?" a pang gave in your chest as you caught sight of jason's side-eye as the car passed an amber streetlight. now you've done it; gone and called him to pick you up, and then ask him to go back to his. some friend you are, putting him in this position. "i'll make it up to you."
who was jason to decline?
his jaw clenched, and you could hear him breath deeply. your own heart thudded in anticipation.
from beside you, jason let out a gravelly sigh. "fine."
with a dizzy grin, you leaned forward to spin the knob on the stereo, turning up the muffled music. something new on the charts you had yet to hear yet, so there was no use singing along.
soon, jason was pulling up outside his apartment block, and clicking off the music.
"how good are you walking, pipsqueak?" he asked as he pulled the keys from the ignition, and the car gave a grunt as the power left its body.
a scoffed brushed past your lips as your fingers limply grabbed for the door handle, attempting to lift your knees but only grunting. don't get too cocky now.
with a pair of scrunched-together eyebrows, you turned to jason, grumbling at that bemused smile on his stupid lips. you didn't have to speak to answer his question.
he chuckled, and his door clicked open as he pulled on the handle. you watched through the windshield as your brother's best friend grinned stupidly to himself to get to your side.
there would be an unspoken agreement between the two of you to never let roy know about this.
your saviour peeled open the passenger side door and held a hand out, and you noticed that his palm was wrapped in bandage that was beginning to seep a browny-red. best not to ask. chucking wryly, you took hold of his hand, and didn't have to make much of an effort to stand, as jason was strong enough to do so.
roy always went on about how strong he was, often walking into your bedroom in the apartment you shared (gotham rent is too high in the nice parts!) just to flex in your mirror, but when he brought jason round — his best friend — you could tell the immediate winner. jason todd, by a landslide.
shutting the door and locking the car behind you, jason wrapped an arm around your waist, expertly holding you up on your stumbling feet, and escorted you into the lobby of his apartment building. if he weren't trying to help your drunkness, the affection could have been mistaken for something more than friendly. but you were under the influence. he knew better.
it was a struggle getting you up the steps to his floor, but jason got you there eventually, setting you down on the couch, gaze lingering for a moment as you swayed.
hands on hips, jason spoke down to you, voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "you eat anything before going out? drink any water at all tonight?"
letting out a soft hiccup, you shook your head slowly, eyes closing to try to eliminate the harsh beginnings of a headache that had began to blossom in the back of your cranium.
in return, the tall man tutted, mouth pursing to the side. he stepped away from the sitting area, and you could hear the distant flush of a faucet coming to life, the muted sound of a glass being filled with water.
he was back, carefully handing you the almost-full glass as he lowered himself to perch on the ledge of the stout coffee table before the couch, hands hovering outside yours as your own grip wobbled with the weight of the cup. after sending him a look, he backed off. you could handle it. maybe.
"the couch okay for you?" jason hummed after a moment, corner of his mouth quirked up, watching you sip gingerly at the tasteless water, although the colour was beginning to return to your face, the blur in your eyes clearing. "or dare i ask if you want my bed?"
pulling the glass from your lips, you swallowed your mouthful before allowing yourself to chuckle and shake your head. "couch is fine." your voice was small, a little crackly and tired.
with another hum, jason stood, and pulled a folded blanket from the back of a bust-up armchair beside the sofa. he traded the blanket for your half-empty glass, and sat against the coffee table again.
unfolding the size of the blanket, watching it get larger and larger, you began to lean back against the plush sofa, prepared for slumber to take over. however, the breath hitched in your throat, and your movements stopped, as the sensation of rough fingertips grazed against your ankle.
when you looked down, vision still owning a blur, jason was helping you with your shoes, so you could put your feet on the couch without a worry.
once you were free, and jason had discarded your shoes by one leg of the coffee table, you tugged your feet beneath the blanket, and sunk down into the cushions. for such a guy jason was, you were surprised by how comfortable he'd made his living room.
head sinking into a plush pillow, you peered up at jason from beneath heavy eyelids. he'd perched his chin in his hand, watching you carefully, eyes and smile soft, black hair touselled.
"jason?" you hummed, and you could see the way his smile widened for a moment before falling neutral.
he leaned closer to you, ears aching to hear you through the slight slur of your tongue and the small volume.
"you know you've always been my favourite of roy's friends." and you couldn't help but chuckle tiredly, the soft laugh morphing into a yawn.
but jason didn't laugh in return, only watching as your eyes slowl fluttered shut. if only you knew that you've always been his favourite of roy's siblings. and he's only got one of those.
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mssalo · 1 day
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safety - Part: III
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Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.
As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.
Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.
Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Obsession themes, Stalking, Panic episode/Paranoia, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, he sees stuff that isn't there, Mentions of war and combat-related trauma, Emotional manipulation, Power dynamics, Noncon/dubcon elements, Unstable mental state, Reader feeling conflicted. Joel needs a hug and therapy. As per usual.
10k
Enjoy!
Part I Part II
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
The soft afternoon sun filtered through your curtains as you did one last sweep of your small apartment, making sure everything was in place before heading out.
Your camping gear—neatly packed and checked twice—sat by the door, ready for another adventure.
This one felt different, though.
Maybe it was because you’d never gone so far out, or maybe because the spot had been suggested by Joel, the rugged, quiet man who came by at the supply store.
The thought of him made your stomach do a tiny flip, and you smiled to yourself, biting your lip.
Joel.
He was... intense, that was for sure.
Handsome in a way that took you by surprise—older, gruff, with that scruff on his jawline and those eyes that seemed to see right through you.
He’d been kind of closed off whenever you tried to talk to him, always giving short answers, but there was something about the way he looked at you.
You shook your head, grabbing your bag. Don’t get carried away.
Sure, he looked at you sometimes, his gaze lingering just a second longer than necessary, but that didn’t mean anything.
You were probably imagining it. After all, he was always so reserved, so hard to read.
And you? Well, you were... you.
He probably thinks I’m just a kid, you thought with a small sigh.
Cute, maybe, but nothing more.
You laughed at yourself, shaking your head as the trees closed in around you.
Stop it. Focus on the trip.
You weren’t here to daydream about handsome older men—you were here to camp, to prove to yourself that you could handle this on your own.
He was just... nice, in his own way. That was all.
You couldn’t help but smile as you tossed your gear into the backseat and slid behind the wheel, already feeling the excitement buzzing in your chest.
The open road stretched ahead of you, leading to the spot Joel had mentioned—someplace out past the ridge, quiet and secluded. It sounded like heaven.
The drive was peaceful, your fingers tapping the steering wheel as the scenery shifted from city to countryside.
The trees seemed to grow taller as you left the main roads behind, the air turning cooler and cleaner with every passing mile. You loved this—the sense of leaving the noise behind, of stepping into a world that was all your own. Out here, you could breathe.
The road eventually narrowed into a dirt path, and your car rumbled over the uneven ground as you followed the directions Joel had given you.
The sunlight flickered through the dense canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.
It was beautiful out here—quiet, untouched, with the kind of peace you could only find miles away from anyone else.
When you finally pulled into the small clearing, you felt your breath catch in your throat. Wow.
The space was perfect.
The trees formed a natural border around the clearing, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The ground was soft with pine needles, and the air smelled fresh and earthy, with just a hint of woodsmoke from somewhere far off.
You stepped out of the car, your boots crunching on the ground, and for a moment, you just stood there, taking it all in.
This is exactly what I needed.
You popped the trunk of your car, the warm breeze rustling through the trees as you grabbed your backpack and gear.
The sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky, casting a golden glow across the clearing, but you had plenty of time to set everything up before dusk settled in.
With a smile tugging at your lips, you slung the pack over your shoulder and took a deep breath of the crisp, earthy air.
It smelled like pine and moss, with just a hint of the nearby sea.
Perfect.
First things first—the tent.
You dropped your backpack onto the ground and knelt beside it, unzipping the side pocket where you’d stashed the tent poles.
Your fingers brushed over the cool metal, and you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you pulled them out.
These damn poles always give me trouble.
You spread the tent fabric over the grassy spot you’d chosen, carefully laying it flat and adjusting the corners.
The fabric crinkled under your touch, the sound almost lost in the hum of the wind and distant birdsong. The air was still, quiet, as if the forest itself was holding its breath while you worked.
With a determined sigh, you grabbed the poles and got to work.
The metal clinked softly as you tried to fit the pieces together, but as usual, they resisted you. You grumbled under your breath, fumbling with the last stubborn connection.
After a few minutes of struggling and a minor battle with the pole that just wouldn’t line up right, you finally secured the tent frame, the fabric puffing up as it took shape.
Not bad, you thought with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire your handiwork.
The tent stood proudly in the clearing, and you wiped a bit of dirt off your hands, brushing them against your jeans.
You weren’t done yet, though.
With the tent in place, you moved on to your cooking supplies. You pulled out your small camp stove, some pots, and a few basic utensils, setting them neatly near the fire pit.
Everything had a place, and you liked knowing where everything was. Organization was important to you—it gave you a sense of control, made you feel prepared for anything.
It was comforting, like you were creating a little slice of order in the middle of the wilderness.
As you set down your cooking gear, your gaze flicked up toward the treeline, where you could just make out the glimmer of the sea through the trees.
The light reflected off the water like tiny diamonds, and you felt a pull in your chest, a desire to sink into that cool water after all your hard work.
Soon, you thought, grinning to yourself.
Just a little longer.
You double-checked your setup, making sure everything was where it needed to be.
The tent was secure, the cooking supplies organized, and the fire pit was ready for later. With everything in place, a sense of accomplishment washed over you.
The silence of the clearing felt peaceful, almost sacred, as if this place had been waiting just for you.
You took another deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs, and as you exhaled, you felt lighter, freer.
It was just you and the wilderness now, the weight of the world falling away. And with that thought, you couldn’t resist any longer.
You straightened up, glanced back at the sea shimmering in the distance, and a surge of excitement bubbled up inside you.
Without thinking, you raised your arms toward the sky and let out a loud, joyful, “Wooooohooo!”
Your voice echoed through the trees, the sound dancing on the wind.
You couldn’t help but laugh as the echoes faded, your heart pounding with exhilaration.
It was a small victory, this moment—being here, in this beautiful place, by yourself.
“Thank you, Joel!” you called out, a grin stretching across your face.
You weren’t sure if you were talking to the wind or to yourself, but it didn’t matter.
He wasn’t here, but somehow, it felt right to thank him.
After all, he had recommended this place, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the suggestion. You stood there for a moment longer, letting the silence settle in again.
Then, with a smile still tugging at your lips, you turned toward the path that led to the sea.
It was time to reward yourself with a swim, to feel the water against your skin, cool and refreshing.
This is going to be a good trip.
And who knows? you thought, maybe I’ll come back and tell Joel all about it.
· · ──────
Joel had been watching her since she arrived, hidden in the treeline, his gaze sharp and steady. His truck was parked a ways back, well out of sight.
He’d walked the rest of the way, making sure to stay quiet as he moved through the brush, his boots silent against the earth.
He was always careful—old habits from his time in the military never died, and neither did his instinct to remain unseen.
Joel watched her step out, wide-eyed and eager, like she hadn’t the faintest clue about the dangers lurking in a place like this. Even though he’d told her where to come, seeing her here alone had set him on edge.
He had to protect her. Make sure she was safe.
She started setting up her camp, fumbling with the tent poles like he expected she would.
His lips twitched in amusement as she muttered to herself, the poles giving her more trouble than they had any right to.
He watched her struggle, clumsy but determined, and despite himself, he felt his chest tighten again, that same damn feeling that had been gnawing at him for weeks.
He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching her like this, but the more he told himself that, the more his feet stayed planted. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a tree as he kept his eyes on her.
She was smart—he could see it in the way she double-checked everything, making sure the tent was secure, the cooking gear laid out just so.
She wasn’t careless, not exactly. Just… naive.
Still, something about her innocence, her softness, drew him in, despite his better judgment.
As she finished up, he was about to move, maybe head back to his truck and give her some space, but then she did something that made him freeze.
She raised her arms to the sky, her voice bursting out of her in a loud, joyful, “Woooohooo!”
Joel tensed, his instincts flaring, his hand instinctively hovering near his belt. The sound had startled him, snapping him into high alert.
He scanned the area, eyes narrowing, but there was nothing.
Just her. Alone. Safe.
Relief washed over him, but then he felt something else—a strange amusement creeping in.
She wasn’t screaming out of fear. No, she was celebrating, shouting into the empty wilderness like it was hers to claim.
She laughed, carefree and so full of life that it almost… unsettled him. His chest loosened, and before he could stop himself, a low chuckle rumbled deep in his throat.
She had no idea he was there, no idea how close he was.
Then, to his complete surprise, she threw her head back and shouted, “Thank you, Joel!”
Joel’s eyebrows shot up, the words hanging in the air between them, the sound of her voice almost too sweet.
His grip on his belt relaxed, his pulse slowing as he realized she was… thanking him.
For this. For bringing her here.
His amusement deepened, and he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. A soft breeze rustled through the trees, and Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice a low murmur as he whispered under his breath,
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
He watched her for a moment longer, her happiness infectious despite himself. She was something different, that much he knew. Something soft in a world that had long since hardened him.
And as much as he knew he should leave her alone, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Not now.
Not when she was out here, completely unaware of the dangers that could surround her at any moment. Because that’s what he was here for, wasn’t it?
To keep her safe. To make sure nothing happened to her.
Joel watched her from the shadows, still on high alert as she busied herself around the campsite. His amusement had faded, replaced by that familiar tension coiling in his chest, the constant need to keep her safe gnawing at him.
It didn't sit right with him, her being out here all alone.
She had no idea what kind of dangers lurked out in the woods, no clue just how vulnerable she was. He clenched his fists, eyes narrowing as he kept his distance.
She was endearing, sure.
Sweet, even.
But that sweetness was going to get her killed if she wasn't careful. And as much as he wanted to keep his distance, to leave her be, he couldn't. She needs to be protected, he thought, his jaw tightening.
She doesn't even realize how easy of a target she is.
He kept his eyes on her, watching every movement with a careful precision. It wasn't just about keeping her safe from wild animals or the natural dangers of the wilderness.
People-men-could show up.
She was vulnerable in more ways than one, and Joel knew just how ruthless the world could be. His mind was spiraling again, his paranoia threatening to take over, when he saw her heading toward the small lake just beyond the campsite.
His eyes followed her, every muscle in his body tensing as he realized what she was doing.
She was undressing.
Joel's breath caught in his throat as he watched her pull her shirt over her head, her soft skin catching the light of the fading sun.
His mind screamed at him to look away, to respect her privacy, but his body betrayed him, his eyes glued to her every movement.
She dropped her shorts next, standing there in nothing but her underwear, the curve of her waist and hips on full display.
Joel's chest tightened, that familiar, unwanted heat rising inside him. He swallowed hard, his grip on the tree next to him tightening.
All the blood rushing to his cock.
But then she did something that made his blood boil.
With one fluid motion, she unclasped her bra, letting it tall to the ground.
His eyes locked onto the bare skin of her back, the soft curves of her body now fully exposed. She bent down, slipping out of her underwear, her entire form now vulnerable and exposed to the world.
What the hell is she doing?
A surge of anger flared up inside him. She was defenseless, naked, out in the open with no protection.
If anything-anyone-were to show up, she wouldn't stand a chance.
His mind raced with worst-case scenarios, the kind of things he'd seen during the war, the kind of things that made his skin crawl.
She's making herself a damn target.
Joel's jaw clenched, his fists tightening as he took a step forward, every instinct screaming at him to go to her, to tell her to put her damn clothes back on, to stop being so careless.
But then he froze.
His eyes swept over her again, this time with less anger and more... something else. The tension in his chest shifted, the fire in his veins cooling to a slow burn as he watched her step into the water, her body moving with a grace he hadn't noticed before.
Her bare skin glistened in the fading light, soft and smooth, the curves of her hips and the lines of her back almost too perfect.
She moved so effortlessly, her body swaying gently as she waded into the water, unaware of the eyes on her.
Joel's breath came out in slow, uneven bursts as he watched her. His anger faded, replaced by a twisted sense of admiration.
She was beautiful-there was no denying that. Her body was soft, untouched by the harshness of the world. His eyes traced the curve of her waist, the way her plump ass shifted as she walked deeper into the water.
Joel's chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy as he watched her.
His hand twitched at his side, his mind warring between the desire to protect her and the desire to... take her.
Take her - right here, right now on the forest floor.
His gaze followed the curve of her back, the way her hair floated around her in the water.
She was so oblivious, so innocent, completely unaware of the dangers around her.
And that was what enraged him—the recklessness, the vulnerability.
She had no idea how exposed she was, not just to the world but to him. The thought gnawed at him, tearing at the edges of his resolve.
He should have been disgusted with himself for standing there, hidden in the shadows, watching her like this. But the desire twisted deep inside him, growing stronger the longer he stared.
Joel swallowed hard, his throat dry, as his eyes roamed lower, taking in every inch of her.
The tightness in his jeans was almost painful, his cock pressing hard against the denim, aching in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.
The war inside him raged on.
His mind wavered between the desperate need to protect her and the darker, more primal urge he had no right to feel. He wanted to shield her from the world, from the dangers lurking just beyond the trees.
But at the same time, he wanted to take her in all ways possible, to claim her as his. To fuck into her small body. To make her understand just how much she needed him.
No. Stop.
Joel leaned against the tree, his knuckles white as he fought to steady his breath.
His breath hitched as she resurfaced, water cascading down her bare skin like liquid silver.
The way the sunlight danced across her damp figure, catching on every curve and hollow, made her look almost unreal—like something ethereal, pulled straight from a dream.
Her skin shimmered in the fading light, her hair slicked back, clinging to her neck and shoulders in wet strands that only accentuated the softness of her features.
She didn’t belong out here.
She looked too delicate, too pure for the wildness surrounding her.
The contrast between the untamed wilderness and her serene, almost angelic form sent a shiver down his spine.
She was grace in motion, completely unaware of how vulnerable she was.
Each movement she made, each ripple in the water as she waded further in, was almost hypnotic, drawing him in deeper.
He had seen a lot in his life—too much.
The ugliness of the world had hardened him, left him numb to the softness it still had to offer.
But now, watching her, something in him cracked.
It wasn’t just the lust. It was something else.
Something about the way she seemed to glow in the dying light, so peaceful, so unburdened by the weight of the world.
She was everything he wasn't—everything he’d lost a long time ago. Ethereal, untouchable, and yet here she was, right in front of him.
Joel felt the pull again, that urge to protect her, to shield her from the darkness that had consumed so much of his life. But more than that, he wanted to keep her for himself, to have her softness against all his rough edges.
And in that moment, he realized, there was no going back.
Joel's jaw clenched as she started to wade back toward the shore, the water slipping down her body, revealing more of her as she emerged. The way the droplets glistened on her skin, made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away.
His pulse quickened, the primal urge to keep watching nearly overwhelming him.
But then, Joel forced himself to look away.
Not yet.
His fists tightened at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
He wanted to see her fully, to drink in every inch of her-but not like this.
In due time.
The thought stirred something deep inside him, the hunger gnawing at him even more fiercely.
He swallowed hard, his breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls.
Joel exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down, forcing his gaze back to the safety of the trees.
· · ────
The sun had finally dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows across your camp.
You moved around with a sense of contentment, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.
Everything felt peaceful—the kind of peace that you didn’t often get to experience in your daily life.
You set about lighting the small lantern, but as you reached for your flashlight to help navigate the growing darkness, a frown crossed your face.
“Where is it…?” you muttered, going through your bag again.
You checked each pocket carefully, but no flashlight.
You’d been so sure you packed it.
With a sigh, you knelt to check your gear one more time, shaking your head at your forgetfulness.
But then, there it was.
Sitting right in front of the tent flap, the flashlight gleamed in the soft light of the lantern, as if it had been there all along.
You blinked, rubbing your eyes in confusion.
“I swear that wasn’t there before,” you whispered to yourself.
It didn’t make sense.
You hadn’t seen it when you set up the tent, and you definitely would’ve noticed it while sorting through your gear. But after a moment of hesitation, you shrugged and picked it up, flicking it on to make sure it worked.
The beam cut through the growing twilight, casting long, gentle shadows over the campsite.
You felt a little silly for doubting yourself.
Maybe you were just distracted—too caught up in the excitement of the trip.
“Good job, brain,” you muttered with a grin, brushing off the strangeness as you moved on.
As you dug through your pack to prepare for dinner, your hand paused mid-search. You realized something else was missing.
Your lighter.
“Oh, come on,” you groaned, slumping your shoulders in frustration.
This was supposed to be the easy part.
You sat back on your heels, glancing around camp, trying to figure out where you might have left it.
But before you could even get up to start looking, something caught your eye.
A lighter.
Sitting near the fire pit.
You squinted, taking a step closer. It wasn’t just any lighter.
It had a goofy design on it—bright colors with some sort of cartoon character.
You raised your eyebrows, picking it up and turning it over in your hand. The lighter had a ridiculous picture of a grinning, cartoonish frog on it, wearing sunglasses. Beneath it, the words “Coolest Camper Ever!” were printed in bold letters.
You burst out laughing, the absurdity of it breaking through your earlier frustration.
“What the heck?” you giggled, flicking the lighter on and watching the small flame flicker to life.
“Well, guess this’ll do,” you chuckled, tucking it into your pocket.
You had no idea where this thing came from—it certainly wasn’t yours—but it was too funny to care.
Besides, a free lighter was a free lighter.
You couldn’t shake the feeling of oddness, though. Finding the flashlight and then this strange lighter? Maybe you were just a bit more scattered than usual, but still… it was weird.
You shook it off, letting the humor of the situation lighten your mood as you went back to your tasks.
· · ────
Joel moved like a shadow through the trees, his steps soundless on the forest floor. Years of survival had taught him how to blend into the background, how to become invisible when needed.
This wasn’t his first time sneaking up on someone—far from it—but something about doing it now, with her, made his chest tighten.
It wasn’t the same as before.
No enemy patrols, no immediate danger. But there was a weight to this, a tension that hadn’t been there for years. He was on edge, his senses heightened, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring.
She hadn’t noticed him yet. Not once.
That fact gnawed at him, frustration bubbling under the surface. She was so damn easy to watch, so completely unaware of the world around her.
It bothered him how vulnerable she was, how easily someone could sneak up on her like this.
Like he was doing.
But that's different.
As he moved closer, crouched low among the trees, he caught sight of her bent over her bag, her back to him as she searched for something.
nice view.
Joel quickly dismissed the thought.
He narrowed his eyes, watching her every move, assessing the scene like he had a hundred times before in far more dangerous situations.She was clumsy, fumbling with her things, but she didn’t seem to care.
Didn’t seem to realize how exposed she was.
Joel moved closer, his heart beating steadily in his chest, the thrill of sneaking up on her stirring something dark inside him. He reached into his bag, picking up the flashlight with ease, his rough fingers brushing against the cool metal.
He considered leaving it there for her to find but decided against it. She didn’t deserve to fumble around in the dark. Not on his watch.
Instead, he stepped toward the front of her tent, staying just out of her line of sight.
He placed the flashlight down carefully, making sure it was in a spot where she’d see it right away.
Then, he stepped back, blending into the shadows, watching her from his cover.
The satisfaction he felt when she spotted the flashlight was immediate, that small spark of pleasure flaring up in his chest as she picked it up, her face lighting up with a smile.
She thought she’d just found it by chance, like it was some kind of lucky accident.
Joel’s chest tightened at the sight of her, the tension in his muscles easing for a moment as he watched her laugh softly, holding the flashlight like a prize.
Sweet, sweet girl, he thought, his lips twitching into a small, satisfied smile.
Helping her, watching her without her knowing—it stirred something in him, something deeper than just the need to protect.
He liked seeing her happy, seeing that soft, innocent smile on her face.
And maybe, just maybe, he liked knowing that he had a part in it.
But as she continued with her setup, completely oblivious to his presence, Joel’s satisfaction turned to frustration.
She was too trusting, too naive. Anyone could sneak up on her like this—hell, anyone could do worse. The thought made his stomach churn.
She was easy prey. He could see it. Anyone with the wrong intentions would see it.
That didn’t sit right with him. She should have been more aware, should have been on edge, watching her surroundings like he was.
Instead, she was just… carefree.
Smiling to herself, humming that soft tune, completely at ease.
Joel’s hand clenched around the lighter in his pocket, his thumb brushing over the ridiculous cartoon frog on the side.
He almost didn’t bring it—didn’t want to be caught with something so ridiculous—but it was the only spare lighter he had on him.
He’d groaned internally when he fished it out earlier, irritated by the childish design. But now, watching her, it felt like it fit. She was the kind of person who would laugh at something like that, who would find it cute instead of stupid.
Joel moved again, slipping the lighter out of his pocket and placing it by the fire pit while her back was still turned. He retreated quickly, his heart pounding a little faster as he watched her from the shadows.
Her reaction was immediate. She spotted the lighter, her eyes widening in surprise as she reached for it.
She held it up, inspecting the cartoon frog, and then let out a soft laugh.
Joel shifted slightly, his eyes still locked on her as she moved around the camp, still smiling to herself, still humming that soft tune.
A mix of pride and something darker twisted in his chest.
She’s doing alright, he thought, his eyes softening for just a moment.
She’s managing.
But it didn’t change the fact that she shouldn’t be out here alone. So damn easy, he thought, his grip tightening on the tree next to him.
She wouldn’t be easy prey for anyone else.
Not while he was around.
· · ────
The night had grown darker, the soft glow of her campfire flickering against the tall trees.
The shadows seemed to stretch and shift as the wind rustled through the leaves.
She was oblivious to how exposed she was—how vulnerable. Joel could see it, though, with each breath he took, his eyes fixed on her.
Then it happened.
A sudden thud and a sharp, startled yelp echoed through the still night air.
His body reacted immediately.
Joel’s heart lurched, and his mind instantly raced back to those moments he tried so hard to forget—those moments where a single sound could mean life or death.
His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. His hand reflexively reached for his knife, muscles coiled, his senses heightened. Without thinking, he moved forward, his feet silent against the earth, ready to act, ready to fight.
His breath came fast and hard as his eyes locked onto her form.
She was sitting, clutching her knee, her face twisted in a mix of pain and frustration.
“Stupid root,” she muttered to herself, clearly frustrated.
She wasn’t in any real danger—just a small cut, a scrape from tripping over one of the tree roots near her tent.But Joel couldn’t process that right away.
All he saw was blood.
And in his mind, that blood meant danger.
His fingers twitched around the handle of the knife, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as the past threatened to swallow him whole. Memories slammed into him—the screams, the gunshots, the sight of bodies crumpling to the ground.
He couldn’t lose her, too.
His mind flashed back to another time, another place, where he couldn’t protect someone. Someone who depended on him.
No. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
Not with her.
She shifted, wincing as she gingerly touched her scraped knee, bringing Joel back to the present.
His chest heaved with heavy, erratic breaths as he forced himself to focus on her—on the here and now.
She wasn’t hurt. Not really. But she was vulnerable. Alone.
And she had no idea how easily that could change.
Joel gritted his teeth, the panic still clawing at the edges of his mind, even as he crouched back into the shadows, watching her, making sure nothing else was lurking in the dark. His grip on the knife loosened, but only slightly.
Her yelp still rang in his ears, echoing in his mind like the sounds of explosions, of soldiers calling out for help, of people he couldn’t save.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe, trying to pull himself out of the spiral, but the need to protect her—to keep her safe—burned hotter than anything else. It consumed him.
Joel blinked, his eyes snapping open, refocusing on her.
She was bandaging her knee, her movements slow but steady.
She didn’t realize how close she’d come—how easy it was for something to go wrong.
She never did.
Joel swallowed hard, pushing the memories down deep where they belonged, forcing himself to stay in the present. She finally stood up, brushing herself off with a soft sigh of relief, and Joel let out a shaky breath of his own. She was okay. For now.
But that fear, that suffocating terror of losing her, lingered in his chest, gnawing at him, refusing to let go.
As Joel watched her by the fire, his mind began to drift, despite his efforts to keep it anchored in the present.
He should’ve been focused, alert, scanning for threats the way he used to on patrols. But tonight, his attention wavered, his thoughts tugging him back to a place he’d rather forget.
The darkness around him wasn’t just the night anymore.
It felt like the blackness from years ago, the same emptiness that had swallowed him whole when the world had gone to hell.
The firelight flickered against her face, soft and warm.
A shadow of something ugly crept over his chest, a weight pressing down on him as memories surfaced.
Old sounds echoed in his ears—the screams, the gunfire, the deafening silence that always followed. He blinked hard, trying to shove it all away, trying to stay here, in the now.
But the harder he fought, the more it pressed in. His jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply through his nose, his fingers digging into the ground beneath him, grounding himself.
He wasn’t back there. Not anymore. He was here, with her.
Watching her.
Focus.
But the silence around her, her obliviousness to what could be lurking in the shadows—it made him feel the same helplessness he had felt back then.
It crawled under his skin, a sickening reminder of what happened when you let your guard down, when you trusted too much.
His heart pounded in his chest as the old memories of blood and failure threatened to overwhelm him.
He couldn’t lose control. Not here. Not now.
He was responsible for her, for keeping her safe. That’s what mattered. That’s why he was out here in the dark, crouched behind trees, sneaking around like a damn ghost.
But the sight of her, so unaware, so damn vulnerable, gnawed at the edges of his mind, warping the lines between past and present.
A flash of something dark ran through his mind—her, crumpled, broken, hurt, blood on her soft skin. He blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut, fighting off the images.
No.
Not her.
It was just his mind playing tricks on him. The way it always did.
He forced his eyes open again, and there she was—still sitting by the fire, completely unaware of his presence. Alive. Unhurt. Fine.
But the fear wouldn’t leave him.
He’d seen too much, lost too much. And he couldn’t shake the thought that she was going to slip through his fingers just like everything else had. His muscles tensed, his hands shaking slightly as his breath came faster.
He had to stay calm, had to stay in control. But the firelight flickered against her skin, and the memory of another fire, another moment he couldn’t change, flickered in his mind.
He was back there, just for a moment—back in the dirt, the weight of the gun in his hands, the scent of burning wood and flesh thick in the air.
He blinked, shaking his head, trying to drag himself out of it. His fingers curled into fists, grounding himself in the rough texture of the earth beneath him.
She’s not them, he reminded himself again, his breath coming fast and ragged. She’s not them. She’s here. You can protect her.
But the fear was relentless.
His need to protect her was more than just that. It was the only thing tethering him to reality, to something other than the nightmares.
If he could keep her safe, if he could make sure nothing happened to her, then maybe he wouldn’t have to drown in the guilt and the memories that haunted him every night.
Joel wiped a hand across his face, the weight of it all pressing down on him as he forced himself to focus on her again.
His chest rose and fell with shaky breaths as he stood up, retreating back to the shadows. He would watch her, make sure nothing happened to her.
And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay for one more night.
· · ────
Joel’s breath hitched as he crouched in the shadows, his eyes darting toward every shift in the wind, every rustle of leaves.
Something wasn’t right.
The air felt thick, oppressive, like it was charged with danger, and his gut twisted painfully. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing, but the nagging fear only grew stronger.
Something was out there. Someone was watching.
His mind flickered back to the war—how quiet the enemy could be, how they could slip through the trees, undetected until it was too late.
He was trained for this. He knew when something was lurking, waiting to strike. But this wasn’t like before. This was worse.
Joel’s jaw clenched as he scanned the treeline, eyes narrowing at the dark silhouettes of the forest.
The shadows moved, shifted in ways that didn’t make sense.
His heart pounded in his chest, a cold sweat trickling down his neck.
They're out there. They want her. They couldn't take you - now they want her.
They’ll take her if you don’t move now.
The thought gripped him like a vice, and before he could stop himself, Joel was on his feet, moving toward her camp.
His hand was still wrapped tightly around his knife, his breath heavy and ragged as he stepped closer. His heart hammered against his ribs, every step bringing him closer to the firelight.
He could see her now—still by the tent, oblivious to what was out there, what was coming. He was sure of it.
The shadows… they were moving too fast. Too wrong. The enemy was here. He knew it.
His eyes widened, panic swelling in his chest. Move faster. Move before they take her.
“Joel?”
Her voice was soft, surprised, and completely unaware of the danger as she turned to face him. Her brow furrowed slightly, confusion flashing across her face as she stepped toward him.
But all he could see were the shadows.
Circling. Closing in.
Joel lunged forward, grabbing her arm with a firm, desperate grip. “We need to go,” he growled, his voice rough and frantic.
“What? Joel—”
“They’re here. Right there in the trees,” he rasped, eyes wild, scanning the darkness behind her. “We need to leave now. It’s not safe.”
She froze, her eyes wide with confusion as she looked around, trying to see what he saw. “I don’t—there’s nothing out there—”
“They’re coming for you,” Joel cut her off, his voice urgent, the raw panic clear in every word. His grip tightened on her arm, and for a moment, the fear in his eyes startled her more than his words.
“Joel, wait,” she said, her voice shaky, but she didn’t pull away. She could feel his hand trembling against her skin, his breath coming out in heavy, uneven bursts.
Her heart raced in her chest as she realized something was wrong. Really wrong.
There was no one in the trees. There were no shadows creeping toward her.
But Joel—he believed it.
She could see it in his eyes, in the way his muscles tensed, the way he scanned the darkness like a man hunted.
He wasn’t seeing what was real. He was lost in something else—something dark and terrifying.
Her stomach twisted with a mix of fear and empathy.
Joel wasn’t trying to scare her. He wasn’t trying to hurt her.
He was trying to save her.
But from what?
Joel’s eyes were wild, scanning the tree line as if any second something was going to leap out and drag her away. His grip on her arm tightened, his knuckles white, and his breathing erratic. She could feel the tension radiating off him, his whole body taut like a coiled spring ready to snap.
The way his gaze darted around, the sheer panic in his voice—she could tell he wasn’t seeing the same world she was.
“They’re here,” he repeated, his voice barely more than a growl. “Don’t you see ‘em? They’re in the trees, waitin’ for their chance. They’re comin’ for you. We gotta go, now.”
Her stomach flipped. She couldn’t see anything. The trees were still, the night was calm—nothing moved except the gentle sway of the branches in the breeze. There were no shadows, no figures lurking in the darkness.
But Joel… he was seeing something. Something awful.
For a moment, panic swelled in her chest, the weight of his fear pressing down on her like a heavy stone.
She wanted to pull away, to run, but she couldn’t leave him like this. His mind was trapped in whatever nightmare had a hold on him, and the only thing that seemed real to him was her.
He thought he was protecting her.
“Joel, listen to me,” she said softly, even as her heart raced. “There’s no one out there. It’s just us.”
But he shook his head violently, his eyes wide, unblinking. “No, no, no, you’re wrong.” His voice was strained, and for a second, she thought he might completely lose it. “They’re watchin’… waitin’. I can’t let ‘em take you. You have to come with me now.”
Her pulse thrummed in her ears, her breath quickening as she watched the battle raging behind his eyes. He was lost in something she couldn’t reach.
She glanced at the woods, her eyes scanning the same tree line, trying to see what he saw. But there was nothing. Only shadows and silence.
“Okay,” she said quietly, forcing herself to stay calm, though her fingers trembled as she gently placed her hand on his. “We’ll go. We’ll leave, alright? But you have to calm down.”
He blinked, his breath coming in harsh, ragged bursts. His grip on her arm loosened, but only a little. His eyes flickered between her and the darkened woods, uncertainty clouding his face.
“Just breathe, Joel,” she whispered, keeping her voice steady, even though the fear still crawled beneath her skin. “We’ll go. I’m right here. Just breathe.”
For a moment, Joel seemed to hesitate, his gaze shifting between her and the unseen threat in the trees. His body was still rigid, his muscles coiled with tension, but her voice—her touch—seemed to reach him, if only just a little.
She squeezed his hand gently, her heart pounding in her chest.
“We’ll be okay, Joel. But I need you to calm down. I need you to help me. I can’t do this without you.”
“You’re the only one who can save me,” she whispered, forcing the words through her tightening throat.
He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since this episode started. His eyes were still clouded with panic, but there was something else there now—something raw, almost vulnerable.
She was giving him what he needed: a sense of control, of purpose. If playing along helped ease his fear, she’d do it. She’d make him feel like he was saving her.
She didn’t let go of his hand. “Let’s go, okay? We’ll go to the car, and we’ll get out of here.”
Joel hesitated for another beat, his eyes darting back to the trees one last time before he nodded slowly. “Alright,” he rasped, his voice strained but quieter now. “But we need to move. Now.”
“Okay,” she agreed, giving him a small, shaky smile. “We’ll go.”
Her heart was still pounding, but she felt a wave of relief as his grip on her arm loosened.
The whole time, Joel’s eyes remained locked on the trees, his paranoia still burning beneath the surface.
She didn’t know what had triggered him, didn’t know what demons had clawed their way into his mind. But she knew one thing for certain—Joel wasn’t in control right now. His fear was.
And as they made their way toward the car, she glanced up at him, her mind racing.
He wasn’t just scared. He was terrified—terrified for her.
But she didn’t let go of his hand, squeezing it gently to pull him back, to ground him in the present. and uncertain, “ I can’t let them take you.”
“They won’t,” she promised, even though the terror in his voice made her own heart race.
“They won’t because you’re here. But I need you to focus on me, alright? Focus on keeping me safe.”
Joel’s eyes flickered again, his shoulders stiff with tension, but he nodded slowly, as if trying to pull himself out of the dark place he’d fallen into.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
She shook her head, brushing it off. “You don’t need to be sorry. Just stay with me, okay?”
They reached the car, and she gently guided him toward the passenger seat, her hand still resting lightly on his arm. He hesitated, looking back at the woods one more time, his brow furrowed in deep suspicion.
But when she opened the car door, he finally climbed inside, his breathing still uneven, but not as frantic as before.
As she slid into the driver’s seat, she glanced over at him, her mind racing.
She didn’t know what exactly had triggered him, but she knew she had to get him away from here, had to bring him back to some kind of safety.
He needs help, she thought again, her heart heavy with the weight of the realization.
And despite everything, she couldn’t help but feel the strange mix of fear and concern that tied them together in this moment.
· · ────
Joel’s fingers twitched, his hands balling into fists in his lap as he stared out the windshield, still scanning the woods. The shadows played tricks on his mind, flickering with movement that wasn’t really there.
His chest was tight, his pulse still pounding in his ears.
But when he looked over at her, sitting there, waiting for him to calm down, something inside him clicked.
He couldn’t let her drive. Not like this. Not when the road might not be safe.
“Move over,” he muttered, his voice rough, but less frantic now.
He reached for the keys in the ignition, and she blinked in surprise, her brows furrowing as she glanced at him.
“Joel—”
“I’ll drive,” he said, his tone final, leaving no room for argument.
His gaze flicked toward the dark trees again, the unease still crawling under his skin, but there was a steady determination in his voice now.
“I need to make sure we get outta here.”
For a moment, she hesitated, her eyes soft with concern as she studied his face.
But then she gave a small nod, understanding that he needed this—needed to feel like he was in control again.
Wordlessly, she slid over to the passenger seat, and Joel settled behind the wheel, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.
He didn’t waste any time, starting the car and pulling onto the narrow dirt road.
The tires crunched over the gravel as they drove away from the campsite, the darkness closing in around them, but Joel’s focus was sharp now.
His jaw clenched as he kept his eyes on the road, his mind still racing, still half-expecting something to jump out from the shadows.
But there was something grounding about the feel of the wheel beneath his hands, the engine rumbling under his control.
“She’s safe,” he reminded himself. “I’m getting her out.”
The thought repeated in his mind like a mantra, pushing back the lingering panic that had gripped him so tightly just moments before.
He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Not now. Not ever.
He glanced over at her, just for a second, seeing the way she sat quietly beside him, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes flicking between him and the road.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t press him, but he could feel her presence calming him, bringing him back to the present.
But beneath the surface, the fear still simmered, the paranoia still gnawing at him.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still out there, watching, waiting. And that made his grip on the wheel tighten even more.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear.
She glanced at him, her expression softening. “You don’t have to apologize, Joel.”
But he did. He had to apologize for putting her in danger, for not being able to protect her. He wasn’t enough, not in that moment. And that thought alone ate at him, twisting in his gut.
The road stretched out in front of them, the trees looming in the distance, and Joel’s mind remained focused, laser-sharp, as he drove them toward safety.
Toward his home.
Where he could keep an eye on her.
Where he could make sure nothing would ever hurt her.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
well…. that was intense.
(she’s better than me I would’ve ran away screaming)
Horny, people - I hope you can forgive me for not having real smut in this yet.. next chapter is going to be heated, get ready - it’s finally happening.
Again - comment if you want me to remind you when there’s a next part!
xoxo
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tj-is-down · 17 hours
Text
Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Tyler Owens x Reader)
Back again with another random fic for y'all. This is not proofread, so don't hate me!
Summary: Tyler and the reader have been on and off "together" for years now, keeping it secret. Until, suddenly, one of them decides they might want more.
Word count: ~2.1k
Warnings: None except some swearing, and reader is described femininely in this one.
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Here’s the thing about Humble Creek: everybody knows everybody. A small town made up of just under five thousand, there was nothing that anybody could do in secret, because if one person knew, then it was just as if they’d taken a bullhorn and announced it to the entire town.
Which made Y/N’s life all the harder. See, she did have a secret, and although it hadn’t gotten out yet, its secrecy was held in the hands of a monster. A tyrant, a tool, a pain-in-the-ass douchebag with a cowboy hat and a Texas accent.
Tyler Owens.
Y/N had known he was trouble since they were kids. Growing up on rival ranches, they were destined to be enemies, and even more so, to blur the lines. Y/N had never trusted him. Not because their families were constantly fighting, as she believed everybody deserved their own chance to prove themself, but because he had fucked his up, royally. 
In elementary school, middle school, high school, Tyler was always the talk of the town. Always with a girl on his arm, Tyler was confident, and everybody else was just putty in his hands. Y/N told herself she didn’t understand what people saw in him. 
She lied.
It started in eighth grade, when Tyler showed up in a too-big tux and a bouquet of flowers he’d handpicked from his family’s garden.
“You wanna go to the dance?” He asked, grinning cockily. Even then he knew how to charm, before he even knew what charm was.
Y/N’s dad had said no, absolutely no way, but Y/N was in her rebellious phase and so this only pushed her to say yes. She went out right then, in her mud-stained t-shirt and jeans, and they’d walked to the school together at seven p.m. and walked home together at nine. He’d kissed her cheek goodnight and she’d wiped it off, embarrassed.
“You’re annoying, Owens.”
“And you’re pretty, L/N.”
On the next Monday he came to school with Cherry Lee.
Y/N tried to be mad. She tried to hate Tyler, to swear that she’d never talk to him or think about him or even look at him ever again. But two months later, when Tyler and Cherry broke up, he’d knocked on her door when he knew her parents weren’t home and, against her better judgment, she’d let him inside.
They’d been on-and-off “together” ever since.
Now, Tyler wasn’t single for long intervals, usually just a couple of weeks here and there, and he would never cheat, nor would Y/N let herself become a homewrecker (no matter how fragile the relationship), but when Tyler showed up on her doorstep, bouquet in hands and that look in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no. 
She was an adult now, but still, she couldn’t resist those eyes. Tyler had been single since before leaving for college, and when he came back it was like he’d never left. Sure, now he had a truck, a big name, a crew, and a YouTube channel, but he still had those eyes, and his family still had a garden with a never-ending supply of flowers.
He showed up on her door one morning, after her parents had left for church.
“Can I help you?” She asked, opening the door. As always, a t-shirt and jeans, dirty from the morning’s work on the farm.
“You’re not at church?”
“You knew I wouldn’t be.”
“Well, maybe the two and I can practice praying on our own? I think the first step is kneeling down; you wanna start?”
Y/N went to close the door, but Tyler’s hand reached out to prop it open.
“Come on, Darlin’,” he said, laying the accent on thick. “You want to go for a drive? I’ll buy you a coffee.”
“Hold the coffee,” she said, walking past him. “I’d rather not have anyone see us together.”
He grabbed her waist and stood behind her, kissing her neck. “We’ve been doing this for years, babe. No one’s gonna find out, I promise.”
She leaned her head towards him, breathing in the scent of firewood mixed with his cologne. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“You gettin’ sappy on me?” He asked. Though his voice was soft, she could feel his smirk.
“Nope.” She pulled out of his grasp and got into the passenger seat of his truck. “We going, or are you just gonna stand there looking all doe-eyed?”
“For you, I’d stand here all day, sweetheart.”
“Just get in the car, Romeo.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
*** 
They drove for a while, to the outskirts of town, when Tyler stopped the truck and leaned over. He kissed her lips, hard and slow, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. She reciprocated, holding his bicep, moving her mouth in tandem with his and letting herself fall into him.
“Why are you being so love-y today?” She asked after they separated.
“I can’t show my girl some love?”
“Is that what I am? ‘Your girl’?”
He shrugged. “Is that so bad?”
“You’re annoying, Owens.” She pushed his shoulder.
He mock-pushed her back as he said, “You’re pretty, L/N.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about—”
Y/N scoffed. “Are you about to ask me out?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Okay, good.”
“Would that be so bad of me?”
“Kinda.” Y/N breathed a laugh, but when she saw Tyler’s face, serious and a little upset, she stopped. “I mean, it’s not like we have the best thing going on here anyways, and I just don’t want to be—” She paused, about to say heartbroken, or used, or a placeholder for when you find someone better, but Tyler cut her off.
“Yeah, you’re right.” He started the truck, engine roaring to life. “It was dumb, nevermind. I’ll take you home.”
“Tyler, you know what I meant—”
“Yeah, yeah. We’re just messing around, right? That’s all this is, just messing around.”
He didn’t say another word on the ride home. 
He dropped her off, barely waiting for her to shut the truck door before he drove away.
***
Tyler didn’t answer any of Y/N’s calls or texts for the next few days. Y/N was upset, barely leaving her room checking her phone obsessively for any sign of Tyler Owens. She even started watching his YouTube channel, but there hadn’t been any uploads for over a month. Nothing on Instagram or Facebook, either.
Her mother yelled up the stairs to her one night, calling her down.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Her mom said upon seeing Y/N.
“This is what I always wear. Why?” Y/N was suddenly self conscious, confused as to why her parents cared what she wore in the house.
“Tonight’s the fair,” her mother responded, attempting to jog her memory.
“You’re helping us run our booth?” Her father tried.
“Ah, shit,” Y/N mumbled, remembering. “Do I have to go? I totally forgot.”
“Of course you have to go!” Her father said. “We need the three of us there; it’s a family ranch, remember?”
“Besides,” her mother added. “The Owens’s will be there. We can’t let them get a leg up on us! If you’re not there, Tyler will be running the show for sure.”
“Well, maybe not,” her father said. “He’s doing the kissing booth, remember?”
“The what?” Y/N said. “Tyler’s doing a kissing booth?”
Her father nodded. “To raise funds for his family’s ranch. He and his whole ‘team’ will be there, whatever they’re called.”
Y/N paused for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. Was that what Tyler was trying to talk to her about the other day? The kissing booth? But why would it matter what Y/N thought about it?
Her mother ushered her up the stairs. “For Pete’s sake, change into something nice, and quickly!��
Oh, shit.
***
The Humble Creek Fair was bustling with energy. People from nearby towns came to see what it was all about, and it was always the most popular time of year.
Y/N sat at her family’s booth, eyes peeled for Tyler. She kept checking her phone to see if he’d answered, but when she didn’t get any notifications she decided to take matters into her own hands.
“I’m going for a walk,” she said to her parents.
They both nodded, and her father added, “Make sure to see how the Owens’ booth is doing. I want to make sure we’ll still be in business next year.”
Y/N looked around for the kissing booth, and when she saw a long line of women, she followed it to the front. She walked around to the back of the attraction, but didn’t see Tyler anywhere. It wasn’t until she’d nearly given up entirely when she heard a voice behind her.
“What are you wearing?”
She whisked around, coming face-to-face with Tyler, who was holding some sort of weird meat on a stick.
“What are you eating?”
“Pork leg, fried and marinated in pickle juice,” he said, shrugging. “I’m hoping it’ll make my breath smell bad so less people come up. Now, back to you.”
“What about me?”
“You’re wearing a dress. You never wear dresses. ‘Jeans and a t-shirt, that’s me,’” he says, doing a poor impression of her.
“I don’t sound like that.”
“Yes you do, but that’s besides the point. What’s your deal?”
Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. “I wanted to, I guess.”
Tyler looked at her dead-on. “You look nice, Y/N.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been texting you for days. No response. But now that I’m here, all I get is, ‘I look nice’?” 
“What else do you want from me?”
“An answer, Tyler. What’s your deal? Why didn’t you tell me about the kissing booth?”
“I tried to, but then you came at me with all that ‘this is a bad idea’ crap, and I figured you didn’t want me to tell you. Or you didn’t care if I told you or not.”
“Okay, so—”
“Wait.” He stops her. “Do you care?”
Y/N kicks the ground. “If I did?”
“If you did,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I’d drop the pork leg and kiss you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’d eat the pork leg, and I’d kiss a bunch of people who aren’t you, and I’d feel like shit about it.” He took another step closer to her, nearly closing the gap between them. “Please say you care.”
“Ugh,” she scoffed. “You’re gonna make me say it? You can’t just, like, infer from the situation?”
“I’m really bad at inferring things,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “So, I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”
“You’re annoying, Owens.”
“You’re pretty, L/N. Like, so pretty. But I do need to hear you say it, and I’m also gonna need you to—”
“I care, Tyler. Now shut up and kiss me, or I’m gonna take it back.”
“Can’t take it back, babe. It’s set in stone.”
In one fluid motion, he dropped the pork leg, grabbed Y/N by the waist with his other hand, and pulled her into a kiss. It was deep and passionate, not like any of the other times they’ve kissed. They kept it going for as long as they can, holding their breath until they couldn’t anymore, and then they pulled apart, gasping for air with their foreheads touching.
“Will you go out with me?” He asked her, still struggling for air. “Like, on a real date, not just driving in the truck?”
“I guess,” Y/N said, teasingly. “If I have to.”
“I mean, you don’t have to. But if you do, I’m gonna need you to wear this again.” He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, if that’s even possible. “Because, if I’m being honest, L/N, this is the hottest I’ve ever seen you. Like, I didn’t think you could get hotter, but here we are. Speaking of, can we go? I really want to go somewhere with you. Like, privately.” He winked at her, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.
“Don’t you need to raise money for your farm?” She asked him, gesturing to the booth behind them.
“Fuck the farm,” he said. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy, yeah?”
“Fuck off,” she said, pulling him into another kiss.
“Seriously though, can we go?”
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Text
Surprise
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Summary: Y/n has been keeping a secret from Emily and hasn’t had the opportunity to tell her wife. The secret is revealed not in the way you had hoped but sometimes the unexpected can be perfect.
Warnings: Talks about miscarriages, fertility struggles and pregnancy in general. Small allusion to smut but no actual smut.
Word Count: 1721
A/N: Hello again, it’s been a bit since I’ve posted anything but this is my first Emily Prentiss x reader. This is set when Emily is Unit Chief and won’t follow any specific episode. I hope you all enjoy it :))
—--------------------------------------------
You loved your wife. More than anything else in the world. But since becoming the BAU’s Unit Chief a couple months ago she was a lot busier. Whether it was paperwork or meetings, she had a lot on her plate.
You weren’t mad or upset, if anything you were incredibly proud. But you still missed your wife, even though you worked with her everyday.
You had both adjusted pretty quickly to her new workload and always made sure to spend with one another as much as possible. But this week had been particularly bad. She would mostly be out of the house before you even woke up or leaving as you started to get ready. Then she’d be in her office hours after the team went home.
You knew it was just going to be one of those weeks and you just had be there to support you wife if she needed anything.
You’d been feeling sick all week and at first you had put it down to something you’d ate. But as the week went on, so did the nausea and the body aches.
If it had been a normal week Emily would have noticed immediately. But with how busy she was, she really only saw you when you were in bed or in passing at work.
You hadn’t thought much else about the sickness you had been feeling until yesterday morning. Emily had just left the house when you got up. As you walked towards the kitchen the smell of coffee had set you off and caused you to sprint into the bathroom and empty the contents of your stomach.
That’s when it hit you. You had wrapped a case the week before in Idaho and hadn’t even noticed that your period was late. And not just a little, by almost 2 months. It all started to make sense.
You and Emily have been married for four years and decided that you were both ready to expand your family. You’d both picked out a sperm donor that had similar looks to Emily and had been trying for a baby for months now.
You were lucky to have a positive test come back fairly fast and Emily was ecstatic. The idea of you growing her child inside you made her so happy.
So when you had a doctors appointment to confirm everything, you were both heartbroken to find out that it was a false positive.
That night you had sobbed in Emily’s arms while she too cried and held you tightly to her chest, whispering reassuring words into your ear. You knew that it was only the first try and that it was unlikely to happen anyway. But it still hurt, you were so close.
Since then you had tried multiple times but the test kept coming back negative. It was soul destroying to both of you. You had blamed yourself and thought that there was something wrong with your body. Emily made sure to reassure you that it wasn’t but it was still hard.
So you tried not to get too excited while waiting for the pregnancy tests that sat on the counter. The happiness that flooded your body when all three came up positive was overwhelming and the tears started running.
But there’s was still something in the back of your mind that told you that it wasn’t real and it was just more false positives.
Luckily you didn’t start until 10am and had plenty of time to book a last minute blood test. The joy you felt when it confirmed what you and Emily had been hoping for was one of the greatest feelings.
Now you just had to figure out the best way to tell your wife. As it was now Friday and finally the end of the week, you thought that it was the perfect night to tell her. And frankly you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it in.
You had sneaked out and bought a cute little onesie and planned on leaving it on your bed with the positive pregnancy tests. It was a simple idea but that’s all you wanted.
You were barely able to focus on your work all day and swore the day couldn’t have gone any slower. As the team slowly started filtering out and wishing you a good weekend you started to get anxious.
Emily was still in her office doing paperwork and was so focused she didn’t even realise the team had left.
Making your way up to her office you knocked and slipped in without waiting for an answer. Emily’s head shot up ready to reprimand someone for entering her office without permission. But the moment her eyes me yours her entire face softened.
“Hey baby” she said as you made your way around her desk to stand in front of her. “Everything okay?”
“Yea, I just miss my wife” you smiled leaning down to peck her lips.
Emily smiled into the kiss and you could feel tension start to leave her body at the small contact.
“Well I miss you more” she pulled you down to straddle her lap. Her arms snake around your waist pulling you closer and her hands start to rub soothing circles on your lower back. Instinctively your arms found there way around her neck and you fingers gently played with the hair at the back of her neck.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been home much this week.”
“It’s okay” you cut in before she can apologise any more. “I get it, you’ve got a job to do and not every week is like this week. It will get better. Plus I know you’ll make it up to me later”
She sees the smirk on your face and her hands move to squeeze your hips.
“Oh I promise I will, you can count on it” she smirks back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m pretty much done here if you’re ready to head home?”
“That sounds amazing” you smile tightly getting a rush of nerves at the thought of the onesie laying on your bed at home.
“Hey, you okay baby?” Emily of course notices your body language change immediately. Concern laces her face and her brows furrow. “Did something happen?”
“No of course not” your too quick to reassure her. “Well, sort of but nothing for you to worry about”
You really should have just left the last part off but you’re practically bursting wanting to tell her.
“What do you mean? Did someone say something to you?”
“Babe, no one said anything”
“Well something happened, I’m not gonna stop worrying until you tell me what it is” her hand moves to caress your cheek and you can’t help but lean into her touch. God she was your weakness. “Talk to me baby”
“Em…”
“Is this about my workload, cause I meant what I said. I’m sorry about this week, I just-”
“Emily, it’s not about this week. I told you I get it”
“Well then what is it? I can tell somethings off”
“Em it’s about us”
“The two of us?” Her face is full of confusion which quickly turns to concern for your relationship.
“The three of us” you place her hand on top of your stomach and cover it with your own. “I’m pregnant baby”
“You’re pregnant?” You swear you can feel her heart stop for a brief moment.
“I’m pregnant” you confirm tears forming in your eyes.
For a moment you’re unsure of her reaction, she just sits there stunned. It definitely wasn’t the news she was expecting.
Before you can think much more about it here lips are on yours as she gives you a loving and passionate kiss. She pulls your body impossibly closer as tears start to stream down her face.
She pulls back to look at you, her hand and yours still resting against your stomach.
“I love you so much” she kisses you again.
“I love you too”
“When did you find out? Please tell me you haven’t been holding out on me for too long because of work”
“I only found out yesterday morning, I was feeling sick all week but I didn’t think much of it” her smile never disappears as you talk. “I didn’t even realise I was late until yesterday too. So I took a bunch of tests and they all came back positive.”
“And they’re not-”
“No” you interrupt her before any more doubt can flood her mind. “I got a last minute blood test yesterday too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first but I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it was another false positive”
“Oh honey, you could have told me anyway” her face softens. “We’re in this together, remember?”
“I know, I just wanted it to be perfect when I told you” you gesture with your hand “this is not the way I planned on telling you. There’s a onesie sitting on our bed at home”
“This was perfect” she reassures you leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.
“I’m almost seven weeks” you see her smile grow. “You know I’m surprised you haven’t noticed yet, my boobs are already getting bigger.”
Her eyes flick down to your breasts and her lips twitch into a smirk.
“You know considering how much you love to touch them” you giggle.
“Well they are magnificent” she defends reaching to give them a gentle squeeze making you moan lightly. “God I love you, thank you for carrying our child and making us moms”
“I’d do it twenty times if it made you happy” you smile. “Okay maybe not twenty but you know what I mean”
“I know baby” she laughs. “You wanna head home now? Show me that onesie you bought?”
“That sounds perfect” you hop off her lap and intertwine your hand with hers as she stands. “You know I’m a little sore, I could do with a bubble bath with my wife”
“I think that can be arranged” she smiles leaning in to captures your lips.
—--------------------------------------------
102 notes · View notes
bahablastplz · 3 days
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All in | Chapter 15
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pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)
summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?
chapter summary: Chan has thought up a punishment for you that doesn't really help your mental state; someone thinks of a plan to help.
chapter warnings: smut! unprotected sex
warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings.
series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist
Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 
That’s the sound you get accustomed to a few times throughout the day. It’s Chan, unlocking the door to let himself in. Every time he brings in a tray of food for the two of you to eat, and most of the time you pick at it but you can’t find too much of an appetite. 
The first few times, you don’t talk to Chan at all. You’re completely silent, looking out at the forest through the barred window. Occasionally you would watch his mannerisms or react when he moves something a little bit too loud. Other than that, you make it a point not to speak at all. That’s how it started, at least. 
Each time a few hours pass in total isolation, you slowly become more and more stir crazy. Mostly, you look out the window. Sometimes, you do situps and pushups or practice the self-defense exercises that Changbin and Felix had taught you until exhaustion. You take a few naps. You take a shower. You finish the latest book that Hyunjin let you borrow. Chan visits you for dinner. You do not speak with him, eat your meal in silence, and watch as he leaves. You go to sleep for the night with an empty, hollow and rotting sensation in your chest that you have never experienced before. It might be anger directed towards Chan, but also an empty feeling knowing that you are unable to see Felix, who is in the same house as you. You wonder if he feels the same as you right now. 
Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 
You wake up to the sound of Chan unlocking your door in the morning with breakfast. You break your silent treatment, finally, though probably more out of boredom than anything else. You only respond to his small talk, tell him that the food is alright. 
The longer increments of time that would pass, the more anger you would find bubbling in your chest. 
“Do you really expect to keep me locked here forever?” you snap at one point. You have just finished rereading The Stranger by Albert Camus for the third time. “You know that’s how people start to lose their minds? Is that what this is? A torture device? Or is it still a sick, twisted ploy to get me to fall in love with you?” you walk around the room, pacing. Your hands are strung through your hair haphazardly as you let out a laugh. “Some sort of Stockholm syndrome to the extreme? You already fucking tried that, Chan! I’m stuck in this house with you, I can’t leave, and it didn’t work. What is your plan here?”
He blinks at you, sitting on your bed and crossing his arms across his chest. “I don’t know.” 
“You… you don’t know?” 
He chuckles and you feel your blood begin to boil. “Well, I mean, I don’t know how long I plan to keep you here. At least until the Heeseung drama boils down. Until I feel confident that Felix is just as broken down about this as you are? I mean, it’s the point of a punishment, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh. “Obviously I know you aren’t going to fall in love with me right now, not like this, yeah? But the thought of you and Felix, it’s so wrong, y’know? So I gotta nip it in the bud.” 
You blink away a tear but wipe it away quicker than he can see. You won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see you cry. 
“I hate you,” you spit. When Chan stands, he closes the distance between the two of you. He swipes a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“You might want to watch your mouth for now, especially when you’re the one who’s not in control,” he coos. “If you want to start getting your privileges back, you might want to consider upping the sweet talk.” He leaves as a chill racks through your body and the door slams shut, lock clicking into place behind him. 
You’re not quite sure about *sweet talking*, per say, but you suppose you could calm it down with Chan for now in order to get things back to the way they were. It’s really hard, with the way your anger bubbles every time he enters the room, every additional hour that passes. You start to feel delirious, depressed with nothing much to do, sleeping far too much and eating far too little. 
The flowers start to wilt. 
The flowers that Chan had given you for your date. You don’t even know how long ago that was at this point, feeling a bit too disoriented. You watch over days as the petals start to turn brown, curling up into themselves and falling to the floor. It’s only once every flower has finally turned to black that you convince Chan to let you leave your room. 
It’s only to Hyunjin’s room that he lets you go at first. He supervises your visit. You sit on the corner of Hyunjin’s bed and you sit and talk, nodding politely when he speaks. He updates you on Seungmin’s condition, shows you his newest painting (which is stunning beyond belief), and talks about his latest venture to the bookstore. It’s more than he’s ever talked to you at once, and you’re sure he’s doing it because he knows the effects that the isolation has had on your head, but you appreciate it more than he could ever imagine. 
Chan checks his wrist watch, clearing his throat. He tells you it’s almost time for you to go and you can’t help the panicked feeling that bubbles in your chest. You know that Hyunjin notices it too, the frantic look in your eye as you look to him for help, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You wonder if he and Chan got into a disagreement about it, if anybody besides Felix had the gall to stand up to him about your circumstance but it’s unlikely. 
As Chan guides you out, Hyunjin remembers something, handing you a new book as if it were an afterthought. A brand new copy of Wuthering Heights is placed into your hands. 
“I think you’ll really like this one,” Hyunjin muses. “I hope we get a chance to talk about it soon. I purchased this at that bookstore I was telling you about. Let me take you there one day, okay?” 
You smile at him. A true, genuine, smile before Chan takes you back to your room for dinner. Feeling a little more hopeful, you eat more than usual and talk to him more than yesterday. You think he’s expecting you to thank him. You don’t. He wishes you a good evening before he locks you in your room for the evening. 
Something about Hyunjin’s words had struck you as odd. “I hope we get to talk about it soon.” Since you moved in and Hyunjin had started giving you new books to read, although he was always very sure of himself in his choices, you had never really talked about your choices. Even today during your conversation you didn’t talk about Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which you had read a whopping four times since your isolation.
This is why you’re not as surprised when you open the book and you find a note, wedged neatly between page eight and page nine. It’s not Hyunjin’s handwriting, but Felix’s. You can’t help it when your heart picks up and beats against your chest, a smile against your face despite yourself. 
‘Dear Sunshine,
I am so sorry for everything. Each day that I have not been able to see you and that I have known that you have been behind those doors has been Hell for me, as I’m sure they’ve been Hell for you as well. Let me take you far, far, away from this place if you would let me.
If you will take me, if you want this as much as I do, let us leave tonight. Leave your bathroom light on tonight and I will know that it will be okay for us to make our escape. 
Love, LF.’ 
Are you really reading this correctly? 
It was the first night here that Chan took off his belt and whipped you with it just for leaving when he told you not to leave. What would the punishment be if you and Felix were caught? You knew the answer, and you found yourself grimacing as you thought about it. If Chan found out that you and Felix had escaped—and you had a very, very short window of time before he came looking for you, until breakfast tomorrow—he would surely kill the two of you in cold blood.
Felix, was he really to risk it all for you? No questions asked? You knew you were. 
Turning off all lights in your room, leaving just your bathroom light on for the signal and to light up your path, you get ready. You throw on some clothes, a pair of thick socks and a pair of sneakers, athletic pants and a t-shirt underneath a hoodie. You try to dress both light-weight but also warm, easy for mobility in case you have to do some running. And you take a quick nap, since it’s still light out and you’re sure that the plan won’t take place until after nightfall and you should probably be well-rested. 
You’re right. You wake up a few hours later and it’s dark outside. Felix still hasn’t shown yet. You sit right by your door and wait for him. You wait and wait and wait, your heart beating so heavily out of your chest it might explode. You literally have to calm yourself down with breathing exercises several times because you find yourself so worked up. You can’t help it–you’re so nervous about seeing him again, and about the escape, about his plans, though you’re sure he has something planned out. 
After some time has passed, you almost wonder if maybe he isn’t going to show, but you laugh at that thought. It’s Felix. Of course he’s going to show. You have never met someone more true to his word and dedicated. You just hope that everything is going according to plan. And sure enough?
Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 
Light from the hallway spills into your room, encasing the darkness that surrounded you. When you jump to your feet, Felix pulls you in for a very chaste kiss. His name spills silently from your lips and you see him smile before grabbing your hand, pulling you into a silent run down the hallway. You can already tell that there is going to be a long night ahead of you, though you’re relieved when Felix leads you to a mundane car, a dark mini-van, and you can’t help but think thank god we aren’t literally running away. 
You hurriedly get into the passenger seat, Felix the driver’s seat, and the two of you drive away. You watch as the house gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror behind you until it completely disappears, and most of your anxiety along with it. 
“You came for me.” you say finally. 
“Of course I did,” Felix says, his voice soft. “I just had to work out the logistics. I’m so so incredibly sorry it took me that long. I hope you can forgive me.” 
“It’s really happening?” you ask him. “We’re really leaving?” 
Felix only smiles. “I did everything I could. I was even able to get your sister out of your house, I sent her somewhere safe where Chan can’t find her to retaliate.”
“Thank you, Felix,” you say, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Really, really, thank you.” 
He reaches over the center console and grabs your hand, bringing it to his face to kiss along your knuckles. 
“You have no need to thank me. This is my escape too. In reality, I owe you just as much.” Your heart squeezes at his words. You don’t really understand the weight behind his words but you hope that he will open up to you about them one day. About his past and his history with Chan. You stare at Felix, at the way the passing headlights illuminate his face and accentuate his features, and you just sit there and watch and watch, drinking him in and hoping that you will never have to let him go again. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You’re expecting to arrive at some sort of hotel/motel, similar to the one you and Felix had shared after the night at the gala. What you weren’t expecting was an apartment building, at least ten stories tall in the middle of a city a few hours away. 
Felix parks the car, a protective hand around your waist the whole walk to the building. He holds you so close you find it almost difficult to walk. The elevator takes you up to the eighth floor, where Felix leads you down the hall. The building looks well-kept, maintained inside, contrasting from its run-down exterior. 
Felix leans over the door, typing a code into the keypad. It swings open revealing a large furnished studio apartment. 
“This place looks really nice,” you admit. “It is a step-up from the motel. How did you…” 
“Chan isn’t the only one that has his connections,” Felix says, sighing as he throws a backpack down next to him. He closed the door behind him, locking it. He walks around the apartment several times, making sure that every window is locked and secure as well. “It’s safe here. We should be able to stay here for a few days before we need to pick up again. But this place is completely alarmed and equipped with security codes. He won’t find us here, okay?” 
“Okay,” you nod. You really do trust him. You feel safe. 
“The password for the front door is 0325,” Felix tells you. You don’t know why that action alone makes you want to tear up. You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re really free. 
“Thank you,” you tell him, shucking your hoodie off of your body. You don’t miss the way his eyes rack over your frame at the way your shirt picks up slightly. How does he still manage to make you blush? “How did you get the code for my door?” you ask him. You had been wondering about it for a while, as there was no way that Chan had given it to him. 
“Hyunjin told me,” Felix discloses. “He was the only other person besides Chan that knew the code, in case of an emergency or if Chan was away and he needed to give you food.” 
“He was the only one?” you ask. “But that means… Won’t Chan know that Hyunjin…” 
“Hyunjin has already come to terms with things,” Felix says remorsefully. “I didn’t want it to go down like this either, but Hyunjin really was willing to make a sacrifice for you. For both of us. Nothing horrible is going to happen–he isn’t going to be killed, but I’m sure the punishment will be brutal.” 
You shake your head, unwilling to believe his words. “I can’t believe Hyunjin would do that for us. I really thought he was loyal to Chan.” 
“At the end of the day there must have been something he found more important to put his trust in,” he smiles. “I think he realized how bad your mental state was after spending over a week in that room.” 
“It was over a week?” you nearly cry. Felix holds you tight to his chest. You don’t cry–you’ve already come to terms with what has happened. When you pull apart, you look into his eyes and find that he has tears of his own that have started to build up. Now that is something that you had not anticipated. 
“I’m sorry–” he starts to say, but you crash your lips into his instead. Your hands pull into his hair and you push your body into his, do anything you can to get your body as inhumanly close to his as possible, so that you can feel every touch of his skin against yours. 
Felix’s hands wander underneath your hoodie, tugging off the material and throwing it to the floor in a desperate show. His hands roam your body, his lips never once leaving your skin. This time he makes it a show to suck a mark into any available surface, licking and sucking dark purples and pinks into your neck, collarbones, shoulders, breasts–any area of skin that was once pristine now has Felix’s claim on it. 
“You’re mine, do you understand? You’re mine and I’m yours.” 
“Yes, Felix, yes,” you agree, letting him push you back against the bed. He towers over you for a second, dropping to his knees onto the floor so that he can pull off the material of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to. You push your thighs together, utterly exposed in front of him but also so aroused by his stare and he grabs your thighs, pushing them apart. 
“Beautiful,” he comments. You throw an arm over your face, embarrassed by his comment. “Don’t hide from me, angel,” he says, kissing the insides of your thighs. “You’re mine, right? Can I compliment what’s mine? You’re not going to hide away what’s mine, hmm?” When you don’t immediately answer him, your chest rising and falling rapidly from his words, you feel a slight pinch come from inside your thigh. You look down at his mischievous face to realize he has just lightly slapped your inner thigh to get a response. 
“N-no, Felix,” you moan. 
“No, what?” he teases, his mouth going higher and higher still, his breath right above your center but waiting. 
“No, I’m not going to hide from you. Yes, you can compliment me,” you reply.
“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he groans. “Prove it, then. Open those legs wide for me.” And you do. You spread your legs as far as they would go and Felix rewards you by immediately diving in, his tongue lapping at your clit like a man starved. As much as your thighs tremble and shake and threaten to close, you don’t let them. Your eyes stay on Felix, and his eyes on yours. 
Suddenly, Felix pulls away with a pop. 
“What–”
He climbs onto the bed and lays down, leaving you utterly confused before he grabs you by the waist, manhandling you effortlessly by the waist onto his face. 
“Felix, what are you doing?” 
“I want you to sit on my face,” he responds, his hands caressing your thighs as if trying to coax you down to properly take your seat. 
“Are you sure? I–”
“Please, just, use me. Make yourself cum, and then I’ll fuck you open on my cock.” You can’t deny how appealing his words sound, and he had already worked you up just seconds ago so you can’t find the resolve to protest much longer. Eagerly, you sit. His tongue prods your entrance, pushing in as far as it will go. You rock yourself back and forth on his face, your clit occasionally catching on his nose, and you find Felix’s hands taking place on your ass to help you find your pace. 
Once you build up a rhythm you ride him in earnest, like nothing matters but him beneath you right now and your climax building up. He knows you’re close when he feels your thighs clench tighter around your head and your back starts to arch back, and your noises have become louder. You do exactly what he told you to do–you use him for your pleasure until you’re having one of the longest, most drawn-out orgasms of your life. 
When you finally crawl off of him, Felix wastes no time before flipping your positions, making your stomach turn with butterflies. He pulls his pants off in one swift motion and you take a moment to look at him in awe, to really just appreciate him and his beautifully toned body despite seeing it a few times before. 
You watch as he strokes his cock a few times, his eyes fixated on your pussy. He pushes forward, and just to tease–intentionally catches the head of it on your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. 
“Felix!” your hips buck up, your legs wrap around him, doing anything you can just to get him to enter you properly. 
“Do you want me that bad?” he asks with a smile, his voice a low timbre in your ear. 
“Yes, Felix, stop fucking teasing me, you know I want you–” and with that, he pushes right into you, fully sheathing himself in one thrust. Your hands come up to push crescent fingernail indents into his shoulders, just to ground yourself from the overwhelming sensation. 
Felix wastes no time before fucking you like he really means it, his hips pulling out to meet yours flush each time. The way his hips roll in a fluid motion into yours has you crying out, wrapping your legs around him. 
“Fuck, you’re clenching me so tight,” he pants. “I’m going to cum soon, baby. Where do you want it?” 
You wrap your legs even tighter around him. 
His hand snakes up to your neck, just placing it there, not even squeezing but it still causes you to cry out with a moan that is borderline pornagraphic. 
“You’re being so dirty, baby. Are you trying to tell me something? You want me to cum inside? Because you’re going to have you use your words to tell me that or else it’s not gonna happen,” he grins. 
His hips snap into yours so hard it’s almost bruising, but you’re so close to your second orgasm that you think you could fall over the edge any second. 
“FELIX,” you finally cry out. You’re sure the scratches you’re leaving into his back are going to leave marks, if not bleed. 
“Fuck, you gotta tell me now.” 
“Inside! Inside! I want you to cum inside, fuck, I love you Felix, please!” you sob. 
He kisses you. Rather, his lips smash into yours so hard you’re not sure what is happening, but you’re cumming so hard it’s blinding. You can feel him still as he fills you up with warm ropes of his cum. 
When you both finally come down, Felix flops beside you and you immediately curl into his chest. He embraces you, his hands stroking unknown symbols into your skin. 
“Did you mean it?” he finally asks. 
You don’t have to ask what he’s referring to. “Yes,” you reply. “I think I’ve known it for a long time.”
“I love you, too.” Felix tells you, grabbing your chin so that he can press another kiss into your lips. “You mean the world to me.” 
That night, Felix looks around the apartment again, making sure that everything is in its place. When you see that there is both a couch and a bed, you make a joke about sleeping on the couch that causes him to quite literally pick you up and throw you into bed with him. You fall asleep like that, intertwined in his arms, not worried about accidentally getting caught and what the consequences might be tomorrow. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You toss and turn. Images plague your mind. A guilt-ridden feeling plagues your gut. 
Minho, who gets anxiety on missions, who wanted to get away from his family and the life of crime from his childhood, but couldn’t let Jisung go alone for fear of what Chan would do to him.
Changbin, who has only wanted to protect his family, but instead Chan has held that over his head.
Hyunjin, who didn’t really know how to find himself after being told who to be, who didn’t know what to do with his life, exploited by Chan. 
Jisung, who has never had anybody tell him that he is good for more than shooting things and a life of violent crime, and had Chan take advantage of that. 
Seungmin, who had only one dream and had it taken away through an injury, was falsely promised by Chan that one day he could get the surgery and recover to play baseball again. 
Jeongin, who turned to a life of crime but was told he could have the money to go to fashion school, all if he would become Chan’s lackey. 
Even Felix, who you’re sure has been through something just as horrible, though he hasn’t told you yet… 
At the end of the day, there’s one common factor in all of this evil. 
You know that you can’t stay here and live a fantasy life, where you get to escape and be free while the rest of them are trapped there and still living in a nightmare. At the end of the day, you have started to develop close relationships with each and every one of them, and you can’t bring yourself to think more about the horrors that Chan continues to inflict on them each day while you get to run away with Felix. 
Picking up Felix’s arm, you kiss him on the head. You feel very remorseful for what you’re about to do, for the amount of mental anguish you are probably about to put him in when everything was finally going to go your way. You wish you could have relished in this a little bit longer. 
Opening up the bedside table, you grab Felix’s car keys and his gun. 
This has to end, and it has to end now. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
a/n: we're getting close to the end! two main chapters and two mini chapters left!! sorry for the delay today guys, I only had this chapter half written i wrote the rest in a coffee shop lol <3
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kurosagi-h8r · 2 days
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Rain of Affection
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Character: Alan Mido x reader
Summary: Trapped under the same tent during your camping, you had no choice but to seek warmth from each other under the sudden rainstorm.
tw/cw: just kissing. a bit slowburn maybe. grammatical error might exist
word count: 1340
The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and pine. The rain drops pouring down the tent like bullets made it difficult for you to hear anything else. It was soothing, in a way. But it put you in an awkward situation where you had no choice but to be stuck in the same small tent as your camping mate.
"I'm so sorry for making your tent wet, Mido..." You tried to hide the way your lip quivered from the cold. The jacket that was once protecting you from the rain is now dropping water on the floor.
"Take off your jacket. You'll catch a cold if you keep wearing that." He's sitting awkwardly in front of you, trying to make himself small to give you more space inside. Still, being the one carrying most of the supplies and gear, he had to carry them back in his own tent because of the sudden rain.
You're reluctant to take it off but he was right. You couldn't even hide your shivers anymore. "Maybe later... all of my stuff is outside, you see." Left outside under your unmade tent. You didn't even have the chance to bring it with you inside — not that there's any space left inside Mido's.
He awkwardly inched closer to you — even without doing that you could feel his breath on your skin. Flustered, your first instinct was to lean back, however you were met with bags of his stuff. His hand reached to grab something and you swore his shoulder almost touched you. You even caught a whiff of wood scent on him, most likely from gathering branches for the fire.
"Wear mine," He said.
You stared at the jacket on his hand. "But what about you...?"
“You need it more than me.” Alan sounded rather quiet compared to the sound of rainfall on top of him. “And we don’t know how long the heavy rain will last.”
Again, he was right. He knew more about camping better than you were, of course. You complied and took off your jacket. Some of the water at the hem of your sleeve left your skin freezing. Then Alan took your jacket and folded it to be put away elsewhere.
His jacket was thicker than yours, perfect for camping. Although the difference in size made you drown in it. Your hands could barely show themselves, but it made it easier for you to warm yourself. Looking at him, sitting in front of you wearing only a t-shirt that’s half drenched… won’t he also freeze himself like that? Even if he were, he clearly didn’t show it.
“Aren’t you also cold?” you asked. “I feel bad for having this all to myself…”
“You’re the one more drenched here, (y/n).” And you did. All because you weren’t that good in setting up your own tent. You couldn’t possibly ask him for help with that too on top of the pile of work he insisted on shouldering.
“Still…”
Alan was sitting with his legs crossed beside you, not looking particularly anywhere – for some reason you hope he's not trying to avoid looking at you. But sometimes you do wonder what he's thinking at the moment… because it's getting pretty awkward with just the two of you, unable to go anywhere with the heavy rain happening outside. So you decide to be the one to break the silence.
“Mido… what do you usually do to stay warm?”
That five seconds of another silence felt humiliating. Was it a weird question? Anyone can ask that, right? But if you hear it again, it feels like you were trying to suggest something. Oh God, what if he feels uncomfortable answering it…
As you were about to apologize to him, he responded with, “Exercise. But we can’t exactly do that right now.”
“Ah…” you nodded. It was expected from him. “That's one way to do it.”
Exercising was out of the option. You needed to look for another way so that he wouldn't freeze himself, because giving back his jacket was also not going to happen, he would pull out other excuses to refuse.
Then it came to you…
“We can sit closer…” in a normal situation, you would've wanted to hide yourself from embarrassment. “I can't let you freeze yourself, Mido. Please?”
He stayed quiet for a few seconds. “There’s no option for me to say no, is there?”
A smile tugged at your lips. You scooted closer to him, attempting to embrace him, trying your best to not make things even more awkward than it already has. His body went rigid upon feeling your breath on his skin, his mind was screaming for him to back away but your warmth… Alan couldn’t help but find himself starting to melt to your touch.
“Alan,” you said softly.
He swore it went straight to his heart. You shouldn’t have let his name roll off your tongue like that. What blush was to appear on his face and you had to witness that? What if his heart beats a little too loud that you could hear them? So close to your ears like how close you were that you could count his lashes.
“Can I maybe…”
“Hm?”
“Can I put my head on your shoulder… please?”
Before Alan could react, a sound of thunder roaring not so far frightened you; making you jump at your seat– accidentally pulling him tighter in your embrace. You were trembling all over and his body confirmed it. To think that seconds ago he was only thinking about his own pride and honor…
Alan – not wanting to frighten you even more – carefully wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him as he whispered in your ear, “It’s alright…”
His touches, albeit too rigid in fear of hurting you, brought you the comfort you needed. His hand soothing you on your back, and the other covering your ear from the loud noise. All you could hear was each other’s breathing, and each breath made you feel drowsy. In that moment all you wanted was to drown deeper in his embrace and never wake up.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked.
Thinking that he’s giving you a sign, you immediately put some space between you and him. But his hold on your back couldn’t get you far from him. “I’m sorry! I-i think I’m good now.”
His soft gaze was fixed on yours. “You sure?” 
The realization sent blood rushing to your face. His face was so close – too close that your nose almost touched. Did he ask me something? To be able to utter any word would be a blessing but your ability to talk seemed to jump out of the tent the moment your eyes locked.
Alan, with all the courage he had, “Y/n.”
“Yes…?”
He’s not sure whether you said something or not just now. Not with you looking up at him and your hair between his fingers. The voices in his head were whispering things to him. Telling him that he should let himself go and feel his fingertips against your skin; that he should do something with how lonely your lips were. You needed more warmth. So let him be your warmth.
‘Please don’t hate me for this,’ was what he wanted to say before he listened to his demons.
“I’m sorry, y/n.”
And then the rainstorm stopped. The world to your senses was no longer thunder in the sky, or the scent of wet dirt, or even the piercing cold in your bones. All you could feel was… Alan. His trembling lips on yours, his hand on the back of your head, the heat spreading through your body.
Your world had become him.
Everything became Alan. You see him when you close your eyes, you taste him at the tip of your tongue, drowning yourself in him and all his desire to have you.
And there’s nothing you want but to seek deeper, into the depth of his affection.
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yelenasdiary · 2 days
Note
Hi how about an enemy to lovers with Yelena were in their last mission they somehow get handcuffed to each other and until the team can get them off they are off duty and having to deal with eachother (their feelings)
Cuffin' Season
Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader
Summary: You and Yelena find yourselves in a situation neither of you want to be in
Angst, Fluff
Warnings: Language Warning | 1.8K
AC: Thank you for sending this! Sorry it took so long; please ignore the cringe title lmao! I hope you enjoy it! x
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You groaned, throwing your head back against the wall. Yelena sighed heavily, for the last 20 minutes or so, the two of you have been trying to escape a from each other. Yelena still trying to wrap her head around how on earth the target tricked you both and was able to keep you both hostage, not the classic tried to a chair with duct tape across your lips. No, this was the worst kind of being kept hostage. 
“Stop tugging!” Yelena said, rolling her eyes. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, does that hurt? Is being tugged by the fucking wrist hurt the tough Russian spy?” You snapped in frustration. “You know, if it wasn’t for Natasha needing Kate, she’d be the one hand cuffed to you and I wouldn’t be sitting here wishing THEY WOULD KILL ME ALREADY!” You added, yelling out to your kidnappers. 
“They’re not going to kill us” Yelena said. 
“I wish they would!” 
“Alright, what the hell is your problem?” Yelena snapped, looking to you. “What do you mean? You’re the one with the problem” you argued. 
Yelena cocked a brow, “you think I’m the one with the problem? You’ve never liked me; you can’t even stand to be in the same room with me” she replied watching you try to squeeze your hand out of the handcuff. “Nope, that’s all you, spy! I’ve never been nothing by nice to you, but I guess you’re too high and mighty to see that and now thanks to you, we’re trapped and I’m probably going to die handcuffed to you”
“Thanks to me?” Yelena frowned, “do you hear yourself right now? You’re the one the fell for the damn trap. I followed you to stop you, don’t you remember that? Probably not because you can’t do any wrong!” She added causing you to stop your actions and look at her with anger in your eyes. 
“You want to do this now? Right now? Instead of trying to escape you want to play the damn blame game?!” 
“If the shoe fits, why not” Yelena spat. 
“Agh! You’re so unbearable! I can’t believe you think this is my fault! You’re the one who told me to go ahead, it’s like you knew this was going to happen” you argued. 
“I was talking to Kate! I had to wait for you to shut your pipe hole for a second so she could finish her sentence, I said “go ahead, Kate” Yelena corrected you, your mind having a small flash back to that moment. You were so annoyed that you had been paired with the one person who hated you the most that you when you heard her say ‘go ahead’ you took it as her giving you instructions. 
Silence fell, you rolled your eyes once more at the blonde before trying yet another pointless attempt to set yourself free. “Seriously, stop tugging!” Yelena tugged her left wrist, pulling your right wrist to her. 
“Ouch!” You groaned at the pain, before tugging back. Yelena took a deep breath to keep herself from exploding over your childlike behavior, the two of you hated being cuffed together, if anything, this was the most that the two of you had ever spoken to one another. When you first met Yelena, she gave you a similar vibe that Natasha did when you first met her, so you just assumed it would be a little bit of work to break the widow and the two of you would get along after but no, not Yelena. You’ve been on two other missions with her in the past, both missions went quick and rather smoothly but again, such little conversation was ever exchanged between you both. 
Outside of work, Yelena simply made it obvious to you that she wasn’t a fan of you. So naturally, you stopped trying to win the assassin over and found yourself giving her the same cold vibe she would give you. It made things harder given that you were both great friends of Kate’s and the poor archer hated seeing her two closest friends hating one another. But what you didn’t know was the little secret that Yelena had let slip to Kate one night after a few too many shots of Vodka. 
As time passed, you and Yelena sat in silence. Both of you quietly tried to work out a plan to get out of the situation you were in but neither of you wanted to bring your ideas to the table first. “If we work together, we can get out of here” Yelena says with a light sigh, breaking the silence. 
“What do you think I’ve tried to do this entire mission?” You replied, not trying to snap back at her but her comment slightly annoyed you. “You just hate working with me” you added. 
Yelena looked over at you, “how about once we get out of here, we never have to work together again” she says in a calm tone. 
“Perfect! Can’t wait” you gave her a fake smile before her eyes quickly turned to the banging sound of guns outside the door. The two of you instantly went into fight or flight, just waiting for whatever was going to happen come through that door. 
You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Natasha standing in the doorway with a cocked brow, Kate standing slightly behind her. “Well, don’t you two look cozy” Nat commented, earning herself a death stare from her sister. “Have you got the keys?” You asked, ignoring the comment from the older widow. 
“I’ll go find them” you heard Kate say before rushing off. Natasha stood still with a growing smirk as she looked at the two of you, “which one of you wants to tell me how this happened?” She asked before letting out a chuckle. 
“Shut up!” Yelena spat. 
----
Back at the compound, free from being cuffed to Yelena, you just sat down on the edge of your bed, letting out a heavy sigh as you rubbed the handcuff markings on your wrist. Your mind replaying everything that had happened on the mission, trying to work out if you were the one that put you and Yelena in that situation or if it was just a case of bad lucky. Did you the two of you let your hatred for one another get in the way of a mission or was it something much more than that? These thoughts circled your mind until you heard a knock at your bedroom door. 
You opened it only to see Yelena standing there, “can I help you?” You asked kindly although Yelena was the last person you wanted to see right now. 
“Can I come in?” She asked taking you by surprise. You nodded and opened the door wider for her to enter. She walked in and noticed the little things about your room layout, where your perfume sat on a shelf, how neatly your close were hanging in your opened closet, your favorite movie as a poster on one of the walls, all these little things she smiled softly to herself about. 
“If you’re come to give me a lecture about the mission, I won’t want to hear it” you said as you wandered over to your dresser to apply some cream to your hands and wrists. Yelena turned around to face you, “I didn’t come here to lecture you. I came here to tell you that I don’t hate you” she replied. You frowned slightly as you looked back at her, “you don’t?” You questioned. 
Yelena shook her head, “I’ve never hated you” 
“T-then why you act like you do?” 
Yelena took a deep breath and took a seat at the end of your bed, placing her hands in her lap before she looked up at you once more. “I told Kate what happened today, and she said it would be best if I just come clean to you” she started. 
“Clean to me?” You questioned. 
“I don’t hate you, in fact, it’s the opposite to hate” 
Her reply only added to your confusion, “so you what? Dislike me? Or is it you can tolerate me?” You asked. It was your words that quickly told Yelena that this wasn’t going how she thought it would and quickly tried to fix it before this would escalate into yet another argument. 
“Try, I have feelings for you” she replied, her eyes slightly dropping to your feet. Her confession took you back, not once did you ever think that Yelena’s behavior towards you was because she had possible feelings for you. “I know it’s probably not what you expected but putting Kate’s advice aside for a moment, after today and the way we talked to one another wasn’t okay. I didn’t know that’s how you felt until today. I didn’t think that I was giving you the impression that I hated you” she paused as you slowly rubbed the cream into your skin while listening to her continue. 
“I’ve never looked at somebody and have my heart skip a beat, I’ve never heard somebody talk to me and wish they would never stop, I’ve never had somebody smile at me and that make me nervous. I guess I was so cold to you because I didn’t know how to be around you so I guess I thought that if I was distant with you that I wouldn’t feel these things, but I spoke to Kate and she told me that what I feel is okay” she went on. 
You wandered over to her and sat beside her, “well, I can say I’m so glad that you came to me. I thought I was going mad” you looked to her, “you’re not the only one who has feelings in this” you added.
Yelena’s eyes lit up, “do you mean y-“ 
You nodded before she could finish her question, “I don’t like the saying ‘if they’re mean to you it’s because they like you’ but I guess it has some kind of truth” you added, making you both chuckle. Gently, you took Yelena’s left hand into yours, “we don’t have to act on these feelings if you don’t want too or not ready, I don’t ever want to push you” you assured her. 
“Being handcuffed to you has been the highlight of my week, I would like to explore these feelings more, but it needs to be slowly” Yelena replies. You couldn’t help but smile softly at her, “we have all the time in the world, there is no need to rush anything”
You noticed Yelena blush a little at your words and you swore, if you could, you’d kiss her right then and there but you wanted this to work and right now, you were finally able to see a side of Yelena you wish you saw sooner.
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quaithe-seastar · 12 hours
Text
Let The Light In
Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader
Summary: You try to help Aemond relax when the world outside your shared bedroom becomes too much for him to handle.
Warnings: slight angst & fluff
A/N: This fic is incredibly self-indulgent, as I am deeply infatuated with Aemond's hair. No beta, so I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes!
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The soothing, gentle sound of crackling wood from the fireplace echoed in the air. The shadows of the flames danced along the walls of your and Aemond’s shared bedchamber. Lately, though, it seems like it’s just yours. Your husband had decided to sleep in his own private quarters for the past week. Something that perturbed you deeply. 
This week has been filled with the most restless nights you've had in years, leaving you thoroughly exhausted. You had grown quite accustomed to sleeping in Aemond’s strong arms. The two of you had never spent a night apart since your wedding night two years ago. The marriage had been arranged, of course, but the two of you had quickly become besotted with each other. 
Has your spark faded so soon?
You took a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm. Surely, you were just overthinking things. Aemond had his hands full with the threat of war looming on the horizon. It made sense that he would have little time for you. That was just something you would have to learn to accept.
You let your eyelids fall closed as you continue to run the brush through your hair. The day had quickly come and gone. The hour of ghosts was quickly approaching. You prayed that sleep would come easier tonight. Your poor mind and body craved a peaceful night's rest.
You jump on the small cushion bench you have been sitting on as your bedroom door slams open and closed—Aemond storms into the room. You watch quietly as he paces the room, mumbling angrily in high valyrian. You try to gauge what he is saying, but he is talking too quietly and far too quickly for you to understand. Even with the lessons Aemond and Maester Orwyle have given you over the past year and a half, it was nearly impossible to comprehend Aemond when he spoke so quickly.
You call him, but he ignores you. So you try again, this time much louder. His back is turned to you. You watch as he slowly turns, his eye wandering about the room as if it were some foreign place. You squirm in your seat when his gaze finally falls upon you.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I thought I had gone to my room.”
Your heart sinks at the thought that he no longer considers this his room.
“It is yours, just as much as it is mine,” you shrug.
“Of course,” he mutters sheepishly, shuffling his weight back and forth on his feet.
“Has something happened?” You ask, hoping to draw him into a conversation before he tries to flee.
With an exasperated sigh, Aemond moved to the bed, sitting at the edge. He clenched the blanket tightly in his hands. The two of you sit in silence. You have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from badgering him with questions. He’ll never talk if you do that. The minutes feel like hours, but soon, he speaks.
“My mother is angry with me,” he says quietly. 
I should have known, you thought. You were well aware of the strain growing between your husband and good-mother since he had returned from Storm’s End. Since the murd- the death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Your heart aches for your husband. You know how close Aemond was to his mother and how much she meant to him. No doubt, the distance between them was significantly affecting him.
“She blames me for starting this war. As if she and my father's council have not been plotting to usurp the throne for years,” he scoffed.
His voice was laced with anger and frustration. You want nothing more than to go to him. To reach out and soothe him, but you're afraid he will leave. This was the most time he had spent with you in a week. You were desperate for his attention.
“The realm is preparing for a war the likes of which Westeros has never seen. She is afraid.”
“Aren’t we all?” He snickered.
The two of you sat in silence. Aemond rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. He seemed so small, almost like a child. Your heart grew heavy, weighed down by your worry and concern for your sweet husband. You wanted to help him, but you did not know how—or if he would even let you.
Your fingers twitch, curling around the brown wooden brush handle in your hand. You look down at it. A smile spreads across your lips as an idea finally comes to mind. You turn around, placing the brush down on the table before turning back towards him.
“Come here,” your soft voice cuts through the silence. You beckon Aemond closer with your hand.
Aemond lifts his head. The man looks at you apprehensively, his eye flickering towards the door. For a moment, you fear he will run, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gives you a slight nod and pushes himself up from the bed. You stand just as he’s about to reach you and quickly step aside. You gesture towards the cushioned bench, instructing him to sit. He hesitates but follows your instructions.
 Aemond sits up tall on the bench, his body tense and rigid. His violet eye watches you in the mirror as you step behind him.
“May I?” You ask, gesturing to his eyepatch.
His face goes pale, and for a moment, you regret asking. Perhaps you were overstepping. Though before you can apologize, he nods his head. Your heart skips a beat, overjoyed that he still trusted you enough to see him like this. You have to stop yourself from smiling like a fool.
You try to steady your trembling fingers as you loosen the eyepatch strap. Your eyes flicker towards the mirror. He isn’t looking at you anymore. Instead, his violet eye is closed. He flinched, and his brows knit together as you pulled the eyepatch off his head. You freeze, unsure if you hurt him or he is just uncomfortable. It had been years since he had lost his eye, but it still caused him some discomfort.
“Are you alright?” You asked. 
He blinks, eye flickering towards you. He watches you, no doubt waiting for some sign of disgust or repulsion. But you give him none; you never have. In your eyes, he was perfection. You do your best to look at him with all of the genuine concern and admiration that you can muster.
“I-,” his voice cracked. He blushed and quickly cleared his throat. 
“I’m fine.” He answered, more assuredly this time.
You nod, leaning over his shoulder to carefully place the eyepatch on the table. Your finger moved back to his hair, gently tugging on the tie that held his hair away from his face. Thankfully, it slips off with ease. His hair falls forward, curtaining around his face. 
You gather the hair off his neck, drawing it onto his back. A soft sigh escapes him as your fingers graze against the sensitive skin of his neck.
You reach over his shoulder again, picking up the brush you had been using moments ago. His single eye falls closed as the brush touches his head. You go slowly, trying to be careful of any knots and tangles, though there are none. The brush skims through his silver tresses with ease. You find yourself growing envious, thinking of all the times you and your handmaids have had to wrestle with your hair. 
His hair shines like beaten silver under the candlelight. The sight is almost hypnotic. You continue with your work, letting the brush run through his silver strands again and again. Little by little, his facade crumbles, and his body relaxes under your touch. After a while, you put the brush back on the table. 
You massage his scalp with your fingertips. Aemond’s head is tilted back just a bit, and a soft hum echoes from his throat. The sound reminds you of a cat purring. You smile, feeling rather pleased with yourself. Carefully, you remove your fingers from his hair before brushing through it one more time.
“Would you like me to braid it?” You ask.
“Yes, please,” he answers.
You nod and get to work. You don’t do anything too extravagant, just a simple three-strand braid. Once you are finished, you lean down and press a soft kiss to the crown of his head.
“All done,” you smile.
“Thank you,” he replies, sleepily.
You expect him to get you and leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he spins around on the bench. His large hands gently take hold of your hips, pulling you a bit closer.
“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that you almost missed it.
“For what, my love?” You ask, gently caressing the side of his face with your fingertips.
“For this ... distance between us.”
“Oh,” you hum. “It’s fine. I’m sure you have your reasons.”
“That’s not an excuse,” he mumbles. “I have been-”
You shush him and place a gentle kiss on his scarred brow. “All is forgiven.”
His lips part as he prepares to argue, but he doesn’t. He closed them and nodded, silently thanking you for your forgiveness. Silence takes over the room again, but it’s more comfortable this time. Aemond rubs circles on your hips, through your thin nightdress, with his thumbs.
“Perhaps I shall rest here tonight?” He suggests, avoiding your gaze.
“I would like that,” you smile.
Aemond stands, and you help him undress before the two of you make your way back to your shared bed. Your husband climbs into the bed after you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your back is pressed against his bare chest, and almost immediately, you can feel your mind at ease.
“I love you,” he whispers against your hair.
You try to say it back but cannot, as sleep pulls you away from the waking world. You squeeze his hand in yours and hope he understands.
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