#here have some tea son lets talk about how YOU have been | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

btsvt-bar · 4 months

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down bad

pairing ꩜ husband!mingyu x afab!reader

sequel to hurts so good, please read it first to understand their background/dynamics.

content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni). they sort of have a fwb thing going on.

author's note ꩜

not proofread. comments are appreciated!

warnings under the cut!

warnings ꩜ smut, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, corruption kink (it's not deeply explored), orgasm denial, creampie, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, cock warming, pet names (baby, dear husband/wife, my queen, pretty girl), mentions of threesome.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

You loved birthday parties, especially if they were children’s parties. It’s Saturday afternoon and you’re in the backyard of Wonwoo and Claire’s house to celebrate Yeji’s 4th birthday.

You’re sitting by the pool, your legs submerged to your knees. You see your husband playing around with his friends’ kids. He’s holding Minjoon—Seungcheol’s son—in his arms while he pretends to drink tea with Yeji and three of her school friends. Your heart skips a beat when he looks your way and smiles. It’s almost unfair how handsome he is, even dressed with pink fairy wings, a princess tiara and a pair of plastic earrings.

You sigh and turn your attention to the big form approaching. Joshua greets you with a smile. "Y/N, why are you here all alone?" he asks while sitting by your side.

"Just chilling." You offer a shy smile, a bit intimidated by his presence.

Joshua Hong is gorgeous. When you first met him, you were completely enamored with his face. And when you found out he was nice and friendly, you kinda developed a crush on him. Now, a few years later, you still feel intimidated whenever he’s around.

You take in his visuals, from his dark hair pushed back, featuring his perfect face, to the white button up shirt that allowed you to see a bit of his chest, to his light brown cargo shorts that showcased his legs perfectly. He carried an amused smile on his lips, as usual.

"I’m glad you joined me, though."

"Well, all of my friends are talking about parenting and I can’t listen to another minute of tips on how to change a diaper." Joshua states and you laugh lightly.

"I know the feeling very well." You throw him an empathetic look. "So… how was your trip to Paris? Mingyu mentioned you went there for a convention or something?"

Shua stares into the water, he’s watching your feet move around. "Yeah, for this Luxury Hotels thing. My dad’s trying to expand the franchise and I went to meet some European investors."

"Seems a bit boring." You blurt out and Joshua chuckles, agreeing promptly.

"It is. But it’s work so it’s not meant to be fun."

"True. But Paris is a great city with amazing food and museums."

"Maybe we should go together next time." Joshua comments and your movements freeze instantly. Realizing what he said, he adds "With everyone else, I mean! Like a group trip."

The mischievous gleam in his eyes makes you feel warm inside. Joshua’s flirting, you’re not dumb. And he’s not either, he knows the truth about your situationship with Mingyu.

"That would be nice." Your voice is soft and shaky. He barely said anything and you’re freaking out inside, which leads you to think that maybe you have a big crush on him.

"Hey! You two!" You hear Mingyu’s voice calling. "Let’s sing happy birthday and cut the cake."

Joshua gets up and extends his hands to help you. His palms feel soft under your fingertips, and you feel your insides twist. "C’mon, Y/N. Your husband’s waiting." He flashes a knowing smile and walks away, leaving you too stunned to follow.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

It’s been a year since you and Mingyu made peace and started being friends. You agreed to be friends with benefits and to be exclusive, since you couldn’t risk someone assuming one of you was cheating. So you two reaped the benefits like dates, physical touching and, of course, sex, but didn’t really work on getting romantically involved. Of course that doesn’t mean that both of you didn’t develop some feelings, because you did. But, for now, you played husband and wife and everything was good.

But now, thinking about the way Joshua flirted with you, you wished you could have him. And your brain, always being one to come up with naughty ideas, had the best solution to your problem.

"Gyu?" You call your husband softly. You’re both lying on your shared bed watching TV, his head on your chest and his big hand caressing your belly.

"Hm?" He responds without looking away from the big screen.

"Remember that one time we talked about having a threesome, and I said I didn’t have a guy option?" Your words sparked his interest, so the man got up on his elbows to look at you. "I have a name now…"

Mingyu looks curiously at you. He has an idea of who, but he wants you to say the name. "Who?"

You bite your lower lip, feeling a bit nervous. "Joshua."

Your husband smirks. He knew it. "You have the hots for Shua hyung, dear wife?"

"So what if I do?" You pout. "He’s single and he seems to know about us."

Mingyu scrunches his nose. "I accidentally told him last time we went out for a drink." He reveals with a sheepish smile. "He’s reliable, don’t worry."

"Well, one more reason to do it with him." You say excitedly, your mind already picturing the things you would to do Joshua.

"I don’t want to have a threesome anymore." Your husband states in a quiet voice.

When you look at him, he’s staring down at his hand that’s resting on your hips. He looks a bit annoyed. "What? Are you jealous?" You chuckle, fishing for an answer.

"Not at all." He lies, rolling his eyes to add to the dramatics. "It’s just not on my kink list."

His words make you realize that he’s never once told you about his kinks. In the past year, you’ve talked a few times about it. And Mingyu’s been really open to exploring them, always being so generous and giving you new mind blowing sex experiences each time.

"So what’s on your kink list?" You ask with a sly smile, liking the direction of the conversation.

Mingyu lets his body fall on the bed, hiding his face. He shakes his head, indicating he’s not talking.

"Tell me!" You insist, shaking his arms. "I told you all of mine, but you never told me yours. Besides angry sex, of course."

"Never mind. It’s stupid."

You grab his chin to make him look at you. His cheeks have a pink hue, and he’s scrunching his nose. "Please baby, tell me."

Mingyu sighs, giving in to your soft plead. "It’s not actually a kink, but maaaaybe I’ve been thinking about fucking you in a wedding dress. Since our wedding night never happened."

The air gets caught up in your lungs. The idea of Mingyu having his way with you in a sort of reenactment of your wedding day makes your core burn and your stomach twist and turn.

"I like that idea." You give him a quick kiss before letting go of his face. "What else?"

"I wanted to try corruption kink." He looks away, his face burning even more. It’s funny how cute he looks while revealing his sexual fantasies.

"We can totally try it too." You agree, even if he didn’t actually ask. "But only if you look at me and give me another kiss."

Mingyu chuckles and goes in for the kiss. You touch lips for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Let’s sleep, I’m beaten."

"Not easy being uncle of the year, huh?" You taunt him. "You looked cute dressed up as a fairy."

"The things I do for my goddaughter." He sighs. You both knew fully well he enjoyed playing with the kids, but you let his little lie slide. "Good night, dear wife."

"Good night, dear husband." You allow him to engulf you in a warm hug before slipping into unconsciousness.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

A couple weeks later, you and Mingyu go out to celebrate your 5th anniversary. It’s the first one you’re going to celebrate, now that you’re on good terms. For this reason, you prepared a little surprise for Mingyu, wanting to spice things up a bit.

After your conversation about his kinks, you decided you needed a special occasion to try them, and what’s more special than the first anniversary you celebrate?

So you went out with Gwen and she helped you pick out a nice wedding dress. You settled for a sparkly white satin rhinestone strap mini dress that really compliments your boobs and legs. You’re sure he’s going to lose it when he sees you.

Mingyu also planned a surprise: he made a reservation for an overnight stay in a luxurious hotel room, which had the biggest bed you’ve ever seen.

You arrive after having dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant. Mingyu has a goofy smile, maybe because you both had a couple drinks, maybe because he is excited for the night.

There’s a small table in your room with two flutes and a bottle of champagne waiting. Mingyu pops it open and you toast. You take a sip and decide it’s time to put on your dress.

"Wait here, I have a surprise."

While you rush to the big bathroom to get changed, Mingyu takes off his blazer. He’s wearing a deep purple shirt that compliments his skin, and perfectly tailored dress pants. His hands are shaking in anticipation, because he has another surprise for you before the night ends.

Meanwhile, you put on your dress pretty quickly—you chose one that you’re able to zip up yourself. You pull the white lace garter up your leg, adding a touch of sensuality. To finish off, you place the short veil on your head. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, you decide you look perfect. You slip back into your white heels and open the bathroom door.

Mingyu’s looking out the window, his champagne glass nearly empty. You approach him slowly and cover his eyes with your hands. "Guess who?"

"Hm… I have a feeling it’s my wife. Not sure though." He joined in with a laugh.

You place your hands on his shoulder and turn him around, revealing your new outfit. His jaw drops when he sees you.

"Y/N, what is this?" His breathing is quick and you can see he’s starting to malfunction.

"Well, I kept thinking about how we never had a wedding night." You bite your lower lip, inching closer to him. "And I figured tonight would be a good one to make up for lost time. Don’t you agree?"

Mingyu just stares, still in shock. He takes in your form, how your boobs look delicious in your dress, the way the fabric hugs your waist, and how you look fucking angelic while asking him to fuck you. "Shit, you can’t do this to me." He groans in a low, deep tone.

You can see he already has a tent in his pants. Mingyu looks flushed, and you haven’t even touched him yet.

"How about you lie down, dear husband?" You say in a provocative tone. "You look a little pale, let me take care of you."

The man nearly runs to the bed. He gets comfortable and you get on top of him. Your core is starting to grow hot, seeing how much he wants you.

Without giving it a second thought, pull out his pants along with his boxers. His cock stands hard and leaking pre cum, which makes your mouth water at the sight.

Before leaving the house, you decided you want to have a night to remember. And you hold on to that determination when you keep pushing Mingyu’s buttons.

"I want to help, but I don’t know how…" you take his cock in your hand and pump it slowly. He shudders at the stimulation. "Can you teach me how to do it, dear husband?" Your saccharine voice makes something twist inside of Mingyu. He takes in your doe eyes and semi innocent smile, quickly catching on what you’re doing. The man chuckles in pleasant disbelief, he knows he’s in for a treat.

"My pretty girl needs guidance?" His big hand starts to guide yours as you masturbate him. You’re sitting on his beefy thighs and you can feel him trembling as you increase the speed of your movements. Mingyu’s eyes are closed and his mouth slightly parted, allowing some sighs to fall off easily.

You feel him twitching under your palm and his hand holds your wrist to stop you. "That’s enough, baby." His voice is breathy and it makes you happy to see how much you affect him.

"Can you do something else for me?" Mingyu asks. You nod and bat your eyelashes at him. "I need you to put your mouth around it."

You feign shock, widening your eyes and slightly gaping your mouth. Mingyu sits up a bit, and kisses you softly while kneading your thighs. "I'll help through it, pretty girl".

You slide down the bed and inch closer to his throbbing cock. "Open your mouth." Mingyu instructs and you play along.

His heavy hand grabs the back of your head and guides you to start sucking him off. He loves the wet and warm feeling of your tongue on his cock, it makes the fire in his abdomen burn hotter and hotter with each passing second.

Mingyu starts to feel hot and unbuttons his shirt, his hand leaving your to bob your head on your own for a few seconds. "You're so good at this, baby." He groans deeply and you feel arousal pool on your lace panties, his reactions turning you on even more.

When he feels he's about to cum, Mingyu pulls you away. You take a good look at your husband, taking in they way his toned chest glistened because of the thin layer of sweat. He takes off his shirt, laying bare beneath you. He looks beautiful and your heart races.

You sigh and move closer, needing to feel his lips on yours. You share a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing in sync. Mingyu guides your hips and you grind against him, his big hands giving occasional slaps on your ass.

By now, you're already soaking wet and desperate for his cock. You need Mingyu and you need him now. "Gyu, I need you".

"Need me to do what, baby?"

Of course he wasn't going to make it easy for you. You take his hand and guide it to your dripping cunt, acting shy. Mingyu runs his fingers on your lace panties and grunts when he feels just how wet you are.

Mingyu decides to play nice and slips his fingers in your panties. He glides his fingers easily, collecting your wetness while rubbing your lower lips. His middle finger settles in your clit and he circles it slowly, sending electric waves through your body.

Your head feels heavy with lust, so you let it fall on his shoulder. He keeps masturbating you until you feel on edge. When he senses you're about to cum, he stops his ministrations, earning a frustrated cry from you.

"I-I was so close" you complain with a pout. Mingyu laughs and pecks your puckered up lips.

"I promise I'm going to make you feel even better."

Mingyu reaches for the zipper on your back and undoes it in a way to expose your boobs. He grabs them and runs his thumbs on your nipples. "So perfect for me, they fit perfectly in my hands."

He attaches his lips to your right nipple and keep massaging the other. You go back to rutting each other like animals on heat. You pull his hair and let you head fall back, the familiar burning sensation running through your veins.

Mingyu decides he's had enough, so he manhandles you so you're on all fours. He stands tall behind you, admiring your exposed ass and covered cunt. Slowly, he slides your panties down your legs. You shake in anticipation.

"My beautiful wife..." he sighs. "You're going to be good to me, aren't you?" You agree quickly. "I can't wait to ruin you. To fill you up with my seed and get you pregnant." You both moan in unison.

Your heart is racing with his words. God, you'd let him do anything to you. Anything. "Please, do it."

Mingyu's cock throbs with your request. He aligns himself with your whole and sinks in slowly. You lose strength and bend your arms, exposing your ass even more. Mingyu grabs your waist to support you in place, even if his own legs were trembling with pent up desire.

He slides in and out of you, catching up speed until his unrelenting tempo makes the bed shake and hit the wall. His cock massages your inner walls in the most perfect way, hitting all the right places to put you in a lustful frenzy.

You're sure you're moaning and whining, but your heart pumps so loudly in your ears that you don't quite hear it. But Mingyu does, and it only spurs him on. He's lost in your heat, in the way you clench around him. Plus, you in that fucking wedding dress... every time his eyes glimpse at the sheer white fabric, he swears his cock gets even harder.

Mingyu slows down and pulls out of you. You let out a whimper at the loss, feeling really worked up and frustrated.

The man sits down again and pulls you on his lap, and you're so wet you sink down on him with ease. You start to ride him, your boobs bouncing deliciously for Mingyu to see.

His eyes focus on the place where you two connect. Your cunt swallows his big cock beautifully. "You're taking me so well, pretty girl".

You place your hands on his chest for support, your short nails sinking on his skin and leaving small crescent marks. "I'm close."

Mingyu snaps his hips up to meet yours, reaching even deeper within you. It only takes a few slides for you to cum.

You feel your spirit being lifted from your body and you tremble, falling into Mingyu. He places two fingers on your clit and circles it to intensify your pleasure. You're so out of it you don't even notice when Mingyu flips you both over and starts to rail you missionary, chasing after his own high.

"Fill me up, dear husband" You sigh in his ear and Mingyu shivers. "Make my pussy full of your warm cum. Give me your babies".

That's enough for Mingyu to lose it and cum with a deep moan. He shivers and start to unload inside of you, his white milk covering your abused walls. His hips slow down and he stills inside of you.

Once again, he flips you both over, and you stay on top of him again, his cock still inside of you. You kiss his neck and rub your hands on his arms while you wait for him to come down. Mingyu grabs your ass, and you know he's partially recovered. So you sit up again, still cock warming him.

When he looks up at you, you can see the admiration in his eyes. Mingyu smiles beautifully, his canines showing up and his orbs shining with something else you can't quite identify.

"I have to ask you something" He says and you smile, indicating he can keep talking. "But I have to get something first... It pains me, but I need you to slip off".

Even full of his cum, you feel empty when Mingyu slides off. The dress you're wearing is all bunched up and wet, so you take it off and throw it on the floor.

"Can you grab my panties?" You ask your husband and he gets one from your bag. He also brings a wet towel from the bathroom and cleans you up before you slide in your fresh panties. When you're both semi-clean and with underwear on, you slide into the fresh Egyptian cotton sheets.

"What did you want to ask me?" You question, feeling a bit anxious.

Mingyu bites his lower lips. He's feeling shy and self-conscious, but he musters the courage to say what he wants. "Well, this night is about celebrating our wedding, right?" You agree. "This past year's been amazing, and I really liked getting to know you better".

"Me too, Gyu" You smile, your heart beating faster.

"I know we agreed to being friends with benefits, but I realized I can't keep going like that." You have a big question mark in your eyes and Mingyu can see it, so he hurries to complete his line of thought. "I can't be friends because I'm down bad. I love you, Y/N. I never expected this to happen, but I do."

You smile and jump him. Your heart's beating like crazy and you're completely at a loss for words. "I love you too, Gyu."

You both kiss in such a soft way, it makes your heart flutter.

Mingyu's smiling widely, once again showing his canines you adore so much. "Well, I think I can ask you what I wanted then".

He pulls a black box from under the pillow, one you didn't even see him placing there. He opens the box and there lies the most beautiful engagement ring. You never really got engaged, since you hated each other back then.

Mingyu takes the ring. "I kept thinking about how I never asked you to marry me. So, will you be my queen? Will you marry me, for real this time?"

"Yes! Yes, yes... God yes!" He places the ring on your finger and you kiss again, this time with more passion.

"My queen" He places a kiss on your cheek, sighing with a dreamy smile. "We're gonna be so happy, I promise".

"I know we will, baby. I'm gonna give my best for it to happen, too".

Then, Mingyu gets up and fills another glass of champagne for you to toast your engagement. You keep talking and exchanging kisses until late hours. You're down bad, but you're sure you don't want to get up.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

m.list ♡

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen hard hours #mingyu hard hours #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #anon request #my works

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checkeredflagggs · 5 days

Text

Aftermath of a Storm

Pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!Storm chaser!fem!reader

summary: people are shocked to learn about alice and oscar

a/n: tbh i really meant for the first part to have more of the other drivers learning about Barbie and Alice but obviously that didn’t happen 😂

a/n 2: timelines? What timelines? Idk know them

Part 1

Twitter

Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice

Private Messages - The Grid, Fun

Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice

mclaren

liked by drbarbie, teammate1, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 4,822,445 others

tagged: drbarbie, oscarpiastri

mclaren: Check the weather this weekend! Because there must be a storm moving in —Oscar Piastri is taking Dr. Alice “Barbie” Sargeant, Williams Racing’s Logan Sargeant’s twin sister and notable storm chaser, on a hot lap here in Mexico!

view all comments

user1: oh my god this is everything I never knew I needed

user2: oh yeah hey mclaren don’t forget to mention THAT THEY ARE DATING

oscarpiasti: it’s gonna be a good time!

logansargeant: it’s been nice knowing you

oscarpiasti: I’m sure it’ll be fine

logansargeant: you sure about that? you SURE about that?

logansargeant: are we talking about the same girl?

user4: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

used5: LET US IN. LET US IN!! YOURE AMERICAN — SPILL THE TEA

landonorris: Oscar! You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend!!!! 😡😡😡

oscarpiastri: I’m sure I mentioned it.

landonorris: I’m sure YOU HAVENT!?!

oscarpiastri: of course I have. are you sure you were listening?

landonorris: of course I was LISTENING! You just haven’t said A WORD!? Since when have you had a girlfriend?

oscarpiastri: we’ve been together for nearly 7 years

landonorris: 7 years?!?

oscarpiastri: yes.

landonorris: WHAT?!??!

user6: WHAT?

user7: uhh raise your hand if you had Oscar Piastri has a secret girlfriend, Logan Sargeant has a twin sister, or the two would be the same person on your bingo card this year

user8: ok but if anyone on the grid had a secret girlfriend of course it’s gonna be Oscar?

user7: you got me there

user9: 7 years?!? How do you hide a girlfriend for 7 years? Especially one as cool as drbarbie?

user10: user9 asking the real questions

user11: right?? How did some guy who drives in silly circles score such a cool badass girlfriend?

drbarbie: I ran over him with my bike one day

user11: WHAT?!?

drbarbie: ummmm what is this??? oscarpiastri WHAT DID YOU DO???

logansargeant: apparently signed you up to tackle a hot lap

drbarbie: NO

drbarbie: ABSOLUTELY NOT

drbabrie: SPEED AND I DO! NOT! MIX!!

drbarbie: oscarpiastri ANSWER YOUR PHONE

drbarbie: nicolepiastri where is your son? I’d like to have some words with him

nicolepiastri: you and me both sweetie

user12: you chase tornadoes but can’t do a hot lap?

drbarbie: THERE IS A MAJOR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO!

user13: and you prefer the storms?

drbarbie: YES!!

f1gossippage

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, teammate1, and 3,997,455 others

f1gossippage: a hot lap for the records! Oscar Piastri drove girlfriend Barbie Sargeant around the track twice today! Definitely seems like she’s not a fan

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user14: not a fan? I’d say 😂 I didn’t know anyone could scream that high tbh

user15: those were genuinely screams of terror…save my girl 😭

user16: Barbie Sargeant? Nah fam you did not do my girl dirty like that. Put some respect in her damn name. It’s DR. ALICE “BARBIE” SARGEANT

user17: oh thank god someone said it. She did not get 2 phd’s by the time she was 21 to have that be disrespected

user18: no shit really?

user17: yes! She graduated with double phd’s in meteorology and mechanical engineering from Cornell when she was 20!

used18: so fucking cool! And yea! PUT SOME DAMN RESPECT IN HER NAME!

user19: someone with more experience needs to watch this entire clip and then make gif sets of the ENTIRE thing because her face goes on a lot of journeys

user20: most of those journeys end in murder i think

drbarbie: they do. They will

logansargeant: maybe don’t threaten Oscar on a public instagram post?

drbarbie: for once in your life, stay in your lane. Unless you’d like to join him?

logansargeant: …carry on.

user20: logansargeant what was that??

logansargeant: I support women’s Rights and Wrongs

drbarbie: good

oscarpiasti: oh these are good pictures!

drbarbie: you are a dead man walking Piastri

oscarpiastri: would you really hurt me?

drbarbie: yes

oscarpiastri: what about my mother and sisters?

drbarbie: nicolepiastri soooo…you’re gonna be down a son soon. I can offer Logan?

nicolepiastri: oh we’d love to have the two of you visit again soon logansargeant and drbarbie

oscarpiastri: nicolepiastri mum??

user21: not nicolepiastri supporting this 🤣😭

teammate1: 😂😂😂

drbarbie: I sign your checks. Watch yourself

teammate1: girl this is too damn funny

drbarbie: 🙄😑

Private Messages - Oscar, Logan, Alice

drbarbie

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 3,728,388 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

drbarbie: it’s your turn now! 🥰

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user22: the hearts make this a very ominous message

drbarbie: it’s supposed to be!

user22: oh!

oscarpiastri: babe?

oscarpiastri: what do you mean my turn?

drbarbie: I told you! I’d only ever get in your car when you get in mine!

drbarbie: so convenient that you have a break and dolly is back from the mechanics right now! 🧡🩵🧡

oscarpiastri: ummm…🏃🏻‍♂️💨

user23: ok but is she really gonna take him through a tornado???

user24: that does seem like it’s the plan?

user23: I can’t watch this 🙈

user24: she’s a professional?

drbarbie: more confidence in me please

user24: you right you right

user: SHES A PROFESSIONAL

drbarbie: thank you!

logansargeant: good luck! Have fun!

drbarbie: 😊😊😊

logansargeant:…no.

logansargeant: What did I do?

logansargeant: come on I helped you

logansargeant: I’m on your side!!

teammate3: dolly is ready to roll!!

oscarpiastri: that better be a joke

teammate1:…

teammate2:…

teammate3:…

teammate4:…

teammate5:…

Private Messages - The Grid, Serious

drbarbie

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and 4,288,373 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant

drbarbie: don’t worry guys! They made it through the “storm” a-ok! (Come on guys, have a little faith. I’d never actually take someone unprepared into an actual tornado. Plus prime tornado season is over for the year!)

view all comments

user25: oh thank god. I was so very nervous

user26: girl you ain’t the only one. Check the video at 14:25. Oscar’s fingers are fucking white with panic 😂😂

oscarpiastri: thank you love for not subjecting me to a tornado

logansargeant: yes thank you my very favorite sister who is definitely the best and best and most wonderful

oscarpiastri: yes! Most wonderful and loving and beautiful girlfriend ever

drbarbie:…laying it on a little bit thick aren’t you?

logansargeant: quite literally whatever I have to do so I never ever ever ever have to get in that truck again!

drbarbie: don’t you dare disrespect dolly!

logansargeant: never!

oscarpiastri: dolly is a queen! We aren’t worthy.

logansargeant: yes! We definitely shouldn’t be in that truck ever again

drbarbie: babies…fine

user26: wow!!!! 🤩 those photos are stunning!

drbarbie: thank you! When I was planning this I knew the conditions were gonna be good for some nice thunderstorms but even I didn’t expect this level!

user26: so you just…followed them around?

drbarbie: yup! It’s something our parents used to do for me when logie and I were young - the driving being a lot more calm then normal is just about the only difference (my passengers complained the entire time 🙄)

user27: oh that’s so cute! (They seem like the type 😂)

landonorris: stunning

drbarbie: thank you!

oscarpiastri: no

landonorris: I didn’t say anything?

oscarpiastri: and yet the answer is no. Go away

georgerussell63: shut down!

landonorris: why am I catching strays on my comment thread???

charles_leclerc: these are magnificent photos! And it looked like a fun trip to get them

drbarbie: thank you! (Oh my god oscarpiastri I’ve been noticed by your father!)

oscarpiastri: that’s cool babe

charles_leclerc: yes! Welcome to the family. We expect you for dinner soon

drbarbie: score!

alicepublic

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 3,590,455 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

alicepublic: happy anniversary my love. The best 7 years of my life so far — with many more to go 🧡🧡🧡

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oscarpiastri: I can’t believe that it’s only been 7 years, I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime already — I couldn’t imagine spending it with anyone else.

alicepublic: oh my love…

user28: water is wet. Fork found in the kitchen. I’m sleeping on the highway!

user29: sleepover!!

oscarpiastri: You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me 🩷

mclaren: you won the race last week?

alicepublic: uhhh your point?

oscarpiastri: and? I said what I said!

mclaren: alrighty then! Well said!

charles_leclerc: happy anniversary my son and daughter in law!

alicepublic: not a daughter in law yet but thank you!

oscarpiastri: soon!

alicepublic: WHAT?!? 😳 🫢

logansargeant: 7 years of being a third wheel and they don’t even tag me…EVEN THOUGH I'M VERY BLATANTLY IN THIS PHOTO DUMP

alicepublic: chill out dude

oscarpiastri: thank you for being our favorite third wheel and for taking these wonderful photos

logansargeant: Oscar is my favorite

alicepublic: I’d be mad but same tbh

user30: it’s been years but yay! Dr Barbie’s priv account is finally open

user31: oh my god baby her and baby Oscar are so cute!

user30: I know!! I’ve been getting fomo going through her posts - like what do you mean I haven’t been growing up with them?

user32: yeah alicepublic can we get an explanation for that photo near the beginning of you on a bike and Oscar bleeding?

alicepublic: that was the first day we met! My bike broke (no brakes) and as I was trying to slow down I accidentally ran over Oscar!

oscarpiastri: best accident I’ve ever had!

user32: ok this is the cutest meet-cute! ♥️

landonorris: unfortunately you guys are cute…

alicepublic: what 🥺 🥺 …

oscarpiastri: what do you mean unfortunately?

landonorris: yeah — can’t have anyone cuter than me in the garage so you’re uninvited to mclaren

oscarpiastri: happily you can’t make those decisions (slides $5 to mclaren)

mclaren: don’t worry alicepublic ! Permanent paddock pass for you!

landonorris: WHAT? NO!

landonorris: IM STILL CATCHING STRAYS ON MY COMMENT THREADS

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sommerregenjuniluft · 6 months

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@jegulus-microfic april 1 - spring - 1340 words (of domestic bliss with little harry)

Sundays are slow in the Potter household.

One would think James doesn’t like the pace of it, always having to do something usually, always active, moving around or talking, tugging at his loved ones or caressing their skin, but he does. It hasn’t always been this way but with getting older and especially since they’ve become parents James had noticed how his body and mind welcomed the one break in the week to just shut off and recharge.

They’ve fought their way through a cloudy March and with the arrival of April, spring is finally here.

James loves spring. People always assume it’s summer—and credit to them, because he does—but there’s just something about the rebirth of everything that comes after the long gloomy fall and icey winter period. The birds chirp with their return and in search for a mate, insects buzz lively and everything brightens with colour.

Like clockwork, Harry appears in the threshold of the master bedroom at around 7 am, deer plushie in a tight grip by the antlers, his dark mob of hair messy as anything. He drowsily rubs the sleep from his eyes, face squished and James sometimes thinks he might die from how adorable their four year old is.

He grabs his glasses, pushes back the sheets and plants a gentle kiss on Regulus’ cheek where he’s still knocked out like the dead and smushed into his pillow.

Harry pads wordlessly into the living room, James hot on his trail. Though while Harry goes in search of a children’s book for James to read to him, James makes a detour to the kitchen. He fills them two bottles with the tea they let out on the counter overnight, preparing one for Regulus as well for when he wakes up. He cuts up some fruit and vegetables and grabs the packets of rice cakes and crackers from the pantry, loading it all on a tray before he sets on to the living room.

Harry is already curled under the big fleece blanket they keep there, grinning when James rounds the corner with their pre-breakfast.

“Morning, dada,” he greets, sweetly.

James’ chest swells. “Morning, pumpkin,” he returns, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair, setting down the tray. Before he takes his place next to his son he walks over to open the big terrasse glass doors.

“How’d you sleep?” James asks, plopping down next to Harry who immediately snuggles closer, plushie still in hand.

“Good,” Harry sighs contently and James can’t help himself when he brushes some of his hair back from his forehead and kisses him again. “Can you read to me?”

It’s a hidden object book but James knows what he means. He grins, “’Course, Hazza.”

They do just that for a bit, James describing what’s going on on the pages, creating a story for recurring characters. Skipping back and forth with Harry randomly pointing out another happening of the drawing while he’s munching away on his rice cakes and cucumbers and the occasional grape.

It’s still mildly cool, especially when a faint breeze picks up, moving the grass outside and swishing inside but Harry’s still wearing long pyjamas and James knows he’ll tell him if he’s too cold. He simply burrows further under the blanket and into his father’s side. James runs hot anyways.

When Harry decides they’re done with books James puts on a nature documentary for them.

They’re teaching about the strength of some rainforest ant species when Regulus shuffles into the room, arms wrapped around himself and eyes nearly closed.

“Morning, Papa,” Harry whispers excitedly, already wiggling out of James’ embrace even though he knows Regulus will join them there in just a moment.

A smile tugs at Regulus’ lips as he blinks his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering agonisingly beautifully and giving way to soft grey. James swears they get a little more blue every time right around his birthday, like Regulus is just another subject to the changes of spring.

“Mornin’,” Regulus sighs happily when he squeezes Harry against his chest, peppering the side of his head with kisses until he pulls away, tugging Regulus along to James.

His eyes are already closed again when Regulus nuzzles into the crook of James’ neck, pressing a kiss there before he gets comfortable.

“Morning, love,” James murmurs, voice thick with adoration, audible even to himself, and he strokes Regulus’ exposed arm softly.

The spell of Sunday is thick in the air, heavy in their bones.

Harry, usually the most lively child, always animatedly talking about something or the other, giggling, making jokes or doing mischief, is quiet now too. It’s routine, the way he grabs for Regulus’ arm and squeezes between his two dads, waiting for James to absently card his fingers through their hair and send them back to their slumbers.

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes before Harry’s breaths are deepening and it’s marvellous. Magical in the way that Regulus’ presence seems to calm him so much it pulls him back into another nap.

James smiles so wide, looking down at them like that for so long that his cheeks start straining.

He watches a bit more of the documentary, snaps a few obligatory pictures of them on his phone and sends them into their family group chat. Monty sends back a pixelated picture of a zoomed in shot of Effie in the garden, Sirius replies with a shaky snapshot of him running with the dogs and Remus answers with an aesthetically pleasing picture of what seems to be the breakfast he’s preparing for the two of them.

James’ belly growls hungrily at the reminder and when his gaze falls on the lone grape sitting in the bowl on the tray he decides it’s time for breakfast.

It’s nothing short of artful the way he extracts himself from besides Harry and Regulus without rousing them before he heads for the kitchen.

He grabs flour and sugar, eggs and milk for pancakes, as well as the bacon, bagles and cream cheese. It’s meditative to put together all the ingredients, set the table and assemble syrup and blueberries and chocolate chips. Halfway through James remembers the leftover quinoa in the fridge and between placing patches of batter in a sizzling pan he whips them up a quick salad as well.

The smell in the kitchen is divine and James has already made acquaintances with the joyful bluetit in the tree by the window by the time Regulus comes into the kitchen with Harry on his hip. He’s babbling now, talking Regulus’ ear off by the looks of it and Regulus hums and nods and gasps at all the right places, looking ridiculously endearing with his curls mussed and an imprint of the couch cushion lining his cheek.

“Morning, champ,” James teases, smacking a loud kiss over the line in Regulus’ cheek.

Regulus growls quietly, grinning despite himself, “You’re lucky I love your cooking so much.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Harry parrots, grinning widely.

James tuts with faux affront, “What kind of sentiments are you teaching our poor child, Regulus. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for hours now. How about a ‘Thank you, daddy’?”

“Thank you, daddy,” they both reply in unison though Regulus’ has a decidedly different tone to it that makes James point the spatula at him in warning.

Regulus just smirks before he leans heavily into James’ side and rips a piece of pancake off of the ones already on a plate, blowing on it before dividing it in half and feeding it to Harry and himself.

James tasks them with setting out glasses of water and orange juice, mugs for tea. On Sundays coffee is banned in the Potter house. Regulus thinks he can wind himself out of his caffeine addiction that way.

When everyone is done and everything is in place they all sit down together, legs tangled under the table, smiling warmly at each other over their plates of delicious food, the spring breeze ruffling their hair and clothes pleasantly as it drifts through the open window.

#jegulus raising harry #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus fluff #james potter #regulus black #kid harry potter #toddler harry potter #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

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falllpoutboy · 2 months

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the ritualistic humiliation of alicent this season was absolutely disgusting and the show constantly needed to remind us that she is the character we should root against all the time and never feel bad for her, everyone else gets a pass because they’re a slave to fate, apparently, but not her. nearly every single plot point this season regarding her is swiftly followed by a punishment, whether literally or narratively.

she starts this season by having clandestine consensual sex with criston cole her sworn sword. they are so bad at being clandestine that otto and larys have clearly suspected something is going on with them. after being stood up by her, larys then replaces her regular lady’s maids with some from his staff so that they can spy and report back to him which makes alicent uncomfortable enough to send them away. that’s punishment #1

she and criston are having sex when b&c happens and are interrupted by helaena and jaehaera running in. but remember, jaehaerys was not the original target of b&c, and the mastermind behind it, daemon is redeemed by the end of this season, so alicent is so much of a POS hypocrite that while she too busy having sex with the LC of the kingsguard, her grandson dies on HER watch. and as much as i loved alicole, i really hate that the writers used their relationship to seemingly punish the characters when they literally haven’t done anything wrong. and now helaena knows about the affair too. punishment #2

alicent is confronted by rhaenyra at the sept of baelor, who lets slip that she heard viserys push for aegon to be king as his last words to her. but oh no, silly alicent, rhaenyra is here to tell you about the song of ice and fire, this stupid prophecy that has been passed from Targaeryen king to heir for generations now. how would alicent have known about it when she is neither king nor heir? doesn’t matter, she’s stupid for believing his words to be literal and stupid for playing a part in crowning her son. punishment #3

alicent takes moon tea, as an abortifacient or as a late contraceptive, we’ll never know! but the very act of taking moon tea is now perceived by grand maester orwylle, who now also has reason to suspect queen alicent has been having an affair. punishment #4

bitter and disillusioned with herself for not knowing about a stupid fucking prophecy nobody told her about and letting her horrible son aegon be crowned (even though the council was planning on installing him anyways), alicent talks down to aegon by reminding him he’ll never be as good of a king as his father (L O L) and he should do nothing. such a rousing speech leads to aegon getting drunk, flying out into battle on his dragon and getting maimed because of it. why did you say such mean things alicent? now look what you did. punishment #5

back at the small council, alicent advocates for herself to be regent with only one person there to agree with her, grand maester orwylle but not even her lover and closest confidant advocates for her. the son she is scared of the most becomes regent instead. silly alicent, don’t you know you will never be respected in a room full of men? how do you like misogyny, something you have apparently never personally experienced until this day, now? punishment #6

alicent goes to the sept of baelor to pray with helaena when a riot mob happens and is forced to retreat. this mob is apparently so righteously angry at not having enough food, they throw fish in her face with such good aim and call her the queen of fishes, alicent trips and falls for leaving helaena behind momentarily, and she also receives a bloody gash on her arm before barely escaping with her life and helaena. oh alicent, didn’t you know that the blockade of ships that carries food into the city which has been enforced by rhaenyra and corlys has actually been your fault the entire time?? punishment #7

back at the small council, alicent confronts aemond and is relieved by her duty on there by him. maybe its because she brings up a theory that he is now avenging the bullying he went through when he was young, which one could argue happened on her watch, is why she gets the boot. oh well, there goes any little ruling power and say in the war effort she had left. punishment #8

alicent sees off her brother ser gwayne who makes mention that their father otto kept her closer to him than gwayne because she was his favored child. Oh! so because alicent was otto’s favorite, it doesn’t really matter that he sold her into marriage and marital rape at age 14 last season. why would you ever want to be otto hightower’s favorite child? punishment #9

alicent also asks about daeron, with gwayne saying how unlike to aegon and aemond he is because he was raised away from them in Oldtown and not by her.. she even says this and gwayne dissuades her of that opinion but honestly, once alluded to that alicent is a bad mom, it’s just her biased brother claiming otherwise. punishment #10

#i wont even talk about the massive character assassination in the finale bc thats a separate post #anti hotd #alicent hightower #alicole?#anti ryan condal

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soupandsimple · 4 months

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Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)

[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]

* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)

** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)

…………….

Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.

Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.

Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”

“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”

That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.

After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.

“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.

“I would have loved if you did.”

You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”

“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”

He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.

“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”

You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.

“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”

“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.

You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.

Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.

Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.

“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.

“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.

So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.

“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”

Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.

“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.

He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”

All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.

But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.

“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.

You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.

“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.

You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.

“You can’t do what?”

“Return to the real world.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”

“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”

You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.

“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.

“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.

As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.

He then finally spoke.

“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.

Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.

“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.

Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.

“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.

Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.

He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #neighbors to lovers #neighbor aaron hotchner

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macfrog · 1 year

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hits different cowboy like me chapter twelve

oh, my, love is a lie! are we all ready? do we have our coping strategies in place? have we prepared ourselves for impending doom? then gather round, my dear children, for i’ve a tale to tell. and it’s a SORE one

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: still reeling from your fight with joel, you seek out an effective way to deal with it: a night of sambuca shots and no second thoughts

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) alcohol + drug consumption (reader gets hammered), heartache, angst, unwanted touching, intended sexual assault, drink spiking, descriptions of blood and bruising, protective!joel gets into a quick barfight, more discussion of cheating(?), joel won't admit feelings, pain pain and more pain, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 10.9k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

Joel takes a beat to answer. Like he’s waiting for your voice to fill the space, the way it usually would. What’s up, old man? How hard is it to copy an address right? Lois not as good at typing as she is at sucking your – “You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.” The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

Of course he went to see Lois. He’s probably been seeing her for some time now. A nice lady, his own age, his line of work. You’re pretty sure she has a son, too. And your dad would love her, would love to think Joel was shacking up with some plant hire receptionist. She could turn your life around, son, he’d said. They fit together like a couple of jigsaw pieces. What the fuck would he have ever seen in you, past some young, tight thing for him to fuck? Just a placeholder. Just a time-waster.

A twenty-three-year-old; enough energy to keep him on his toes, cure his boredom. Fill his summer with something to do. And close enough to him, too, that he reeled you in with minimum effort. One stupid look at you – one stupid, stupid glance and you were hooked. High as a kite on him. All the touching, all the whispering. That fucking – the fucking bottle. The video. All of it, every second he ever spent near you – it all makes you cringe now.

And then, once the embarrassment of being played by your dad’s best friend passes, there’s the hurt. The aching. Fuck, the aching. The way your chest swells, feels like it might rip at the seams and burst open. The sting behind your eyes anytime you picture his smile, the way he’d look at you. The feeling of your throat closing up whenever you go to speak, windpipe constricting around any words that aren’t his name, and using them to choke you.

And it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it. Can’t have a heart-to-heart with your dad, have him make you a tea and sit him down by your window, ask for advice on heartbreak and getting over his best friend. You’ve been excusing your reclusiveness by telling him you’re on your period. That’s why you haven’t left your bed in four days.

It was just all so fucking believable, wasn’t it? So good, you thought you were dreaming the entire time.

And here he’d just proven you right. You dreamt it all up.

Has he fucked her yet? Lois. Is she one of the ten he told you about the other night? Has she touched him the way you have? Has he touched her, the way he did you?

Does she know how he sounds when he comes undone? How he looks? How he feels? Does she do it for him the way you do it? And what does he call her? Baby? Darlin’? Or something different entirely?

Now you’re wondering when he started seeing her, and then, if they have slept together, when the first time was. Whether or not you cross over with her. Maybe he went and fucked her after you argued. Let off some steam over at her place, while you sat in his house, smelling his shirts and reading his stupid fucking Alcatraz books. While you paced around, practicing the words you’d say to him when he came back.

All you wanted was for him to come back. You wanted him to come find you upstairs, take the book from your hands and lean his head down on your chest, mumble an apology into the material of your shirt and then kiss you, and kiss you again while he pulled the clothes from your body, and kiss you while you were naked underneath him, and kiss you while he rocked his hips into yours.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You think you hate her. You don’t even know her. Don’t know what she looks like, only heard her voice. She’s probably gorgeous. Probably a really sweet woman, helps out on the PTA, the type that stops to read missing dog posters so she can keep an eye out for them. Probably knows Joel well enough that she writes Sarah a birthday card every year. Just a real nice, Southern lady.

And you fucking hate her.

That’s not fair, though, and you know it. She didn’t do anything wrong. Joel’s the one who screwed you over – screwed you both over. Really, you and Lois are one and the same.

Except that she’s taken away the only thing to put a real smile on your face since you got home, and for that, you fucking hate her.

What had he said again? That night he drove you home from Sal’s, the night your dad asked him to stay for pizza. …said she’d like to go for a drink. I said maybe sometime. Maybe he’d organized that drink, in the midst of whatever you two had been doing. Thought nothing of it – you said it yourself: you were just messing around. Said it, like, three times to him. Good fucking job.

And that adds to the hurt. That neither of you seemed to care enough to call it anything more. Because now, sitting alone in your room, desperately checking your phone for a missed call or a text message from him, ears pricking at every sound your dad makes downstairs in case he’s answering a call from Joel or welcoming him in through the front door – you wish you had called it something.

Wish you had just fucking said it. Told him outright about the feelings you had. You were thinking about them enough – the thought circled your mind any time there was a moment’s silence between you.

Sometimes, the way he’d glance over to you, the way his hand would brush against yours, the way he’d say your name…he felt like…

Yours. He was yours. He was so fucking close to being yours.

You almost said it, once. Almost admitted it to him. Couple times you saw it flash behind his eyes, too. And it’s a damn good thing neither of you did say it, because it would’ve been a mistake. Would’ve been lies.

You don’t love him. You never did. You were in some fantasy, built by Joel. There ain’t no love between you. None from your side. And definitely none from him.

Definitely – none – from –

him.

----------

Anna’s been at you all week. She text you on Monday night, but you were about four layers of blanket deep in your bed, weeping into a box of dry cereal and listening to some sad girl playlist on repeat. You fished your cell out from under your mattress the next morning. Your dad had to call it to help you find it.

Anna: Frank’s again on Friday? Rodeo night round 2!!!

Tuesday, it was Please?? It was so fun on Sat. Cmon, Kara’s coming again. Sam’s working but that means free shots so.

On Wednesday, she tried a new approach. I’ll cover any shift you want.

Any two shifts……

Ok three????

Thursday, she started to get desperate. I’ll spill all your secrets to my dad if you don’t come. And you know he’ll tell them all to your dad lol

By Friday morning, though, she’d decided you had no say in the matter: you were going, and you’d be happy about it. And you didn’t have it in you to fight back.

She’s standing at the side of the mirror, scanning you from head to two.

“All black? Again?”

“I look good in black.”

“You look good in anything,” she agrees, turning to sift through your closet, “so why don’t we go for…?”

“No,” you clip, holding a finger up to the red dress in her hands. “No.”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s hot. C’mon.”

“Why do I gotta be hot?”

“I mean…is Mr. Miller gonna be pickin’ you up again, or…?”

You lob a previously discarded dress at her and she snorts, turning to slip it back onto a hanger.

Even his fucking surname sends a pang of pain through your body. Your heart jumps at the sound of it, like its hopes had risen for a second, but then it plummets with the realization that it’s not really Joel, and he’s still really gone.

You’re in a plain black slip dress, black denim jacket slung over your shoulders. Black lace-up boots, too. It’s like rodeo night, except without the fun and excitement of Joel waiting for you at the end of the night. It’s basically rodeo night’s funeral. And good fucking riddance.

Anna – always glittering, always in some sparkly getup – leads you out of your bedroom and down the stairs. Your dad agreed to drop you guys off, seeing as he’s out working later on.

He’s sat in his armchair, glasses on the tip of his nose, squinting down at the instruction booklet to that fucking Garmin he’s still wrestling with. He looks up and claps his hands once.

“Ready, girls?”

Anna nods eagerly and you lift your eyebrows, thinking about how Joel would laugh at the sight of his buddy still fighting a very obviously lost battle to a GPS. Then you think about how he’d tell you quietly, You look beautiful, darlin’, and ask you to text him when you got home safe.

And finally, you think about how much of an ass he is, and you blink the tears from your eyes before following the two blurry figures out to the car.

Anna snaps a couple selfies as the car winds out of the neighborhood, angling her phone to pull you into shot. The sun setting over the roofs of the houses dazzles your eyes. She tuts, tells you to Look like you actually wanna be goin’ out, and sends them to Kara, letting her know you’re on your way.

You’re watching her reply to a text from some boy she’s seeing when your dad’s ringtone echoes throughout the car, the name on the tiny digital screen the very last name you want to see right now.

Or maybe the very name you’ve been waiting all week to see. Just, on your screen instead of your dad’s.

“Hey, Joel,” your dad calls, and your body instinctively leans in to listen better. Drawn in like a magnet to just the sound of his voice.

“Hey, bud,” he replies. It’s like a punch to your chest. Hands around your throat. Salt behind your eyes. “I just got off the phone with Clark’s, they just dropped that equipment off at the site. Said there wasn’t nobody around to sign for it, so they just left it at the gate.”

“It’s a manned site, what do they mean there wasn’t–?”

“No idea,” Joel says, cutting across him. “Just said there wasn’t anybody to take the delivery.”

Anna’s head slowly turns in your direction, likely to take another dumb selfie or to ask some random question about your outfit, but you turn away, refusing to meet her hazel-eyed stare. Refusing to let her take your attention away from this phone call. From Joel.

Your dad sighs, runs a hand down his cheek. “I hope it’s still there when I get to it. Sure you gave ‘em the right address on Monday?”

“I wrote it down exactly how you text me it.”

Joel’s voice sounds flatter than normal. Less trademark Joel grumbly and more tired, deflated. A little irritated. It bruises your heart hearing him and not chiming in, not teasing him for potentially getting the street name wrong or something. Not letting him know you’re here.

Your dad does that anyway, though.

“Well,” he sighs again, hitting the turn signal, “I’m on my way to Frank’s – girls are havin’ another one of their wild nights out. I’ll head straight from there to the site ‘n make sure everything’s in place. Thanks, Joel.”

“You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.”

The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

No. He was talking to you. He knew you’d be listening. Knew that conversation would mean much more to you than it ever could to your dad. And he knew you’d be hanging on to every word he spoke.

He’s home all night, which translates to: he’s only ever fifteen minutes away if you wind up needing him. If you end up wanting him.

You’ve spent the last four days purposefully stopping yourself from wanting him. Your thumb has hovered over his name in your contacts more times than you’d care to admit. Mostly at night, when your dad goes to bed and there’s eight hours of quiet – quiet you’d usually fill by annoying Joel, striking up a conversation at midnight when he’s about to sleep.

What the fuck would you even say if he did pick up? Would you be mad? Would you yell? Or would you just break down, sob a few incoherent sentences down the line to him and pray that he doesn’t hang up?

But then – would he even pick up? It’s not a thought you want to entertain much. That sound of ringing and ringing, and no gruff, Hey, baby, at the other end.

Your chest hurts. You take a gulp of air.

You’d happily have him never touch you again if he’d just come the fuck back.

Anna slaps your arm and Joel’s face is wiped clean from your mind. “C’mon,” she chirps, and nods out of your window.

You turn to see the faded blue brick walls of Frank’s, clusters of people outside clutching cigarettes and glasses, holding hands up to shield their eyes from the sunlight and tipping their heads back in laughter at one another. Kara stands among them, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. She waves when you catch her eye, stumbling out of the car in a daze.

Anna’s arm links through yours, almost violently, and she skips along the sidewalk to Kara, who joins your chain. The three of you stroll into the bar together and over to Sam, who smiles genially in welcome.

“Hello, ladies,” he sings, leaning in. “What can I do ya for?”

“Get us drunk, Sam!” Anna exclaims, rapping her knuckles on the bar top, and, for the first time tonight, you find yourself nodding in agreement with her.

Get me –

fucking –

hammered.

----------

You get your wish. Sam hands you a cold beer, and within twenty minutes you’re ordering a second. Anna and Kara opt for cocktails, some bright pink concoction that you don’t even bother to ask the name of, you just lean over the bar and tell Sam to make up a third.

And then there are the shots, two each, which are a hysterically terrible idea. You know it as you tip your head back, sickly taste of sambuca spilling down your throat and taking with it the very last of your good sense, apparently.

All the while, that phone call rattles through your head. Joel’s voice swings between your ears like a pendulum. His dry tone, the borderline contempt he spoke to your dad with. The thought of who he’s been with and what he’s been doing either side of that call burns like the drink in your belly, and forces you back up to the bar for another to wash him away with.

You rock against the dark wood, sticky with alcohol, and hoist yourself up onto a stool. “One peer, blease, sir,” you garble to Sam, one finger in the air. “Oh, wait…”

You throw your hand down onto the bar with a roar of laughter and lean back, forgetting there’s no back to your chair. It tilts back, and your hands fumble to grab the edge of the bar, but it’s too far, too late, and you land on the solid floor with a clatter – metal leg of the stool digging into your own.

“Fuck,” you hiss, dragging yourself back to your feet. A thin line of dark red blood cuts from halfway down your calf, streaming down into your boot.

“Are you okay?” Sam yells, stood frozen with the beer and bottle opener still in his hands.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, clambering to your feet. You don’t even convince yourself.

Sam doesn’t let go of the bottle when your fingers curve around it. He looks you dead in the eye and asks, “What’s goin’ on?” and you know he won’t let go until you answer him.

“Nothin’. I’m fine.”

Until you answer him truthfully, that is.

“I’m…It’s just…I got a lot goin’ on up here.” Your shaky finger draws a circle against your temple, and your eyes flutter closed.

“I can see that. Is this really a good ide–”

“Well, howdy, clumsy!”

The owner of whatever fucking annoying voice just shrieked through your ears slaps his hand down on your shoulder, almost toppling you for the second time in five minutes, and you twist around to find a pair of red, blotchy cheeks and almost equally red hair to match, stood before you.

“Hi…?” You squint your eyes to get a better look, the figure swaying with the room behind him.

“Hi.” He’s still smiling. Two huge front teeth, like a pair of overgrown Tic Tacs. “You have no idea who I am, do you? That’s…embarrassing for me.”

“Zack!” another voice screams over the bassline of the music. “Are you fucking coming or not, dude?”

A pale, jittery guy with a dark green t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame barges into the red-haired boy’s side, and a few seconds after his mouth stops moving, you register what he’s said.

“No – f-fucking – way,” you breathe, staring him up and down. His red flannel is tucked into his jeans, sealed by a brown leather belt. There’s a longhorn head on the buckle. “Zack? From Costco? What the fuck’d you do, stalk me?”

He laughs awkwardly, looking from you to over your shoulder, where Sam’s still holding your beer.

“Sorry–” you mutter, shaking your head. “I’m not at my best right now.”

“It’s cool,” he replies, grinning. “You look like you’re having a good night. I’m out with my buddies. This is Eric.”

Eric gives you a nod – his blond fringe jumps, and he jerks his head to sweep it back out of his eyes. “Nice to meet you,” he says, before rounding again on Zack. “Seriously, bro, he says he’s not waitin’ around this time. C’mon!”

“We were gonna head to the rooftop if you wanted to come?” Zack raises his eyebrows, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as Eric and another two figures make off for the stairs at the other end of the bar.

“Sure.” You blindly reach for your beer and Sam relents, letting it slip from his grasp. He calls your name as you trot off, and you turn for one second to give his worried stare a thumbs up, before swirling back toward the stairs. No second thought.

This isn’t the night for second thoughts.

The rooftop is quieter, less crowded. Background noise made up of passing cars, a siren in the distance, and the muffled music from downstairs. You wander over to where Zack stands with Eric and a couple others: a short guy with wireframe glasses, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, and someone you think you almost recognize.

His black V-neck looks like it might burst at the seams around his chest, swollen with muscle. Thick neck, holding up a square jawline, and a face heavy with features which mirror the broad body below.

And a thick smell of marijuana which follows his every move.

Zack shuffles to the side to let you into the circle. You shimmy in between him and Eric.

V-neck pulls a small metal case from his back pocket and fishes a cigarette out of it. Eyes start to shift around the group, the boys glancing over shoulders to check who’s watching.

“Are we…? Is that weed?” you blurt out.

“Shut the fuck up!” Eric hisses, jabbing his elbow into your ribcage.

V-neck eyes you down quickly. It’s the first he looks at you, and it puts a sickly feeling through your body. Sends the alcohol hurtling over itself in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows and wrap your arms around yourself, your beer bottle against your lips. “Sorry, jeez…”

“This is Knox,” Zack mutters, as Knox lights the cigarette.

He takes one hit, inhaling deeply with his chin in the air, and passes it to the boy in the hoodie. Another cloud of smoke joins Knox’s, slowly dispersing above your heads, and then it’s Eric’s turn. With a cough, his fist against his lips, he passes it to Zack. Soon, the air around you is thick and white, and Zack’s handing you the joint.

You lift it to your lips and inhale. The feeling hits you instantly; your body feels light, your face warm, your eyes blink in and out of focus, watching as a blurry shadow begins to follow your hand when you pass the joint back to Knox.

A couple more circuits, and the roach is pressed into the ground by Knox’s boot. The group separates; Zack and his friends fall into some metal chairs around a table, sparking up a debate on the best Lord of the Rings film, and you float around nearby.

“You a friend of Zack’s?” Knox asks, downing what’s left of his whiskey.

“Hm…Not really. We met at Costco, ‘cause I was there to get some party stuff for my dad’s friend’s daughter’s– Well, she’s my friend, too, and she wanted this garden party, and my dad’s friend was like, What the fuck is a garden party? you know, so I had to go help ‘im get stuff for it, with my dad, who was kinda a buzzkill, but anyway…Z-Zack helped me lift some sodas into my cart.”

Knox nods once. Fingers locked tight around his empty glass. He’s staring you down like you’re fresh meat.

You purse your lips and stare back, but quickly get bored when he doesn’t speak, and you miss Anna and her selfies and her sambuca shots. As you’re about to wander back to the door, though, Knox steps in front of you.

“So, you’re here often, then?”

Your shoulder knocks into his. “Huh?”

“Saw you last week. You were pretty spaced, don’t know if you remember.”

The memory whips past your eyes quicker than you can catch it, frames lingering only long enough for you to see Knox’s thick arm linked with yours outside Frank’s, the smell of weed in your nostrils, and the bright lights of Joel’s truck. And then it’s gone, before you can get a good grip of it.

“I’m…I remember now. Yeah. No, I’m not here much, I just…Rough week.”

He nods again, and you suspect he hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said since he got you alone. “You want another drink?”

The way he’s looking at you makes you feel more and more nauseous. Makes you want to turn and run back downstairs, slot in beside Anna and Kara, bury yourself between their shoulders and stay there until they decide they want to go home.

It makes you feel the way it felt last week, when he halted you outside the bar on your way to Joel. And suddenly the memory is soaring in front of your eyes again.

Your hand on Joel’s elbow. The frown on his face. Whitened knuckles around the steering wheel. ‘s go, pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl.

“Yeah,” you tell Knox. “Yeah, I do.”

You follow him downstairs where he nods to Sam at the bar.

Sam ignores him, instead glares at you. “Can we talk…?” he asks, but Knox cuts across him.

“Beer, right?” he checks with you, and you nod. “And another whiskey.”

Your friend hesitantly grabs the drinks, glancing up at you every five seconds in a question. You respond by nodding slowly, feeling your head bounce each time you do.

You lazily scan the room for Anna and Kara, who you spot in a booth over by the window. The spotlights overhead reflect in the sparkles of Anna’s dress; Kara’s holding the straw of her drink between her lips, bobbing her head to the music. You saunter over, twirling on your way.

“Where have you been, baby?” Anna calls, giggling when you fall against the booth, palms flat on the wooden table.

“Upstairs,” you mumble, and then feel a tap on your back.

“Forgot this,” Knox says, pushing the beer into your hand. “You wanna go dance?”

Anna’s face twists into one of worry, and you give her an apologetic smile and spin off, following the wide frame to a dark corner of the bar where he takes your wrist and pulls your body against his.

He’s not doing much dancing, rather, he’s just keeping a solid grip on your waist, watching as you rock side to side, taking a couple shallow sips of your drink. You pull on his arm, Fucking move, dude, but he only leans further back, until he’s shrouded in shadows and pulling you into them with him.

When he leans into your space and snakes a drunken arm tight around your neck, you don’t retreat. You lean in, too, and plant your lips on his.

It’s messy, it’s a little gross. He tastes sour, weed and alcohol on his tongue, and it makes you wish you’d never started kissing him. Still, you take it further. You open your mouth more, letting more of him in, soak your own tongue, wet your lips. You barely even feel it when his hands move south and cup your ass, and it’s only when he squeezes that you wriggle out of his grip.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking hold of his sleeve to steady yourself. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, says something short that you don’t hear, and you lean back against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He’s smaller, much shorter than Joel. Your shoulders almost match the height of his. But he’s more built, he’s bulkier, in an uncomfortable way. Like trying to put your arms around a giant balloon or something. There’s no softness, no enclosing feeling when your weight presses against his. Just the huge surface of his chest, the hollow feeling of two mismatched bodies unwillingly pushed together.

Not strong. Not safe. Not secure. Not him.

But you’re kissing him again, because it’s the first time in five days you’ve felt something other than your aching chest and heavy head. You’re kissing him because you feel unwanted and unloved and, even though he seems almost as hammered as you are, it feels good to have someone want to be on you.

You’re kissing him because you’re trying to pretend it’s Joel.

Only he tastes…well, disgusting, and he smells different. He’s sweating from the heat in the bar, and his arms aren’t placed somewhere to make you feel wrapped in his grasp, they’re placed anywhere that he can pinch, squeeze, or otherwise fondle.

Joel’s face swims in and out of your head; a smile as he pulls you in for a kiss, a smirk when he’s telling you off, soft eyes when he’s listening to you talk. It makes you want to throw up.

That might just be the drinks.

Someone taps you furiously on the shoulder, and you push Knox off your body.

When your eyes fail to meet Sam’s, he takes your wrist and drags you behind the bar, ripping the beer bottle from your grasp and almost launching it into the sink. It smashes, and the liquid pours down the drain.

“Hey, what the f–?”

“I’m gonna call your dad,” he yells, deafening to your numb ears.

“Do not fucking call my dad,” you slur, laughing a little. “I’m fine! I’m having fun.”

“You’re fucking wasted. And that guy – he’s bad news.”

“Does it matter?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Who even are–? What the fuck is up with you right now? Yes, it fucking matters!”

“Not my dad,” you repeat as you back away, staggering over to the booth where your friends sit.

Anna storms over to meet you, slipping her wrist around yours and bringing you to a halt. “Did Sam find you?” she asks. Her hands plant on your shoulders, and she dips her head until you’re eye to eye.

She’s blurry. She’s nothing but shapes, and movements, and noises. And she’s fucking pissing you off.

“Can everyone just – get the fuck off of me?” you groan, stumbling backwards, and Anna links her hands with yours to stop you from collapsing.

She pulls you back upright, leaning in close. Her head shakes, you can see that much. But her expression is cloudy, and her hands don’t let go of yours so easily when you try to pull away. The orb-like shapes in front of you mutter your name, only it’s not Anna’s voice, it’s his.

Anna’s babbling, panicked tone drives through your skull. “She’s been drinking, like, a lot, and I think she might’ve had some weed upstairs. But Sam said he saw –”

“C’mon, kid,” his voice says again, and there’s a heavy arm pulling you off to the door.

“Get – off – of – me.” You struggle in his grasp, pushing his body away from yours, fingers expecting to find the V-neck collar of a black shirt and instead finding –

Buttons. The edges of a green flannel shirt. And a soft cotton tee underneath. And then his scent washes over you: warm, sweet, earthy. Grounding.

“Joel…” you whisper, thick with fear and intoxication and need.

His jaw angles down, you catch one fleeting glimpse of his chin, graying beard, tight lips hidden beneath it, and then you’re shoving his chest again, attempting to push him as far away from your own body as he’ll go.

Only he doesn’t move.

“Fuck off,” you seethe, palms flat on his pecs. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He says your name in a hazy blur, says, “We’re goin’ home,” and you almost laugh in his face.

“I don’t f-fucking think so.”

“Yeah? Well, I do. Thanks, Anna, I got her.”

“Hey,” a fourth voice joins the chorus, “hey, you know this guy?”

Knox pushes past Joel’s arm, unlinking your fingers from his, and takes your shoulder with one rough hand. All your anger, all your rage at Joel, and yet, the second you’re separated from him, the only thing on your mind is having his hand back around yours.

Joel’s upper lip twitches, he stares at the back of Knox’s head and then scoffs, reaches by him again to take your wrist. You let him have it. “Come on,” he says.

Knox is rounding on him, holding Joel back with a palm flat to his chest. “I ain’t too comfortable lettin’ her head outta here with some random old man, dude…”

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the –

Joel’s jaw ticks. His expression falls blank, narrowed eyes looking up and down Knox’s frame as you tremble behind it, Anna’s steady arm around your shoulders.

“Take your hand off of me, and move aside,” he snarls, voice dangerous. You can hear the threat, and at the same time, the desperate attempt from within himself to hold off.

“Hey,” Anna reaches forward, tapping Knox’s shoulder three times with a glittery nail, “she knows him. It’s fine. He’s fine.”

“Nah, man,” Knox hisses back, “who the fuck even are you? You ain’t takin’ her anywhere.”

You step forward, putting yourself between the two of them, hands clumsily landing on each of their shoulders. “He’s a f…my dad’s friend,” you slur, eyes unfocused.

Knox isn’t listening. He hasn’t listened the entire fucking night. His eyes are set on Joel’s as he wraps a tight fist around your free arm, trying to pull you closer to him. Only he’s hurting you, and your fingers struggle to pry yourself free, so you look up at Joel.

You couldn’t see Anna’s expression. Couldn’t make out the worry on her face that her voice clued you in on. You could barely even see Sam, when he dragged you out of the dark corner of the bar.

But you can see Joel. See the shadow his brows cast over his glower, see his thin lips, see the tightening of his jaw. See the rage inside him like it’s an alarm beacon, flashing red from behind his eyes.

Knox tugs angrily on your wrist. “You just gonna let this asshole ruin your night?”

“Let go of m-me,” you murmur, suddenly feeling the bar’s eyes on you. Your face reddens with heat from the alcohol, doubled by your embarrassment.

When he hears you, Joel’s face contorts into one you’ve never seen on his face in your life. Fury, disgust and fury, twisting his lip and tugging on his brows. He leans in and rips yours and Knox’s hands apart, pulling you free and shifting you behind his body with as much effort as it’d take him to click his fingers. Your weak hand reaches out to take a fistful of his shirt, holding onto him at his spine.

The men square up to one another, Joel at least four inches taller and, despite Knox’s built form, far broader. Knox takes a step forward and Joel matches.

“Joel…” you whisper, catching Anna’s gaping stare over his shoulder.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Miller?” Sam edges in from behind Knox. “I’m gonna have to ask that you…don’t…do this, but if you have to, can y’all maybe move it out to the street?”

“Do I gotta do somethin’?” Joel asks Knox. You pull in closer to his back, trying to hide your face from the spotlight cast on you by what feels like thousands of drunken eyes staring directly at you.

Knox thinks it over for a moment. You can see Zack watching like a deer in the headlights from behind his buddy. He’s seen Joel before, and you know from the way his eyes stick on him that he recognizes him. Remembers how briskly he swept you out of the soft drinks section, how blunt he was about it.

The V-neck swells with the deep inhale its wearer takes, and then he shakes his head, sighing. Smug smirk thick across his lips.

“Nah, man. I didn’t think she was gonna be worth the fuck anyways, so.”

Joel clicks his teeth, gives his head one quick shake, mutters a resigned, “Alright,” then reaches back, and nudges you gently by the stomach until you’re safely out of reach.

And then he swings.

Once, catching Knox across the corner of his jaw, sending his face skyward. The crowd around the three of you gasps. Knox’s burly chest twists, and he staggers backward. His hands come up to clutch his face before Joel’s taking the collar of his shirt in his fist, reeling him in and holding him steady.

“Joel!” you yell, but he doesn’t fucking hear you.

His second blow lands square on Knox’s nose with a crack loud enough even for your numb ears to hear over the thudding music. Blood sprays from his nostrils and floods down into his mouth, smearing across his cheek as Joel’s knuckles ricochet off the square face. The crimson pours down his chin, spattering onto his shirt, bright and shocking against the stretched black material.

Joel lets him drop and he collapses onto all fours, coughing blood and spit and whatever the fuck else onto the dark floor.

“Fuck!” Knox screams, fingers trembling over his burst nose – thick, dark droplets running down his hands. “You motherfucker, you broke my fucking nose!”

Joel stoops down, takes the back of Knox’s shirt in two rough hands and hauls him up until he’s limp on his knees.

“I ever see you around here again,” he growls, “I ever find out you’ve been anywhere near her, as much as looked in the same fuckin’ direction as her, I’ll do worse ‘n break your Goddamn nose. You hear me?”

Knox whimpers, more blood dribbles from between his lips, and Joel throws him down. He turns back to you, massaging his knuckles with his thumb, and grabs your hand.

Your voice is weak with shock. “What the f-uck was that?”

“Just – come on,” he says, dragging you out of Frank’s without another word.

He leads your wobbly form down the street, past chattering crowds toward his black truck, opening the door for you and helping your unsteady limbs up into the passenger side, before he closes the door over and strides around to the driver’s side.

When he shuts his door – more of a slam – he sighs, head leaning back. His hand clenches and then relaxes, loosening his knuckles, hissing anytime the quickly-darkening skin stretches.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“What you sorry for?”

You shrug. Your mouth trips over words. “…gettin’ you into a barfight.”

He doesn’t look over at you. Just Hms and switches the ignition on, pulling away from the busy curb.

“Where’s m-my dad?” you slur.

“Work. Site inspection, remember?”

You nod, turning back to the road when you start to feel motion sick. Your eyes feel like they’re spinning in their sockets, your stomach flips with the slightest turn. “He get that delivery?” you ask, letting Joel know you heard the phone call earlier.

His jaw turns in your direction. Letting you know he knows you heard it. “Yeah. He’ll be home in a couple hours.”

“Did Sam c-call him?”

“No. Why?”

You lean your head against the passenger window, the cold distracting your brain from the ache in your head. The streetlights sail by in a blur. The engine rattles through the glass.

“Asked ‘im not to.”

“Yeah? ‘n why’s that?”

Your head rolls back onto the headrest as you decide on an answer. I didn’t want him seeing me drunk and high. I don’t care about you seeing me drunk and high. I just wanted to see you.

“’s never seen me drunk.”

“Or high?”

You snort. “I’m not…”

When your head slants to the left to look at Joel, his face turns from yours. He was just looking at you, and you missed it. Probably had that look on his face, that Nice try, kid expression.

“Okay…” you admit, spiritless, “a little high, then.”

“Anna was the one who called,” Joel says. “Said you were hammered, some guy was all over you, ‘n Sam watched him put somethin’ in your drink. They couldn’t find you anywhere. She was fuckin’ hysterical.”

Your head bobs with the moving truck. “When’d he put someth…?”

Joel shrugs. “I dunno. But I believe it.”

So do I, you think. Knox was on you from the minute he saw you. Tight grip around your waist, your wrist, drawing you into him with beer and weed and whatever else he had in his pockets. The comment that had warranted him two bone-breaking punches from Joel all but confirmed the intentions he had in mind. And now you feel fucking stupid.

“I didn’t really…I only had a couple sips of it,” you hear yourself saying, head heating with embarrassment – an attempt to convince him, or maybe more yourself, that you’re not as dumb as leaving your drink to be roofied.

Your voice sounds pathetic, though, and Joel doesn’t say anything to make you feel better. Doesn’t say anything to make you feel worse, either – the silence does that by itself.

You bring your knees up to your chin, nestling a little into the seat. It could almost feel like nothing’s happened, nothing’s changed, except you’re intoxicated, and Joel’s hands are firmly by his person. Not on your thigh, or tangled between your fingers like they usually would be.

You study him. Stare at every part of him like it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see it, until the gentle curve of his nose and the glint of his watch face are burned into the back of your eyelids when you close them over. Face lit red from the brake lights in front, right hand sitting idly on his thigh.

He looks like your Joel. Almost. Just a little closed off. Distant.

But he came to get you, right? Damn near punched Knox’s lights out, took you by the hand, led you back to the safety of his truck. He came straight to Frank’s as soon as Anna called. And he’s taking you home. He’s looking out for you.

So why doesn’t he feel like your Joel?

Well. You can wager a pretty solid guess. It starts with L and ends with comma, Receptionist at Clark’s Plant Hire.

The dark silhouette of your house looms overhead as Joel pulls into your drive. Sure enough, your dad’s not home.

The engine cuts and your head drops, eyes fixing on your hands clasped in your lap. You know Joel’s watching you. What the fuck is he thinking about?

Fuck that. Don’t think about that. Let’s not dive into that pool of imagination.

“Well, thanks.” You do your best to smile, without really looking at him. Your fingers find the door handle and you tug on it, pushing it open and spilling out onto your driveway.

You hear Joel sniff behind you. “Need a hand?”

“I’m good,” you call back, only just managing to stay on your feet.

The cold air helps a little to waken you up, sharpen your senses, but the world around you is still a whir of dull color and shapelessness, and you wobble across to the house in a route of zig-zags, boots almost tripping over thin air as you go. When you reach your front door, you hear his truck lock and the shadow of him appears by your side.

“I said I’m good.”

“I ain’t leaving you, kid. You’re hammered.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but then he’s taking the keys out of your hand and unlocking the door himself, hand on your back as he ushers you into your own house.

“I’m f-fine,” you repeat, tripping over the doorway.

“Look it.”

You meander over to the stairs, and when your foot manages to find the first step, Joel says your name. Your gaze sweeps across the floor until it meets his boots, travels up his legs, and finally rests on his outstretched hand.

“Water,” he tells you.

“I’m fine,” you say, the word losing meaning the more you utter it. “I wanna go – to bed.”

He shakes his head, and then tilts it in the direction of the kitchen.

You groan, mumble something about him being such an asshole, and walk straight by his hand.

Joel doesn’t react. Just follows you and hits the lights, which burn your eyes when they flicker to life. You wince and point up to them.

“Off,” you bluntly order, and he grunts, stepping back to oblige. You’re plunged straight back into darkness.

You’re holding yourself unsteadily against the edge of the kitchen island, whole body swaying. The room is fucking spinning, the lights out back swirling with it in a blur of white motion before your eyes. You swallow dryly and turn around to focus on Joel.

He’s filling a glass over the sink. “What happened to your leg?” he asks over his shoulder.

You turn your knee, examining the dent in your calf where the stool leg cut into you. The dry burgundy stain like a backwards seam line on your skin, emerging from a bright red bruise slowly fading to deep purple.

“Fell off a stool,” you mutter, angling it in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Joel Hms again. “You got anything to cover it?”

You shrug, having lost any and all energy to barter back with him. He slides the glass across the countertop to you, followed by a bottle of painkillers, then turns back to the open drawer he pulled them from and begins rummaging for a band-aid.

Your shaky hand lifts the glass to your lips. It’s cold and slippery in your grasp, drops of condensation running over your fingers like the blood from Knox’s nose had run over his. The more you tighten your grip, the harder it becomes to hold, until it’s sliding from your clutch.

“Easy,” Joel murmurs, appearing at the side of you and placing his hands over yours, holding the glass still.

“Your knuckles are bleeding,” you say, eyes focusing and then unfocusing on the marks at the base of his fingers, the dabs of dark red where the skin has burst.

He slowly lowers your hands until the glass is safely back on the counter, and then pulls away from you, drawing his swollen knuckles in to his body.

“They’re bleedin’,” you repeat, looking up at him.

“I know they’re bleedin’.”

“Let me see,” you step forward, “Joel. Let me–”

He catches your hands in his. Pushes them back down. Stares at the counter, sighs instead of replying.

Your eyes sting, filling with tears that crowd your already-blurred vision. The punch you feel to your gut brings you to your senses as if it drains you of every substance in your system all at once.

It’s like he’s broken up with you all over again. And it pisses you the fuck off.

“Fuck you,” you whisper into the dark, and he doesn’t move. Doesn’t lift his eyes, doesn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, so much.”

You’re staring him down, what little you can see of him in the pale light cascaded onto him through the shades. The crease between his brows, more prominent with the frown on his face; the line his lips form with the tight clench of his jaw.

Fucking look at me, you think. He can say something back – anything. You can stand and hiss horrible words at one another, yell at each other if that’s what he wants to do. Argue until you’re blue in the face, until the alcohol’s all dried up and the moonlight on his chest is replaced by sunlight. Just fucking look at me.

“You’re an asshole and a liar, you know that?”

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Just stringing me along this whole time.”

You blink away the tears before they can fall, making room for more. They’re forming rapidly, each time heavier, and thicker, and angrier. But fuck it, right? This is over. He’s done, and you’re done. Just ignore the pain of it, stick your finger in the wound and keep pushing until you hit bone.

“That guy you punched? He was all over me. All fucking night.”

Joel’s voice is toneless. He’s already over the conversation before it’s begun. “I know he was, kid.”

“We kissed.”

“I know that, too.”

“Had his hands all over me. ‘n if it hadn’t been him, it woulda been literally any other guy in there.”

The words are starting to bleed into one another in your inebriated state. Anger turning to rage turning to fear turning to shame turning to hurt turning back into anger.

“Woulda kissed any one of ‘em. Mighta let them take me home, mighta let them fuck me.”

His head gives an involuntary shake and he blinks. Like he’s trying to wash the thought away. The image of you under someone else, moaning someone else’s name, pulling someone else into your body.

“That piss you off? It make you hate me?”

And then he looks up. Finally, his gaze locks with yours. And his eyes are just as glassy, just as fucking full of tears as yours. He replies with the worst thing he could possibly come up with. It forces the breath from your lungs in a painful exhale.

“There ain’t a thing in this world that you could do that would make me hate you, you know that.”

And then your tears start to fall. Your façade breaks. Stone crumbles. Dam bursts. They fall onto your cheeks, searing on your heated skin, rolling down onto the front of your dress in dark splatter marks.

Through a sob, you choke out another, “Fuck you, Joel,” and then, when you catch your breath, “you don’t get to – to sleep with someone else, and make me feel like the idiot for it.”

He looks up at you with a dark expression, lips locked tight like he’s refusing to let something slip. He shakes his head, and then says, “Can we not have this conversation right now?”

You scoff. A drunken, angry scoff. “You don’t wanna talk about her? When’s a good fuckin’ time, then? When suits you and f-fuckin’ – Lois?”

He falls quiet. Presses his fingers into his eyes. Sighs. “Baby,” he says into his palms.

“’m not your fucking baby,” you whisper between your teeth.

“Baby.” He drops his hands. Looks you dead in the eye. “I did not sleep with Lois.”

You’re frozen to the spot. Your lips fall apart, coated in salty tears. You’re holding your breath, though you’re not sure what for. The room stops spinning for all of ten seconds until he speaks again.

“I didn’t. I know what that message sounded like. Know how you musta heard it. But nothin’ happened, nothin’ has ever happened. Nothin’ would ever happen,” he says, a little more animated, tossing his hands in the air.

You stare between his eyes. He’s still enough that your fucked brain can focus on them, can see plain as day – even in the dark kitchen, even through your cloudy tears and all of the poison in your blood – that he’s telling the truth.

“Ex-plain,” you say dryly, looking down to his lips.

Joel sighs again. “I told you I had work to do. Had to head over to Clark’s to order that stuff for your dad. Saw her there, said hi. ‘n that’s all.”

Your eyes slowly close over, wet lashes on hot, dehydrated skin. Your ears are ringing, your body aching. You breathe a sigh as what he says sinks into your slow, throbbing brain, and then lull to one side, slumping against the counter.

“You didn’t…you didn’t think this was worth tellin’ me on Monday?”

“Tried, baby. You were gone. You were so angry; thought it’d be better if I let you cool off.”

“You’re – a fucking – idiot,” you seethe, shaking your head. It’s starting to pound again, sharp pain right behind your eyes like they’re being tugged backwards.

“Well, tonight, I guess that makes two of us.”

You grimace at him. “Lettin’ me go for four fuckin’ days thinking that –”

“– thinkin’ that I would actually cheat on ya? ‘s that what you think a’ me?”

“What did you ex-pect? You didn’t exactly try to – c-clear it up.” You step back, lifting a hand to cup your forehead with a groan. A mix of frustration, pain, and exhaustion in the form of a slow-moving ache hauls its way from one temple to the other.

“Baby, I gotta get you to bed,” Joel says, stepping forward. “We can talk about this when you’re able to see straight.”

“I’m fine,” you whimper, but it’s the least convincing you’ve sounded all night.

“Kid–”

“Don’t fucking call me kid. Like it’s some pet name, like you give a damn about me–”

“You think I don’t give a damn about you? You think I don’t care?”

Your head wobbles in response. It sends the room hurtling again, Joel’s figure swimming in and out of your vision. You grab the countertop again in attempt to freeze him in place.

He tuts and turns his jaw. “You know how much sleep I’ve had these last few days? Not a fuckin’ minute. I ain’t slept a single night, worryin’ about you ‘n what’s goin’ through your head. Like I give a damn about you. I wish I didn’t give a damn about you, baby. Make my life a whole lot easier.”

“Then, show me. Fucking prove it to me.”

“Prove it to you how? Break some asshole’s nose in a bar? Take you home when you’re wasted?”

Yeah. And also, no. Not just that.

You seethe. “You know what the fuck I mean. Do something about it.”

“I can’t,” he says, raising his voice. “Can’t take you out on dates, can’t put my arm around you, can’t kiss you ‘less there ain’t nobody watchin’. I can’t do none of what I wanna do. This is – it’s fuckin’…”

“…impossible,” you breathe, thick and slurred.

Joel lifts his head then, sees the look in your eye. He sniffs. “’s pretty damn hard, yeah.”

You tip your head back, feel the weight of your tears and your eyes and your brain slap against the back of your skull, a nauseating pull at the nape of your neck. You’re defeated. Nothing left in you to argue, talk, even so much as breathe.

Your words drag between one another, each one beginning with the remnants of the one before it.

“Just - take me to bed.”

He’s standing inches from you, hands hovering over your own, hesitant or unwilling or fucking afraid to touch you.

You ball your fists against his chest and give him one tiny, ineffective shove. But he’s bigger, stronger, sober. He doesn’t budge. Accepting defeat, you breathe one last, “Fuck you,” and brush past him, staggering out of the kitchen.

Joel – water and painkillers in hand – watches you like a hawk going upstairs, arms braced for you to lean on anytime you begin to tumble backward. When you do, his hand brushes your elbow, and you whip it out of his reach and reel it back in to your body.

He settles you on the bed just like he did six days ago, after your rodeo night. Only he doesn’t kneel, doesn’t take your boots off. Just walks away, grabs a tee from your chest of drawers and hands it to you to slip into by yourself.

You don’t even have to open your eyes. You know which one he’s given you. Can tell from the feel of the material, the cracked lettering on the chest, that it’s his Rangers shirt, the same one he put on you the first night you slept together. Smells more like you than it does him these days, but feels just like he always does. And as he waits a safe two-feet from you for you to change, no hands reaching out to help, to fix your hair, to stroke your cheek – you think the shirt will just have to do.

Everything he does is close enough for you to recognize him as Joel, and yet distant enough for him to be someone totally different. Every move he makes is pre-determined, all outcomes already analyzed and mapped, all risks carefully averted. It’s like he’s walking a minefield.

He hands you a couple of pills and helps with lifting the water to your lips. Then he sits at the end of your bed and applies the band-aid while you drag a makeup wipe clumsily over your face.

His thumbs linger on your fucked leg, rubbing over the padded dressing a few times after it’s stuck on, gentle and slow. Eyes never leaving the spot your skin broke open. And then, when you’re done with it, he takes the makeup wipe and quickly runs it down your calf, cleaning the dry blood from your skin.

Touch as delicate as though he were holding a rose – fingers brushing over your body like you might tear or fall apart at the slightest movement. When he’s done, he makes his way around to the opposite side of the bed.

“There’s a sleeping bag in the hall closet if you’d rather take the floor,” you tell him, rolling back and pulling your knees to your chin.

“Nah,” Joel says with the groan of a near-fifty-year-old man, kicking his boots off and propping his pillows up. “We’re close enough by now.”

He pulls the flannel from his shoulders and tosses it to the end of the bed, then slips in under the covers beside you, clasping his hands on his chest. His entire body a perfectly polite distance away.

Your wrist lifts, weak and limp, and your fingers ghost across his red wine knuckles. He winces a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches as you trace the curves of his hands, surfing the valleys where the bone drops, then back up to the peaks where the blood breaks from his skin.

“You didn’t have to…” you whisper. “He was just some dirtbag.”

He sniffs. Replies to you in his head, translated through the look in his eye. Wasn’t all about the dirtbag.

And you know it. Knox was just an asshole who took the hit for the last four days. Sure, he deserved it. But his big, ugly face and the uglier words which happened to tumble out of it were simply a punchbag full of sand; Joel’s fist hammering into it was as much about defending you as it was about punishing someone, anyone, the first fucker who wound up on the wrong side of him, for everything that had happened.

He's angry. At himself and at you and at this entire fucking mess. And you’re angry. At yourself and at him and at the very same thing. The two of you lie side by side in the dark, both broken and bruised and bleeding. You let out a small, pathetic sigh, and Joel echoes it.

His eyes close over and you stare at him. Stare at the faint lines on his face that slowly fade as he relaxes more, falls closer and closer to sleeping. Watch his chest slowly rising and falling, and his hands moving up and down with it. His entire body is still. Like it’s the first calm he’s had in a while. The first time he’s been able to settle.

And you stare at him. For hours, feels like. You stare at him until sleep, or alcohol, or something stronger coats over your vision and sweeps him out of focus.

----------

The wall opposite your window is lit with a single stripe of bright, nauseating orange, the sunrise staring in between your drapes. There are birds screaming outside. Your head is still throbbing and your throat feels like splintered wood and the other side of your bed is empty.

He can’t have left long ago. The mattress is still warm under the sheets he’s folded back over. His shirt is sat folded on the pillowcase.

You grab it and haul yourself out of bed – head still spinning, you trip out of your room.

He’s gotta be in the kitchen. He’ll be standing at the counter drinking a coffee, he’ll mumble a Mornin’, then pull you in and kiss the top of your head. He’ll ask how you’re feeling and if you want some breakfast. He’ll be Joel again.

“Joel…?” you call, rounding the bottom of the stairs toward the kitchen. No response.

The clock on the oven reads 5:57. The kitchen is deserted. When you loop around the island – as if he’d be crouched behind it or something – you notice an empty mug sitting in the sink, trails of black coffee at the bottom.

Your shaking hands cup around the ceramic. It’s cooling, but it’s warm.

He’s been in here.

“Joel!” you yell. Come out, now, this ain’t funny anymore.

You hear the squeak of wheels rolling to a stop outside and flee over to the living room windows, daybreak burning your eyes when you peer through the shades.

You’re frantically searching, going blind with the bright rays singeing your corneas, pacing back and forth between each window to get an angle on the street that will show you his truck. Show you him.

You don’t even notice the sound of keys in the door, or the rattle it makes as it pushes open.

“Hey, kiddo.”

You whip around. The owner of the voice lifts a hand to his puffy eyes and rubs them, yawning.

“H-hi, Dad.”

You look fucking insane. Hair all over the place, makeup haphazardly removed, Joel’s flannel shirt hanging from your fist. Wearing nothing but a long tee, a blood-seeped band-aid on your calf.

“Good night?” he says with a sleepy chuckle. “I am pooped. You want anythin’ before I head up to bed?”

You shake your head, but he’s not looking. Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“Alright, I’m gonn–”

“Where’s Joel?”

Your desperation has reached a new high. Your pride, a new low. You just want him back, don’t care who knows or thinks or suspects what. Just come back.

“Huh?”

“Joel? He brought me home and I woke up and he’s gone.”

“He – Well, I…I suppose he’ll be at work, hon. He can’t stick around here all day.” He smiles weakly, and then swivels on his heels.

“He text you?”

He sighs, his back still turned. “What has gotten into…? Here.”

Your dad twists and throws his phone toward you. It lands on the carpet at your feet. Then he turns back and begins climbing the stairs.

“See ya in a few hours.”

When he turns the corner on the landing and his footsteps fade out of earshot, you bend and your fingers clutch his phone.

He has one unread text from Joel.

You unlock the phone with a click and open up the message thread. Your half-drunk, half-sleepy eyes flit across the screen, leaning back against the arm of the couch to read every word he ever sent your dad.

Joel: She’s in bed. Sat with her for a bit to make sure she didn’t roll onto her back. She’s a little worse for wear. I got a job up in Waco I need to be at in an hour, so I gotta head.

You scroll further back.

Joel: She okay?

Joel: Sarah says she hasn’t heard from her in a few days. We can come over for dinner tonight if you reckon that might help?

Further back still.

Joel: Sure, not doing anything anyway. Sarah in Nashville. Tell her to text me when she’s ready to be picked up. Hope she enjoys her rodeo night 🤠

Joel: Table booked for 6. Get you both at 5:45. Looking forward to it.

You scroll until your eyes hurt.

Joel: No answer. She’ll be home soon I bet.

Joel: You ever seen Grey’s Anatomy? Pretty good TV

Joel: Your daughter available tonight to help me put up stuff for Sarah coming home? I fear what might happen if I attempt it myself

You read the final message, the first thing he sent your dad after you got home. Six days in. He’d driven you home from work.

Joel: No problem, wouldn’t have her walking home in the rain. Was nice to see her again. She’s a sweetheart.

You’re laid back across the couch, your legs hanging over the armrest. You drop the phone to your chest and stare up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling a lot more sober.

She’s a sweetheart.

Your throat tightens around a sob. Like a fist clenching around your neck, crushing your breath to nothing. Your eyes well, tears slowly flood across your vision and then spill over, running rapidly down to your ears and seeping into the fabric of the couch. You’re still silent. Still unable to open your mouth.

You’re doing everything you can to hold back. To stop it from happening. But your chest feels like it could burst, and your eyes are screwing shut tighter and tighter, and your body curls up like an animal succumbing to a mortal wound, and then –

Then, you break.

It forces its way from your throat, hammering against the sides of your mouth before it’s escaping, tearing away from your lips and hurtling skyward. A deep, violent exhale. Broken, and painful, and heavy.

There’s no one to hold back for. Just you, sat in your living room, clutching the flannel of a man who doesn’t want you anymore.

Your breath stammers, shudders against the palms of your hands as your fingertips massage your eyes. You’re crying like a little kid, and it’s not making you feel any better, but no matter what you do, it won’t stop.

And you don’t know why. You tell yourself that: I don’t know why I’m crying. Almost laugh when you think it through to yourself: sobbing at 6AM over someone you were sleeping with, for all of, what, four weeks? I don’t know why the fuck I’m crying.

Except – you do. You do. And you’re totally, completely, undeniably fucked.

You sigh and close your eyes.

You are – fucked.

----------

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generalsdiary · 4 months

Text

Dr. Ratio w/ Kavetham parents (x Aventurine)

warnings: none

word count: 5.7k

a/n: after the intro (one or two paragraphs) it switches to Ratio’s pov dw (beginning with the first line of dialogue), also if you don’t like the Aventio ship- it is only mentioned after half of the writing. and in case you’re only here for Aventio- it begins halfway. tho I do recommend reading the full work for the best experience ^^

description: let's talk about Ratio's parents. I have been going on and leaving comments/hiding in hashtags here and there about how much I like the theory/fanon of Alhaitham and Kaveh being his parents (fluff, nostalgia)

now let us take into consideration that Teyvat does exist in the canon of Star Rail- and (if you've read/watched a few analysis) you might know that the planet on the loading screen is literally Teyvat- and now if you're questioning how is it separated from everything (read; not getting checked by the IPC) and similar- well.. it is locked off of any access. I'm truly not the right person to dwell into this, so do explore more about that if it has piqued your interest, and without further ado, these are my thoughts on our favorite canon couple in Genshin being Ratio's parents.

I can see Veritas coming back home (by some means) and his dads being just over the moon delighted to see him.

Kaveh would most likely ask him to sculpt something with him. Veritas, as it is portrayed, he sculpts mostly himself, and (in Kaveh’s voice lines he says sculpting is his hobby) Kaveh enjoys that as well. so, it makes perfect sense that Kaveh taught him that, just a little Veritas wobbling around and putting his hands into the grayish looking water, little hands shaping the sculpture- Kaveh giggling at the sight, gods Kaveh would look so beautiful in that setting, Alhaitham smiling fondly- he won’t touch the water or the statue- the texture ain’t right. so, when adult Veritas comes back home for a longer visit, of course Kaveh insists on his son sculpting something with him.

“how have you been, Veritas? it has been quiet without you rambling with yourself in the middle of the night about the problems of the world” Kaveh snickers and pours fresh ground coffee.

“I do hope you have been taking care of yourself, you shouldn’t let your job rule over your private life.” Alhaitham adds.

“I- I have been fine, and no my job isn’t suffocating me, dad.” He answers in that annoyed voice reminding his fathers of a teenager. “I never said suffocating.” Alhaitham quietly adds, his son revealing himself in his word choice. He doesn’t comment any further. The obvious is clear to all three men.

he goes to his room, fresh, clean as if he never left. his walls covered in sheets of paper with math equations, sketches of various buildings (even an attempt to sketch his father’s beautiful work of the palace of Alcazarzaray), quotes from those close to him in case memory ever betrayed him. the warm sunlight dripping into his room, the scent of spices, fresh coffee, herbal tea and warm cotton letting him know that he is home. nostalgia isn’t something he allows to rule over him, but in this moment, he is weak to it and indulges in the safety of his room. the rough texture of the sheets soothes him and all the puzzle pieces seem to fall in their place. he needed this. his dads, this vacation. he falls asleep with a small smile on his face that night, there’s perhaps no better place to be than home.

little kid Veritas was truly born into the right family with his intellect. perfect parents to take care of all of his “quirks”, and hunger for knowledge. and, Alhaitham and Kaveh are so proud of the man he grew up to be, “you know that love for math and numbers, is all you.” Alhaitham comments, not raising his gaze from the book in his hand, the early morning sun just barely grazing the room. Kaveh smiles and walks over to his partner, his lips leaving a soft kiss on the top of the younger man’s head, “he is equally you and me, Alhaitham.” both men smile for the next minute, Alhaitham’s free arm moving around Kaveh’s waist since he stood right next to where he sat. “except the hair, that he takes after his uncle.” Kaveh laughs melodically at that remark, “well, he crafted the hair genome-altering potion himself because we allowed him to ask Tighnari too many questions which he was all too happy to answer.” Alhaitham nods, “it fits him. the indigo. can’t even remember what it was before if I’m being honest.” Kaveh all but shrieks, turning his voice to a whisper to not wake their son, “that’s because he did it when he was 4.”

speaking of his ‘uncle’, Wanderer is someone Veritas was very fond of. or rather, is still very fond of. such a genius mind, a clever being with a puppet body, snarky, sarcastic- Veritas felt confused why he didn’t hang out even more often with his dads; they seemed like the perfect match of personalities and intellect. nonetheless, he did come over occasionally, and was always met with, something he now knows to cherish; the soft smile, the gentle voice and the cozy embrace of his uncle who likes tolerates children. and especially since he didn’t come over often, teenage Veritas would run away take a walk to go see him, he always looked young so that made him seem even more approachable to the young boy. he’d seek knowledge, and intelligent conversations- not that his fathers or his other uncles didn’t provide that. he simply needed someone outside of that roster. an outsider. well… half of an outsider, who can keep secrets. not that he’d have many secrets to share, Wanderer would gladly amuse the kid, happy with the respect the child gave him and intrigued by the questions he'd hear.

“alright kid, it is late, off you go.”

“it’s dark yes, you won’t see me off?”

“you can walk, can’t you? now go.” Wanderer zooms off into the shadows. Veritas developed confidence in his late night walks home and bravery, not knowing- until maybe in his adult life, that Wanderer always flew above him on his way home. making sure that he was safe. and every time, maybe out of respect, maybe out of a sense of duty, or perhaps… even… companionship? friendship? he’d slip a note under the door ‘the kid was with me, W’

“is uncle Wanderer still in Sumeru?” Veritas indulged between bites of pita pockets. he just did a workout session with Alhaitham, his dad is where he picked up the healthy habit of working out and staying active.

“he should be. I mean he didn’t move out to a different region if that’s what you mean” Kaveh answered with a nod in Alhaitham’s direction, to confirm or debunk what he said in case he had different information. Alhaitham shook his head, he didn’t know anything else, “he should be in Sumeru city.”

Veritas makes his way on the incline of the Divine Tree, last step, and, “ah well if it isn’t my favorite nephew?” the voice said sarcastically. a whoosh of wind and the short man with a large hat- obscuring anyone’s view, flew down.

Veritas smiled, “uncle. it has been very long. and the years have… treated you well” he chuckled, attempting to tease the older man.

Wanderer scoffed, “is that some poor attempt at a joke? perhaps, you should spend more time with the general on this vacation. brush up your…” vague gesture, “comedy.” he hovered and sat down on the stone wall.

“I doubt comedy is something I’m fit to pursue.”

they talked for hours that day. catching up and Veritas dumping, if at all possible, even more questions onto his uncle about life and existentialism. the sun started setting and Wanderer got up, ending their conversation as always before it got too late in the night. he gestured to Veritas to come closer, to which he bent lower- the height difference was painfully obvious, “you really grew so big.” Wanderer softly commented, Veritas could see the same kindness and endearment in his eyes that he saw as a child. Veritas always meant much more to Wanderer than he ever let on. to be called uncle, considered a family member, and not be asked to change himself. Wanderer appreciated Alhaitham and Kaveh, and his nephew is someone he’d die for. he pinched his cheek, “you take care of yourself, young man.” Wanderer smiled for a second and flew up out of sight. and, just like all those years ago, he flew above him out of sight, making sure he got safely home… after all, Veritas isn’t a vision carrier.

“puppets- puppets can’t cry, stop this” he’d mumble to himself as a few more teardrops fell on the parchment paper he pushed under the door.

‘the kid was with me’

second night he dreamed. Nahida smiled in this dream and waved “welcome home, Veritas”, once awake he sat up immediately out of breath.

stepping into the kitchen and there she sat.

“oh Veritas, it is so good to see you” she chirps, jumping off of her chair and walking over, he bends over to pick her up so she may properly hug him.

“auntie Nahida- I- I seem to have forgotten you knew the exact moment I laid my head on the pillow two nights ago that I got back home” Veritas would mumble, he didn’t realize that he would be this happy to see her.

“oh- Lesser lord Kusanali, you didn’t use the door- um- would you like some tea?”

“Lesser lord Kusanali, good morning, I’ll fetch the tea.” Alhaitham would add, making Kaveh sit down so he doesn’t stumble over something, his husband is always jittery when the archon comes to visit.

being close to Wanderer meant Nahida heard of him, and of course, she knew about Alhaitham’s and Kaveh’s son, hence upon visiting the kid often she became the auntie Nahida. Veritas grew up knowing the full truth, his dads aren’t the type to sugarcoat it or lie.

so in this embrace, Veritas realized how many questions he had for the tiny god in his arms. the god of wisdom. although, that might be impolite… he was silent for a bit.

Nahida giggled, “ask,” her legs swaying on the chair, “I know you must have so many more things you wish to know. especially with your age, doctor~” she giggled even more. and therefore it became a discussion, Veritas carefully forming his words, his dads listening to the conversation until they had to leave to lunch with friends. “come if you have time, your uncles Tighnari and Cyno will be there. they would be happy to see you.” Alhaitham adds as they leave the house.

on his way to the tavern he hears a woman yell his name, frozen in his step he turns and sees her running towards him. “Collei!” Veritas smiles, opening his arms and she jumps at him. he gives her a spin and tightly embraces her, “how have you been- you’re still amusingly short-“ he laughs, and she playfully punches him,

“is that how you greet your favorite cousin?”

“you mean my only cousin?”

“don’t get snarky with me- I got better at communication and will use sarcasm to my advantage!” Collei laughed happily as she answered. in his mind, she has always communicated well with him. he never saw any issues, only fondness for his older cousin.

they catch up on the street, his cousin is someone he cared about a lot in his youth. a peer who he didn’t shoo off, who didn’t dislike him, and who was and still is an amazing, accepting, intelligent person. one stayed and the other one moved away, yet their communication never failed, never changed, and the love always there for one another.

Cyno and Tighnari basically tackle him with love and affection. Cyno wraps him up in a blanket of dad jokes (not literal), while Veritas shares stories of foxians on the Xianzhou Luofu. it is a pleasant lunch filled with stories, and the tallest man at the table getting babied and treated as if he is fifteen years old again. somewhat bittersweet. Cyno insists they play a round of TCG, Veritas winning easily, “it is pure strategy, uncle Cyno” he tries to hide his smirk as he answers to a frowning general; Alhaitham adds quietly, “that’s my boy. well done.”

His uncle Cyno was the one to teach him Genius invocation TCG, during their trips to the desert they spent their evenings playing cards. “this is hardly fair, uncle. I keep losing” the small boy frowned.

“Veritas, when you are old enough, and more experienced you will, maybe, come close to winning.” Cyno answers, not showing mercy to the kid- he must learn the rules of the game properly, as he is teaching him survival in the desert. which, over the years of many trips, resulted in Veritas growing well acclimated to the weather conditions and scorching sun there, a good life skill to have.

on the other hand, he also grew accustomed to the moisture-heavy air and high heat of the rainforest. going on many camping trips with his uncle Tighnari. learning of different plants and creatures, gaining proficiency in biology before he even got to go to school. nights in the Gandharva Ville were also something he remembers fondly, his cousin, someone he holds in high regard, was always nice to him, pleasant, no matter his attitude and ‘adapting’ behavior. Collei never judged, they were, in a way, both patient with each other and led intellectually stimulating conversations for both parties. Veritas wouldn’t be the same man he is today if it weren’t for his peer.

Madam Faruzan is someone he didn’t expect to see in the house of Daena. he found her… interesting in his youth, but he moved past the interest when the well of knowledge for him dried up. on the other hand, Faruzan adored the little boy who was respectful and smart. they chatted for a few minutes and he quickly excused himself, otherwise, he’d have to put the bust on and the people of Sumeru have spent years not seeing such strange behavior and he knew it would attract even more attention. his younger dad’s voice would echo in his head, “it never matters if it makes others around you uncomfortable- you take care of yourself. if it helps you, if you feel better, then wear it.” and the scene of his dad placing the kid sized plaster head on his head played in Veritas’ mind. he feels incredibly lucky to have such amazing parents.

“how’s the traveler?”

“oh them? they found their sibling and I’m afraid I haven’t seen them in a bit. but they always come around, you know how they are. unpredictable~” Kaveh chuckles, and fondly recalls his friend with gold hair.

“or perhaps they changed bodies and personalities and embody someone you know outside of Teyvat.”

“daaad.” Veritas exhaled, “your attempts at humor get more annoying with years” he rolled his eyes at Alhaitham.

in a suggestive voice he joked a bit more, “maybe now they are less polite, maybe they even have- gray hair like I do.”

for a second the image of the Trailblazer flashed before his eyes but he dismissed it, “daad please can you contain yourself. I would appreciate it. those books on comedy did you no good,” his head turned to Kaveh, “dad why did you buy him that?”

“for pure shits and giggles, my dear boy.” Kaveh answered with a grin.

one can be as put together as they want and as old as they can be, but once one is home… we all turn back into children.

there was a knock on the door, Kaveh got up to open it, “good morning, yes?”

“ah hello, is doctor Ratio here- his device seems to not be working on Teyvat it seems so err…”

“Veritas it’s for you!” he said louder and turned back to face the man in front of him, “and you are?”

“dad-“ he gently pushed Kaveh aside, “you’re too flashy- get inside Aventurine!” he hissed in a hushed tone.

Veritas stands with his hand on his forehead, shaking his head gently. Kaveh seems amused with a smile on his face and sits down on the couch, next to the sofa armchair where Alhaitham made himself sit in no time. Kaveh can tell by the look in his husband’s eyes that he is entertained.

the young man, which their son addressed as a translucent quartz… Aventurine took a step towards Veritas. “hey- doc- I didn’t mean to- maybe I should’ve read some stuff about the planet before jumping-“

“maybe?” the tone of voice was obviously a displeased one, even raising in tone with a sharp glare. Veritas inhaled and exhaled. like a child doing a play he turned to face his parents, “dads, this is Kakavasha,” Aventurine did a small wave, “he is an occasional work partner of mine and I suppose that is why he came here.” he turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“well, yes, your phone- I mean device wasn’t working- actually nothing came up- I grew worried,” his voice turned into a whisper, “you know with this planet being so gatekept and outside of the IPC’s or the Aeons’ control so…”

“worried?” Veritas asked. Kaveh and Alhaitham were only missing popcorn, this has been the most entertaining thing they have watched in years. going all the way back to when they visited Fontaine and saw a wonderful drama performance.

“yes,” the blond man answered.

“let’s-“ Kaveh cleared his throat, “I’m Kaveh, Veritas’ father, this is my husband Alhaitham. why don’t you stay a bit- no need to rush off to… wherever you zapped from, hm?” he smiled.

“this, being the isolated area you claim, surely two travels in one day are not good, hm? stay the night. we will make room.” Alhaitham nodded.

and oh, Aventurine could read them in a second, street smarts this guy. he saw every single detail of the two men and how it translated into Veritas. “I’d hate to be a bother- but I’m clever enough to know you two would insist.” Aventurine smiles. Alhaitham and Kaveh hold back any laughs bubbling up their throats from giddiness. for them two, a pinning couple such as themselves, something as this short interaction between Aventurine and Veritas was as obvious as Cyno being the general Mahamatra. visible from the top of the Divine Tree. the only question was, where do they stand together?

“I. you’re right, but I don’t think it is necessary-“ Veritas begins only to be cut off by Kaveh.

“you’re forgetting yourself- didn’t you say he was flashy? you practically dragged him inside.”

Veritas cursed himself mentally, this was truly not what he had in plan. “fine. follow along, dear gambler.” he walked down the hallway and Aventurine followed quickly along.

Kaveh looked at Alhaitham with wide eyes and held back the urge to bite down on a pillow. “I will fucking scream, our son, OUR SON, got bitches?” “was that real? that just happened, yes?”

Alhaitham was speechless in any verbal form, but his facial expression was priceless. “dear. Archons. thank you lesser lord Kusanali for blessing our boy.” Alhaitham hoped their son would never be lonely… and over the years it truly did turn him to even hope for the archons to show mercy upon him. “he also isn’t an idiot” Alhaitham continued.

“mhm, quite a beautifully well-mannered young man along with that,” Kaveh added.

inside his room, “why- this was truly unnecessary- my dads will now-“

“doc, calm down your parents are great- is this where I’ll stay?”

“this is my room!” he narrowed his eyes, Aventurine nodded and stayed quiet, “yes… this is where you’ll stay. don’t get… cocky about it”

“oh please doc, it isn’t the first time we share a bed.”

“change into something Sumeru appropriate if you wish to leave this house at any time during your stay.” Veritas ponders for a moment, “my clothes are too big and so are any of my dads- uncle Cyno is shorter than you so that’s a no, uncle Tighnari has a tail so that’s also a no, uncle Wanderer wears Inazuma-Sumeru styled clothes and also too small- I will have to buy.” he sighs after his short analysis.

“money is never the problem- credits are something I have a lot of and you know that- why?”

“they use mora here, not credits.”

Aventurine falls quiet, a world with no credits… a land of opportunity! he shall gain mora!

“no. don’t you gamble- the rules here are different-“ knock, knock.

“Veritas, will you go buy Kakavasha clothes or shall I sew something of some old pieces?” Kaveh asked against the closed door.

“I- dad can you go buy- we need to talk- I can’t at this moment.”

“yeah, I’ll go.” silence, he didn’t move away yet. “I’ll take your father with me.”

a distant muffled voice answered, “I don’t like shopping for clothes, Kaveh.” “Shush Alhaitham we are going.”

“I doubt your worry was justified- you knew you couldn’t contact me here”

“your parents seem nice. and now I’m here, so let us not dwell on would’ve, could’ve, should’ve hm?”

Veritas sighs. they exchange a few more words and he leaves for dinner with Collei previously arranged.

the sun is setting when he gets back, Aventurine got nicely acquainted with his parents and… well, Veritas is standing frozen at the entrance door. Aventurine is wearing white Sumeru style clothes, with pretty gold accents and splashes of purple and cyan. there has never been a lovelier man than him, your beauty leaves me speechless. He clears his throat, “now that you look appropriate, allow me to take you on a walk, yes?” to which the blond man obliges and they leave the house.

absentmindedly he talks of the architecture and how people live in Sumeru city. they arrive at a point that oversees the vast area towards Port Ormos and they stand there in silence for a few moments.

“the clothes are very comfortable, I hope I’m wearing them well,” Aventurine says with a big smile.

“you look…” beautiful, ravishing, heavenly, out of this world, take my hand in marriage, “…you wear them well, yes” Veritas cuts his thoughts off.

“c’mon doc, we are on your home planet, in your city. no one knows us here- at least not as the cornerstone of the Aeon of preservation and the member of the Intelligentsia guild. we can relax.”

Veritas rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath. “you’re right. … you look… beautiful. I… I bought you something- it was meant to be a gift when I got back but… here” he hands him a small blue velvet box. Veritas doubts Aventurine ever enjoys wearing jewelry, not with the way he quickly strips himself off of his rings, the watch, and necklace the moment he gets home. Aventurine opens the box and tilts his head in thought, “this is…?”

“a hairpiece. sort of like mine. a pin. I’m sure you understand.” Veritas nods to himself. Aventurine hands him the pin, a dark blue-golden piece displaying a certain mushroom. “put it on me.” Veritas’ eyes shift to the shorter man, if he wasn’t such a calm person his hands would shake in this moment. his fingers gently grip the pin and place it on the soft blond hair.

“good?”

“perfect. I chose well.” Veritas cannot hide how flustered he is at that moment despite his cold demeanor when his cheeks show a shade of pink.

“Doctor… Veritas. I would like to enjoy this vacation- with you. us, together, no one to say anything, may we… relax?” Aventurine says softly, his hand shyly coming to hold Veritas’ making him look at the man. “the view is beautiful from here, the sunset, colors, everything in warm colors, look.” he says, Aventurine shifts his gaze and Veritas keeps looking at him. he raises their joined hands and kisses his knuckles, “you mean everything to me” he whispers.

Aventurine smiles, returning his gaze to him. Veritas continues in a soft voice, “you wear the clothes well. it is… such a vision to see you in the clothing of my world. to see you standing next to me on the streets I grew up on, to see you meet my parents… also I have planned to stay for quite a while so expect to be here for at least a month or travel back to the ship.”

“I think I might stay for a few days. I like the sight of you here, you seem much more relaxed than you usually are, Doc. it’s like you feel safer here. and given how many dangerous specimens are on this planet I am surprised by that fact.” Aventurine gives his hand a small squeeze. “I’d like to get to know your family.” there’s an underlying sadness he sees in the shorter man’s eyes, perhaps the yearning for a safe family of his own.

“I have a big family, uncles, and aunts, a cousin… I’d be happy to introduce you.”

“friends? you didn’t say friends.”

“ah… those. family is what I have here. and you.” Veritas pushes the thoughts of his childhood away, friends… not something he had a big privilege of experiencing. He always preferred his uncles, aunts, truly the only real friend he ever had was Collei. perhaps the other kids weren’t even worth it.

the walk ends with them gazing at the sunset, holding hands.

at night they share his bed, his childhood bed. in the privacy of his home he feels safe enough to lean his face closer and gently kiss him. his lips pressing onto Aventurine’s with a mumble of good night. It feels surreal… his partner with him, in his arms, in his home. Aventurine that night dreams of a small white-haired person who welcomes him to Sumeru and says she is happy to meet him. in the morning when he shares the dream, between kisses Veritas lays along his jawline, the doctor stops to inform him that that was the Dendro archon, which results in a gasping Aventurine and a longer time in bed explaining the function of gods and deities in this world.

Veritas walks into the kitchen, following the scent of Sabz meat stew. his parents are in the study so he freely wraps his arms around Aventurine and lowers his head into the crook of his neck. “smells good.”

“mhm, your dad gave me the recipe- I thought I’d try it out. taste it!” Aventurine turns a bit in his arms, lips pursed blowing on the wooden spoon. it tastes good, melts on the tongue, his eyes widen and it is all the confirmation Aventurine needs. Veritas kisses his temple, “I’m so happy you’re here, Kakavasha.”

steps on the wooden floor knock him out of his bubble, his cheeks blush- being physical with his partner isn’t something he wants his parents to see. he puts the plaster head on and sits down. luckily in this household, it is perfectly normal to self-regulate in such a way. he can count on both hands just how many times he saw his dad without the noise-canceling pieces he uses. half of those were when he was sleeping, he remembers as a kid when he’d run to their bedroom, in tears from a nightmare- in mere seconds he’d have the devices on his head- be it Kaveh putting them on or he himself getting them on. after which they would both turn to comfort the small boy. any other time, was his dads quietly chatting on the sofa, and upon his arrival his younger dad would waste no time to put them on. two voices being too much. Alhaitham reassured him plenty of times so he doesn’t feel hurt by it, especially now, that he is old enough to understand; the only person he can tolerate, he enjoys listening fully to (not all the time tho) is Kaveh. to prove the case further, as a teenager he found out that his dad’s device has a mode which makes sure that his older dad’s voice always pushes through noise cancellation. true love at its finest. and what a hopeless romantic his dad is to do so and feel like that. the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. he does wear his bust much less when he is around Kakavasha.

and now not even the plaster head can hide it when he tilts his head on his hand and stares at the blond man. Alhaitham smirks, he sees through it oh so easily, “do you need any help, Kakavasha? if not, Kaveh and I are leaving to go to the Akademiya, update our retirement plans and so on. although, I’m sure my son can help out if the need arises.”

“I am doing fine so far, thank you sir”

“no need for sir, Alhaitham is fine.”

“I’d feel impolite to address my partner’s parents like that,” he speaks out loud before thinking. he stops stirring the food, when did he- how- when did he start feeling so safe that he stopped overthinking as much? Alhaitham nods with a barely noticeable smile and turns to leave the kitchen. “don’t burn the house down, you two.”

Veritas plants his face into his palms, covering the plaster head even more. Kakavasha turns around to face him when the doors close. “hah, um… sorry?”

Veritas gently takes his plaster head off with a small sigh, his cheeks are colored a light shade of pink, and eyes looking elsewhere, “it happens. I’d love to think my dad took your ‘partner’ in a business terminology, but… nobody in this household is that idiotic. and… I doubt we were any less than obvious, especially to a special case such as my parents.”

“special case?” Kakavasha hangs onto his words.

“some other time I’ll tell you about their situation- or perhaps you may ask them yourself. watch the food, dear.” Veritas gestures with his chin to the cooking pot.

Kakavasha does that indeed, chatting along with Alhaitham and Kaveh, the men more than happy to share their story- and get to know their son’s partner.

“I was told I might find you here,” he says in a soft voice, sitting next to the tall man.

Veritas raises his head from his notes. he is sitting at a large table in the house of Daena, surrounded by books, papers and a few pens. “who told you? I wasn’t avoiding you- my dad told me they added a few books and borrowed some from the Temple of silence, I couldn’t resist reading through it all.”

“your dads. am I bothering you, doc? I’m sure there are some books I can entertain myself with” Kakavasha gazes around.

“with no offense, doubtful. it is usually highly dry material, unworthy of your time and energy. I am willing to take a break, may I tempt you with a walk, dear?”

“yes, you may.” Kakavasha smiles at the flirty question.

saying goodbye is never easy. when being home is nice, pleasant- it makes it much harder. Aventurine left a week or so ago, and went back in the outer orbit of the planet. Veritas spent more time with his close family, having more shared meals and spending his early mornings in the Akademiya’s library, even going so far to visit the actual Temple of silence.

Kaveh’s arms are holding him tightly in an embrace, his voice slightly shaky, but he is trying not to let it show, “I will miss you so much, my dear boy. please stay safe, don’t get into unnecessary trouble, eat a lot, take care of yourself and you can always come home if it gets tiring. or just- one day come home to retire, maybe? and bring that boy with you, your father and I like him, he is welcome any time.”

Alhaitham’s strong arms hug him with a few pats on the back, in a monotone voice, which Veritas recognizes as warmth, he softly speaks, “I stand behind everything your dad already said. do take care of yourself, we will miss you a lot.”

“I don’t want to cry.” Veritas whispers, standing in front of his parents, Kaveh inhales sharply holding back his own tears, Alhaitham tightly holds his hand, his jaw clenched as he also tries not to grow too upset. “we shouldn’t cry,” the retired scribe says, “it isn’t good to say goodbye in tears, we will see each other again. we are immensely happy you came to see us, Veritas. I love you- we both love you, and safe travels.” he ends it with a nod, Kaveh nods as well.

“I love you too” Veritas whispers back, he jumps into both of them, hugging them one more time. he steps back, waves and, with the usage of technology unnatural to Teyvat, he is gone. Zapped away into the orbit.

“I miss him already.” Kaveh doesn’t cry as much as he thought he would when their son leaves.

“Veritas is out there doing the best he can for himself, and he isn’t alone. we both know how much it matters that he isn’t alone.” Alhaitham’s eyes appear sad despite his words. the men sit on the couch cuddled in each other’s arms. “you’re right… he isn’t alone.”

Ratio, back on the ship, eyes filled with tears threatening to drop meet the watercolor ones of his partner. “I- I… I miss them already, Kakavasha.” Aventurine walks over to hug him, his hand moving in circles on his back. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

after a few minutes, Aventurine quietly says, “we will visit them again. we can come over for my birthday? I… really enjoyed being surrounded by family. maybe you’d let me meet more of them this time, yes?”

Veritas smiles, tears dried up, he really has a way of bringing his mood up. “of course, we will visit for your birthday then.”

“I look forward to calling them my family like you do,” Aventurine adds with an all-too-familiar smile.

“is that-“ Ratio tilts his head, “is that some backward way of proposing?”

Aventurine chuckles, shaking his hands, “nope. not yet. there’s time for us to do… that”

Ratio smirks, with an exhale he leans his head on the shorter man’s shoulder, “thank you… for coming along. I’m glad you met them.”

Aventurine silently smiles and kisses his cheek. perhaps the next time they come around they will make certain vows.

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sapchat · 11 months

Text

We Are Not Our Fathers, But I Am Yours

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Back by quite literal popular demand: It’s been a few months since you and Az have taken Hawthorne in, and now he has questions about what you guys are to him.

Warnings: I say bastard once. We talk about Azriel's lovely father and the rest of his family. oo I mention that Elain and Lucien had a weird relationship, but just saying "whatever they got going on"

Words: 2.8k

Part One

You're Reading Part Two!!(2)

“How is it, being a mother?” Feyre asked while watching Hawthorne play with little Nyx. The six-year-old, whilst bigger than the one-and-a-half-year-old, still knew to be gentle enough to play.

“It’s… nice, I mean I know I’m not his actual mother. But it’s weird, in the last couple of months I feel like I’d do anything to protect him, I mean honestly, I’d probably sacrifice Az to protect him.” I say, giving a chuckle towards the end.

“I know, Rhys and I said the same thing with Nyx. I mean you remember how Rhys was while I was pregnant, but the minute that little boy got here. It was game over for us both.” Feyre said smiling at the little boys.

We sat drinking our tea a little more watching them play in Elain’s garden before she turned to me again.

“I know that you guys are unofficially planning on moving to Windhaven once he’s eight, so he can be trained. Me and Rhys want you guys in his mother’s house. I know you will be back and forth but instead of getting your guys’ own place, just use it.”

I look at Feyre tears in my eyes from what she and Rhys are offering, then grab her hand, “Thank you guys, I’ll be sure to tell Az when we get home.”

“How is the spymaster doing with this… adjustment?” The High Lady asked a small glint in her eye.

I’d taken to the adjustment quite quickly, as I had already been playing caregiver before we had decided. Azriel was adjusting a little slower. I couldn’t tell if it was due to the lack of parental figures in his younger years, or because of how quickly it went from me and him, to me him and a child.

“He’s,” a quick pause, “Adjusting. It’s been slow, and he’s more awkward than usual. Hawthorne pretty quickly accepted that I was essentially a mother to him. But with Az, I don’t know. Hawthorne had a father who protected him for five years, and then we showed up and told him he wouldn’t see him again. He still calls him Azriel, or Azzie, or a variation of that. And whilst he hasn’t called me his mother it’s like it’s on the tip of his tongue.” I tell her honestly.

I mean we never truly expected him to see us as his parents, but it’s still weird having a child call you by name. Nothing with aunt or uncle in front of it or anything either.

“I think it’ll be okay. Hawthorne knows you both love him, and you both care for him and protect him. You get that and Azriel gets that. He couldn’t have two better parents.” Feyre tells me reassuringly. It seemed like she was going to add something else but then Hawthrone ran over, Nyx stumbling after him.

“Can we have cake now Aunty Feyre?” Hawthorne asked looking from his spot at her knees batty his dark eyelashes.

The child really could pass for our child if it came down to it. The same Illyrian features, hazel eyes, dark almost black hair, and golden skin. There have been times when we walked down the street after collecting him from the Velaris school that people had stopped and awed at how cute of a family we were. How our son was so cute and a carbon copy of his father.

Taking the smiles, they receive as thanks; they don’t notice how tense we become. How I glance at my mate, and he just glances down, some distant look in his eye that I can’t describe.

“That’s not up to me,” Feyre says nodding her head in my direction. The little boy looked at me, eyes gleaming in hope.

“Come on little shadow, let’s see if Aunt Elain and the twins have lunch for us,” I say standing and straightening my pantsuit out. I took his hand and waited for Feyre to pick up the little prince and we went into the Townhouse.

Nuala, Cerridwen, and Elain greeted us, pouring some tea into glasses, and watered-down juice into small cups for the boys. Hawthorne ran excitedly to the three in the kitchenette, and looked into Elain’s brown eyes, “You have snacks?”

Elain smiled down at the boy, smiling down at the little Illyrian. “We do have snacks. But I don’t know if you get to have any.” She said, joy glinting in her eyes at pestering the little boy.

Hawthorne looked stunned at her for a second, as if he couldn’t believe he was being denied something, and quickly turned to me, “Aunt Elain’s being mean!”

We all laughed as the little boy pouted in disbelief, even more so when he saw us all laughing. His foot stomped the ground, his wings flaring a little.

The laughing calmed a little as Rhys, Cass, and Az entered the house. They stood in the doorway watching all of us standing around looking at a little grumpy Illyrian.

The child looked at the three males and ran over to Azriel slamming into his legs. He placed a hand lightly on his back and looked around in question. “They’re being mean to me Azzie!”

At that Rhys let out a laugh, Cassian joining in. My mate looked at me in question, “Is there a reason I have a grumpy child hiding in my legs?”

“He’s just trying to get snacks for our lunch. Which he wouldn’t expect that unless someone kept letting him sneak some.” I told him, lightly glaring in his direction, but sent love down the bond nonetheless.

Azriel picked the boy up, his wings fluttering away as he did. “She’s right, you have to eat your lunch before sweets.” Hawthorne looked at Azriel in shock.

“But you and Uncle Cassin always give snacks like that before dinner!” Everyone turned to look at the two in question, a little glimmer of amusement shining through.

Feyre looked to me with humor all over her face, “Well, now we know why he hardly eats his lunch and dinner now.”

It was later in the evening; you were trying to give the boy a quick little bath. He was mainly just splashing around. Azriel watched with amusement as you tried to run a cloth over him.

“You could help you know. I mean how did Rhys’ mother give all of you baths.” I say huffing wiping sweaty hair from my face. You were going to need a bath after this.

Azriel had a small smile on his usual blank face, “She usually gave up after the first five minutes. I’m surprised you’ve tried this for as long as you have.”

Having the child around has made him more emotionally viewable. Where he used to only show how he felt, few and far between, now it’s more common. Sitting on your heels you let an exhausted sigh leave.

“You know little thorn in my side,” You say pinching his nose, he laughs in response, “I’m just going to sit over here and when you deem yourself clean let me know.” The dark-haired boy nodded and went back to playing immediately.

You walked over and sat by Az, leaning your head against him. “Who knew raising a little Illyrian was such work.”

Azriel leaned his head down letting out a huff of a laugh. “Imagine more than one in a house.” And you did, just for a second. But it wasn’t Rhys, Cassian, or Azriel you were picturing. It was Hawthorne and a few others. Some that did look like Azriel and one that looked like you. You pictured it long enough that you must have somehow sent what you were thinking down the bond. Because Azriel sent nothing but joy and love back.

“Let’s get this one situated first,” Azriel whispered, arm wrapping around you. You smiled up at him, excitement glistening in your eyes.

By the time you sent Azriel to put the kid to bed, you stayed back to clean up the mess in the bathroom. By the time you got to the boys’ room, you could hear them talking.

“Why don’t I have ears like her?” It was Hawthorne asking the question, and it made you pause in confusion.

“Because she’s what is called High-Fae, and you’re an Illyrian. Like me.” There was shuffling, Azriel must have been tucking him in.

“So… does that mean she can’t be my mom?” It was a quiet question, and silence followed after it.

“What makes you say that little shadow?”

“Well, if I’m like you, and she’s not like us. Then she can’t be my mom, right? Like Nyx. Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys both have pointy ears, just like Nyx.”

“You don’t have to look like someone for them to be family. Just like me and your uncles don’t look alike, they’re still my brothers. Just like she can still be your mom. Now, it’s time for you to get to bed.” You smiled, and quickly wiped your face before entering the room.

“What are we still doing up little soldier?” You walked over to him and took Az’s spot on the bed. Hawthrone smiled at you, peeking out from under the covers.

You tucked him in just a little tighter, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the head then brushed his hair from his face.

You sat for a second, looking at your little joy, then whispered goodnight, and just when you went to shut the door you heard it. “Goodnight mama.”

Holding back your tears just a little, you turned back and said, “Goodnight little shadow.” Then shut the door. And turned to Azriel's chest to shed some of the tears.

“Come on,” he whispered, “Let’s get you cleaned up and then to bed.”

You had picked Hawthrone up from school a few days later when he asked you a question.

“You and Azriel are together, right?” It surprised you; it was an odd question for a six-year-old. “Like… Like Aunty Feyre and Uncle Rhys?”

“Yes. Just like them, me and Azriel are mates. You remember what mates are right?” I said holding his hand as we walked down the sidewalk by the Sidra. You and Azriel had talked to him about a few things before you guys could get him in a school. So, he could know who his family would be, and about some of the world.

He nodded his head, he knew the story of me and Azriel, at least as kid friendly as you could get with Az’s job. I mean you yourself were only a healer at the school before meeting the Inner Circle. Then Madja recruited you to help with what few kids came through her shop. After about three years you were Madja’s right-hand man, thus introducing you to the Inner Circle for all their bumps and bruises. So Hawthrone knew you two were mates, like Feyre and Rhysand, and Nesta and Cassian. Whilst Elain and Lucien’s dynamic still confused him a little.

“So, if you’re my mother, does that make Az my father?” You almost stumbled at the question. Azriel had struggled in the first few weeks of having Hawthrone, he didn’t have good parental figures, so trying to play dad to a kid was a struggle.

With Nyx he had no issue, he could play uncle, be there for a few hours but at the end of the day Nyx went back to his own parents.

“Do you want Azriel to be your father?” I asked a little hesitant, I didn’t want to cause any issue for Az, or Hawthorne. It hadn’t been that long ago that you guys got him out of a bad situation in an Illyrian camp. From his own father.

“I don’t know. I know he likes me now. Before it was… strange,”

“Confusing, you’re looking for the word confusing.”

“Cun-fushion.”

“Well, if you’re really confused then you could ask him. He always tells you that you can tell him anything. The same goes for asking questions. That’s called communicating.” Hawthorne sounded the word out to himself, then sat for a minute in thought. Right as you were about to ask him a question he perked up, wings twitching.

“Oo oo oo can we stop and get sweets!” You’ve got to pick a different path to walk along.

“We’re home-!”

“We got sweets!!”

“We got sweets! Hawthorne those were supposed to be a surprise.” Setting the box of treats down on the table of the River House you followed the tiny stuttering of feet flying through the house in the direction of the rest of the voices.

You found some of the family in the sitting room and joined Azriel on the arm of his chair. Hawthorne was already telling Elain about his very eventful day at school, using his arms to explain it better.

I leaned over just slightly so Az could hear me, “He was asking some questions on the walk here.”

Azriel turned and looked at me, a look of almost fear in his eyes. Then furrowed his eyebrows in question.

“Nothing serious was just asking if we were together, a few other things I’ll tell you alone.”

“He asked if we were together?” I laughed a little then ran a hand through his hair looking at my boy.

“Yea, I thought the same thing. Asked if it was the same way as Rhys and Feyre.”

“Was it serious? What he asked, which is why you don’t want to tell me here.” There’s that wariness that Azriel always had regarding us.

“Just… something I figured we could talk to him about later, about parentage.” Azriel is all but locked up at that. Hands that had been clasped together moved to hide almost, shadows coming to drape over him a little. One moved to join Hawthorne and wrapping around him. “Just the basics, but it could be time to tell him something though, before we all go to Windhaven.”

Azriel nodded his head, distress flowing down the bond, I sent reassurance back.

By the time dinner was done, the sweets were eaten, and everyone went off to their respective houses. You met Hawthorne and Azriel in his room with some cocoa. Whipp cream and cinnamon on top.

“Wanna know how I got these marks on my hands?” Hawthorne glanced down at Azriel’s hand, then to his face, an indescribable look on his little face. Then he slightly nodded.

“I was born to a lord in a camp. My mother wasn’t with him though, remember how you had called me a bastard when we first met?” Hawthorne nodded guiltily, “It’s okay, that’s what it’s called when your mother and father have a kid without being together. My father’s wife didn’t like it, didn’t like me.” Azriel took a deep breath, and I handed him a cup, so he had something to fidget with.

“They had two other sons, older that didn’t like. Since they didn’t like me, they kept me locked away in… my bedroom,” the safest option rather than a ‘dungeon’ “One day, my brothers decided to test how well we could heal…. By the time my father’s guards got there, it was too late, and the fire did this.”

“Did your father do anything to stop them from being mean to you…?” Hawthorne silently asked Azriel, looking at his hands and then back to his face.

“No. My father was a really bad man. Really mean too. Kept me away from people and from flying, but when they found out I could talk with the shadows, they took me to the camp we’ll go to when you’re older. And I met your Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cassian, and Aunt Mor.” Azriel told him, Hawthorne glanced in my direction now.

“Was my father like yours was?” Hawthorne asked me, Azriel eyes widened a little, I opened my mouth to answer and reassure him but Azriel beat me to hit.

“No! You are nothing like your father. Understood?” Hawthorne nodded, “Just like I’m not my father.”

Hawthorne sat for a second, even more silent than usual when pondering a question.

“Are… are you, my father? Like she’s my Mother?” A silent tear dripped down your mate's face, almost matching the ones building in your own.

“I am nothing like either of our fathers. And whilst I might not be the one who created you, your father, I can be your father. If you’ll allow me to.” Hawthorne’s eyes watered up then flung himself into Azriels’ arms, wings trying to wrap around him. Azriel hugged back and wrapped his own wings around him, as you sat taking in the scene.

He stood from his hugging position and took your hand, and the three of you went just two doors down to your own room. Where the three of you slept, you on the left, Azriel on the right, and just under Azriel’s wing and under your arms was Hawthorne. The little dark-haired, hazel-eyed Illyrian slept soundly, between his two parents.

Like it, tell me how you feel, share it with your friends. Share it with your grandma. Share it with the weird guy that lives at the end of the street who knows way too much about the K.G.B

Side note if you made it this far please dear god tell me what you would get the IC for solstice/Christmas presents. I have ideas for them all but Rhys. Please it can be on anom or anything 😂

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acinnamongirlsdiary · 7 months

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𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓡𝓲𝓫𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓼-𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1: 𝓢𝓪𝓭 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓫𝔂 𝓛𝓓𝓡

Summary: Reader and Jacaerys are arranged to be wed. But reader doesn’t want that bc she hardly remembers him. Tension are rising with house Lannister so allies are more important then ever.

Cw: Slowburn, angst, this is genuinely just a fix-it fic, Rhaenicent, some mentions of s/a trauma but will be tagged in the chapters!!, mean dad, eventual smut but will tag in chapters, readers super apprehensive, VERY self indulgent

Pls be nice this is my first fic lol!! Feedback is very welcome tho! Banner creds to- @gwzzzly

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

You were sure your father would be the death of you. One of the most powerful and influential lords of Westeros forcing his youngest daughter to marry Queen Rhaenrya’s eldest son, Jacaerys Valeryon.

Knowing him since you were kids claimed your beating heart just a little. The thought still scared you. The idea of a loveless, political marriage was terrifying. Especially with a man you haven’t seen in 7 years.

“We’re almost to Kings landing, My Lady.” Your maid and friend, Abby, said. “Are you excited? I remember when we were younger you were so in love with him and the idea of becoming queen.”

She was right. The idea of Jacaerys and being queen was enticing, but your father’s words were causing a little apprehension to say the least.

“I don’t know.” You spoke softly, as though you were trying not to wake a bear, “I remember him being kind, but it’s been so long. What if he’s changed? What if he’s become as power hungry like most other men.”

“I choose to believe Rhaenrya would rather die then let that happen.” Abby said. She was amazing to have around. So kind an positive even when you would start to spiral.

“I’m hoping for my sake he’s understanding. I’m so nervous I don’t know how I’ll react when I see him.” You said poking out the window. The foliage and mountains were so beautiful, covered with fog ready to claim travelers.

It reminded you of simpler, softer times.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Getting out of the carriage and up the steps to the throne room were grueling. Your father reminding you to speak kindly and be as open as possible was stressing you out and causing you to shut down even more. He could be kind, your father as you siblings loved to remind you, but he was nothing if not arrogant through and through.

The throne room was vast but smaller than you remember. Running through it and poking your finger on the swords of the iron throne (which was just as intimidating as before). Rhaenyra and Alicent smiled at you.

“Hello sweet girl” Alicent said, pulling you into a warm hug. “It’s been so long you’re so much older!” She smiled.

“Queen Alicent! I’ve missed you!” You exclaimed wrapping your arms around her. You didn’t expect to see Jacaerys right away asking the queens where he was.

“Oh Jace is on the beach with Luke training.” Rhaenyra stated. Her warm gaze on you felt nostalgic. “Heleana will show you your room and perhaps you two can take a walk to show you around.”

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

As you walked with Heleana, your anxiety started to lower. She spoke about how kind Jacaerys was, how much you’ll like it here and how excited he was to see you again.

“He’ll be at the feast tonight. It’s all he’s spoken to Rhaenrya about for the past couple of days!” She giggled.

“Really? I didn’t expect him to be so happy.” The thought of a man so happy to see you after so long felt you with warmth.

“Oh yes. He’s gotten bigger than he was before.” She giggled “I’m sure he’ll be able to twirl you around whilst you two dance the night away!” She let go of your hand and started to spin, while looking dreamily to the sky.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Your nerves eased through the day, talking and having tea and picking out dresses with Abby and Heleana.

“That one will bring him to his knees.” Abby giggle, referring to a beautiful pink gown with shirt sleeves and little ruffles on the bodice. You twirl thinking of dancing with Jacaerys. His arms around you as if you were the only people in the world.

“Did you hear what Lady Carrie said?” Abby spoke as she massaged shampoo through your hair. “She was speaking to one of the Tyrell boys and how she planned to dance with him.” You gasp. The idea of Lady Carrie and him was odd. Especially with how rough he looked. “I don’t think he deserves her though.”

The night went on with gossip and preparing for the grand meal. You tried to pay attention but ever mention of Jacaerys made you both freeze up and go stiff but also become excited in ways you could hardly contain. The idea of him and you being bound together scared you. But you’re hair tied up and flowers woven through out, your makeup in light pink shades and in your beautiful pink dress, you knew you at least looked your best.

Walking into the dining room all eyes were on you. Especially Jacaerys’.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Sorry if this is so short! The future chapters will be longer but I just wanted to get this one out!

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys strong #jacerys velaryon #jace velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #rhaenicent #heleana targaryen #hotd jacaerys #hotd fic #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys x you #jacaerys fic

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mydear-corinthian · 6 months

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Defense || John Shelby

Synopsis: Defending John during the ambush of Changretta's men in your home. Pairing: John Shelby x reader (+ Michael - platonic) Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD ! (season 3 & 4), gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, injury Notes: There will be some grammatical errors. Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

"Mom, mom, it's Christmas day!", Katie shrugging my shoulders to wake me up. A smile painted on my face just at the sight of my kids. The past few months with John have been challenging. He was held captive for six months and was on the brink death just hours before he was hanged. The good news is that Tommy was able to arrange for his release, though under quite tense circumstances. But Tommy still has my anger because he enabled my spouse to rot in prison. That's why the kids, John, and I are here right now. We've moved out of Small Health and into the country in our new house.

"Alright, Katie. I'm awake .. I'm awake. Happy Christmas," I greeted. I looked around the room and saw that John was nowhere to be found—just the kids and I. When I asked Katie where John was, she replied that he was just making breakfast downstairs. "Thank you, love. Let's go join your Dad now, eh?" I kissed her forehead and joined her to come downstairs.

I met John in the kitchen downstairs, breakfast was already placed on the table. He was in the kitchen, I assume he was still making some hot tea. "Happy Christmas, John," He walked toward me and planted a kiss on my cheek as he said, "Good morning and Happy Christmas, love. I made breakfast. Decided not to make you busy on Christmas day." I laughed at his answer. He gave me a cup of warm tea. He grabbed his metallic pouch full of cigarettes and took one. Lighting it before inhaling the toxic air.

"Bit too early for a puff, darling?", I asked, taking a sip of the tea that John made. "Just want to. Besides, it's Christmas day, y'know," he replied, releasing the air from his cigarette. I shrugged off. It was fine with me since I am a smoker as well plus he's right. It's Christmas.

A car caught my eye as it approached our house. I don't know why, but it felt like a familiar car. The Changretta's are still out there, tracking us one by one. Well- I blame my husband for it.

"John? There's a car coming by our house. We're not expecting visitors.." I looked at the window, moving the curtain a bit with my fingers. John smothered the fire and removed his cigarette right away. He reached for his weapon, which was kept under our kitchen counter table's cabinet. He immediately grabbed my arms. I startled at his touch, I asked nervously, "John, what is it?"

"Get the kids and hide. I'll check who it is," he ordered. My hands found his cheeks as I cupped them. My eyes were slowly filling up with water. "How about you John? I already lost you once and I'm not doing it again."

When his head was already in the noose, I thought I had lost him. awaiting the death angel's arrival to welcome him. I want my children to have a father in their lives. I wish to avoid loneliness. Also, I don't want him to be alone.

"You won't and I'll be back. Just go and hide for me. You understand, (y/n)?" he kissed my lips before going outside. I grabbed the kids immediately, telling them to go to the attic first. My son asked, "What happened, mom?"I got on my knee, now the same height level as my son. I brushed his hair with my finger. "It's nothing to worry about, love. Just go and keep your siblings safe in the attic? I'll be there in a while, okay?" My eldest son nodded in agreement, taking his other siblings up to the attic, and keeping them safe.

I followed John outside. Holding my sheriff gun tightly on my dominant arm.I saw him talking to someone. He put his rifle down, making a conversation with the person. I can't help but be curious and follow him. I sighed in relief, turns out it was only Michael. But that doesn't mean that there's going to be bad news.

"Michael, what are you doing here on Christmas day?" I can't help but ask, I was just beside my husband.

"We need to go now." Michael said.

"To whom?" my husband asked.

"To Tommy. He told me to tell you," he responded.

Fuck. Tommy again. What does he fucking want this time. I can't help but simmer in frustration, my mind fucking with annoyance and exhaustion. After what happened last time, I'm not going to risk my loved ones safety again.

"'Tommy told me' What are you, his fucking parrot?" I argued, my brows knitting together in frustration and in anger. "It's the fucking 'Black Hand'! The mafia! The New York fucking mafia!" Michael debated.

John and I's eyes widened.

The New York fucking mafia? Fucking mafia? Well, fuck us.

John noticed a wagon full of hays stopped exactly in front of our house. 3 men appeared wearing suits and a black hat. Guns out, pointing at the three of us.

"John, no!" Michael shouted but John didn't listen.

John cocked his rifle, shooting the three men. Michael and I did the same. One of their men got hit by our bullets and immediately fell. I was so preoccupied with aiming that I failed to notice that Michael and John had already been wounded and were lying on the ground with blood dripping off of them. I gave them a look. My eyes grew wide with terror and shock. I cried out while squeezing them together. With bullets squeezing his leg, John moaned in pain.

My heart stopped instantly. It seemed as though I was the one going to die. Time and gravity seemed to have stopped. My world came to an end. In front of me, time appeared to be motionless and lacking any sensation of reason or meaning.

Bringing back to my senses, I immediately tore my dress and tied it around my husband's leg, applying pressure to his wound. I did the same thing to Michael too, but John's wounds were much worse than his.

2 men stopped shooting and were heading towards my direction. I grabbed my gun, pointing it at them. "Stay where you are or for God knows what, I'll fucking shoot the both of you." I irritably said.

The two of the men can't help but laugh at what I said. Did I make a fucking joke?

"Very funny. You're a Shelby but you are also a woman. A woman can't shoot! I bet that gun isn't even loaded. How funn-" The man suddenly stopped speaking. His body fell to the ground, blood pooling out of his head. His eyes still opened.

I shot him, directly on the head with no mercy, guilt, and remorse after.

"Well, I'm afraid you lost your bet."

The remaining man was about to shoot me but my actions were more faster than his. I shot him multiple times, emptying the bullet chamber of my gun. "For your information, I shoot better than anyone in the Shelby family. I am a former assassin," you said to the dead bodies in front of you.

Before I left, I said,

"And you don't fuck, with the Peaky Fucking Blinders."

I went back to John and Michael, reassuring both of them that they were dead and that I'd call Tommy and an ambulance right away. John looked at me, and he slowly smiled, "Well that was offensive." I chuckled at his response but hey, it was true. I do shoot better than them. "Stay with me, John. And you too Michael. God doesn't want you guys above there yet."

I ran like there was a race, I reached out for the telephone, calling the hospital to get an ambulance. After that, I called Tommy, rage feeling in every part of my body.

"Black hand, the Mafia, the Changretta's. They were here Tommy. They were fucking here. John and Michael have been shot!"

I hung up the phone and gave it an aggressive touch. I groaned and clutched my hair in a fist. I almost lost my husband again. I quickly made my way to the attic and told my kids they could leave since it was now safe. I told them about their father and uncle while simultaneously assuring them that everything would be alright.

Later on, the ambulances came. They took Michael and John and I went too. The kids stayed with the kids. "Thank you, for backing us up, (y/n). I don't know what to do without you." John thanked me, and his hand grabbed my palm, stroking it with his thumb. I kissed his forehead, muttering an 'I love you'.

"I'm always here, John.

Always."

The End

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader #john shelby #john shelby x reader #x reader #michael gray #joe cole

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strawberry-lemonade-kisses · 7 months

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Empty Nester's (M)

Tags - manga spoilers, new manga ending because it's mine, Fem Reader, Reader is called mama, mom, etc. Cunnilingus, squirting, idk

"With the children away for the weekend, what do you guys have planned?” Makio was swaddled with your baby, 11 months old and so big already, she could easily be mistaken for much older than she is. She was like her daddy, big, smart, and sweet. Harumi had been visiting the Uzui’s on the weekends for the past month giving you and Gyomei a break but also preparing them for the arrival of their own bundle of joy in the coming months. Of course, you had spent weekends as a family with them but then it was suggested that she stay by herself. You compromised with all three of the kids staying with the Uzui’s that way at least Muichiro and Genya knew their sister and could help.

“I don’t think we are doing anything special, a night in, maybe we will get a full night of sleep” Gyomei laughed from the doorway where he was talking with Tengen, the boys crowding him as he talked of their weekend plans. Makio squinted, rolling her eyes before turning back to you. “How is Hinatsuru? Has the tea been helping ease her stomach? It was heaven sent for me, Shinobu had trained Aoi so well” Makio nodded, bouncing slightly as Harumi stirred from where she rested.

“She is doing much better, eating a lot more which we are grateful for. She had us all worried. But she is well, excited to see Harumi, I think the maternal instincts are already kicked in because she hasn’t stopped talking about Harumi since she left last weekend” You nodded, understanding the feeling, throughout your pregnancy just seeing babies made you want to cry from happiness, some mothers would even come chat when they noticed your heavy stomach, letting you gush over their baby.

“Yeah, but Harumi is also the sweetest girl, so patient and she loves her brothers so she’s happy when they are around” Harumi’s head lifted at the mention of her brothers. “You should head home before she falls asleep, she sleeps like her father at night and Hinatsuru may not get to play with her” You urged the Uzui wife back towards the door, Tengen noticing the movement moved to let Makio pass.

“That’s our cue then, we will see you all in 3 days, have a good night, and try not to have too much fun!” Tengen winked before turning to follow his wife, your sons leaving with a wave and a few air kisses before following as well, a row of little ducklings.

As the door slid shut your husband turned to you.

“Come on, I have something for you” He was rocky, still settling into the prosthetic leg, it made him sway a lot when he walked but he no longer had to hold onto your shoulder, he could walk just by holding your hand which was an improvement. He was still hesitant about holding Harumi while standing but that would happen with time, just had to be patient.

“You’ve been so patient with us, every single one of us, from the boys to Harumi, and to me. Since the fall of the demons almost 2 years ago you’ve been so attentive and working nonstop, making sure everyone is comfortable and happy, you’ve kept everyone fed and bathed. You even changed our bandages and helped us bathe, which is no small feat. You did so much and I just wanted you to know how grateful I am, and how grateful the boys are to have you, to call you my wife, to call you a mother. I am so happy to be here with you, to have been given the chance to stay on this planet with you and live happily.” He paused his speech as you got to the backyard, lit with lanterns and decorated with flowers. There was a large blanket in the middle of the yard, filled with pillows to create what looked like the coziest bed ever. Sitting next to the bed was a tray lined with snacks and wine alongside 2 glasses.

“What is all this? When did you do all this?” You turned towards your husband of 5 years someone who you had watched grow into the beast of a man before you today, so gentle and loving and at the same time he held power you couldn’t even imagine carrying after knowing him for 8 years he still gave you butterflies.

“Had some help, you are quite oblivious when you are with Harumi so it was easy, she loves her mama just as much as I do. You are an amazing woman and I’m so honored and blessed to call you my wife.” Your eyes watered at the thought behind this surprise and his sweet words, you hadn’t put thought into the things you did, there was a house to run and a family to take care of after they literally saved the world, the least you could do is take care and help them, it was almost natural, you had been taking care of Gyomei’s injuries since you had first met in the wisteria house your family-owned, although it was closed now, once again it was just a home but more than welcome to those who were former corps members.

“I don’t know what to say” his hands moved to your back, gently guiding you towards the bed, the warmth from the overwhelming amount of candles provided such comfort that it didn’t take long for your muscles to relax as you sunk into the cushions and pillows.

“you don’t need to say anything, just relax, enjoy your night” There was a soft smile on Gyomeis face as he sat down, stretching his legs. “c’mere let me hold you” his words were quiet, like a whisper to draw you into his space, you didn’t hesitate before moving between his legs, letting your back rest against his chest while he wrapped you in his arms, letting his hands rest on your thighs. You both sat in silence, enjoying the clear night with the stars shining so bright you could probably see without the candles, but they provided extra comfort to your night. It was nice having a night with just the two of you, it was something that you hadn’t experienced in years. Between them fighting Muzan and having to relearn how to live normally, to giving birth to your daughter there was always a full house. Now they were able to leave, more than ready to get out of the house and spend time with their friends and family. It was something you weren’t quite ready for. Large hands were wiping away tears before you could realize you were crying.

“What ails you? What can I do?” Gyomei was soft as he addressed you, still holding your cheek as you relaxed back into him.

“They are all leaving, they can leave us now” you sniffled, turning around to face your husband, sitting on your knees. “Gyomei, the boys are gonna get married and leave” Deep down you knew it was ridiculous to think that they would suddenly leave, they were only 17 but you were dating Gyomei at 19 and he was 22, they could leave at any age. Gyomei smiled, his clouded eyes flickering about.

“Let’s slow down, no one is going anywhere. They are spending the weekend with the Uzui’s, and no one is getting married anytime soon unless we marry them off. Lay back, listen to that quiet, no kids, no screaming or fighting, no crying. Tranquility. S nice isn’t it?” You sat back, taking Gyomei’s advice and listening to the world around you. “What do you hear?” you listened close, relaxing into the embrace of your beloved and closing your eyes to truly listen.

“I hear the trees as they shake.”

“Mhm”

“I hear The birds sing their young to sleep. It sounds like they are getting tired” You were focusing, you swear you were, but his hands were distracting, wandering from your hips. His touch started slow, just rubbing your sides like he did when you wanted to relax, but then they started to move inwards, resting on your stomach and moving up.

“What else do you hear” His voice was low like he was telling you something you were allowed to hear, trying to hide it from the world.

“um…” You couldn’t focus on the sounds, not when he cupped one of your breasts, applying pressure as he leaned into your neck, wet kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone.

“focus, what’s going on?” The tone of his voice was a warning, a baritone hum as he continued his ministrations, biting into the skin of your neck as you leaned to the side, giving him more access.

“Frogs” is all you got out, moaning as one hand undid the ties to your clothing and the other continued to fondle you.

“good girl, what else” He paused, leaning back to watch each inch of your kimono fall off your shoulders and reveal your skin.

“I-“ a moan interrupted you as both his hands went to work, pinching the nipple of one breast while massaging the other. His lips still danced along your skin, slowly compared to his rough hands. “The river” He hummed into your skin, encouragement to continue as he worked like he was tuning a violin, plucking the strings of your pleasure until he had it just right. “You” Your answer was met with his hands removing themselves from your body, his mouth detaching itself from your skin. You sat up, turning to look at your husband.

“Yeah? What do I sound like?” His disheveled hair and lack of prayer beads had him looking almost feral, his hooded gaze staring down at you as he crawled over you, moving you until your back hit the ground, looking up at him. Your answer never came as he engulfed you in a kiss, claiming your lips as his own. You couldn’t stop the moan that erupted as one of his hands found purchase on your hip, pulling the band of your panties until they snapped back at your skin. Your tongue grazed his lip, asking for more, and was met with a hasty reply. Your mouths danced so familiarly with one another, like every movement of the other's tongue was rehearsed, practiced an infinite number of times over, each clash of teeth and head tilt a piece of intricate choreography. Gyomei pulled back gasping, head tilting towards your ear.

“You know what I want?” He hummed pressing a kiss to your collar, lips wet with your shared saliva. You made a noise of acknowledgment, too high-strung by his constant touches everywhere but where you wanted. You're sure if you looked down you would see your panties soaked through, uncomfortably damp but you couldn’t care less. “I want to be the one to listen to the pretty noises you make when you cum on my tongue” Your breath hitched as he placed another kiss on the slope of your breast, moving his way down your body, with teasing touches and wet kisses. “Okay?” He continued his path down your body, nipping at your hip bone, tracing the soft skin of your stomach as he nosed at your panties.

“Yes sir”

“Good girl” His praise was accompanied by his tongue, licking at the wet patch that had stained your panties. He was never a patient man when it came to pleasure, you had grown used to it, he knew what he wanted and he wasn’t afraid to take it if you let him, and who were you to deny your husband of such pleasures? He pulled aside your panties, not bothering to slide them off your hips, just revealing the glistening beauty of your pussy. The groan he let out was pure sin like a predator warning its prey before it eats them. Which is what he planned on doing. Gyomei didn’t waste time, diving into the heat of your pussy. His tongue flicked at your throbbing clit, teasing and divine. He went from flicking to sucking, not wasting a breath between both, switching the rhythm to keep you on edge. You reached down, hoping to hold onto him as grounding, afraid you would float away in the thralls of pleasure.

“Mei, please don’t stop” You moaned a symphony for him, following the beat of his tongue. 2 fingers pushed their way into your heat, thick and practiced it was almost too natural for him to do it, like he was using the hand to tighten the ropes of your pleasure, cranking at them in hopes they would break. He hummed into you, enjoying his meal thoroughly, eyes closed like he was lost in his own heaven and that ad you clenching, teetering on the edge of orgasm thinking he was enjoying this as much as you. By the way you could make out the subtle shift of his hips against the ground, you had no doubts he was. His fingers curled upwards, thrusting in at a speed faster than his tongue. You fell, the pleasure quickly overwhelming your body jolted, trying to breathe through the pleasure. You saw stars, eyes rolling back for a few seconds as his ministrations continued, not wanting to slow and end his own pleasure. Another groan resonated through your core that had you yelping, an unfamiliar swirl in your stomach itching forward.

“C’mon baby” He moaned again, begging for your body, and his hand continued it work, mouth quickly attaching back to your overly sensitive bud. A second orgasm came crashing down on you, a litany of explants leaving your mouth as you released all pent-up energy, coating your husband's face in a stream of pleasure. He lapped eagerly at your sex, not wasting a drop of you, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean as well while you tried to come back to earth, breathing heavily and holding weakly to the and that still held your panties to the side. Gyomei sat on his heels, rubbing at your tighs while you tried to get ahold of yourself.

“You did so good mama’s, so good for me, huh?” His tone was encouraging. He was careful as he moved your legs together, giving him room to lay next to you, a space heater for your bare body, still recovering. You looked at him through lidded eyes, a sleepy smile gracing your lips.

“Gyomei,” You whispered, still breathless. He smiled, pulling you into his chest so you could snuggle in, using your kimono as a blanket to cover you and keep you warm.

“I’m here” He pressed a kiss to your head, damp, but you didn’t care.

“Thank you” He hummed, knowing that this was just the beginning of a long night.

#gyomei himejima #kny gyomei #gyomei x reader #gyom #demon slayer gyomei #kimetsu gyomei #kny #kny hashira #kny scenarios #kny x y/n #kny x reader #kny x you #kny smut #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #kny himejima #gyomei x y/n #gyomei smut #gyomei headcanons

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nomazee · 1 year

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silly silly

sebastian (sdv) x gn reader

word count: 2.1k

content: pining (mutual...), AGGRESSIVE pining, reader is smitten and in love, stream of conciousness/ramble type of writing, romantic tension (unresolved), cute and will maybe make ur stomach hurt from anxiety (i have my ways) (i’m lying)

notes: omg hey guys so i wasn’t lying about the stardew valley delusion and now i’m so deep in that i wrote this in a haze last night and posted it to my ao3 and now im posting it here. please enjoy. my heart and soul (my rotted brain) went into this it’s the beginning of my magnum opus

part 1 (you are here) part 2 part 3

<><><><><>

You’re gonna kiss him silly. By the end of the night, you totally are.

It’s something you decided since before you showed up at this jellyfish-festival thing. You barely even know what it’s all about, really—the note from Demetrius didn't say much other than the fact that it was happening tonight, and you should come, and it’s beautiful and all the jellyfish are going south for the winter (like they’re a flock of birds, you think absurdly), and it’s down at the beach at 10pm. You weren’t exactly up to asking him more about it, seeing as it would be awkward to do that and then kiss his step-son on the mouth right in front of him that same night.

That was the plan. Kiss Sebastian on the mouth. It was going to happen and there was kind of nothing anyone could do to stop it (except Sebastian himself, reasonably). You’d like to think you’d gotten close enough to him to let this sort of thing happen. But then again, Sebastian is a special enigma, like a specter floating around on his own path, invisible to the things around him (or at least, trying to be invisible. He’s not invisible to you, never ever ever. You’re too painfully aware of him to let go of that).

Your mind is running with too many thoughts. It’s dark on the beach, and the wood of the dock creaks faintly beneath your feet as you approach where he stands with Sam and Abigail. Vaguely, you wonder how much they’d mind if you yanked Sebastian away from them to give him a kiss. A big fat whopping breath-stealing mind-turning stomach-aching kiss.

You’re going crazy. This whole thing is crazy. You say hi to the three of them and pretend like you’re not plotting this whole thing in your head. They seem none the wiser to your conflicts, and give you amicable greetings as you shift closer to where Sebastian is standing.

He almost blends in with the rest of the night, all black hair and black clothes, but the torches on the dock light him up just enough for you to see his skin and eyes and smile as he glances at you. You greet him, no smile on your part, but a sweet sort of look in your eyes that you hope he’ll catch onto soon. (You don’t think he does.)

He makes space for you to stand next to him, between some empty box and the odd warmth of his body. You take the offer. You’re standing, next to him, so close that you can almost smell the tea tree oil of his shampoo wafting off of him. You think you’re going crazy. You’re going crazy. You look at him, and he looks at you.

Sebastian has a serious look in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. “I thought I saw something moving in there… something big. Something dark.” You nearly nod along to whatever he’s saying from habit. There’s a second or two where you realize how absurd his words are, and he sees it in your face because he goes, “Just trying to scare you.”

Now he’s teasing you, a smile and a fun kind of glint in the way he does it. The thought crosses your mind to warn him, tell him that he shouldn’t play jokes with you like that because it might make you kiss him silly on this beach before the stupid jellyfish even get here. Then you wave the thought away, because really—that wouldn’t be the final straw. The final straw has been broken for days now. Even weeks. Maybe since the first day you spoke to him and he talked so incredulously about how you could’ve picked Pelican Town as a place to live, but you’d like to think you have more self control than to let a love-at-first-sight kind of deal happen like that.

“You’re funny,” you say back, and you hope it doesn’t sound too strangled. “I think I almost believed you.”

“Really? I didn't expect that. I thought you would’ve called my bluff.”

You could tell me anything and I would believe you, you want to tell him. You could tell me there’s a monster in the sea. You could tell me you made the sun and the stars and the moon and the clouds. You could tell me you’re a jellyfish. I would totally believe you.

You don't say any of that. Because that would be embarrassing. Sam says something, and then Abigail says something, and then Sebastian is turning himself around to talk to them now. Sam and Abigail are nice, and you’re close enough to them where if you joined into their conversation it wouldn’t be awkward or unwelcome.

But there’s something telling you to stay quiet. Anxiety, maybe, fear of saying something stupid and ruining every friendship you’ve made in this town. It’s a crazy hyperbolic thought but it’s enough to make you keep your mouth clamped shut. It’s fine. You listen and turn your head to them and nod along with whatever they say, something about the jellyfish being poisonous and how bad would it be if you reached your hand in and grabbed one, and—?

“It’s starting!” Someone says distantly, and your head snaps back to face the ocean just as lights glow from underneath and the forms of sea creatures illuminate themselves. It’s beautiful. It really, really is beautiful, and you think that you should’ve taken everyone’s word that this was a wonderful event, something you really shouldn’t miss out on, something gorgeous and unimaginable and isn’t it crazy we get to see this every year?

The glow pulses bright enough for you to see more of Sebastian’s face from beneath the darkness of the night. You glance to the side, slowly and subtly (or at least, you hope so). His eyes are bright, and just a little bit wider, and there’s a twitch of his mouth as if he’s holding back a smile. As if he would be embarrassed to let it show how much he likes seeing this.

He smiles, big this time, and it’s one of those downward smiles where the corners of his mouth are tucked in and his cheeks are flushed and you are going to kiss him. You are totally going to kiss him, right now, because now he’s looking at you and the smile still hasn’t left his face and you hope you’re not unsettling him by how you’re ignoring the jellyfish at this point just to stare at him.

Sebastian is not unsettled. At least, not outwardly. He’s staring back and it’s soft now. And his stupid smile is still there. It hasn’t moved, hasn’t changed the way that his gaze had, and you hope it’s not because he has the same affinity for you that he has for the jellyfish. You’d like to be more than the jellyfish, maybe.

You’d like to be more. A little more. And you think, just a little bit more time, and you could kiss him. You could kiss him tonight. You could.

You don’t. Your head turns back to the ocean and you’re shocked at the level of self control you just displayed. It’s almost unbelievable. This whole plan, this whole dream had been built up over weeks now and here you were, being patient. It’s uncharacteristic. You wonder. Wonder wonder wonder.

From beside you, Sebastian doesn't deflate, but there’s a moment of hesitation before he turns to face the same direction as you. Maybe he understands. Maybe he knows. You hope he doesn’t know. You hope this is your own secret to keep.

Minutes pass, and the ceremony ends. The rest of it is nothing short of incredible and wonderful and spectacular and every word you could possibly use to describe it. Your legs buzz from disuse as you push yourself to stand up. (You don’t notice Sebastian hesitating to stick a hand out for support before pulling it back to his side.)

“I like this place,” you say absentmindedly, and suddenly everyone is turned to you—not just Sebastian, but Abigail and Sam and maybe even Vincent from further up the dock. “This was really nice. Thank you all for letting me stay here.”

There’s a pause, and you can’t believe any of that just came out of your mouth. It was cheesy and sappy and insane. This night has rotted your mind so much it’s starting to ooze out of your mouth. You hate this town. You love it. You let them know.

“Of course, man!” Sam is exuberant, and he smiles at you. “I guess at first it was weird having someone new here, because no one new ever comes here. But you’re great. And you’ve done so much for all of us. Really.”

Abigail nods along, a firm gesture paired with this triumphant sort of smile that makes your chest warm. “Really. Like, yeah, maybe it sucked having my old hang-out place taken over by a stranger.” (Sam elbows her. She yelps indignantly.) “But you’ve kind of made it worth it. Thanks for everything, too.”

It’s sweet. It’s all so sweet it makes your teeth ache and your head ache and your stomach ache. You’re hit with a sudden need to go home, and it’s the first time you’ve really felt like you knew where home was. It’s weird. Your legs ache, now.

Your head is muffled. You think you nod to all of them and you hope the appreciation and care in your eyes is enough to make up for your stunted responses. People are packing up and going home. Sam and Abigail give some sort of look in your direction, not unkind, but unusual, and suddenly Sebastian is thanking you for the night and asking to walk you home. You want to kiss him. Kiss him. Hold his hand and kiss him and trace his palm and maybe throw him into the ocean with the possibly-poisonous jellyfish remnants.

It’s quiet as he walks you home. Faintly, you realize how out of character this is for him. But this whole night has been full of out-of-character things for you and him and everybody. This is so weird. You’re going crazy. You’re going to kiss him.

Or, you think, for sure, that you’ll kiss him even if it wasn’t in front of the docks or the jellyfish or his friends—you think, for sure, the rest of this night is going to be made up of you kissing him silly on your doorstep and then collapsing in your bed and moving back to the city in shame.

But. But but but. But. There is something. And you don’t know what it is. And you don’t know if he’d kiss you too, but maybe. But. But but but. You don’t.

You’re at your doorstep. You thank him. And now, you are both waiting expectantly at your door for something to happen. You need to make it happen. Now. You need to kiss him and you won’t move and your stomach is aching and you think maybe you have a shellfish allergy.

“I feel sick.” It’s not a lie, and you really are two steps away from throwing up on his shoes and you really, really don't want that to happen—if you throw up on his shoes, then you’ll never be able to kiss him, because every time you reach for him he’ll be struck by the memory of you splattering vomit all over his sneakers and then he’ll ask you politely to move back to Zuzu City and never look back. (You think this is accurate.)

“Get to bed,” he tells you, and you’re shocked to hear him speak after so long. “It’s been a long night.” He’s polite, he’s kind, he’s so so kind that it’s stabbing you in the chest and twisting around your insides and why couldn't you just kiss him like a normal person?!

Okay, you think you say. Okay okay okay. His brow is furrowed and his lips are downturned but not in that odd smiley way of his. He’s just worried, now, and you think you’re going to be sick, for real this time.

You don’t tell him goodnight, but the slam of the door in his face is probably enough of a signal. You’re embarrassed. You didn't even kiss him. You can’t even tell if this night is a success or not. Kitty walks across your feet and looks up at you as if she knows what kind of clusterfuck of a night you just had. What a little shit. You let her follow you to bed and sit on your chest while her deep breaths lull you to sleep.

You didn't kiss him. What a wreck. What a joke. You’ll kiss him tomorrow for sure. Kiss him silly.

#stardew fanfic #sebastian x reader #stardew valley x reader #sebastian sdv x reader #stardew valley fanfic #sdv x reader #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley x player #sebastian x player #sebastian x farmer #sebastian sdv x player #sebastian sdv x farmer #sdv x player #how tf do you tag on here for this fandom.#stardew valley

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter thirteen

summary: luca visits his mom, while you deal with the aftermath of aiko's funeral.

warnings: fluff, angst, grief, death, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 4.5k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: well folks, this is the final chapter of 'burn your life down.' what a beautiful journey we've all been on together. i swear, this was only supposed to be a headcanon, then a few chapters maybe, and then 46.5k words later... thank you again and again if you read, commented, reblogged, or screamed at me in gifs because this story quite literally took over my life. i will be releasing a 'behind the scenes'/director's cut post, a few headcanons about the kimuras and the mikkelson twins, and want to write more for these two. so... what do you want to see them do next?

in the meantime, let's go get carmy married in "don't want to walk alone."

part twelve | masterlist

The clang of spoons against chipped mugs that date back to his primary school days feels comforting and familiar. Luca smiles to himself, dropping another sugar cube into his tea, using his teaspoon to mix it in as he listens to his mother make a sharp pivot away from her previous subject.

“Anyways, it’s not that I don’t love a spontaneous visit home, but we can’t ignore the elephant in the room, love,” his mother prompts him, finally done with dancing around the small talk her son’s have engaged in for the last thirty minutes.

“This girl, Luca,” she continues, sending him a look that says ‘you’re not getting out this one.’ “You haven’t brought a girl home in… god knows how long.”

“I-,” Luca begins, a smile on his lips that’s contagious. “It’s-, it’s not like that mom.”

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say: that he’s hopelessly in love and that he hasn’t said anything yet because even though he wants nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops, that you’re here in London for a funeral and not to meet him mum?

“Well, darling. Then what is it like?” his mother asks him with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Luca hesitates, wanting to be strategic with how he explains this because the love he feels for you really is extraordinary. But he doesn’t want to jump the gun either. Because what if it all falls apart and he’s spoken too soon? You did just lose your mother-in-law, and he’d rather introduce you to his mum when you both are ready.

Finally, Luca decides what he’d like to say, returning his attention to his mother before replying with:

“She’s special… She's really special to me.”

His mother laughs, because although her son seems to be cautiously tiptoeing around some kind of imaginary fine line, the truth is written all over his face.

It’s in the way the corners of his lips turn up when she’s mentioned you. It’s in his shy nature and eagerness to avoid the subject. It’s in the way her son’s undeniable coyness, as she bridges the subject, that tells her that he’s found his heart.

“Oh I know that look. You’re in love,” Luca’s mother declares, reminding Luca that she really does see right through him.

“Do you think she’s the one?’

Luca sighs, turning the idea over in his head. It’s almost as if he hasn’t let himself feel it, hasn’t let himself think too hard about it, but the blush that runs across his cheeks gives him away.

“I sure hope so, mum,” Luca answers, honestly.

“Well,” his mother replies, smugly, as if to remind her son that she’s always right when it comes to him. “I’d like to meet her,”

“Mum, I-,” Luca begins, before pausing once more, suddenly overcome with the desire to fulfill her wishes. “It’s just… we’re here for a funeral is all.”

“And that means the two of you can’t stop by for a cup of tea?” his mother asks, haphazardly.

“I’ll ask,” Luca promises, firmly.

“I mean, what’s the hold up, my love?” she asks again, and it’s almost as if Luca knows she isn’t expecting an answer.

“Right,” he mumbles in agreement, something distant in his voice.

And while Luca wants nothing more than to be patient with you, for the both of you to make this decision together, the irrefutable pressure he feels from his mother’s question seems to create a sense of urgency that takes root. As it begins to spiral out of control, his mind filled with thoughts of doubt, his mother’s question echoes in his head:

What’s the hold up?

Surely you could manage just one visit before returning to Copenhagen, right?

Luca watches his mother take a sip from her teacup, his mind beginning to wander to earlier today, as she goes on about a recent neighborhood happening. As brave of a face as he’s been putting on, it was odd, seeing the family you used to belong to. And it’s not as if, with the divorce, that all just went away. He knows you’re still close with Astrid and the fact that you and Joe aren’t mortal enemies, seeing the two of you together earlier today, was harder to stomach than he imagined.

He can’t help but be filled with feelings of jealousy – jealous of how close you still are to the Kimurs, irrationally nervous that you and Joe seem to still have such a positive relationship, envious that he got to love you first. His reaction to his mother’s question is just a reflection back to him of his own worries, his own impatience, his own insecurities.

And Luca can’t help but wonder:

What would it mean if you weren’t ready to meet his mum?

-------------------------------

“I hope it’s not too late to set my demons straight. I know i made you wait, but how much can you take?” – kendrick lamar, ‘die hard’

You decide to take the long way home, walking off the afternoon, surprised to find how deep of sadness that still remains buried in your belly. Of course you expected to be sad, to be filled with grief over the loss of your former mother-in-law, but it’s something else, the bittersweetness of closure that’s left you feeling so heavy.

It’s not that you’ve missed Joe – not in that way at least.

But as you sat next to him at the neighborhood pub you’ve been to with him more times than you can count, it became more and more evident that he is no longer your Joe – and hasn’t been for a long time now.

You recall just a few of the things you remember about him that reminded you of this: the way his dark curls seemed wilder, messier, than you’d seen them in a long time, that his five o’ clock shadow that used to feel so rough against your lips looked unfamiliar now and how much you’ve forgotten the way the rough texture laid against the soft skin of his face, how his shoulders slumped with a burden you know is too heavy to bear.

When he’d told you all about his new job, it’s as if the elaborate portrait of his life that he’d painted for you began to unfold right in front of you. Only this time, as you listen, you come to realize that it’s been painted with brush strokes that weren’t yours, with colors you don't recognize, making your revelation clearer and clearer:

Joe has built a life without you – one that you don’t fit into anymore, at least not in the same way – and you’ve done the same.

Even though you left on a high note, at peace with Joe, reconnected with the Kimuras, and free to begin your next chapter, it feels like your heart is in pieces, reeling from the emotional whiplash of endings and beginnings.

And you can’t seem to stop crying, letting the tears run down your face with every step you take towards your temporary residence.

As you approach the hotel, riding the elevator up to you and Luca’s room, you’re surprised to find him more jovial than you expected. It’s not like you expected him to be sad – this isn’t his loss to grieve after all, and you’re glad that it seems like he’d had a good visit with his mum – but it feels jarring, like you’re not sure how to meet him there as you continue to sort through your thoughts and feelings from today.

“Hi,” you say, cautiously.

He hums in response, pulling you into a huge, sweeping kiss as he smiles against your lips.

“Hello, my love,” he grins, as he pulls away from the kiss.

You can’t help it, and you wish it were different, but there’s a pit in your stomach as you begin to notice how different of spirits you’re in.

“How was your visit with your mum?” you ask him, as if you’re trying to solve a mystery, trying to figure out where all of this energy is coming from.

Luca, driven to boldness by his mother’s question, seems to have thrown all caution to the wind as he answers with:

“It was great! Listen, I know it’s not the best of timing but, she really wants to meet you. Before we go home. What do you think?” he pitches to you, charging through his sentence like a confident and emboldened CEO.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out.

No longer as patient as you’ve come to know him, his sudden change makes you nervous, and for the first time in a long time, you panic; you feel like running.

“Luca, I-,” you stammer, searching for the right words to just fall out of your mouth.

But they don’t.

So you pause, licking your lips before adding, “I’ve had a long day and… I just-, I don’t know if I’m in the right headspace for that?”

You don’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it comes out as one. Expecting for him to be just as understanding as he’s been the last few months, you’re more than surprised when Luca seems disappointed, cross even, at your response as you’re met with silence. You watch as he presses his lips together in a thin line, swallowing as he focuses on the floor.

You feel like you just told him that Santa Claus wasn’t real, taking a breath as you take a few steps towards him.

You’re not sure how, under the circumstances, he could expect you to be as enthusiastic as he is, but you’re almost too afraid to ask questions – a pit in your stomach about where this could all go.

“Honey, I-,” you sigh, taking his hands in yours as you’re quick to reassure him. You want nothing more than to remedy this, to tell him yes, but you can’t seem to get those words out of your mouth so instead you choose to explain yourself.

“Today has been… totally fucking crazy and… I think I just want to take a nap. I-, just because-.” You pause once more, trying your best to address the situation at hand. “It doesn’t mean anything that I don’t-, that I’m maybe not ready to-.”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” he asks you, pulling his hands back and taking a few steps away. You’re silent as you watch him pace back and forth, your heart sinking as he pulls away from you.

“Wh-, what do you mean?” you stumble through, nervously.

Luca pauses his movements, really looking at you this time as he asks, “You say it doesn’t mean anything. But it does. To me.”

“Baby, what’re you talking about?” you ask him, taking another step towards him.

“That you’re not ready,” he snaps at you.

Perhaps it could be different, he could react with much more grace and compassion, but between seeing a piece of your old life, and the doubts swimming in his head, he’s not sure he can wait any longer.

“Luca, that’s not fair,” you whisper softly.

“I-, I know. But-,” Luca tries his best to explain, becoming increasingly frustrated with himself as he continues to talk. “I just-, it’s hard not to think it means something. That you wouldn’t want to meet her.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet her!” you insist, trying your best to reassure your boyfriend. “It’s just that I just said goodbye to my mother-in-law and it-, it kind of feels like… well, I can’t just replace her!”

“I’m not-, I’m not trying to replace her!” Luca can’t help but exhale frustratedly.

“That’s not what I meant,” you’re quick to interject, the air between the two of you suddenly feeling tenuous.

Luca takes a breath, his jaw clenching in response to his deep feelings of jealousy. He knows it’s not fair but he reminds himself that he’s only human as his mind is filled with questions he wants to ask you like:

Why can’t you just let go of them? and, Do you miss them more than you love me? and lastly, this one in his mother’s voice, What’s the bloody hold up?

“I know,” is what he says instead, choosing to be the better man he knows he can be. He pauses, taking a seat on the hotel bed, his eyes fixed to the floor once again.

“Luca, I don’t understand,” you start, taking another few steps toward him so that you’re now standing in front of him. “Why are we fighting right now?”

Instead of answering right away, you search his face as he avoids your gaze, giving you more and more pause for concern.

“I just… are you having doubts… about us? After today?” he drags out, his voice strained.

“No, what-, where would you have gotten-, what do you mean?” you ask him, suddenly questioning if you’ve given him any reason to think otherwise.

“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to meet her!” he exclaims with a shake of his head.

“I never said I didn’t want to!” you’re quick to object.

As Luca leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees, you cross your arms over your chest as it becomes more and more evident that this conversation is getting heated.

“Luca, where is this coming from?” you ask softly, in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.

“Well, you didn’t say yes,” he throws back at you, and it hurts more than you thought it would.

“Yes, because-. I told you that I don't think I’m in the right mindset,” you struggle to explain. “Wouldn’t you rather I meet her when we’re both ready?”

“When you’re ready?” he points out.

“Luca, where is this all coming from?” you repeat your question, this time more sure, a deep concern in your eyes as you drop your arms to your side. You sit down on the bed next to him this time, wanting him to know that you’re on his side.

“It’s-,” he starts, before letting out another frustrated sigh. “I know that you’ve needed us to take things slow… but it’s been months and I just don’t understand how you’re still not ready.”

His insistence that you’re not ready only continues to frustrate you

“I’m not! That’s not what’s happening here,” you defend yourself. “Luca, please. I am ready. But meeting your mom is a whole different thing especially when, shit, babe. Especially when I’m navigating this loss and… and when you’re pressuring me like this!”

He scoffs, “You’re just scared.”

“I-. That’s not-. Yes, I am, and so far I’ve pushed through my fears because I want to be with you. Because I love being with you, Luca,” you insist, angling your body towards him this time.

“But right now this all feels pretty unfair and I just don’t know why, suddenly, you need me to do this. I mean, if it was this important to you we should’ve talked about it before we came.”

You pause once more, because really, you’d just like to understand why you’re fighting in the first place.

“Why is this suddenly so important for you?”

“Because I need to know-,” he snaps, finally turning to you. “I need to know that you feel the same way that I-. Because I-.”

You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off, knowing that, regardless of whatever’s got him so tied up into knots, it’s not the right time for either of you.

“Don’t,” you beg him, reaching out to grab his hand with yours. Luca looks up at you, returning your gaze this time and the disappointment in his eyes breaks your heart for a third time today.

“Please, don’t say it. Not right now. Not while we’re fighting. I don’t want the first time we say it to be when we’re fighting.”

There are so many things Luca wants to say, but instead, he doesn’t, too afraid the words will tumble out of his mouth because he knows it’s not the right time either. So instead, he sits there, wondering how he got himself caught up in this mess.

“I think I should go for a walk,” you say, breaking the thick silence between you. “Think we need to take a break… from this conversation. Before either of us say anything we don’t mean.”

“I promise. I’ll come back. I promise,” you reassure him.

“Okay,” he finally says, agreeing with you that maybe you both need a time out from this conversation.

“Okay.”

You can’t help it, but you can’t get out of there fast enough. With your jacket wrapped tightly around you, you wander the city for as long as you need to, especially since the tears have come back.

You can only imagine that it’s not been easy for Luca to have accompanied you to the funeral today, but you can’t seem to figure out what would’ve set him off like this – what could’ve filled him with so much doubt and so much urgency. You wonder what his mother must’ve said to him, wonder if something she said got into his head about your relationship. You know you’re not a walk in the park, but doesn’t everyone come with their own set of baggage?

The answer is simple. You take a time out, then you and Luca talk this all out when you get back to the hotel. You have no intention of running away, as much as the lesser parts of you would like to do nothing but, because you’re in this.

You know you’re in this, and even though it doesn’t seem like it, you know that Luca can feel it too.

Your mind wanders over to what he almost said.

I love you.

And you love him too.

The words have felt more and more prominent as of late, lingering in every goodbye, hanging heavy in the air as he’s held your hand through your grief, on the cusp of being said every time you make love.

Suddenly, overcome with the urge to tell him, you turn around, power-walking towards the hotel. He said it earlier, that he just needed to know that you felt the same way, and while there is so much more you need to talk out, this feels like a good place to start.

And more than anything, it feels like the thing that you need to do.

You come bursting through the doors to the hotel room, finding Luca there, still pacing. His jacket is thrown on the bed in a different place, and you gather that he must’ve gone out for his own walk as well.

“Hi,” he greets you, almost as if he’s surprised that you came back.

“I came back,” is all you say.

He nods slowly, before taking a seat on the bed once more, “Yeah.”

You walk towards him so that you’re now standing in front of him again.

“We have… so much to talk about… but… my walk made one thing clear,” you begin, cradling his head in your hands and lifting it to your gaze as you kneel down. “There’s something I-. I have to tell you that….”

His eyes meet yours as you finally say it:

“I love you, Luca.”

Overcome with a swell of emotions, Luca pulls you in, kissing you as you crawl onto his lap. You press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, and while he entertains you for a few more moments, he finally pulls away with a chuckle.

“What?”

“It’s just that-. Well, I wanted to say it first,” Luca chuckles, earning a laugh from you as well.

“Well sometimes things happen unexpectedly. Like meeting you,” you say, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper the words against his lips. “And I need you to know… that that was the very best thing. You are the very best thing.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I should’ve been more considerate. It’s not like we’re here for a holiday or anything-,” Luca begins to apologize, now that he’s come down from whatever had possessed him earlier.

“You’re right. I wasn’t being fair to you, my love.”

“No it’s-, you needed to hear how I felt. And I get it now. This… whole trip has been… weird, I know,” you catch up to him, wanting him to know that you understand. “But I so appreciate you owning your part in it too.”

“My mum just, I don’t know. She got in my head. Had me overthinkin’... About us. Made me realize that I’ve got a lot more on the line here to lose,” Luca tries to explain as you leave soft kisses across his face.

“And what does that mean?” you ask him playfully, knowing exactly where this could go.

“It means that,” he starts, a cheeky smile on his face, before Luca leans in for another kiss. This time, he whispers the words against your lips.

“That I love you too. So, so much.”

-------------------------------

You’ve asked, requested, demanded really, time and time again to see photos, but as you sit in Luca’s mum’s home, staring at a photo of a young, rebellious, teenage Luca, it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined.

“And that was his ‘I just want to be normal like the riff raff that he was runnin’ around with’ phase,'' his mother, Elaine, explains over your fit of giggles.

“Oh mum. Can we not, please?” Luca groans, shooting his mother a playful glare.

“He insisted that ‘Luca’ was too strange of a name. Not a proper English name either. Insisted I call him ‘Lucas’ so, yes, this is Lucas,” Elaine continues to share, against her son’s wishes.

“God, that’s so embarrassing. I don’t know why I wanted this to happen in the first place,” Luca sighs, looking from you to his mother.

“Oh honey, I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” you giggle, giving his knee a squeeze under the table. “And yes, Elaine. I will be taking this photo with me. Think we should hang it on the fridge.”

Luca groans again, while Elaine exchanges a glance with her son, an entire conversation being had with just a shared look.

As Elaine continues to share another photo of ‘Lucas,’ pouring over old family photos and memories, you’re sure that this man is the love of your life.

You’ve had first love, the naive kind that breaks your heart because it’s the first time that you’ve ever felt this way before – the good and the bad. And then there was Joe, who somehow encompassed the feeling of being forever young, while being the love that grew you up too. But this? Loving Luca makes you feel safe and wild at the same time – like at any moment you could take a risk, knowing that you’ll always have a safe place to land.

And as you look to Luca, watching him beg his mum not to embarass him any further, you smile knowingly, because you can feel that this is it.

-------------------------------

It’s the night you launch your Winter menu, and while you recognize that if any of your signature dishes came off the menu, there would be riots in the streets, you’re more than excited (yes, and definitely a little nervous) about the cozy additions you and Mathilde have dreamed up.

At your pre-shift standup, your wait staff take turns practicing how to talk about some of the new dishes on the menu, and while you trust them to handle this one with care, you feel it’s important for you to speak on this one.

“And this is the final dish that we’ve added to our winter menu,” you begin, pausing before you share.

“As most of you know, I lost my former mother-in-law almost two months ago and um. Well, she taught me everything I know about Japanese cooking. So this is a dish for her: a red miso ramen with white miso-glazed kabocha squash, enoki mushrooms, ajitama and pickled green onions. It’s um. It’s a very personal dish to me, so I hope you enjoy.”

You watch as your staff, front and back of house, dive into the ramen bowls, trying the last dish you have to go over as a team, their faces lighting up with pure glee and sheer delight in response to the dish.

Your phone buzzes in your apron pocket, and as you pull it out, you see a few texts from your group message with the Kimuras, in response to the photos you sent of your finished dish.

Astrid: OMG it’s beautiful!

Lina: I’m hungry now. Save us some!!

Joe: She would’ve loved it. :)

“Looks like I’m right on time,” you hear a familiar voice say, pulling your focus from your phone to the front door.

“Luca! What’re you doing here?” you ask him, as you shove your phone back into your pocket, moving towards him.

“I know it’s a big night for you. Thought I’d come in a bit later but Mathilde invited me to the standup. Thought you may need a little additional support,” Luca shrugs, as you give him a soft ‘hello’ peck on the lips.

“Yeah, no I-. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I just introduced the ramen, actually. Aiko’s dish,” you reply, the smile on your face undeniable as you're filled with nothing but joy and love for the man that stands in front of you. “But let me make you up a bowl.”

“I’d love that,” Luca nods in agreement.

You make your way back to the open kitchen, watching as Jesper pulls up a chair for Luca, right next to yours. Mathilde is quick to offer him a smaller plate, welcoming him in with open arms. As you plate your dish, you can’t take your eyes off of him, and you have to remind yourself that you do need to make up this bowl of ramen at some point.

But seeing Luca here with your team – here to support you on your big night, on a night that you’re sharing your whole heart in one bowl of noodles – you’re overcome with a deep sense of gratitude that you get to be the one who loves him. You think back to the day you met, so glad that that evening was slow, that he chose to leave the box of pastries, that he asked you to come to AOC, because if he hadn’t, who knows where you’d be?

You walk the ramen bowl back to the table, setting it down in front of Luca with a kiss to his cheek as a bonus, as you sit down in the chair next to him. He smiles at you, a glimmer in his eyes that says, ‘thank you, my love.’

You smile back, thinking about what he said earlier, when he first walked in this evening because the double meaning isn’t lost on you.

And because he’s right.

Maybe, he’s always been right on time.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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firelordsfirelady · 4 months

Text

XIII. Pinky Promises

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess?

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 3089

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here.

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

Thankfully, the crew and Zuko let me rest till very late in the afternoon the next day. As I sat at my desk brushing my hair, I stared at the firebender I had been drawing before the Fire Nation rudely drug me away yesterday. I had been busy adding a small amount of shading to the picture, and the small firebender I had drawn looked more alive now than it did when I started. A smile subconsciously found its way to my lips as I reminisced on my conversation with a certain firebender last night.

I will honor my agreement to marry you. Zuko’s words echoed in my head as I lightly touched my lips. He had kissed me last night, and, by the way the butterflies in my stomach fluttered, I may not ever recover from the kiss as my cheeks tinted a deep shade of pink.

Walking out of my room, I knocked on Zuko’s door, but there was no reply from within. I shrugged my shoulders as I walked down to Iroh’s door and knocked gently. Iroh’s friendly voice welcomed me inside the room, and I smiled as I walked in and greeted the older Firebender.

“Ah, Y/N, please have a seat. Would you like some tea?” He asked with a smile as he held up the tea pot. “I got some lovely ginsei tea from the last supply run we did.”

“Actually, I was wondering if you knew where Zuko was.” Iroh gave me a knowing smile as I asked my question.

“Ah, yes,” Iroh said as he poured three cups of tea. “He is in his prayer room.” Turning around, Iroh handed me two cups of tea. “He has specifically requested that no one disturb him until they have news of the Avatar.” The smile on Iroh’s lips had me furrow my eyebrows in confusion as I grabbed the cups, then I realized why Iroh was giving me two teacups.

“You want me to tell Zuko we have no news about the Avatar?” Iroh lightly laughed at my question and handed me a rolled map.

“What better way to receive unwanted news than with a beautiful woman bringing you tea?” I rolled my eyes as my cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

“If only the young prince saw it that way.” I laughed, careful not to spill the tea. Iroh smiled a knowing smile at me.

“Besides, perhaps, the two of you might be able to talk.” I rolled my eyes at Iroh’s attempt to set Zuko and I up on a date.

“I’m going to tell him you sent me there for a date.” I teased the older man who laughed at my statement.

“I am not the one who called it a date.” Iroh teased back before he turned around to hold a small tea tray towards me. “Then take this tea tray.” I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue at the Firebender before setting the two cups on the tray and taking the offered tray from his hands. “Good luck on your date.” Iroh laughed as I rolled my eyes and left the room.

My heart thudded against the bones of my ribs as I walked towards the set of double doors that separated the hall from the prayer room. I felt nervous as I shifted the tray to rest against my right forearm as I raised my left hand and gently knocked on the door.

“I said to only come if there’s news of the Avatar.” Zuko’s calm voice came from the other side of the door. I took a deep breath before I answered.

“Even if I have tea?” My voice was light as I carefully opened the door. Zuko sat cross legged on a small stool in front of four lit candles that sat on a table. The candle flames grew then dimmed as Zuko sat with his back to me, but he turned to look at me as I gave him a warm smile.

“I was clear when I told Un—“

“And Iroh was the one who sent me to tell you the news.” Zuko’s eyebrow raised itself as I looked around the room to set the tray down. “But, you must remain calm with the news.”

“Uncle always said that a great leader keeps their cool.” Zuko calmly spoke as he turned his attention back to the candles in front of him.

We shall see how calm you remain. I stood there holding the tray of tea before I straightened my shoulders and smiled.

“We have no idea where the Avatar is.” The flames of the candles erupted into larger flames that reached the ceiling as he turned around with anger.

“What?”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” I clicked my tongue and shook my head before I took some water from one of the cups and put out the candles. “You’re lucky to have me around with that temper.” I smirked as the Firebender struggled to calm down. Now that the candles were out, I carefully walked over to set the tray down on the table.

Zuko was dressed in a loose robe that stopped above his knees. I had yet to see him dressed so casually before, and it was sending my heart into a whirlwind as I tried my best not to stare at the handsome man as I turned back around.

I shook my head as the thought crossed my mind, but I straightened up to give the prince a smile.

“Your uncle wanted me to deliver the news because,” I dropped my voice to imitate Iroh. “What better way to receive unwanted news than with tea delivered by a pretty lady.” I let out a light laugh before I turned around to find Zuko’s ears had reddened. “I told him that you might not see it as such.” A friendly smile was on my lips, but my heart hammered in my chest.

“Uncle has a way of exaggerating things.” Zuko said in a calm voice before he looked away. “He’s not wrong about the tea though.” My cheeks reddened as I looked away from the Prince. “Let me see the map.” Zuko took the rolled up map from my hand and unrolled it. I could see a black line drawn from several random points on the map as I looked over Zuko’s shoulder.

Had that been a compliment? I didn’t linger on the thought as I looked back up at Zuko.

“I couldn’t help but notice there’s two cups on the tray.” Zuko’s eyes brieflylooked towards the tea tray before he continued looking at the map. My ears reddened, but I tried to play it off with a laugh.

“Perhaps he thought you’d like some company while you drink your tea.” Zuko smirked at me as he rolled the map back up again. “It looks like the Avatar has been all over.” I said as I nodded my head towards the rolled up map, and Zuko sighed heavily.

“How are we supposed to find him if we don’t know where he is.” Frowning slightly, I walked up and squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“We will find him, Zuko.” I smiled at him. “I know it.” He stared at me briefly as if I had two heads. “Matter of fact, let me see the map.” He gave me the map as I had asked and I unrolled it. Scanning my eyes over the map, I was drawn to a small island in the earth kingdom. Pointing to it, I asked Zuko what the name of the island was.

“That’s Kyoshi’s Island.” Zuko said as he looked at it. “Nothing significant other than it was Avatar Kyoshi’s birth place.” I blinked at him.

“I have a feeling that we might find the Avatar there.” I casually shrugged as I rolled the map back up. “Giving his random path, he could be marking things off of a bucket list or something.”

Zuko and I stood there awkwardly in silence before I cleared my throat.

“Well I’ll be go—“

“Do you want—“ Zuko and I started at the same time, and I let out a laugh.

“We need to stop doing that.” I laughed, and Zuko let out a small chuckle.

“Do you want to have some tea with me?” Zuko asked before I could finish my sentence, and his cheeks turned red as spoke.

“I thought you weren’t to be disturbed until there’s news of the Avatar?” I teased as I raised an eyebrow at the Firebender to cover the heart pounding in my chest. “I’d hate to disturb you with no news.” Zuko rolled his eyes at me, but the corners of his mouth raised a bit.

“Who said you were disturbing me?”

Mentally his words have me screaming, but physically I tried to keep calm as I gave him a smile.

“As long as I’m not a bother,” I bowed my head slightly before I looked into the golden eyes that were looking at me. “I’d love to have some tea with you.”

A few hours later, Zuko had me in tears.

“It’s seriously not that funny.” Zuko said with irritation as his ears betrayed his embarrassment as I held my stomach with laughter. Wiping tears from my eyes, I took deep breaths to try and calm my fit of laughter.

“Oh, trust me, it is that funny.” A small laugh left my lips again before I smiled at the Prince. “I just can’t imagine you stuck in a tree dangling..” Another fit of laughter threatened to bubble out of me as I spoke. “It’s almost as funny as the time I got my tongue stuck to the ice cap back home.” Zuko and I looked at each other before we both started laughing at the same time.

“How did you get your tongue stuck to the ice cap?” Zuko asked as his laughter calmed down. An easy smile rested on his lips as he leaned against the wall of the prayer room with his hands behind his head. I laid on my back as I looked at him from my spot on the floor.

“Five year-old me thought it was a brilliant idea to lick the ice cap after Mayuh had done it and said it tastes like sushi.” I laughed at the stupidity of my younger self. Wiping tears from my eyes, I smiled at the fond memory. Zuko’s face scrunched up as he looked disgusted.

“You believed it would taste like sushi?” I laughed before reiterating that I was five years old at the time. A comfortable silence fell between us as I happily laid on the floor by the casually sitting Prince. I looked over to admire him as he stared blankly at the liquid in the cup between his hands. His eyes swam with such uncertainty that it broke my heart.

“Do you remember the dream I told you about the koi fish--the moon and ocean sprits?” My quiet words left my mouth as I looked at the Prince. Blinking slowly, Zuko slightly shifted his attention to me.

“Yes, and I remember the story about them coming to be mortal for a day.” Zuko’s eyebrow raised and I knew as he opened his mouth that he was going to ask me a question.

“I started having those dreams as far back as I could remember.” I looked up at the ceiling above me as I spoke. “I dreamt about one of the fish--the moon fish--dying during some dreams. Other dreams were me climbing into the pool to swim with the spirits with a young girl with snow white hair.” Zuko stayed quiet as I talked.

“When I was ten, my father said he had business to discuss with the Northern Water Tribe, and he would be gone for a few months. I begged Father to take me with him.” I let out a small chuckle at the memory. “And I mean I begged. I did all my schoolwork for that year and the next because he worried about my schooling.”

“Dad finally agreed, and I was ecstatic to arrive at the Northern Water Tribe. I met the King’s daughter, Princess Yue, and she looked just like the girl in my dreams.” Taking a small strand of hair between my fingers, I twisted the strand around my fingers as I sighed.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you, Zuko.” The firebender was as calm as ever as he patiently waited for me to continue. “Father and I stayed long enough for the day to come that the Moon and Ocean spirits would spend an evening as mortals among us.

“I followed Princess Yue to the sacred spring and was in absolute awe at the sight of the koi swimming in their water. I remember Yue put her hand in the water and the white koi playfully swam to her, so I did the same. The Ocean spirit came to greet me before the two koi playfully swam between our hands.” The memory made tears come to my eyes as I smiled fondly at the memory. “I could hardly believe something like that was possible.”

“We returned home shortly after, but I was never the same after that interaction.” My chest felt heavy as I prepared to let Zuko in on a secret I had been keeping from him. “Ever since I returned from that trip, I’ve had these dreams or visions that are so vivid and feel so real that I have to question if it happened or if I imagined it.” My words were slightly unsteady as I continued.

“When I was ten, I had a dream that began seeing Mayuh laying on a pile of wood with her hands folded neatly over her chest. She looked peaceful as I approached to tell her my final goodbye. I remember reaching out to her and touching the cold shoulder of my grandmother as she laid in bed. My touch caused her to fall back slightly and I screamed as I saw dried blood from her nose and lifeless eyes staring back at me.” I closed my eyes at the memory. “Mother had assured me that it was just a nightmare.” I let out a bitter laugh. “She heard my scream three weeks later as I found my grandmother dead.”

“My best friend died when I was fifteen after being chronically ill for years.” Turning to look at Zuko, I bit my lip as his golden eyes looked at me with sadness.

“What are you saying, Y/N?” Zuko asked quietly as I looked back to the hair between my fingers.

“Do not be upset about what I am about to say.”

“You’re not about to tell me I have died in your dreams, right?” I let out a small laugh at Zuko’s question.

“No. You didn’t die.” I sighed as I closed my eyes tightly. “I dreamt about the light we saw in the sky and I heard your voice say something about the Avatar before I saw the Airbender standing in your room.” I heard a sharp intake of breath from the surprisingly calm man near me. “I had a vision of Avatar Kyoshi’s Shrine happen that same night.”

“Are you asking me to believe your dreams are predicting the future?” Zuko’s words sounded dubious as he spoke, and I let out a bitter laugh.

“Absolutely not.” I said. “Life just has a strange way of making the visions happen.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I hope some of them are just dreams.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to give Zuko a smile, but he looked at me with concerned eyes.

“There’s more that you aren’t saying.” Zuko’s words were quiet, and I tried to keep my face stoic while he stared at me.

“Hey,” Zuko’s soft words was accompanied by the soft caress of my face with a gentle hand. Forcing me to look at him, Zuko gave me the softest smile as he looked into my eyes. “You can talk to me.” My lungs ceased to work as I mulled over telling Zuko about my dream. “As long as you’re not about to tell me I died in your dream.” Zuko said in a slightly joking manner, but I didn’t find it funny as I replied.

“I drowned.” My words were softly spoken in a volume barely audible to me as I blankly stared at something other than Zuko’s eyes as the flashbacks of the dream washed over me. “It ended with me drowning.” Silence greeted my heavily said words only briefly before a gentle hand moved the hair out of my face. My eyes focused back to the golden orbs looking back at me with so much emotion, but his facial expression held determination.

“You won’t drown while I’m around.” Zuko’s honest words made my heart jump in my chest.

“Pinky promise?” My voice sounded small as I held out my left pinky to him. “It is against the law to break a pinky promise.”

“A pinky promise?” Zuko’s ears reddened at my suggestion. “What are we? Children?”

“No. We are soon-to-be twenty year-olds who still believe in the binding magic of a pinky promise.” I tilted my head and slightly raised my eyebrow as I smiled at Zuko, offering my pinky again with a small bend of the finger at him.

“On one condition,” Zuko started, and I raised an eyebrow with curiosity. “You tell me about any visions or dreams you have.” I nodded in agreement. With cheeks tinted red, Zuko wrapped his right pinky tightly around my left one.

“I pinky promise that you won’t drown while I’m around.” A wide smile grew on my lips as I tightened my pinky around his too.

“I pinky promise to tell you about any dreams or visions I have.” I repeated then a yawn escaped my lips as I slowly moved to sit up.

“Thank you for having tea with me.” I said as I gathered the cups and the tray. “I enjoyed spending time with you.” Zuko’s face was red as the earnest words effortlessly left my lips.

“Are you free for another training session soon?” Zuko looked at me after he stood up and handed me the tray from the floor. “I feel well enough to train some more.” A smile rested on my face as I looked at the golden eyes staring at me.

“Do you think I’d miss the opportunity to beat you?” Zuko’s cocky smile greeted me. “Never.”

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