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icallhimjoey · 1 year

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Lost & Found

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!

Author’s note: i know i already said we were going at a slower pace, but, i really meant it - ive got too much other things going and i apologise! part four might take EVEN LONGER ive got a busy month coming up, so we'll see how it goes! thanks for being patient with me <333

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Your breath hitched as your fingers twitched with need of a self-destruct button when you saw him.

Swimming shorts, black. The ones you’d had in your hands two days before. Linen shirt, short sleeves, beige – unbuttoned. It was one of the things you’d tried on. Your friend had said it looked like a pyjama top on you. You were glad to learn it did not look like a pyjama top on him.

Sunglasses. Black, dark, and designer if you were to go by the large metallic logos on the sides.

Hair sort of all over the place, like he hadn’t touched it after rolling out of bed this morning. Book in hand, paperback, folded corners and broken spine.

If you were honest, it was kind of a vibe. Until you panned down, and...

Loafers.

You hoped that the glare of the sun didn’t turn your sunglasses transparent enough for Joe to notice you weren’t looking at your phone screen when you saw him step out and enter the pool area.

He walked past a couple of sun loungers that had towels on but seemed otherwise fairly abandoned. The pool was empty, the water too cold to casually dip into, so the towels probably belonged to people who dumped them there before breakfast, just to ensure they’d have a space of their own in the sun later.

Well, it was later now, and had there been no empty sun loungers free of towels, you’d have tossed a random one to claim as your own. Like the one right next to you. Just a big white towel from the hotel on an empty sun lounger that seemingly belonged to no one.

You saw Joe get closer and closer until you realised that he seemed to be coming right over to you.

Maybe he’d seen you and was now just there to come and tell you that he needed his jacket back. The one he gave you last night. The one you were meant to return to room 907. The one you still had up in room 1103.

Listen, it had gotten late. And you’d gotten too tipsy.

You also weren’t sure if you’d remembered 907 correctly, and, what if he was asleep already, you know? You decided after having your 6th drink poured into a plastic cup that you’d bring Joe his jacket tomorrow.

Maybe just after breakfast.

But then, you’d slept right through breakfast, hadn’t you?

You’d woken up two hours after falling asleep, and hadn’t been able to slide back into slumber until after you’d watched the sunrise from your balcony through blinking bleary eyes.

You’d only gotten a very quick gulp of water into your system after brushing your teeth, and now here you were, by the pool, living your best holiday-instagram-filtered-story life.

When Joe walked into earshot, you were ready to launch an excuse at him for not having returned his jacket yet.

But then he bent and sat down on the sun lounger next to you and you realized; that was his towel. One he'd probably laid down just before breakfast to ensure himself a lounger for when he'd want to enjoy some time by the pool side later.

Later was now, apparently.

Joe sat and took off his loafers as he looked over at the pool where the sun made the surface glitter, and then you saw him turn his head to look at you, giving you a polite smile.

“I was going to bring it over last night,” you blurted out as you sat up a little, “I promise, room 907, I didn’t forget. It was just, it got a bit late, and I didn’t want to maybe wake you– I’ll give it back today,” God, the nervosity practically dripped from the words you squeaked out.

Joe just smiled, which only made it worse.

“I... I’ll go get it right now, sorry,” you swung your legs to the side but stopped when you heard Joe laugh.

“That’s okay, no worries,” he quickly said, stopping your feet from finding your flip flops.

“I wasn’t going to keep it,” you reassured.

“I didn’t think you were.”

Okay, good.

“None of my other things have gone missing, so you’re fine,” Joe scrunched his nose and made a face before he got comfy with his book in his lap.

You thought back to that first night with his suitcase. He was sort of right. You could’ve easily kept something - probably would have if you’d listened to your friend who kept telling you, “That looks great on you, fucking keep it,” over and over.

“About that...” you heard yourself say it before you could stop yourself.

“Can I, just, do you want my unsolicited opinion on something?”

Joe found the page in his book he’d left off on and used fingers to bend the spine a bit further. He didn’t really reply, which you took as an invitation to just drop what had been on your mind without holding back.

“Just, I don’t understand, you seem–” you thought your choice of words over just for a second. “You sort of seem like you know what you’re doing. Man on a business trip, expensive clothing, all tailored I’m guessing, and then there’s– I’m sorry, but why would you use two-in-one shampoo?”

Joe blinked at you a second.

“And not only use it, but bring it?!”

It took Joe a second to figure out how to react to your animated question. You seemed genuinely grossed out and properly confused.

Man on a business trip.

That tickled him.

“You um... you went through my toiletries?” Joe asked, eyes back in his book, hoping that maybe the question would get you to blush again like you’d blushed when you’d met at the airport the day before.

“I went through everything, and you fucking know it,” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself now. “Please tell me that bottle has been in your that bag since the nineties and you don’t actually use it still,”

Joe snorted, head bobbing a little.

“I mean,” he started, “It’s how long I’ve had the bag, so that’s not as implausible as you’d think,”

“Yea, it looks it, Joe” you jabbed, grinning, and that’s when Joe realised.

The fucking toiletries bag.

The one he’d had since he was eight.

The one his mother had written his name on with black sharpie so he wouldn’t lose it.

JOE

He could picture it clear as day.

You knew his name because you’d read it on his toiletries bag.

You didn’t know who he was.

His mother’s handwriting had revealed his name to you, and you didn’t fully understand the wistful little smile that overtook his face for a moment as he frowned at his book a little.

This new knowledge shifted something for him. He could dissect the relief of it all later, if he wanted to. Now, it just made him want to entertain this interaction further.

So he did.

Asked you if he was correct at having missed you at breakfast. Told you he wasn't actually on a business trip, but just there for a short break from the hustle and bustle of the city, of work.

You told him you were there for the same reason, and you swapped similar stories of busy jobs and hectic schedules, of tensed shoulders and worried supervisors who pressured you into trips to the sun, and now, here you were. By the poolside of a nice hotel where they served nice drinks and, would you like a drink? What did you have last night?

“Stop, if anyone needs to get anyone a drink here, it’s me. As a thank you for the jacket and not having me, you know, arrested.”

You got up, were about to wave your card in Joe’s face but found yourself plonking back down onto the lounger.

Weird.

You didn’t feel dizzy at all, but somehow your balance felt off. You went to test it by giving your head a little shake, and then suddenly, the world moved sideways. Gravity pulled at you from the side, making you lean there a little, and then, a lot.

There was lounger where you landed, shoulder first, but there wasn’t enough lounger. After bouncing once, you felt yourself slide.

It somehow felt fine, didn’t make you panic at all, your brain already making sense of it but in all the wrong ways. You didn’t feel so heavy, head all light, and so the thud to the floor wasn’t so bad. It was almost like you floated down there, but then, with your cheek pressed against the warm concrete, everything unexpectedly moved upwards with a rough jerk. Smacked you right in the face and the rest of your body sort of slumped down, hurting your cheekbone and what you thought was your brow bone as your full weight seemed shoved into them.

It hurt.

Not in the same way the cold water of the pool hurt the bones of your feet when you'd sat on the edge of it earlier – this felt worse. Cutting.

Your face was pushed into the ground by your own weight until out of the blue, the concrete moved away from you, and you floated back up. Back the right side up.

There were hands and they pulled, and it hurt your arm, your elbow, your shoulder.

“Did you faint? What the– did you faint? No, you– hang on,”

Hands clambered at you until you were back on soft familiar surface, but everything felt a little sticky. And somehow you were fucking freezing.

“Joe?”

You felt your vocal cords say it, you knew you just said something, but you didn’t hear them. Was your voice not working? Or was it your hearing that had gone?

“You fainted,”

“It’s fine, I don’t– what’s happening, what is…”

“Fucking hell, lay down a second. Legs up too, just, I want you flat– be flat,”

You didn’t move quick enough for Joe’s liking, which Joe realized, of course you fucking didn’t. You just smashed yourself face first into the concrete and your eyebrow was bleeding now. In an attempt to gracefully get your legs up onto the lounger too, Joe nearly flung you off of the whole thing on the other side. Managed to grab you by the side just before you swung too far.

“Hands, hands,” Joe just grabbed them. “Give me your hands.” He was already holding them. “Here, hold the sides for me. I need to move you into the shade.”

And then the whole world moved. A tree came into view as the lounger you were on got dragged across grass. It disoriented you into a dizzy spin that made you forget which way was up for a second, even though you were staring right at up.

In no time, two guys who wore polo shirts with hotel-logo-nametags hovered over you and a lady from three sun loungers over stepped in to tell them to get a first aid kit. Something to clean that gash with. To make the bleeding stop.

Joe stepped back and let her mother you for a second, told one of the guys who worked at the hotel that you’d gotten up from the sun lounger and then just… fell.

The lady asked if you’d eaten, and you tried to convince her you were fine and that all of the fuss was a bit much, but then you had to confess that you hadn’t actually eaten and you’d also not slept very well the night before, and the night before that, and, you actually hadn't slept normal in ages, and your shoulders hurt, lower back too, and you’d drank a lot the night before, and, Jesus Christ, you were so fucking cold.

“Someone get her something to drink, she needs sugar,”

“And a sandwich maybe? Something to eat?” Joe added, making the other man scurry off.

There was a moment where the lady and Joe looked at each other and then both looked back at you and you felt so stupidly embarrassed.

“Can I– I want to go back to my room,”

So you could fester in your own embarrassment by yourself in peace and quiet. Without people staring down at you, and no doubt from all around the pool too with all the commotion that was made.

“They’re getting you a drink and some food, and you need your eyebrow looked at,” the lady smiled politely at you, using a finger to wipe some of your hair away from getting stuck in the blood there.

You moved a hand up to touch it, to feel how bad it was, but saw Joe reach an arm out that he quickly snapped away when you halted. You moved it to your mouth instead, to bite at the thumb nail to stop your teeth from chattering.

You were outside and people were barely wearing any clothes and seemed fine – why were you still freezing?

“Are you cold?” the woman asked, already looking around for a towel to drape over you.

“I’m fine,” you lied, and heard Joe huff a laugh. Obviously, you weren’t.

“Here,” he said, and you saw how he handed over the white hotel towel from his sun lounger. It got carefully placed over your shoulders, and it helped a little, but you just wanted to go upstairs and crawl back into bed. Get under the warm covers and sleep this off.

The first aid kit arrived, and this random hotel guest in a bathing suit took it from the guy who’d brought it over. She took over completely, cleaned your face with disinfectant and asked for Joe to help her cut a piece of tape to bandage it up. You saw his fingers fumble, shaking a little bit, like he seemed nervous.

A plated club sandwich and a can of coke arrived. After plenty of “How are you feeling?” and you repeating that you were fine over and over and over in between sips and bites, you were finally asked which room you were staying in, and if you were there with someone.

You hesitated to answer, afraid that if you said you were alone, they wouldn’t just let you go back to your room. They should, of course they should just let you do whatever, but there were three strangers doting over you all worriedly, and then also a fourth one who, even though you'd gone through everything he brought on this trip, was still technically a stranger too.

“It’s okay,” Joe then said. “I’ll take her up to her room.”

And before you could complain about it, he’d slung his towel around his neck, had taken the glass and the plate, then bent sideways and stuck an elbow out for you to loop an arm through.

It was a little weird to walk into the hotel with Joe. To get into the lifts with Joe. To step into your room with Joe.

It was a little weirder to say you were going to shower and that you were fine, thank you.

It was a little weirder when Joe didn’t just accept that and looked at you with worried eyes before he asked if you could shower with the door open, and if he could sit just outside in case the hot water did silly things to your blood pressure. What if you dropped in the shower and no one would be there to stop you from drowning?

“Drown? It’s a shower.”

“Place could flood.” Joe shrugged.

It was weird when you looked at each other a second and you realised he wasn’t going to leave. Wasn’t going to let you shower with the door shut and locked, and so, fine.

Joe awkwardly stood in the middle of your hotel room, plate and drink still in hand, when you moved the desk chair closer to the bathroom door.

“I’m sorry, I just, that lady from downstairs will murder me if I don’t make sure you’re okay,”

You laughed at his excuse and gestured for him to put all he was holding down on the desk.

“I’ll be quick.” You said, finding a change of clothes to take into the bathroom with you.

“Please, take your time. Don’t rush.”

You didn’t rush, but were quick anyway. You now had a man waiting for you to finish a shower and you knew you’d gone through all of his things, but leaving him alone in your hotel room surrounded by all of your things felt invasive.

The warm water was nice and managed to relax your shoulders a little.

Not a lot.

But, you know, all little bits helped.

“I’m okay,” you called when you shut off the water, hoping maybe Joe would reply, ok great, and maybe leave. He didn’t. Just said, “Good.” and then stayed put.

When you emerged with wet hair, in soft shorts and a white tank top, Joe smiled at you. His eyes immediately went to the wet bandage that covered your eyebrow still, the tape strong enough to have kept it in place. Good. That was good.

His smile quickly disappeared however, when he saw you rub a hand at your neck, your face displaying a painful grimace.

“Your jacket,” you pointed and Joe looked. Saw his jacket. Had seen it already.

He didn’t move to grab it, instead turning back to you. His eyes flicked between your face that displayed painful discomfort and the hand that was squeezing at the flesh of your shoulder now.

“All right, I’ll leave you alone in a second, but before you tell me you’re fine again, can I… can I just…” Joe held both his hands up. You just looked at them and didn’t move. Joe, in turn, placed both hands on top of your shoulders and frowned at what he felt.

“Jesus, all right,” Joe turned, looked around the room, eyes darting and brain going at top speeds to put a plan together.

“Do you mind if I…?”

Perhaps Joe could start actually finishing his sentences, you thought, although you thought you knew what he meant and shrugged both your shoulders up to your ears.

“No,” Joe’s eyes grew wide before he tutted at you. “Don’t, that doesn’t help. Come, sit,”

Joe sat down on the edge of the bed before you did.

“Face that way,” Joe pointed towards the windows, away from him. You followed instructions without question and felt how he collected your hair into one hand before carefully placing it over a shoulder so it’d be out of the way.

“You know this isn’t what this is meant to feel like, right?” You could hear the humour carried in his voice. Of course you knew that. You knew you also weren’t meant to bite at your nails until your fingers bled. Weren’t meant to wake up sweating and panting because you’d hallucinated being trapped in a small dark place again.

You felt the mattress level out behind you as Joe got up and stepped forward. He bent to the side a little, getting his shoulder in front of your face.

“Here,” he touched himself where he’d touched you just before. “Feel this bit, how you can easily squeeze the soft tissue here?”

You reached up, hesitated for a moment, but then touched Joe over his linen shirt that had a few buttons done up now, and squeezed where he told you to squeeze. Like it was normal.

That was… that was all muscle.

Not as thick and hard as whatever was happening to your shoulders, but these were Joe’s warm muscles you were pressing your fingers into.

“Now feel yours,” Joe moved back, touched his fingers to where he wanted you to feel, and made you squeeze yourself in the same spot and, yea, okay, that was a big difference.

“I am also here to relax, but clearly one of us needs it more than the other,” Joe huffed a laugh through his nostrils as he sat down on the bed again behind you and he got back to what he was doing before.

“I've not gotten a good night's sleep in months,” you revealed as Joe dug thumbs into where it hurt.

Hurt good.

Hurt so good.

“You should book a massage,” Joe spoke softly, but kept massaging your shoulders, the bottom of your neck.

“Hmmh,” you replied, afraid that if you’d say anything else, he’d stop what he was doing.

Joe kneaded and pushed and squeezed and touched for a while, and you noticed you were starting to have to work really hard at not flopping over. At sitting up right and keeping your eyes open. You repressed yawns and tried to remember to breath properly, but you’d just had a nice shower and you’d barely gotten any sleep before and now you were on your bed in a comfortable outfit and Joe was massaging you with his big hands and maybe you could rest your eyes, for just a second, you know?

“Here, lay down,” Joe suddenly whispered and without acknowledging how weird it was that Joe just sat outside your bathroom whilst you showered and was now massaging you to sleep in your hotel room, you just laid down. Instantly got comfortable on your stomach leaving enough space for Joe to sit on the side, one knee folded onto the bed and the other dangling down the side still.

“There’s a– do you feel this?” Joe pushed knuckles exactly where you wanted them. “Huge knot.”

“Feels nice,” you whispered, breathy and exhausted.

“I can loosen it up a bit more, but this– you really should get a professional massage,”

Joe kept working strong fingers and even stronger knuckles into the same spots until you couldn’t even feel it anymore. Just felt numb. Or maybe you were just falling asleep and not stopping yourself from slipping under.

Joe’s hands never ventured much lower – maybe just a little, but nothing inappropriate. You were only strangers after all. He thought that you knew who he was but then you didn’t and now the playing field was level and, sure, you knew more about him because you’d gone through his whole suitcase, but he was in your hotel room now and you were falling asleep under his touch.

Fell asleep under his touch.

You woke up in an empty hotel room hours later, covered by the folded-over other half of the duvet you were lying on top of.

You felt… well rested. Only a little disoriented. A little thirsty. Nothing crazy.

The last thing you remembered feeling was Joe’s fingers trailing from your shoulders down your arms and back up again and you felt a little sad that he wasn’t there anymore.

It was still light out, but the sun was setting and it felt like the whole day had passed you by today. You stretched, body feeling looser. Better. Joe was right though, you needed to book a massage. Maybe two. Or three.

When you looked over and saw Joe’s jacket still there, slung over the back of the chair that was now back in its spot behind the desk, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you. He could’ve taken that – should have taken that, and yet…

Yea, the day had been weird.

Had been weird from the start.

The weird night's sleep, Joe's toiletries bag, the wound above your eye, the empty coke can on the desk, the massage that had put you to sleep for several uninterrupted hours, and, Joe's jacket.

Weird.

And then room service was weird.

And watching the sunset from your balcony was weird.

Then trying to get back into bed for actual nighttime sleep was weird.

All of it, just... weird.

Room 907.

You'd said you would return the jacket today.

And then he'd been in your room and he'd stayed with you until you'd fallen asleep and then he hadn't taken it.

Joe's jacket was still in your hotel room.

Weird.

You tried ignoring it. Tried to watch TV. Scrolled on your phone. Thought of taking a long bath, maybe.

But that stupid jacket. It kept calling your attention from across the room.

Even after turning off all the lights and tossing and turning for about an hour, you could still feel it there. Taunting. Whispering dares.

Bring me to his hotel room.

Take me there.

Come on.

And...

Fuck.

All right.

You sat up in bed, flicked on a light and squinted both eyes at the sudden brightness.

There it was, still in the same spot. Joe's jacket.

“Fine. You win.” you told no one and slung your legs out of bed, grumbling with annoyance as you took the jacket from the chair and found your hotel room key on the side.

Room 907.

The hotel was quiet as you took the lift down two floors and found Joe's room quick enough.

You stalled a second, unsure if you should knock, but then thought, fuck it. You were there now, jacket in hand, and you'd said you'd bring it back today. You knocked softly, then waited and listened. Nothing. Just to be safe, you knocked again, and then heard the soft click of a light switch. You ignored how that made your heart thunder in your throat.

It didn't take long for the door to open. When you saw Joe's tired face, you immediately knew you'd made a mistake.

You should've waited 'til the next morning. This wasn't a cool move.

“Your jacket,” you felt so dumb. Looked so dumb.

But then you caught sight of the smallest of smiles as Joe took it from you, holding the door wide open as he did.

A beat of silence followed where you hoped Joe'd say thanks, so you could tell him thank you for letting you borrow it in return.

The thanks never came.

Instead Joe stepped aside, door still wide open, and gave a tiny backwards nod that welcomed you inside, followed by a quiet whisper.

“Come on.”

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #icallhimjoey #lost & found #lost and found #part three

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veronicaphoenix · 4 months

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Series: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits | masterpost Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader x Oliver Sykes

Hearts Like Ours. Additional multipart. Chapter 2: The Angel of Death | Words: 8k Summary: The morning after her breakdown, Reader does not expect to get any better until a certain person unexpectedly appears at her front door.

Tags and trigger warnings: established polyamorous relationship, angst, hard truths, anxiety, mentions of parent's negligence, comfort/fluff, noah only appears on phone in this part but he's mentioned throughout the entirety of the chapter, soft!oli, mentions of blowjobs, sexual content (spit used as lubricant, p. in v., protected).

Author’s note: this is mostly self-indulgent so bear with me, i love softness 🥹 It's also another attempt at writing something short and ending up with 8k 🫠 Regarding tags, I'm trying something new and tagging everybody down below in the comment section, given that as of lately a few people have reached out to tell me they didn't get the notification and I've read somewhere that tags indeed are not working well. So let's see if this does the trick.

When she woke up the next morning, her neck and stomach ached, a remainder that she had skipped dinner the night before. Sitting up, the two shirts she had slept with clung to her and then fell to the floor, reminding her why she had chosen to sleep on the sofa instead of the bed. She was alone. Noah wouldn’t be home for another three days, and Oliver was lost somewhere in the southern United States.

It was Saturday. How was she supposed to spend the entire day alone at home, with no work and no one around? She felt even more pathetic than she had the night before. What was happening to her? She hadn’t always been this dependent; she hadn’t always felt this miserable.

But then again, it wasn’t every day that your mother hurled insults at you and made you feel dirty in a way that was far from the real thing.

She ran her hands over her face. If only Luna were here... Given her age, Oliver had decided not to bring her to America, and now his father, Ian, was taking care of her.

Last year, they had talked about adopting a dog, mostly so she would have company when the boys were away, but with work and the idea of getting married, adoption had been pushed aside. Now she regretted not insisting more.

Still holding the shirts, she went upstairs and made a quick trip to the bathroom, overwhelmed by another wave of misery as she caught sight of herself in the mirror—eyes swollen from yesterday’s crying and her face as pale as a ghost. The sight of Noah’s and Oliver’s toiletries—their toothbrushes, shaving cream, face wash from different brands, a facemask Oliver had recently got from Lush…—only deepened her sadness.

Her deep sigh echoed in the empty space.

She had to eat something and get out of the house, get some sun and fresh air. She’d told Jack she would visit Sylvie, but the truth was she didn’t feel like it. She was happy for them. She was going to be an aunt. But she was feeling so blue that, she knew if she met Sylvie, both would end up crying, for totally different reasons.

So, she opted to tidy up and spend the day cleaning. That’s one of the things Noah used to do whenever his mind was not in the right place.

Before breakfast, she checked her phone, tempted to message the boys and tell them she was going through hell, that she couldn’t silence the voices in her head —especially her mother’s— and that she needed them because she felt like she was sinking. She wanted to swim to the surface but felt like she had a rock tied to her ankle, and she would probably drag herself to the bottom before they came home.

She hated being aware of the self-destruction her own mind subjected her to and not being able to do anything to stop it. It was a battle against herself that she couldn’t win. A battle she had fought before, and although it seemed she had won many times, those demons always came back sooner or later.

In the end, she just let Noah and Oliver know she was awake and, to distract them, sent a couple of photos of her underwear abandoned on the floor when she changed into somehting more decent. She knew that spending the whole day in pajamas would only worsen her state.

In the kitchen, she made herself a cup of tea and something to eat.

After having lunch on the back porch and letting herself be caressed by the sun in one of the hammocks, she went back inside, ready to spend the next few hours watching a comforting movie on the couch. Or perhaps an angsty one, and cry a few more tears. What did it matter now?

She remembered then she hadn’t picked up the mail for the past four or five days. A mix of excitemend and dread flooded her at the thought that maybe Oliver had sent a postcard from wherever he was, even if it was just from somewhere else in the country. He’d started doing that the previous year, and it was a sweet gesture that always warmed her heart.

Stepping outside, she found her neighbor Marina tending to her plants and flowers in the front yard, a lovely married woman in her forties with two children. They greeted each other, and Marina asked about the boys. She replied that there were still a few days left before they returned, and Marina, probably sensing her sadness, kindly suggested joining her at her house any afternoon for tea. It was a comforting gesture, though still far from the kind she truly wanted.

With only a couple of letter in her hands and no postcard from Oliver, she made her way back to the front door, only taking a couple of steps before the sound of a car pulling into the driveway and stopping made her turn around. The sight of the black Range Rover made her heart flip and almost lose her balance.

Oliver stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him without taking his eyes off her. During the short walk toward her, his green gaze remained steady and unwavering. He wore casual jeans and a t-shirt, exuding calm determination.

Before she could even react, he was in front of her, gently holding her face in his hands, and then he kissed her.

Her hands instinctively moved to his chest, her right one still clutching the envelopes. However she could, her fingers gripped his black tee tightly, as if fearing he might disappear at any moment.

His mouth was warm, his kiss passionate and urgent. She was left nearly breathless.

When she finally lowered herself from standing on her tiptoes and opened her eyes, her heart was pounding wildly.

“What are you doing here?” she managed to say, it being the only coherent thought she could muster. In truth, she didn’t care about the answer. It was enough that he was there in the flesh.

Oliver let out a sardonic smile. “Hello to you too, love,” he said, poking her nose. “Where am I supposed to be when my girl needs me?”

His words stunned her for a few seconds as he took her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb.

Of course, it had to be Jack who told him.

“But—What about the tour? How did you get here so fast?” She asked, still gripping his t-shirt with one hand.

“We’d better go inside,” he suggested, nodding towards the house next door where Marina was watching them absently as she trimmed the dried leaves from her plants. Oliver waved at her, asking how she was with the easy charm of a gentleman.

Marina would have chatted for quite a while, likely making mention of his girl’s mood and asking Oliver the very questions she wanted answers to. But Oliver, sensing this, skillfully dissuaded her in less than thirty seconds, practically dragging his girl inside the house.

Once inside, with the door closed behind them, she dropped the letters on a small table in the entryway and threw herself into his arms, bursting into tears on the spot.

Having Oliver there, being able to hold him, inhale his masculine scent mingled with his perfume, and feel the brush of his long hair against her cheeks, felt like a miracle.

“Please, don’t go.”

“Love, I just got here.”

“I know, but I’m sure you’ll have to leave again in a couple of hours.”

With a resigned sigh, Oliver took her hand and guided them both into the living room, settling onto the couch.

Oliver observed her silently for a moment, studying her face for signs of the previous day’s tears and the sleepless night. They were all there, all too evident.

He gently stroked her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, savoring the moment, the warmth of his skin against hers.

“I can stay until tomorrow night,” Oliver murmured softly. “As soon as Jack called me, I booked the first available flight out of Houston. We have two days off until the next show. I have to be in Kansas City the day after tomorrow. But please, don’t worry about that now. What the hell happened?”

She struggled before mustering the courage to tell him.

She began with a vague summary of the events, but Oliver insisted on the details, wanting to know every word her mother had spoken.

She watched as he clenched his jaw, holding back a torrent of curses.

As a few more tears traced down her cheeks, Oliver gently pulled her into his embrace and fetched a box of tissues from a nearby coffee table.

“Why didn’t you wait until Noah and I were back?” He questioned, watching her wipe her tears. “We said we’d tell her together, precisely to avoid this,” he said, not intending to scold her but clearly unsettled by her decision to face her mother alone.

“I know, but I couldn’t shake the thought, and I didn’t want her saying anything hurtful to you, so I thought I could handle it on my own,” she confessed, sniffling into the tissue then dropping it on the coffee table.

“And did it do you any good?” Oliver asked, his tone soft, his gaze tender as he peered at her.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head, defeated. “It just made everything worse. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours feeling miserable and missing you both terribly. Last night, I felt like I couldn’t breathe without you guys around. I just wanted to protect you…” she trailed off, her voice heavy.

“I know,” Oliver murmured, gently touching her face again. “But we protect each other, don’t we? We’re stronger together. If Noah and I feel low, we lean on you, and you make us feel better. That’s how it works. You have to let us do the same, doll. It’s taking you too long to get rid of this habit.”

She sighed, but she knew he was right.

“If you keep everything to yourself, then what’s the point of this? Of us? Of being in any relationship, for that matter?” Oliver continued, his eyes reflecting her own sadness. “We’re together because we love each other, and by love I mean that we’re by each other’s side under any circumstance. Loving us is not just you giving me and Noah blowjobs and letting us have our ways with you, baby. Loving us means you’ll let us know when you’re anxious, when you’re sad or angry. You’ll let us help you because we want and we love every part of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between. Wasn’t that clear?”

His words made her feel terrible, very aware of her mistakes, but she deserved it. If anything, to at least make her understand for once and for all that she had to lay her head on their shoulders whenever she needed, without a second of hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just hard… because loving also implies that you don’t want the other person to get hurt, and all I was doing was…” she trailed off. There was no point. Her voice turned into a whisper and then into desperation fading into nothing.

Oliver squeezed her hand and placed it on his thigh, speaking gently.

“Listen, I know this is hard to accept, but you don’t owe anything to your mother,” he began. “Our parents made us, but we’re not meant for them. You’re meant for me and Noah. Everything else, everyone else, is just a bystander to your story. You can’t force them to be a part of your life if they don’t want to, darling. It sucks. It fucking sucks because sometimes you want people to be part of your life so bad… but they don’t want to be; they don’t want to share your happiness, they might not even understand it, and that’s okay.” When he saw her face, Oliver chuckled softly. “I’m not saying that the things your mom said were okay, but you get my point. You’re not meant to live your life by your mom’s wishes or follow in her footsteps. You don’t have to walk with her. You’re walking with Noah and me.”

Seen that way, from that perspective, Oliver was undeniably right.

She had spent much of her life trying to please her mother, striving to be a perfect daughter even when she wasn’t consciously aware of it. Since formalizing her relationship with Noah and Oliver, she had come to realize how many decisions she had made in the past with her mother in mind rather than herself. And now, with her mother’s rejection of her relationship with the boys, all that weight came crashing down on her.

Her mother didn’t want her, didn’t want a daughter like her. But as a parent, there’s only so much control one can have. She wasn’t a child anymore, she was an adult, and she had done nothing wrong. She had simply fallen in love. Hard and twice.

Loving wasn’t a crime, and as much as it pained her not to be able to share that happiness with her mother, as much as her mother couldn’t see how happy Oliver and Noah made her, she realized that her attempts to make her mother understand had to come to an end. After all, Oliver’s words spoke the truth: the most important people were the two of them, her fiancés.

Staring at the ring on her finger as realization dawned on her, she was filled with profound sadness. She had lost her father long ago, a man who had chosen to go his own way, unable to wait until his children were old enough to let them walk their own path and make their own decisions. And now, she felt she had lost her mother, too.

One parent had not waited to see her grow up; had not held her hand as she learned to walk the path of life. The other one was unwilling to see her walk hand in hand with two men.

Tears welled up in her eyes once more before she could stop them. She was a mess.

“I know it hurts,” Oliver’s voice soothed her, his hand running gently throught her hair, “but you gotta let it hurt until it doesn’t anymore. There are some things we cannot change, and this, I’m afraid, is one of them, baby.”

Seeking solace, she moved to straddle him, unable to bear the distance anymore. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head on his shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks and staining Oliver’s tee’s fabric. She let him envelop her in his embrace, pressing herself against his body as he held her close. He placed a couple of tender kisses on her shoulder and neck, offering her the comfort she needed.

She remained in his arms for a while, relishing the warmth of his body, the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against her own, and the security of being in his arms. His whispered words of comfort in her ear were like a balm to her troubled soul.

She could easily drift off to sleep there, cocooned in his arms , feeling grateful that Oliver had dropped everything just to come home and be with her.

“Did you tell Noah?” She whispered, her lips brushing against his neck as she resisted the urge to move even an inch away from him.

“Yes, of course I did,” he replied, his hand finding the hem of her shirt and sneaking in to rub her back. She was soft as silk and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the feel of her skin under his hands every single day and night he spent away. “But I want you to call him and talk to him. He’s worried.”

The sigh that escaped her this time was heavy.

“What?” Oliver said, teasing her. “Did you think that picture of your underwear on the bedroom floor was going to do the trick?”

She shrugged, not particularly caring.

“Come on,” he encouraged, pullling out his iPhone, resolute on not extending that dispiriting situation any second longer. “He might still be up.”

Without a chance to compose herself or check her appearance in the mirror, Oliver was already Facetiming Noah.

As soon as Noah’s face appeared on the screen, looking all cozied up in a hoddie and sat on his hotel bed, he saw her curled up in Oliver’s lap, her head resting on his shoulder with her tear-stained face, and his expression fell. Noah clicked his tongue, his brown eyes filling with sadness.

“Kitten..”

She tried to hold back another wave of tears and sobs. She sniffled and attempted to smile. But as soon as she uttered “I miss you”, she had to take a moment to steady her breathing and control her sobbing. Oliver pressed a kiss to her forehead.

A few moments were filled only with her soft crying, then, with some self-control, in the quiet of the house, she began to talk to Noah, recounting every hurtful thing her mother had said. Instead of feeling tortured by reliving those moments, she focused on the relief of sharing her pain with her boys, feeling lighter now that they knew.

Noah did his best to offer comfort from the other end of the line, though he knew it wasn’t a simple fix. He was just grateful that Oliver had rushed home to be with her, knowing that besides words of reassurance, she needed their physical presence.

Just as much as she needed them, he needed her and Oliver.

All those nights on the road, sleeping in bunk beds or alone in hotel rooms, had been manageable until he fell in love. Suddenly, sleeping alone felt like a punishment for every misstep in life. He understood her perfectly. And considering what her mother had said… Fuck. All he wanted was to be there for her, to hold her while Oliver comforted her, feeling complete with them by his side.

It was late where he was, and she could tell from the exhaustion etched in his eyes. Her own state wasn’t helping him at all, so she mustered the strength to encourage him to end the call and get the rest he needed. He promised her he’d be home soon. Just a few more days. Nothing would keep him from coming back home to her.

After hanging up, Oliver tenderly touched her face, his thumb stroking the side of her jaw as she breathed against him.

“You look tired, too,” he remarked.

“I didn’t sleep much last night,” she admitted.

“Want to take a nap? I could use one myself,” he suggested.

With a nod, she attempted to rise from his lap, but Oliver shook his head. He grabbed a folded blanket from the sectional and urged her to lay down as he nestled in beside her, letting her find a comfortable position with her head on his chest and her legs intertwined with his.

He enveloped her and covered them both with the blanket. He kissed her hair tenderly and she reciprocated by pressing a kiss to his clavicle. After exchanging whispered “I love yous”, she finally allowed herself to drift off to sleep, comforted by the presence of at least one of her boys being home.

Despite his own exhaustion after an impromptu flight and the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours, Oliver found it difficult to fall assleep. He waited until her soft breathing indicated she was in a deep slumber before carefully disentangling himself from her arms and legs.

Ensuring she was covered with the blanket, he tiptoed to the kitchen, where he leaned with his forearms against the cool marble tiles of the island as he unlocked his phone and texted Noah.

Oliver: Still up?

Noah: Yep. Can’t sleep.

Without a second thought, he dialed his number, making sure to keep his voice low as to avoid waking her up. By the time he had filled a glass with water, Noah’s voice was on his ear.

“What’s up? Is she feeling any better?” Noah asked.

“She’s passed out on the sofa,” Oliver informed him after taking a sip. “But she looks tired, and sad,” he continued, glancing towards the open hallway door that lead to the living room, as if he could see her. He could picture her gloomy features from before she’d fallen asleep. “How about you coming back earlier? Could you make it?” He asked, aware of the significant distance separating them. Noah was in Europe, not just a few states away. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you could make it, give her a surprise, cheer her up… She doesn’t just need me. She needs both of us. And,” he made a pause before changing his tone, “you owe me a blowjob.”

“I don’t owe you a blowjob,” Noah replied, his voice rising slightly. “You didn’t send those tacos, man.”

“I’ll drive you to the damn restaurant.”

“Needy, huh?”

“Very. I want to see you before I hit the road again,” he admitted, then softened again. “She needs you here, Noah. Think you can make it earlier than scheduled?”

“Yeah, yeah…” he trailed off, as if preoccupied with something else. Oliver heard the clicking of a keyboard, muffled in the background. “I was actually just checking flights…”

“Oh, good.”

“The first one is in three hours. I could catch that one and—”

“In three hours?” Oliver exclaimed, furrowing his brow. “Dude, get some sleep first. I didn’t mean for you to—”

“I can’t sleep knowing she’s upset because of what her mom said to her,” Noah retorted, setting his MacBook aside and getting up from the bed. “We have a couple of interviews scheduled for tomorrow, but I’ll ask Jolly and Folio to handle them. I’m nearly done with my packing, so I can head to the airport in less than twenty minutes. If I catch that flight, I can make it home tomorrow before evening.”

“Fuck. Okay. That’s great. It’ll give us a few hours together.”

“Yeah, just come pick me up at the airport, all right?” he concluded. “Keep her distracted with something. Tell her you’re going to get a haircut.”

“Dude, she’s going to be glued to me the whole time because I’m leaving tomorrow night. And a haircut? That would be the lamest excuse after I left my own tour to be home with her. You have the worst ideas,” he complained as he shook his head. “Can you not get an Uber?”

“Just come pick me up,” Noah said, resolute, “and you’ll get that damn blowjob.”

An hour and a half later, her voice calling out for Oliver echoed through the walls of the house’s ground floor.

Oliver appeared at the threshold of the archway into the living room, holding a tray with pastries and two mugs of hot chocolate.

She blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes with one hand still half-covered by the fluffy blanket. Oliver struggled to decide if she looked adorable or too tempting to resist making love to her right there on the sofa.

“Am I dreaming?” She mumbled, prompting Oliver to let out a chuckle.

“Nah,” he replied, walking towards her. “These croissants were frozen. I thought Noah got rid of them after his lecture on how unhealthy and useless it is to buy frozen food, but surprise: he didn’t. So now I get to treat you,” he finished, setting the tray next to her. The smell of freshly baked croissants and hot chocolate filled her senses, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

She gave him a tiny smile.

“Just don’t tell him I baked them for us,” Oliver added, his tone hushed, as if Noah was there and could hear them. He had changed into more comfortable clothes and was now wearing a white t-shirt and dark grey sweatpants she had washed and ironed more than two weeks ago.

“I will tell him,” she whispered, with a hint of mischief in her voice. Her sleepy face, however, made her look more adorable than mischievous.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “He’ll make me wear the maid costume and cook homemade sugar-free croissants for him as punishment.”

“You look adorable in that, though,” she commented, grabbing one of the croissants and using her other hand to catch the crumbs.

“Do I, now?”

She nodded, her mouth already stuffed with a big bite. Oliver smiled and touched the corner of her lower lip, wiping away a crumb with his thumb.

“Feeling any better?”

Swallowing, she nodded.

“What do you feel like doing?” he asked, still concerned. He had dropped everything to be home with her, so he would only do as she pleased. “Movie and cuddles?” he guessed. “We can take it easy and spend the rest of the day snuggled in here. We don’t have to go anywhere. We’ll order takeout for dinner, then maybe a hot bath before bed.”

She absorbed his words, blinking and chewing slowly.

That sounded like… Heaven.

Instead of quickly agreeing to his appeal, which was irresistible, she asked, “What time do you have to be at the airport tomorrow?” There was a note of anguish in her voice because she dreaded the answer. She just wanted him to stay for a while longer, to extend that dreamlike weekend that was, in fact, her real life.

“Not ‘til late at night. We have the entire day together tomorrow, don’t worry,” he reassured her again, taking his mug of hot chocolate to his lips. She watched as the dark brown liquid touched his lips and how his own tongue licked them clean afterward. “Let’s choose a movie and get comfy, yeah?”

The next fifteen minutes slipped away as they struggled to decide on a movie. By the time they settled on one neither had seen, the croissants were gone and Oliver had finished his chocolate. They cuddled through the entire film, occasionally shifting positions, playing with each other’s hair, and kissing. They made comments about the movie and chatted about he film and other trivial things.

By the time the sun began to set on the horizon, the house was enveloped in the serenity their nearly routine evening. She was in the living room, tidying up the small mess they had made, folding blankets, and arranging the cushions on the sofa. Meanwhile, Oliver busied himself in the kitchen, plating the takeaway food that had arrived just minutes before.

If Noah had been there, he would have been nearing his time out in the studio. Then he would’ve joined oliver in the kitchen to set the table.

That was a familiar routine, which happened at least once a week, usually on Fridays, marking the start of a long weekend where work was left behind and their time was fully devoted to each other.

Whenever the three of them were engrossed in individual tasks, especially in the afternoon or evening, the house exuded a peaceful ambiance. Sometimes, Noah would light incense and play relaxing background music as they went about their activities. If they crossed paths in the hallway or in any other room, Noah would grab her waist and pull her in for a kiss. If he encountered Oliver, she would hear a sweet exchange of words and laughs between them from the other room.

It was lovely, what they had built. A precious home and a beautiful family.

After filling their stomachs and clearing up the kitchen, Oliver urged her upstairs for a well-deserved hot bath, but she declined, stating that she prefered the shower.

As mesmerizing as the idea of a hot bath sounded, the reality was that, despite their efforts to get a larger-than-average tub for the master bedroom’s bathroom, Oliver was too tall to fit comfortably if she was also inside. What to say about Noah? He just outright hated bathtubs and found it a waste of space. It wasn’t that he couldn’t fit in with either of them; he simply couldn’t fit comfortably on his own.

After some persuasion, she finally found herself naked under the hot shower, with Oliver’s bare body behind her, his hands massaging shampoo into her hair. The intimacy of the moment was heightened by the familiarity of the shampoo the three of them shared.

They took turns washing each other, making sure to apply a bit of pressure here and there to relieve sore muscles, especially Oliver’s, strained from days of performing on stage for over two hours and getting to bed late. The physical demands of his routine weren’t always ideal, but she appreciated how they had toned his body over the years, giving him strenght and stamina. She relished his manly physique, a mix of rough and soft areas that she found squishy. She just loved every part of him.

When he got down on one knee to soap up her thighs, she took the opportunity to wash his hair, enjoying the sweetness that spread through her veins and to her heart when he pressed a few kisses from her navel down to her lower belly.

After they were thoroughly washed, Oliver rinsed his hair under the water one last time, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, lips parted, neck exposed and muscles on display as he moved his hair back with both hands.

As attractive as the sight was —which, under other circumstances, would have just gotten her on her knees, and not exactly to wash his thighs—, the part of her that craved a deeper connection took control. She wanted a closeness that went beyond the physical act of giving each other pleasure.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her cheek to his chest, acutely aware of the ticking clock and the precious time slipping away from them.

Oliver didn’t say anything. He kept the water running and hugged her back, resting his chin atop her head. The mirror above the sink and the window overlooking the garden had fogged up, and the vapor was filling the room even though they had left the door open.

Minutes passed, the water turning cold, droplets hitting the tiles, her breaths soft and steady, following the rhythm of Oliver’s heartbeat. When she lazily ran her fingers down his back and wandered down to one of his buttocks, she felt him shiver slightly, and her curse nearly disrupted their peace.

“You’re cold,” she pointed out, peering up at him.

“It’s okay, love.”

But it wasn’t. Taking his hand, she turned off the water and pulled them out of the shower, handing Oliver his towel while she grabbed hers.

Oliver wasn’t done soothing her. He let her dry herself up and brush her hair. He left the bathroom for a couple of minutes to get some underwear, finding another one of Noah’s boxers in his drawer. Instead of pointing it out to her and reminding her that the boxers with the chibi drawings of Titan were Noah’s, he laughed and opted to keep them there. He would enjoy watching Noah huff and rummage through his own underwear looking for those specific boxers when he returned.

Returning to the bathroom only wearing black boxers, his wair still wet and dripping, he used the towel to dry it a bit before discarding it on the floor and refocusing his attention on his girl. She was occupied checking her eyebrows in the mirror, a habit he found amusing because he could never understand what she thought was wrong with them. Taking advantage of her distraction, he poured some hydrating lotion into his palm, rubbed his hands together, and kneeled to spread the cream on her thighs.

She let out a cry of surprise at the sudden cold sensation, but quickly adjusted to it and found herself enamored with the way he looked up at her as he massaged her body once more, tenderly applying lotion to her skin. The smell of lavender filled the room as he stood up to gently smooth it onto her shoulders, his hands moving in slow, soothing circles. She was truly getting spoiled as his touch traced the contours of her arms and back, each caress a silent promise of his love and devotion. She closed her eyes when she felt threathened by another wave of emotion and gratitude. She wouldn’t be hard on herself again and say that she didn’t deserve him, or Noah, but the truth was that they were too good to her, and her heart kept on swelling every time they shared a simple yet intimate moment as such.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her cheeks red—perhaps from shyness or perhaps because it was too hot in the bathroom.

“Shh. I love pampering you, and that’s why I’m here now. In two weeks I’ll be back to busy boyfri—fiancé, sorry, mode, with no time to shower with his loves because the artist’s life is a twenty-four hour job. So, rejoice,” he finished the sentence by touching her nose and leaving a stain of cream for her to spread.

She muttered an “ouch” and glared at him, nearly pouting at the truth of his words.

While that had been an isolated scenario and the timing of both bands’ tours had coincided leaving her alone for quite a long period of time, she couldn’t really complain about her job or about her life in the big picture. She was as happy as any girl could be with two men loving her unconditionally day and night, which made her aware that if somedays they were not attentive as she wished, it wasn’t because they chose to be distant. It was their demanding jobs, so different from her mundane one. Their careers sometimes took a toll on them, but it was a sacrifice they made for something they loved, and she admired them for it. They were passionate and dedicated, as they were with her, too. She would never ask them to prioritize her over their bands because they themselves knew when to put a stop to it and get their feet back on solid ground. It was sometimes a difficult balance to navigate, but with each other’s help, they knew how to make it work without letting it consume them anymore.

Her eyes followed Oliver as he walked barefoot to the other side of the bedroom, heading towards the drawer where he would find his worn-out clothes for sleeping. She watched with a tender expression as a smile appeared on his face when he spotted how neatly his t-shirts and sweats were stored in the drawer. As mundane and tedious as the task of folding clothes may seem, it was something both of them enjoyed doing together every once in a while—seated on the carpeted floor, picking up each item from the laundry basket and adding it to one of the three piles next to them: Oliver’s, Noah’s, and hers.

Folding clothes was sort of a meditation, and given that she had spent the last weekends alone, one of them had been dedicated to reorganizing the cupboards and drawers, including refolding all those clothes that had been thrown to the back of the cupboard.

She could have stared at Oliver for hours, but the clock would still keep ticking.

Licking her lips and rubbed the heel of her left foot on her right calf, her expression fell a little as she called out to him.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Make love to me?”

Her voice came out as a whisper, a plea that he didn’t understand, for she didn’t have to ask for that. Ever. So he nearly laughed, but aware that maybe it wasn’t the best reaction, he dropped back into the drawer the clothes he had picked and walked to her, with determined strides, his green eyes focused on her as if nothing could make him look away.

“Did you even consider I wouldn’t intend to?”

Uncertainty clouded her eyes, but her hand released the corner of the towel she had secured atop her chest, letting the only fabric covering her body fall to the floor.

Oliver’s gaze fell to her breasts, and then down below, as if he hadn’t seen that same beautiful body, those edges and curves, merely five minutes ago.

She parted her lips to speak, to ask him to touch her, but Oliver was quicker. He picked her up in his arms, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist. She stared down at him for a few seconds, struck by the light those green eyes contained, how much power to turn someone’s life into something beautiful with just one look.

Oliver carried her to bed. He laid her down on the mattress, her head propped up on the numerous pillows that Noah, ever the minimalist, didn’t understand. In a matter of seconds, Oliver discarded his boxers and crawled up to cover her body with his. Holding his weight on hands and knees, he bent his head down and kissed her, her hand sneaking up to the back of his head and tangling in his curls, still damp from the shower and with the lingering scent of the shampoo.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, wet. She kept pulling him down to her, as if she could do more than just kiss him; as if she could just drink him in, swallow him, keep him in her heart forever.

He already was.

His hand pushed at one of her knees, silently instructing her to open her legs for him. When she complied, he touched her folds, his fingers navigating her delights just for a couple of seconds before sinking two fingers inside of her, letting her wrap around his digits with welcoming warmth.

Her hips arched towards him.

“What do you want, love? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you,” he murmured.

“Just you,” she sighed, knowing that he would always keep his promises.

Skipping foreplay, he removed his fingers from inside of her and sat back on his heels, asking her for a condom that she retrieved from one of the drawers on the other side of the bed. He put it on, then spat on his hand and covered her core with his saliva before leaning over her again, fusing his body with hers, one inch at a time.

He loved how her breath caught in her throat with every movement, every push in. Her eyes widened and her expression contorted into one of pleasure.

When he was finally settled in to the hilt, he sought her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers before placing their hands above her head, on the pillows.

He began to move. A delicate, sweet and hot cadence.

He understood that this time it was not just about pleasure; it was about the connection that having their bodies merged brought to each other. It was about finding peace and safety in the vulnerable state of offering yourself to the other, about the relief that it brought to her —and him— knowing they had found each other in this massive universe and that nothing else mattered at the time.

Just him, her, and the ghost of Noah, the lingering scent of him that still permeated his side of the bed, on the sheets that she had refused to change after they had left.

They kissed. Oliver swallowed her moans, relished in the way her nails dug onto his back, the way her thighs pressed him to her, the way she breathed him in and held him, wordlessly telling him she would never let him go.

Making love like that focused on the fire of their sexual energy, their passion, and desire, and let those align with their hearts and souls with every thrust and every cry in response. It brought them balance and harmony. It was something beyond the drive and rush experienced any other time, yet someething they needed all the same.

That night, she needed that, the slow pace, the eye-contact, and he didn’t mind. How could he? He was benefiting from it all the same.

Ever since Noah introduced them to this slower, more mindful practice, Oliver’s connection with both of them had deepened, and it had brought him closer to them (if that was even possible).

Lost in the passage of time, Oliver whimpered against her, his breaths ragged as he penetrated her over and over and as he looked down at her expression, her eyes closed because she was getting close, her mouth agape in pure bliss, little sweet and honeyed sounds coming out in waves, music to his ears.

A few thrusts grew harder and rougher unintentionally, and she moaned loudly, trying to supress a scream by biting onto his arms, right onto the inked angel of death that adorned his skin. One of his hands cupped her breast, squeezing and rolling her nipple between two fingers, giving her just the touch she needed. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, but his voice reached her ears as he told her he was about to come and needed to feel her climaxing around him, too.

The seconds that followed were intense, but not very loud. He spasmed inside of her at the same time that she arched to him, their hips meeting. They rode each other’s orgasms, and the mattress welcomed the dead weight of their exhausted and sated bodies a while after.

The bliss that came after that moment gave way to a heavy, contented silence filled with the heady and comforting fragance of sex.

Oliver’s body pressed down on her, just a tad sweaty, but she found her sanctuary in his embrace, only imperfect due to the missing weight pressing on her from the other side.

“Thank you,” she whispered after she removed some hair from her face and brushed her lips against Oliver’s stubbled chin. Her thighs trembled a little after she let them fall on the mattress, on either side of Oliver’s legs.

“Always,” he replied, tickling her cheek with his wild strands of hair and tracing a path of kisses down her jaw and neck until he could taste her nipple in his mouth. A moment later, he was back at her mouth, his large hand cupping her cheek, his words seeking reassurance of her well-being.

She sighed for what felt a long time. Her fingers, in the meantime, weaved into his damp hair, holding him close. The weight of his body on hers felt grounding, a reminder that he was there, real and solid. His presence and the feeling of him filler her, from the spot between her legs to her heart and soul, was a balm to her frayed nerves, soothing away the remnants of her ealier distress.

But still. Something was missing. Someone.

“I’m still upset,” she admitted after a breather from his kiss. She didn’t want to say it right after they made love, but she knew Oliver would understand. That’s what that entire day had been about: her understanding that he would listen, try to comprehend, and never ever diminish fer feelings and emotions.

“Why?” he asked. Their voices mere whispers in the night, in a room that also seemed to miss Noah’s presence. “Is it because I have to leave? Doll, Noah will be here in no time.”

“I know… I’m so happy that you’re here, that you came for me…” Her eyes had wandered down, slightly conflicted at her complaint. “But I want you both,” she confessed, loking back up at him. It wasn’t much of a confession because he already knew that. That had actually been the truth that had got them three together in the first place, the confession to Noah that had urged him to find Oliver and propose to him to share the girl of their dreams in the middle of a tour in the UK.

“I miss him, too,” Oliver reminded her, palming her hair, his cock still inside of her. He wouldn’t leave the warmth of her body until she asked him to. Missing Noah was one of the things he hated the most in their relationship. Sometimes they spent months without seeing each other. Oliver would come home and Noah would have left the day before, keeping them on opposite schedules. That was why last year, Oliver had tried to get Bad Omens to play in the same summer festivals as Bring Me The Horizon, so that at least they could be together after their performances and while traveling from one country to another, sparing the enormous pain of coming back home to realize the other wasn’t there yet.

It felt relieveing to share that feeling with her. It felt like missing him together took some of the weight off their shoulders. They would lean on each other and wait until Noah was back. Luckily for her —and for him— Noah was now on a flight on his way home, and unbeknownst to her, she would have both his boys home tomorrow, all devoted and willing to kiss the same ground she walked on.

“You know what I miss the most about him, actually?” Oliver started to say, his tone a bit more earning and cheerful as he rested his body weight on his elbows and as his fingers moved to reach her ears and start to play with her earrings.

“What?”

“That annoying habit of his of touching my legs with his bare feet under the blanket.”

Her laugh filled his heart with such relief that he couldn’t even put it into words. He had felt so anguished when Jack called him the day before. All he could think about was how she must have been coping alone after meeting her mother to tell her about the wedding. As Jack spoke to him on the phone, Oliver recalled that night after Jack and Sylvie’s engagement party. Noah and he had tried to make love to her to keep her racing thoughts away from the disastrous first meeting with the woman who would be their mother-in-law, but she had been totally restrained by her anxiety and so upset that they hadn’t been able to calm her down for two days.

He didn’t want her to feel like that again, and he knew her state would be even worse now since they weren’t there with her. That’s when he grabbed his phone, wallet, and passport, and headed to the airport.

“You know he does that on purpose, right?” she told him, remembering all the times she had been pissed at their antics on either side of the bed. She often found herself squished between their two bodies as Oliver kicked Noah to keep his naked feet away from his calves and Noah pretended to be half asleep while trying to touch him again. In the meantime, she was getting knocked from both sides, suffering Oliver’s kicks and the brush of Noah’s cold feet against her own. “He loves it when you squirm under the sheets.”

“Of course I know,” oliver admitted. “I’m going to make him pay for it one of these days.”

“I’d love to see that.”

Wriggling underneath him, Oliver understood she was getting uncomfortable.

He got up only to remove the condom and clean them up a bit, then tucked them both under the covers, letting her find her safety cocoon not on his chest or in the crook of his neck, but on his bicep, which she often mentioned could be used as a pillow. She found exceptional comfort in resting her head against the angel of death tattooed on his arm, his bicep big enough to offer the perfect-sized spot for her to drift into the realm of dreams.

The only thing missing was Noah’s arm around her stomach as she lay on her side, keeping her protected from all the evil in the world as he reached over to grab onto Oliver as well, his palm finding his place on Oliver’s hip.

They would keep their bodies connected and fall into a peaceful sleep, as if enchanted by a magic they couldn’t see but that was always there, always present in their love for each other.

CHAPTER 3: THE CROW WITCH - COMING SOON

#into the abyss of bad habits #oliver sykes x reader #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bmth #bring me the horizon #oliver sykes x noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #oliver sykes fic #noah sebastian fanfic #oliver sykes fanfic

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shepherds-of-haven · 7 months

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Had a dream about it so I need to ask, how would like a ski or snowboard or general mountain retreat trip go for the shepherds?

This sounds like such a fun dream! ⛷️

Blade: he'd be mildly interested in giving snowboarding a try, though he'd probably have his "fill" after a day: while he's athletically gifted and can take up pretty much any sport decently well, he actually tends to find most of them boring (unless his competitive spirit is fired up) and would probably find trudging up and down slopes tedious! By Day 2 he'd probably just be fine staying indoors by a fire with a book... partially because he'd be sick of Chase trying to cling to the back of his ski jacket so Blade could drag him places like a sled horse ৻(≧ᗜ≦৻)

Trouble: he'd be up at sunrise ready to shred some fresh powder, and you'd have to drag him home long after dark!! He's crushing those slopes and having so much fun doing it!! He's Shaun White at the X Games babey!!! He's like an Alaskan Husky you can't get to come indoors, people will be like "TROUBLE it's time to EAT" and he'll be looking at you with snow in his hair like "just one more slope!! :D"

Tallys: no. she hates the cold, she either wouldn't have come on this trip at all, or she'd be inside with several fleece blankets on her lap and a stack of books all day! Maybe if the resort offers any sleigh rides or something of the sort, she'd venture out, but actively spending time in the snow is a special kind of misery for her! She'd probably be most interested in the resort's spa! (Do ski resorts have those?)

Shery: she's keeping Tallys company by the fire with a nice cup of tea in the morning and a hot cocoa in the afternoon! Maybe she'll venture outside to do some snow activities like building a snowman or going on a walk, but if she tries to ski or snowboard, she will likely break her neck :') If there are Christmas markets or nearby towns nearby, the two of them are doing something like that instead!

Riel: he's in his room or by the lobby fireplace, working. You couldn't compel him to strap a pair of planks to his feet under threat of death... Not only is the risk of injury too high, it just looks ridiculous!!! Perhaps he will indulge in a hot toddy or glass of wine...

Chase: he'd have a bit of fun snowboarding or skiing for a few hours, but eventually the novelty would wear off and he'd be more interested in spending time in the hot tub (and any ensuing hijinks that might result therein) and prodding everyone to meet up in one of the rooms for a party/card games/inevitable night of drinking

Red: he'd have fun skiing with everyone during the day, but he'd most look forward to curling up by the fire in the evening with a stack of good books and just relaxing! Unfortunately, Chase probably won't let him get away with that for long... He'd look very erudite and sophisticated though, I'm picturing him in a nice sweater or a scarf with a pair of reading glasses or something! 😂

Ayla: she's right up there with Trouble, she'd definitely be a ski bum and would spend all of her available time on the slopes, and then unwind in a hot tub after! The two of them would probably get into increasingly more dangerous competitions in which they raced to complete the black diamond slopes in as fast a time as possible... would probably insist on staying out late to complete "just one more course" and would probably end up getting stuck on the ski lift when it shut down after sunset. By the time the others figured out they were missing, they'd be easy to find because of the sounds of the furious arguing somewhere overhead...

Briony: she'd try snowboarding, but she probably wouldn't be very graceful at it and would just keep falling over, constantly forgetting her feet were strapped down and trying to "walk" instead of slide! Eventually she'd probably give up and join Tallys and Shery at the nearby market or would be more focused on taking pictures of everything/everyone or setting up a bonfire to gaze at the stars than actively learning how to snowboard or ski!

Lavinet: she's an excellent skier (it would probably go Halek -> Lavinet -> Trouble - Ayla) as a result of having been instructed when she was young, but she'd have little interest in it after an hour or so. She's booked up her whole weekend with treatments at the spa!

Halek: he grew up in the mountains (even in a modern AU), so I imagine snowboarding/skiing was as commonplace to him as breathing. Everyone would be so surprised to find him just zooming past them wordlessly on the slopes, like Trouble and Ayla are just like "HAHAH EAT MY SHORTS TRUBS YOU'RE NEVER GONNA--"

*white Halek-shaped blur races past*

I feel like you'd find him doing something random like ice-fishing at some point, too!

#Shepherds of Haven #modern AU #snowboard #snowboarding #ski resort #ski #skiing #winter

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bcolfanfic · 2 months

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~ person a and person b staying up so late to talk to each other without even paying attention to the time. and then they fall asleep on the phone with each other ~

this on “mutual crush prompt list” but was wondering if we could change it up a little bit for angst purposes and make it so its the first work trip buck has to take months after bucky’s suicide attempt so they’re on the phone all night.

my babiess. for new-to-me folks, this is based off my young veterans modern au- specifially this fic.

---

John unlocked his phone, relocked and unlocked it again, squinting at the brightness before he swiped up to lower it.

10:50

He'd talked to Gale four hours ago and they'd said their goodnights then. It was even later in New York- almost one in the morning to be exact.

Gale was probably asleep or getting close to it, and John didn't want to call him. Wanted to let him rest before he had to go be in academic mode all day, wanted to prove to himself just as much as his husband that he could get through a night alone.

But the longer he laid in the dark the itchier he felt.

There was something in a flask under the mattress that would take the itch away without waking Gale- the only thing keeping him from it being how tired he was down to the bone. Too tired to lift the mattress.

He swiped open to Gale's contact and pressed the small phone icon, sucking in the right side of his cheek.

It barley rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey hon," He said softly, and if he hadn't been asleep he sounded like he was getting pretty close to it. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm." John said, letting his cheek back out with a small exhale. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Don't be. But you know I gotta ask again. You okay?"

Gale Gale Gale. Ever the perceptive one.

"Don't wanna make you feel guilty for going." He said quietly, eyes fixated on a thread coming loose in their comforter. He hated that he could feel his eyes starting to sting. Being vulnerable was still, as his therapist referred to it a skill there was room for progress on.

Whether he knew somewhere in his head that Gale needed no prompting to feel hesitant about going to this conference was irrelevant. John had practically had to push him through the automatic doors of the airport terminal when he'd dropped him off, but guilt clawed at him anyways.

"Hey- no." Gale said on the other end, and John could hear him sitting up a little. "Not gonna do that, so tell me what's going on?"

"Just miss you." He said. "I'm not feeling bad y'know?" He continued, opting for a euphuism- not wanting to say the words that'd be needed to spell it out exactly out loud. "Just weird being alone I guess. I dunno."

It was quiet for a moment, like it always got when Gale figured he might have more to say when he actually did.

"Think you might be able to get some sleep if I stay on the line till you're out?" He said finally, so tender for someone who had to be up in just about five hours that it made John's chest tight.

"Don't have to do that." John replied, predicting the protest he got before it left Gale's mouth.

"Yeah, well I want to- so let me? Can bore you to sleep with physics gibberish."

A small, tired, laugh escaped John at that as he rolled back down onto his stomach, resting his phone on Gale's side of the bed. "'kay," He said, voice half muffled by his pillow. "I'm all ears."

Gale kept to his promise in regard to the psychics talk, and even when it was saying a whole lot of things that he'd still struggle to understand fully awake, his voice made John's chest warm. Made his shoulders feel like they could actually relax, the itch shedding off just enough for him to let sleep pull him under.

#young vets au #buck x bucky #clegan #masters of the air

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sunshine-and-christmas-caryls · 11 days

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So, I’ve been thinking about some of the plot holes from season 4, and a little of the ones from the series as a whole. And I’ve come up with a few headcanons that help my brain make sense of some things, without actually contradicting (I hope!) something stated in the final season.

Those headcanons rely heavily on the fact that there was a lot not explicitly stated, plus creative license and the “resets” though. 😂 Spoilers below for anyone that is also interested in brainstorming ideas!

Sorting out the timeline:

So after the Kugleblitz, my headcanon is it reset towards middle of April 2018, (for no reason other than it makes the timeline make a little more sense to me). Lila was roughly 1 month pregnant by then, which would have Grace be born somewhere around December 17 +/- a week tops (birthday parties aren’t always on the same day, but for my headcanon, her birthday is the 17th).

That would make her 6th birthday party occur late morning or midday on the 17th of December of 2024 (which is a Tuesday). I’m working with the assumption that Grace is in one of those school districts where they have 1 month off for summer break in June, 1 month off for winter break between December and January, two weeks off for Fall break around October and two weeks off for spring break in March.

Because it seems like the keepers meeting, Viktor’s rescue, and the spiked sake all happened that same day (based on clothing & assuming Lila and Five changed clothes for the keepers meeting, then back into what they were wearing earlier that day).

Then the next day outside the laundromat Diego mentions it’s Wednesday (which would be the 18th). The drive to New Grumpson has to be at minimum 17 hours one way (the road trip had a 1-hour and 3-hour time skip before Luthor mentioned that there were only 13 hours left to New Grumpson). But it was likely longer than that, because I don’t know how long it takes to get from the laundromat onto the highway that the overhead shot of Wanda establishes (it could be as quick as 10 minutes or up to 2+ hours depending on if they’re in the city or the suburbs, how populated it is, and how bad the traffic is at the time they leave) and I don’t know how long a stop they would need to get and cover the broken windows and -assumedly- clean the vomit out of the car floor.

Then they drive overnight and get into New Grumpson on December 19th, and after escaping they’re at the repair shop for Wanda at 3 pm, assumedly that same day.

In episode 4 Jennifer mentions that she and Ben met roughly 36 hours ago, and it was bright out. When Ben rescued her in episode 3 it was dark out. Also in ep. 3, Reginald mentioned that it could take “hours, or even days” to get the mind machine up and running.

So, I take that to mean that everyone back at the Hargreeves mansion probably met up the night of the 20th to talk to Reginald and Abigail. Then maybe they stayed overnight, (and had their clothes laundered + a shower!😆) whilst Reginald prepped the machine. Also on the 21st, Klaus is kidnapped sometime midday or afternoon, and Ben rescued Jennifer in the evening.

The machine is ready and run the morning of the 22nd, Ben and Jennifer have their conversation, and then they arrive at Jean and Gene’s farm and find all the damage Ben left. Episode 4 ends with Viktor and Reginald in the diner, Klaus buried at night, and Ben and Jen in the motel; so episode 5 would take place on the 23rd.

Five and Lila could have left the night of the 22nd and returned midday/ in the afternoon of the 23rd. But I headcanon that they left the morning of the 23rd, because Five mentions it’s only been a few hours since they left (I’m pretending the scenes are just shown out of order so they didn’t just have the focus on Five and Lila for half an hour straight). I’m also taking creative license to say that for whatever the reason Diego either doesn’t have a suit, or his suit didn’t fit him and that’s why he borrows one from Luther’s coworker.

Then the rest of the season finishes out by the end of the night on the 23rd. (I’m thinking they were all at Lila’s house for dinner after the craziness of the past few days, and when Diego said “Not during Christmas” he meant it in the general sense of being close to Christmas time, not that it actually was that day). The reset from the cleanse brought us to where the timeline was supposed to be, which was when the show aired on August 8, 2024.

Summary Timeline:

-Lila 1 month pregnant when the reset occurs.

-April 2018: Hotel Oblivion reset

-December 17, 2018: Grace born

-December 17, 2024: Grace birthday party

-December 18: drive to New Grumpson

-Dec 19, late morning- midday: arrive in New Grumpson

-Dec 19 at 3pm: Wanda is getting repaired

-Dec 20: family meets up at the Hargreeves mansion.

-Dec 21: Klaus kidnapped, Ben rescues Jennifer in the evening.

-Dec 22: Memories are restored and the group finds the attacked alpaca farm

-Dec 23: Lila & Five return, Ben & Jen merge, and the Cleanse resets the universe

[It could also work if the Oblivion reset to April of 2019, but the drive to New Grumpson would have needed to take two days (for them to arrive on the 19th) or you go with the assumption that New Grumpson is a small town and they put the flier up sometime before the 19th in order to garner attention, and all the subsequent dates get pushed back by one (arrive on the 18th, Cleanse on the 22, etc).]

So that’s my headcanon to make sense of the timeline. It’s far from perfect, not least of which because their clothes don’t change much and I play fast and loose with a lot of the details, but it’s the best I’ve got to make it make sense. 😂

A few other head canons I have:

- Jen is from a different timeline and she got pulled into this one & accidentally appeared in a giant squid. Reginald erased her memories of anything related to the cleanse shortly after her squid introduction scene.

- The subway was made from the creator of the universe, but various Fives helped to make certain parts (like the deli or the Commission) and the map & notebook which they left for other Fives. It’s out of space/ time and each stop is a reflection of the timeline (old & broke down = apocalypse already happened, or the severity of the apocalypse). It’s got openings naturally (think season 3 when Reginald spots the door) throughout all the universes, which is why small animals, objects, etc occasionally make it into the subway system. But Five’s power is what momentarily summons the nice little entryway into the subway.

- The Oblivion reset took the closest matching timeline and then pulled in people/ things that were customized by Reginald (& Allison’s requests). This is based off Klaus saying Allison “set up this whole timeline, and stole her daughter from another one” in the deleted scene of him at Grace’s birthday party.

- Allison had requested her brothers all got to stay family and that she could have both Claire and Ray. That’s why Reginald had set Luthor’s death to be undone & he appears with everyone at the closing scene in season 3.

- Claire was from a different, but nearly identical timeline as the one set up by the reset, which is why she looks or actually is older. (In season 1 she was only 4 years old, right? So she should be about 9/10, but in season 4 she looks like she’s somewhere between 13-15)

- Ray is not the same one she was in the 60s with; he was born and grew up in a more modern era and as such his personality is different than it was. OR he is the same one from the 60s but he’s been pulled into this new timeline and is struggling to reconcile the Allison he knew in 60s with the one she is in the modern era and all she has done. One of those is the underlying basis for why he left, and I also headcanon he was Claire’s stepfather.

- Reginald’s customization points included Abigail being alive, and the marigold never being released. Allison killed him before he “pressed go” so to speak, but he had already input all/ most of the settings, so either his death was reset to fit into the timeline and he’s Sparrow Reginald, or the timeline was built off a universe that he didn’t release the marigold and it pulled that Reginald into this timeline.

- The 43 immaculate births would all have happened naturally in their own time (different birthdays). The moms all were kissed at the time of inhalation of the marigold that caused their conception, and the marigold gave life to them by taking DNA from both people to form the body of the babies and accelerate their births.

- Sparrow Ben stayed because Allison asked for Ben to be alive and the universe reset just kept Sparrow Ben to meet that criteria. Sloane was not specifically asked to stay together by Reginald or Allison so she ends up the same way other “immaculate births” kids did and was born into a family normally, which is why, if she had been found, she wouldn’t remember any of the umbrellas or sparrows.

- The Hotel Oblivion reset also erased/altered memories that people had in order to fit into this timeline, which is why there’s so many keepers. Additionally, it either accelerated or worsened the different universes bleeding into each other. It also input a “background” for all the Umbrellas which is why they all had homes/ IDs/ etc. (They could then choose to keep with what they had or switch from there.)

- Five’s background included making him older then he physically was so that he didn’t have to go through high school, or he wasn’t “aged up on paper” but took a GED and went straight to college before getting into the CIA.

- Lila’s family was from a different timeline and have mixed memories like some of the keepers. She and Diego end up talking to them closer to the five or six year mark about everything. And that’s why the ask so many questions to Klaus in the deleted scene.

- Lila wasn’t formally working with the CIA. She found out about & went undercover with the keepers of her own accord and was only “working with the CIA” once she and Five started to collaborate. OR she was formally working with them, but under a different sector that wasn’t headed by a keeper.

- The first year after the Oblivion reset, all the siblings were in the same general vicinity of each other and they all met up again at least once to talk with this world’s Reginald about what happened, which is why they knew their births were a product of the marigold, what the marigold even looks like, who they are in this universe, etc. Also, because Allison asked that her family all be in this universe, maybe they were all adopted by Reginald in this timeline too but are “estranged” from their father. And Abigail find out later that these were alternate versions which is why she never met them before this season but knew them? Or she was newly appeared in this timeline too and Reginald just filled her in on the details.

- little girl on the bike = creator/ God

- Abigail had died but was brought back because of the reset. Whilst dead she spoke to the creator/ little girl who told her about the cleanse.

- The Marigold creates, the Durango destroys, and when mixed together it does both, hence “resetting” the universe. They also react somewhat to intention, but are like a computer program or a genie/ jinn. You technically get what you ask for, but it’s not how you wanted it or it’s not quite what you thought it would be, and that’s why none of them were truly happy at the start of season 4. And it’s also why their moms got pregnant and they just regained (if slightly differently) their powers.

- The ending meant one of the following:

- 1) The cleanse really did fix everything and so the universe was reset to what the timeline should have been, which is our world as we know it. The idyllic field with everyone was heaven/ the void/ wherever it’s called that Klaus goes to, and the siblings plus Lila were reduced down to marigold flowers from the effort of the reset. Which is why the kids were able to exist without a kugelblitz forming, and why we see so many people from the original or previous timelines (they would all have already been dead without the marigold in the world).

- 2) the cleanse, did not in fact, fix everything, perhaps because it missed the guy Klaus splashed with the shot he never took. So it erased our umbrella academy and their kids, but we see the kids from the naturally born versions of themselves had they been born & the marigold hadn’t existed. But because it didn’t fix everything the remnants of their marigold resprouted as marigold flowers, leaving room for them to come back in the future or for new super-powered kids/ people to emerge.

So while there’s a ton of holes still, that’s what I came up with to make sense of some things that weren’t really explained in the final season. I’m curious to know what other might have come up with though, if any one wants to let me know what they think/ headcanon!

#tua season 4 spoilers #tua headcanons #making the TUA timeline make sense #TUA theories #TUA canon compliant theories #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy season 4 spoilers and theories #TUA spoilers #tua season 4

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i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 1 year

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Wandering In The Woods~ Tighnari x Gn!Reader

A/N~ To the person who requested this, I somehow managed to lose the request, I vaguely remembered it. I'm so sorry if it's horrible.

Sumarry~ Tighanari is wandering in the woods when Collei comes across you unconscious.

During the late hours of the afternoon, Tighnari was packing up the site and trying to look for Collei. She had ventured off to try and find some things that he needed back at the shop. But why hadn't she returned? Archons, maybe she got lost? Or got hurt? Tighnari gave up playing the guessing game and went out to take a look.

As he got a little deeper in the Forrest, he started to hear a small little voice calling out for help. *Collei* he thought. Quickly he rushed towards the sound, and he was right it was Collei but there also seemed to be another person.

"Master Tighnari! I found this person, I don't know how to help them!"

The person still had a pulse and seemed to be breathing, maybe they had just tripped?

"It's alright Collei, they should be okay. You did good."

She nodded her head. Tighnari picked up the unconscious person and placed them on his back. He'd done this a few times, many people got injured in the forest near his shop. Finally the trio reached the site, and Tighnari placed down his patient on the makeshift bed. He had to admit they were a little cute.

Soon enough they woke up and the night had fallen. You sat up, slowly you adjusted to your surroundings, the canopy of trees above you, the soft bed beneath you, the slight breeze and how dark it was.

"Oh good, you awake." Tighnari had a little smile on his face. "My assistant, found you unconscious somewhere in the woods."

Still you couldn't figure out how to form words. Maybe it would come back?

"Are you alright?"

Instead of speaking you nodded.

"Alright, we should probably head back now. Are you okay to come back with me?"

Again you did the same action as before. Most of the camp was already packed up, all that was left was to start walking. Tighnari still wanted to keep and eye on you, you still seemed a bit out of it. At first you were hesitant to stay with him, but eventually agreed due to your current condition.

When arriving back to his shop, he told you he lived upstairs. Collei was already asleep in her room, and quietly snoring.

"Also, I only have my bed, you can take that."

"Oh no it's fine, you take it." It was the first time you'd spoken to him this evening.

You both finally agreed on you taking the bed because of your condition. But during the night the mattress seemed to sink under someone else's weight.

"Tighnari?" Your slightly croaky voice spoke

"Oh Archons you're still awake. Sorry it got a little chilly."

"Its alright it's your bed anyway."

Somehow during the night, you two became entangled, and both of you woke up in a blushing mess. Especially after Tighnari accidentally kissed you good morning on the head.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin #tighnari x reader #tighanri #tighnari genshin #I am so sorry to person who requested this #gn reader #genshin fluff #fluff

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rose-of-the-grave · 11 months

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Two Can Share

Pairing: Gwyn x Azriel

Hey! I hope you like this. I'm the author(please don't repost)

Masterlist. Read on Ao3

Warnings: kissing, mating bond, getting together, drinking

Word Count: 2,775

Description: After having a little too much to drink Gwyn accidentally stumbles into the wrong room.

Gwyn stumbled through the hallway to her room, drunk giggles echoing from the room she had just left. Tripping over thin air, she reached an arm out to steady herself against the wall. She tried to keep walking but ended up kicking something solid. Cursing, she shook her foot. Trying to dislodge the pain. She had run into the stairs. Hesitantly she took a shaky step. Then another. And another. She kept on climbing the stairs, pausing whenever she felt dizzy. Which was nearly every step.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she made it to the top. And was faced with what seemed to be an endless hallway. She couldn’t focus enough to even see the end of the hallway.

She walked, or more aptly stumbled down the hallway. She counted the doors on her right. Or wait, on her left. Normally she slept in the dormitories with the other priestesses but Nesta had offered her a permanent room to stay in.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

There it was. Or wait, was it seven doors down? Oh, who cares. It’s not like any of the rooms were occupied. Emerie and Nesta were still downstairs drinking. Cassian was in the capital and Az was on a mission.

Right. Azriel. He’d been gone for weeks. All she knew was that he was in Vallahan gathering information for the High Lord. She missed him so much. She missed their late night practice sessions, she missed talking with him, she missed spending time with him. Every night when she couldn’t sleep she had been going to the practice ring and had gone through the same motions he had been teaching her before he left. The stars glittering above her, the moon illuminating her surroundings so didn’t trip. She missed him.

She missed his smile, and although he rarely did it, his laugh. She missed the way his eyes would light up whenever she got something right. She missed how at ease she was when she was with him. Over the last few months they had become friends. And maybe, just maybe, they were on their way to becoming something more. She needed to see him. She loved him.

No. Those thoughts were what had prompted her to indulge so much tonight. What she needed was sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Maybe in the morning she’d feel better prepared to take on her traitorous thoughts.

Twisting the handle to her room, she entered her room. There in the middle of it was a bed. A great big bed that looked so welcoming and cozy. Without changing she plopped down on the bed, face down. Reaching up she grabbed and hugged her pillow. Turning over onto her side, she promptly fell asleep.

The minute Gwyn opened the door, he had awoken. Not because his shadows had warned him, the little traitors, but because he had been having difficulty sleeping. In his exhausted state he hadn’t been able to speak. He watched as she fell face down on his bed, readjusted, and then fell asleep. Careful not to wake the sleeping figure, he slid out of bed. He pulled on some clothes.

Sighing, he dragged a hand down his face. Walking over to the chair in the corner of his bedroom he picked up the book he had been reading earlier. Placing a pair of glasses that had been enchanted to allow him to see in the dark on his face, he opened the book to where he had stopped.

He read for a few hours until his vision started to blur and he regretted not finding somewhere else to sleep. Determined to be more alert he put the book down and stood up. His muscles groaned at him.

Walking to the kitchen he made some coffee and a scone that had been made yesterday. Nuala and Cerridwen had probably made them. He bit into it, swallowing it down with the bitter taste of the coffee.

When he got back to his room Gwyn had sprawled across the massive bed. Her red hair was the only indication of where her head was underneath the blankets. By this point rays of golden light were peaking over the mountains in the distance, illuminating Velaris. Pale light streamed through the windows of Azriel's room. The light brought out the strands of gold in Gwyn’s hair, it looked like golden flames, licking against his sheets. If anyone had asked him his opinion on fire it would have been decidedly negative but any comparison of Gwyn’s hair to flames seemed to ignite a warmth in his heart.

His love for the priestess had not been a lightning strike, stunning him into silence. It had been a slow realization that had crept up on him over the last few months of spending more and more time together. At first they had bumped into each other when neither could sleep but after it became obvious that their insomnia was not going away, he had suggested they train at night. It would allow him to teach her his more specific skill set and gave him the opportunity to take his mind off of the previous few months, particularly Solstice.

Over time their late night training sessions became the best part of his day, the part he looked forward to the most.

Just as his love had grown for Gwyn, so too had his hesitancy to tell her how he felt. This wasn’t the first time he had been in love, or at least thought himself in love and look how that had turned out. He had been obsessed with Mor for centuries and it took him just that long to admit what he had long known. She didn’t see him like that. It had hurt at first, but the signs had all been there, he had simply ignored them.

After meeting his High Lady’s older sisters, he had also found someone new. Elain, the middle sister, was everything kind and gentle and it had been difficult to believe himself worthy of her. It had been only right that she be his mate. Her younger sister and her older sister were both mated to his brothers. Three brothers for three sisters. But like Mor, he was just ignoring all signs to the contrary. When the youngest Vanserra had said those fateful words in Hybern it had hurt but it also felt like everything clicked.

How could Elain be his mate? He wasn’t worthy of her and he never could be.

That night when they kissed and then Rhys had stopped them had only been about attraction. If he was being honest, when his brother and High Lord had told him to stay away from Elain his issue hadn’t been that he didn’t want to stay away from Elain so much as it had been that it had been Rhys telling him to. It had felt like a confirmation of his own darkest thoughts. That he wasn’t good enough.

In the months following everything had been so busy that he hadn’t had time to really think about that night. Then, like a ray of light in the darkness, came Gwyn. They had already been friends for a while at that point but things had changed between them. When he started training her their friendship deepened to the point where he realized that his infatuations with Mor and Elain had been just that. Infatuation.

There were times he supposed when he thought that there might be something more between him and Gwyn. Almost as if he was being drawn to her by something not quite of this world. He didn’t dare to hope that it was the mating bond. It was probably just his imagination.

“What are you thinking about with that intense look on your face?” Gwyn’s words were enough to shock him out of his thoughts.

He had been looking out into the distance, unfocused, but now all of his attention was on the veritable goddess who lay in his bed, wrapped in sheets. Her auburn hair created the impression of a halo above her angelic face. Her eyes met his and he smiled. She returned for a split second before she groaned.

“Ow! My head.” He chuckled. “It’s not funny!”

“No, it’s not.” He assured her, still smirking.

“Quiet. Please. Too loud.”

Lowering his voice a bit, he said, “I’ll get you some water.”

“No. Coffee.”

“Sure. I’ll be back soon.” He made to leave when the sound of a mug appearing on the bedside table reached his ears. Looking back, he saw Gwyn sipping what appeared to be coffee from a blue mug that he distinctly recalled being down in the kitchen last he checked. It looked as if Nesta hadn’t been lying when she said that the House was sentient.

“Why are you in my room?” She asked, blowing the steam rising from the mug nestled between her hands.

“I think you mean what are you doing in my room.”

“What?”

“This is my room.”

Looking around the room Gwyn saw that it was indeed his room. All of a sudden last night came back to her in a flash. Drinking with Nesta and Emerie. Leaving to go to her room. Stumbling into bed. Drunk Gwyn could have easily miscounted the rooms. But she could have just as easily been trying to do what Sober Gwyn desperately wanted to.

At least Az didn’t think anything of it. He just found her predicament amusing. How would he react if she told him that what she wanted most, enough that her subconscious was meddling, was him? She wasn’t blind. She had seen him with her friend’s younger sister. Nesta herself had mentioned it in passing about the two of them.

Pushing the blankets off of herself, she stood up. Still holding her coffee she walked towards the door. Towards him. He walked with her, opening the door.

She turned to look at him with a soft smile.

“Thanks for letting me stay here. It was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks.” Then, without giving herself time to think, she stretched up onto the tips of her toes and brushed her lips gently against his cheek before walking through the door. She left him there stunned. Lifting a hand to his cheek, he let his fingertips graze the very spot where her soft lips had kissed him.

He stood there, rooted to the spot, amazed.

Before he could even come up with a plan for what to say he ran out of his room and down the hall, chasing Gwyn.

At the sound of his rushed steps she turned around to face him.

“What…?” Before she could finish what she was going to say he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

He poured every emotion, every feeling of longing that he’d ever felt for her into that kiss. Her smile flashing before his eyes. He didn’t care that he probably didn’t deserve her. He loved her and he was going to tell her in the only way he could without having a way out if things went south. At least if she rejected his kiss he could pretend it never happened. He didn’t quite think he could if he voiced how he felt for her and then she rejected him.

But then, something magical happened. She kissed him back! He smiled into the kiss causing them to break apart. Gazing intently into her eyes he leaned in to kiss her cheek before walking away. Her hand somehow entwined with his pulled him back.

Smiling at her he knew that they would need to talk later.

“Kiss me.”

Fuck that, later can wait.

She leaned in and this time her hands crept up into his hair pulling him down. He met her kiss with equally as much passion and need. All too aware of their surroundings thanks to his shadows he pulled away once more and led her into a room that just happened to be a library. It was a small, cozy room with a few shelves of books, a comfortable looking couch, and a fireplace that warmed up the room deliciously.

He walked them backwards towards the couch, his lips never leaving hers except to come up for air. They tumbled back onto the couch, giggling like a pair of horny teenagers. In that moment he needed to tell her.

Pulling away to look in her lovely face, he smiled at her low whine. Taking her face in his hands he said those three little words that he had never said to anyone before. He might have wanted to but he had never screwed up enough courage to. She made him feel like he could be brave.

“I love you.”

Her eyes flashed with some unknown emotion.

He hoped this wasn’t a mistake.

“You don’t have to say that.” She said, not meeting his gaze.

Lifting her chin with his hand, he said, “I mean it.” He wanted her to believe him. He wanted her to feel just how much his love for her had consumed him. “I love you with all my heart. With every breath I take, with every beat of my heart. I love you.”

She smiled softly. “I love you too.”

Then leaning up she kissed him, slowly and sweetly. Taking one of his hands in hers she placed it on her hip. Deepening the kiss, she bit his lip. Growling, he took control twisting them so he was above her, careful not to put his full weight on her.

“Is this okay?”

Instead of responding she simply drew him even closer.

They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t even notice the time until Rhys spoke into Azriel’s mind.

Where are you? You’re already five minutes late.

He shot back a quick, be there in a minute. Before pulling away from Gwyn, regrettably.

“I’m supposed to be in a meeting with Rhys right now.”

She frowned but urged him, “Go. Don’t keep him waiting longer. I have to get back to the library soon anyway.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“Can I see you after?”

“Sure. I should be finished in time for our usual late night training sessions. I can meet you in the training ring?”

Not wanting to push her he simply nodded instead of asking if she wanted to meet him here instead where they could maybe talk instead of practice.

“Or,” she continued, playing with a strand of her hair instead of looking at him. “I could meet you in your room and we could talk?”

His heart warmed at her words. “Of course.” Getting up from the couch, he walked over to the door and was about to leave when he looked back at her. “I’ll see you then.” His voice, full of promise.

--------------------------------------------------

After sorting through books and reshelving for what had felt like hours Gwyn was finally free to go. Walking along the hallway to Az’s room she couldn’t help but grin. He loved her.

The door opened the instant she went to knock.

He smiled at her, opening the door wider so she could come in. The door hadn’t even closed full before she was back in his arms kissing him. Walking together, they fell on his bed. After kissing for a while, she pulled away to catch her breath. Her eyes met his and that’s when she saw it. He looked at her in awe, lifting a hand to her cheek, cupping it almost reverently. A thread of gold streamed between them, binding their two hearts together. It didn’t feel surprising, it felt like she had always known. In an instant she saw every interaction between them in a whole different light. Every time she had felt inexplicably drawn to him now made sense. Her entire world had been spinning but now it had snapped into focus.

Was this how it felt for his brothers? He wondered. He was overwhelmed with his love for her. It was the most amazing feeling in the world to realize that Gwyn was his mate. He was destined to be with the person who he was in love with. No more heartache, no more wishing for a mate. He had never felt luckier.

Breaking the silence he asked, “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yes, but only if you actually sleep in the bed tonight.”

He blushed.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“And I’m grateful but from now on, the two of us can share. That is, if you want to.”

“I would love to.”

“Then it’s settled.”

#gwynriel #acomaf #acotar #acowar #acosf #acofas #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #rose of the grave #azriel and gwyn #gwyn berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth berdara #gwyn acosf #gwyn x azriel #pro gwynriel #gwynriel fic #gwynriel fanfiction

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syn4k · 2 years

Text

Evil Xisuma is fascinated by lizards.

There's some in the Nether, of course, bejewled in crimson and golden and black, but those types usually hide out near the lava pools, and EX isn't fireproof, not by a long shot. They tried to catch one once, but they burnt their hands and got told off gently by X when they came home and the lizard escaped. There's some in the trees, but they're venomous and lightning fast.

The ones in the Overworld are much friendlier, so whenever they can, they walk over there and find a mangrove swamp far out, where the Overworld lizards like to hide. They're skittish, but EX has found that if you're gentle, they'll let you hold them.

Why lizards and not like, frogs or something? They don't know. They just think they're neat.

One evening, EX found themself in a particularly foggy swamp, grumbling as they picked their way through sprawling tree roots and mud that pulled at their boots much like the soul sand did. They were getting lost. They didn't care. This server had respawn enabled, anyways. But as they trod deeper and deeper in, something felt a little... off.

"Where are these lizards?" they grumbled, loudly enough to get the attention of a nearby breeze, which ruffled the leaves. Wait.

You can't be noticed by the wind.

"Hello?" they asked, looking up.

Somewhere to the front and right of them and very much on the ground, a twig snapped. A light came out of the fog, and a figure wearing a very broad hat walked into view.

"I'm telling you, Joel," they sighed, "you can't be in here. Especially not after dark. It's dangerous, the ghosts might- who are you?" They stopped and leaned closer, confusion clear on their face.

"If you're asking for a name, I won't give it," said EX. "They're powerful things."

"Fair enough," shrugged the stranger. "There have been some weird things happening around here lately. I'm the swamp witch. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for lizards," said EX.

"In full body armor?"

"My lungs are shit. I have to wear this. Also, it's comfortable."

"Oh, so you're the swearing type," said the stranger with a frown. "Okay."

EX sighed. "I've never met you in my life, but you've already managed to sound exactly like my brother."

"Your brother??"

"Yes, my brother. People have them, idiot. I'm not giving my name away but I'll sure as hell give you his- Xisuma. I could pr-"

"Wait, wait, hold on," said the stranger, cutting them off with a wave of their hand. "Xisuma?"

"Weird name, I know."

"No, I mean I've met him. I never knew he had a brother."

"Sibling," corrected EX. "Also, what?"

"My bad," said the witch. They sighed. "Listen, whatever, I don't know how you got here, but you should probably go. There's some dangerous stuff in here, especially at night." They looked around warily as if to prove their point.

EX laughed. "You're tripping if you think that I'm scared of your stupid swamp. It's just a slightly damp forest. What could possibly live in here that I would be scared of?"

On cue, the wind picked up. The stranger looked around frantically. "You need to go." A bunch of blue lights appeared at the edges of the lamplight. "Now."

The wind blew a myriad of leaves into EX's face and they stumbled backwards as the yellow light receded rapidly, tripping over a tree root just as one of the blue lights came into focus. The last thing they thought before their head hit the ground was that it sorta looked like a face.

When they sat up, it was morning. The fog was gone. They looked around to see where it went, but there was none.

"Weird," they said.

Three unread messages from Worm Boy.

Dude, where are you? It's getting late.

EX? I'm going to bed now but please message me if you see this.

Just woke up. If you don't respond by lunchtime, I'm calling Xisuma.

"Hey. Sorry. I fell asleep while lizard hunting," they typed, then sent it with a sigh. What a mess.

A small blue wisp floated up where they had stepped as they walked out of the forest.

#mcyt #hc x esmp #hermitcraft #evil xisuma #shelbygrace #ray's tag #writing #hi giys

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theking-mustdie · 28 days

Text

Cramped

pairing: background Scott McCall x Isaac Lahey

warnings: claustrophobia, panic attacks, mentions of feeling nauseous, PTSD, child abuse, mentioned scratching at own skin

a/n: i am on a mission to bring back claustrophobic isaac. this is my first work ever im open to constructive criticism!! ooc? maybe? i have no idea.

word count: 2,040

Isaac has coasted through his time in the pack without his claustrophobia, or its symptoms, being discussed at all. To be fair, there was hardly a lull in monsters-of-the-week to ever walk up to someone like Scott or Stiles and randomly throw out: ‘Hey! Did you know that my father locking me in a freezer in our basement did irreversible and unspeakable damage to my mental and physical health?’ So he wouldn’t say he minded the lack of communication. He preferred no one pry into his weaknesses or his business that they had no interest in knowing about.

However, there were some times where his panic was simply unavoidable.

From experience, Isaac consciously made sure to avoid his claustrophobia getting the best of him, usually stood next to exits or windows in any room he’s in. He’s not too fond of the unknown.

So when Scott suggested taking a day-trip somewhere after the insane, durach-filled month they had, Isaac reveled in the idea of a break and eagerly agreed.

“Where do you want to go?” Scott asked Isaac one afternoon, spread out on the couch.

“I haven’t exactly ventured outside of Beacon Hills so I wouldn’t even begin to know where to go,” Isaac replied from the other couch, half-asleep. With no threat looming overhead, Isaac hadn’t been as distracted, meaning that his nightmares had come back full force. He tried to keep himself awake to avoid the flashbacks he’d rather forget, but it was only delaying the inevitable. He’d rather not have indulged anyone else with his issues because it’s his burden to bear, and he’s almost positive that Scott couldn’t care less about his personal problems when he had a whole town to protect.

“We could always borrow Roscoe and drive down to the beach. I could use some time outside,” Scott replied after a beat, thinking.

“How far away is the beach?” Isaac asked, unfamiliar with any nearby beaches.

“Um probably about an hour and a half?” Scott guessed.

“That’s fine with me, but don’t expect me to go splashing around in the water like a dog.” Isaac crossed his arms and glanced over to Scott.

Scott laughed, rolled his eyes, and said “we’ll leave tomorrow morning” definitively.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

That night Isaac was able to catch thirty minutes of sleep until he was plagued with images of bleeding nails, metal chains, and impeding darkness before he startled awake. He decided it was a lost cause and tiptoed downstairs to grab himself a glass of water as he tried not to disturb Scott or Melissa. He returned to the McCall guest bedroom and settled on chipping away at his mountain of late work for school.

The night prior Isaac and Scott agreed on leaving at nine o’clock in the morning, so as the clock struck eight Isaac packed up his school work, hopped in the shower, and threw on some athletic shorts that could pass as swim trunks. As he left his room to head to the kitchen and find breakfast, Scott stepped out into the hallway and gave Isaac a small smile in greeting.

If Isaac’s gaze lingered on Scott’s bare chest, no one was there to witness it.

They both ate breakfast while talking about their plans for the day. Scott wanted float in the ocean and relax while Isaac wanted nothing more than to lay on the sand and read whatever crappy books the McCall’s had tucked away in their guest bedroom bookshelf. He needed a good distraction.

As they gathered the needed towels, sunscreen, and other beach items, Isaac began packing Stiles’ jeep that he had left outside Scott’s house the night before. But not without an intimidating threat of death if anything were to happen to it.

After a heated argument about who should get the aux, Scott was playing his music and they were off.

Isaac loved scenic car rides. He loved looking at the trees, houses, people, and anything that caught his eye. He leaned his head against the window and silently tried to fight sleep but eventually dozed off with the roaring of the engine and the rocking of the car acting as a lullaby.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Isaac slowly regained consciousness, unaware of his surroundings nor how long he had been out for. The first thing he had registered when he woke up was the car right in front of them. He tried to put the confusing, weird feeling that washed over him aside and turned to ask Scott how long he had been asleep.

"About half an hour. We were driving pretty smoothly until we hit the morning rush." he answered. He spared a glance at Isaac and saw the confused look adorning his face. "What's wrong, dude?"

Isaac whipped his head up to look at Scott and offered him a tight smile. "Nothing, just a little tired. I'm fine."

Isaac knew Scott could tell he was lying, but dropped in favor of looking at the road.

As he got a hold of his bearings, Isaac realized that they were sitting in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic. He tried to discreetly glance behind the Jeep, to the left, to the right, and ahead without alerting Scott, but a feeling of panic rose in his chest. There was maybe five feet of space between Stiles' car and others at all times.

Isaac began to understand what was wrong with him.

His heart started beating faster and his breathing started to quicken. He attempted to focus on anything else, the radio, the honking in the distance, even Scott, but nothing was working. His anxiety began to rise, and with it, the desperation to get the hell out of the car and off the highway.

Scott let out a frustrated groan, unaware of what was happening in the seat next to him. "We're stuck in here. The people ahead of us won't move," he said, his hand came down on the top of the steering wheel to emphasize his point. Scott turned to look at Isaac and saw that he was slumped over in his seat. Isaac yanked at his seatbelt with one hand, fully shifted, and clawed at the door of the Jeep with the other.

He was officially freaking out.

His exhaustion, bottled up emotions, and PTSD were all fighting a losing battle in his head. Usually simple things like traffic wouldn't set him into a panic attack, but it seemed all forces were working against him. His seatbelt felt like it was suffocating him, the walls of the Jeep were smaller than he remembered, and his werewolf senses were dialed up to ten.

Isaac stopped clawing at the door and frantically looked around the car to find anything that could help put him at ease, but came up short. The cars that surrounded the Jeep started getting closer and closer and Isaac started to use his free hand to claw at his chest, willing his heart and lungs to slow down.

However, before he could do any real damage, he felt his wrist being yanked away from his skin. More terror coursed through him at the confining grip until he realized that it was Scott holding him. His eyes found Scott's and Isaac let out a small, barely audible whimper.

Scott, however, heard it and jumped to do something to help Isaac. They wouldn't get anywhere if they stayed on the highway where Scott had to split his attention between Isaac and the road, so Scott shifted his hand to hold Isaac's as he moved to pull off the closest exit. In about five minutes, they were parked in the nearest diner and the driver's side door was thrown open.

Isaac's state had not improved in those five minutes. He was in dizzying state between reality and that damn freezer. His surroundings were disorienting and he couldn't make out what was real and what his panic-ridden brain was feeding to him. The only thing he could feel was the cold hand that once held Scott's.

He distantly heard the sound of the passenger door being thrown open and his seatbelt unbuckled. Suddenly, someone's hands were on his face as they said his name over and over again.

Isaac's brain cleared enough to register that Scott kneeled in front of him, hands on his cheeks, and repeated his name in hopes of garnering his attention.

Isaac locked eyes with Scott. Before Scott could acknowledge what was happening, Isaac threw himself out of the car and ran to the middle of the deserted parking lot. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the bile creeping up his throat to return from where it came. The next time he opened his eyes he took a deep, albeit stuttered, breath and looked around. The only person he could see was Scott and the closest object to him was at least fifty feet away.

He collapsed on the concrete and spread his arms and legs out as far as they went. Scott slowly made his way to Isaac, sitting on the ground next to him, but allowing him space.

The pair sat in silence for a while, the seconds ticking by as Isaac closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths.

Isaac was the first one to break the silence and turned his head towards Scott.

"I used to be in that freezer until I no longer knew what day it was." Isaac closed his eyes and took another steadying breath. "It didn't matter what I did, because to him, I always deserved it. I thought that by becoming a werewolf all these stupid feelings in me would have stopped. It only made it worse." Isaac talked slowly as he came to terms with his situation alongside Scott. "I don't remember how it started, but I remember every single time. I remember the bandages I wore on my fingernails because I pried them all off at some point or another. I remember the hours convincing myself that I deserved every second I spent in that fucking freezer. I remember the sound of my Dad coming down the basement steps, praying that he was going to let me out before he turned around and went right back up the stairs. I remember him letting me out of that box and hugging me tight, convincing me that he loved me and only wanted the best for me. Sometimes it worked. Most of the time it worked. I didn't know how to run away. I didn't know how to leave because he was all I had. I stayed because I was scared he was all I'd ever have. I didn't want to take the chance that he was right. That I'd be nothing without him."

After Isaac's confession they sat in silence. Isaac eventually sat up to match Scott's position.

"I- I don't know what to say." Scott confessed.

"It's alright," Isaac reassured, "I thought you deserved an explanation in exchange for dealing with me," he breathed out.

"God, Isaac, you don't owe me anything. Why didn't you tell me about this earlier, I could have helped you!"

"It didn't matter earlier. What were you going to do, add my shit on top of the shit you already had to deal with?"

"Of course it matters that you're dealing with this! And alone?" Scott emphasized before taking a deep breath, "I'm not really good at giving words of wisdom, or any advice really, but I'm here, always. I know it sounds hollow, but I'm around whenever you need to talk or rant or, who knows, punch. You don't have to keep going through this alone. That's what a pack is for." Scott reached his hand over to the boy's and clasped it around Isaac's.

Isaac lifted his eyes to meet Scott's and squeezed the his hand in lieu of thanking him, not knowing if he had the capacity to talk yet.

"You hungry?" Scott asked after a while. He released Isaac's hand and got up off the cement, reaching his hand out to help the other boy up.

"Is this place even running?" Isaac asked disgusted, looking at the not-so-nice exterior of the run-down diner.

"Only one way to find out!" Scott shouted, already on his way inside.

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thecinematicwriter · 2 years

Text

Bae-cation

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: What more could you want than a good vacation with your driver boyfriend. The sun is hitting your skin and Charles'. This is perfect.

Sneek peak: "I have an idea Mr. Charles." You announced mockingly formal. "Yes Missus?"

A/N: Happy Valentines Day! I have been so excited to travel lately that my content probably reflects it so far. This is for all of you people who wish they could go on a vacation with a specific bae;)

*I did put some outfits that the reader wore, but I do not refer the reader to be the size of the person wearing it.*

This morning, you were woken up by soft kisses on your naked back and the sun hitting it too. Charles had been smooching you for what seemed to be the past 10 minutes. Yes, you were awake before now, but you decided to stay quiet and enjoy the affection your boyfriend was giving you. It was rare. Moments like these were reduced to none when it was racing season. Of course, Charles found ways to come see you when you nedded to work so you couldn't go to his races. But it wasn't the same. Here, it was like you had infinity to just lay down on the beach and relax. And when you went to sleep or woke up with him by your side, tiredness was not one to disturb you. The both of you could talk for hours at night without one falling suddenly asleep or you could wake up like this, with no rush to be somewhere else. "Breakfast?" Charles murmured on your skin. You nodded making an agreeing sound that your boyfriend found the cutest. "Let's get dressed." He got up and tapped your butt gently to prompt you up. You turned around and sat down on the comfortable bed. After a good stretching, you left the bed and went to get dressed while Charles took his shower. You prefered to take it after the long day beside the sea so your boyfriend could shower without the rush of you needing to take one right after him.

Once you both were dressed, you went down to the breakfast restaurant your resort offered. You took a picture for the man who worked at front of him and your boyfriend after convincing him it was really no trouble at all. After your perfect breakfast. You spent the entire day on the beach relaxing and kissing each other in the sea.

Your night was spent laughing at shows and movies while eating some quesedillas with sweet potato fries. A weird combo, yes. But if Charles was happy so were you. And this was just the beggining of the trip. There was one whole week left and looking beside you, where your boyfriend sat, your happiness couldn't be more high. He was truly the solution to all of your stress. And from his side of the blindingly white bed, he thought that maybe the girl that was sitting next to him was the one.

"Baby?" You called on your stomach, trying to tan. "Yes amour?" Your boyfriend always used that nickname and you loved it. "Could you maybe put some sunscreen on me? I don't want to burn and I can't do my back." You faked whine to emphasize your point, which made your boyfriend laugh at you. "Don't laugh at me. It's a real stuggle honestly." He laughed even more knowing how not serious you were being. Charles got up and put your sunscreen on without a word. He tried to be as quiet as possible so he could hear your cute noises of content when he sneakily slipped a massage to the task. "Was that alright, amour?" He gently got closer to your face and put a light kiss to your cheek. "More than alright, baby. You are truly the best." You turned around so you would face him who was now sitting on your chaise longue, along side you. "I have an idea Mr. Charles." You announced mockingly formal. "Yes Missus?" He reciprocated the goofiness. "We could order room service tonight instead of going to the hotel's restaurant. Then, we could binge watch everything we missed while we didn't have time? We might even have to pull an all nighter." You explained excited."I would love that. There's only one condition on my part though..." Your boyfriend was always one to make up rules. "Of course, my prince. Go on." You bowed and he laughed. "I chose the food and the first thing we watch." You audibly gasped and faked the most dramatic pout face out there. "Never mind, I want to go out tonight." You looked at the sky avoiding your boyfriend's eyes in a playful maner. "You little-" Charles cut himself out by tickling you. "Okay. Okay, Stop! I can't anymore. I surrender. I demand mercy!" You laughed so hard your ribs hurt. "Then, my suggestion it is. Thank you very much." He kissed your lips softly.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula 1 x y/n #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #valentines day #cl16 #cl16 x reader

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rosebloodcat · 4 months

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Weirn Wally AU: Lacking Lies

Ao3 Link

Wally felt an itch at the back of his neck.

Someone was watching him.

He had a fairly good idea of who it was too. In hindsight, he really should have expected it.

Canceling the picnic with Julie and Frank suddenly would have raised some confusion, even if "not feeling well" was a perfectly reasonable excuse. That shadow from two nights ago had been stronger than he was used to in the hamlet.

It had laid him out pretty well, he was still smarting from the shot it managed to land on his side.

He hadn't had the magic to spare to make himself look like a puppet and join them at the flower fields the next morning for the picnic. He hadn't even had the energy to leave the house. Claiming that he thought he’d caught a day cold of some kind should have been a perfectly reasonable excuse. Nothing that should have been given more than a second thought when they saw him out and about the next day.

So, Frank's unusually intense stare on his back was worrying.

Wally ran through his mental notes, still keeping part of his concentration on his disguise while meandering toward the bodega. (The last thing he needed was to lose his hold on that in the middle of town. Aching side or not.)

Had he slipped somewhere and Frank had seen something?

He had made sure to slip out long after dark. Dressed in clothes that didn't resemble his day-to-day wear. Got back before sunrise, wrapped up the few injuries he'd gotten while fighting, and grabbed enough sleep to drag himself out of bed to call Frank and Julie at a reasonable hour to avoid suspicion.

He had all his bases covered, from what he could remember. Why was Frank watching him so intently?

He let out a quiet huff. He was overthinking this.

Frank was probably just keeping an eye on him because he’d said he was sick. Wally would probably do the same thing if he heard one of his neighbors had suddenly fallen ill and canceled an event like that.

He gave his head a small shake to banish the worry, waving idly at Howdy as he stepped inside the bodega and headed for the store section he knew had what he was after. He’d made sure to read up on some new facts for this shopping trip, he really didn’t have a head for jokes today.

Assorted Vegetables, mustard seed, basil, garlic…

He looked up and the shelf Howdy had stocked the cooking oils on, fighting back a frown. Why did Howdy always have to stack it so high up? He knew how tall most of his clientele were…

(He wished, not for the first time, that he had picked a taller form for this world. But it was far too late to change it now. Small was what he’d gotten and he just had to live with it.)

He stretched up to grab the cooking oil he was after and winced at the way his side stretched. He let out a quiet, pained breath lowering his arm again. No, he couldn't reach for it with that arm. He tried to switch which arm was holding the basket, only for another twinge to shoot through his side.

Sharp footsteps made him tense as a presence appeared beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Frank's bright yellow sweater vest.

"I believe this was what you were after, Wally?"

The weirn blinked, registering the bottle of oil he'd been reaching for being presented to him. And the quirked unibrow of the cloudy grey puppet holding it.

“Ah… Thank you, Frank. That was the one I was reaching for.” Wally adopted one of his usual, relaxed-looking smiles and took the bottle from his neighbor, carefully dropping it into his basket. That was the last thing on his list. Frank hummed at him and he fought back the urge to squirm under his stare. “Is there something wrong, neighbor?”

“Not exactly,” Frank idly commented, tilting his head slightly. “Julie was rather disappointed about you not being able to make it to our picnic the other day. So, after your call, I suggested rescheduling it for when you were better. If you still want to join us, of course.”

Wally felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, and his smile became more natural. Yes, this felt more in line with what he was used to from Frank. And he did still want to enjoy the picnic with them both.

“Ah, that would be lovely. I felt very bad about not being able to join you, I’d be happy to help plan another.” He shifted slightly, the dull ache in his side making itself known again. “Perhaps next Wednesday would work for you both? I can make something special to bring with me, to make up for missing the last one.”

By then, my side will have healed up.

“Oh? I’m sure Julie would love that. You don’t share your cooking very often.” Wally inclined his head at that, still smiling. He slowly started making his way back to the front of the store, Frank following a pace or two behind him as they continued making small talk.

Their conversation paused as they reached the counter, Wally “paying” for his groceries with some art and painting facts he was reasonably sure Howdy had never heard before. The caterpillar accepted them at the very least, so he considered it a success.

He carefully took the bags from Howdy but was further surprised when Frank took some of them as well. He considered trying to take them from the dower man, but…

It seemed his painkillers were starting to wear off. Which made carrying so many bags on his own rather painful. And there really wasn't any harm in letting Frank help. So he quietly thanked the frowning puppet and led the way outside and to his house.

The walk was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable (that Wally could tell).

It was one of the things he’d always liked about Frank, even if it didn't happen very often. It was nice to just enjoy the quiet with someone on occasion.

“Wally?” Frank asked idly. The weirn let out an acknowledging hum, not feeling like breaking his own silence yet. “May I ask something of you?”

The edge of his mouth twitched at that. Oh, when was the last time he’d gotten to use this little joke?

“You have, but please continue.” He heard Frank let out a small huff.

(It wasn’t a good joke, he knew. But it usually got a few amused chuckles when he pulled it out.)

“Next time you have to cancel, please don't lie about why you can't join us,” Frank said, a tinge of irritation in his tone. Wally stopped dead in his tracks, turning sharply to face his neighbor.

“What… What do you mean by that, neighbor?” Frank's brow tilted at him, his expression thoroughly unimpressed.

“Wally, you canceled the picnic because you’ve hurt yourself,” was the dark-haired puppet’s response. His smile tightened at that.

“That’s silly, Frank. Why would you think-”

“Wally, you're limping.” Frank cut in with an exasperated sigh.

Now that it had been pointed out, Wally became hyper-aware of the state he was in.

Yes, he was in his usual clothes but he was favoring one side over the other as he moved (especially now that the medication was wearing off). And his clothes weren't as neat and clean as he usually preferred, the pompadour he always had his hair was messier than normal a few loose hairs falling into his line of sight. His eyes itched in the way that said he probably had some shadows under them, likely from the rough sleep due to his side before he’d had to drag himself out of bed to make the call…

Okay, now that Frank had said something he could see how easily his lie would have fallen apart once the detail-oriented puppet saw him. Everything would quickly add up to something being wrong.

(He wanted to smack himself, how had he missed this?! It was his own body, for pity’s sake!)

“Ah…” His smile turned a bit more sheepish while he mentally scrambled for a reasonable explanation that Frank would accept. What could he tell him that would make sense?

Frank sighed at him, seeming to not notice the subtle panic Wally was dealing with.

“Next time, just tell me the truth. I can understand that you don't want to worry Julie but I would appreciate a little more honesty from you.” He gave Wally another searching look and he struggled to not fidget. “How did you even hurt yourself in the first place? Were you trying to move furniture around by yourself?”

Wally latched onto the excuse the moment Frank said it.

“Uh, yes… I wanted to move my bookshelf. I thought I emptied it before I started trying to move it, but I missed a few books at the top and…”

“And they fell on you.” Frank finished, nodding along.

“Yes. I didn't want to worry anyone, so I didn't say anything about it. It’s a bit sore, but nothing really bad.” Wally assured, trying to sound more genuine than he knew he was being.

Frank sighed in that exasperated but somehow fond way he always did about his neighbors. The sort that said he wasn't mad at them, just disappointed that they hadn't thought something through.

(He used that sigh with Julie a lot. And Howdy. It was also distinctly different from the sigh he let out over things that Eddie did. Or the one he used for Poppy worrying over silly things.)

“Of course you did. Next time you should just ask for help, Wally. I'm sure Eddie or Barnaby or Howdy would have been happy to help if you’d asked. They’re certainly strong enough to move a bookshelf without too much trouble.” He side-eyed the small artist for a moment, and Wally fought back the urge to wriggle. “And they’re tall enough to see if any books had been missed.”

Wally smiled sheepishly at the look, even as the usual weight of discomfort settled in his stomach at having to lie to his neighbor. (It was a familiar feeling. One he’d gotten very good at ignoring over the years.)

“Well, I hope your side heals up soon. I'd imagine it's quite annoying.” Wally nodded at that. It certainly was.

The rest of their walk was spent in silence until they reached home and Frank handed off the bags he was carrying to Wally. He knew that Wally was particular about putting things away on his own, so there was no point in offering to help with it. The weirn gave a quiet thank you, after which Frank wrangled a promise to call if he needed anything while he was healing. Which Wally gave with little fuss.

(He wouldn't, he could handle himself just fine. But hearing Wally say that he would do that would settle the man’s nerves, so he still said it. (Not a true Promise, just an assurance that he would call in the future.))

The two finally parted ways with the click of a door, and Wally finally let out a breath of relief and let go of his spell once he was sure Frank was far enough to not see him.

He let himself slump against the front door for a moment, just breathing slowly.

A lamp nearby rattled and he felt the familiar ghostly feeling worryconcernquestion brushed against the edge of his mind.

“I'm fine, just sore from the medication wearing off. I need to take another dose soon.” He pushed off the door and slowly made his way to the kitchen to put away his groceries. He could take another potion once everything was in the correct cabinets. Doors opened of their own accord, his astral trying to make everything easier for him.

More feelings drifted over their bond, this time accompanied by a curious tug toward the front door. He inclined his head, smiling gently.

“Ah, it's nothing to worry about. Frank was helping because he noticed I was hurt. I forget how observant he is some days, he definitely thought something was up. I’ll need to be more careful around him for a bit.” He murmured gently, resting his hand against the wall comfortingly. He wished his astral could separate from the house so he could properly brush his hands over him, but the sun was up and their neighbors would notice if “Home” suddenly went still. “It shouldn’t be anything to worry over, I was able to assure him.”

A cupboard door thumped worriedly by his head, more flickers of questionconcernnervous flitting over the bond.

“No, Frank doesn't suspect anything about how I got hurt. He's just being kind and worrying over me. Like good friends do. Like all the people here do. Everything’s fine. I’m sure of it.”

~~~~~

Frank sighed to himself as he walked out of Home’s line of sight, shoulders slumping slightly.

Wally had lied again.

Really, he wasn’t as good at it as he seemed to think he was. Though, admittedly, he was hurting so that probably hadn’t helped him in coming up with a good story to feed Frank to fool him. He supposed it would work for Julie or Barnaby, as they rarely dealt with bookshelves or rearranging them and wouldn’t know that what Wally claimed wasn’t possible.

Some books fell on him, honestly.

He might have believed it if Wally had claimed Home had accidentally knocked something into him while trying to help, but not an accident from trying to move a bookshelf by himself. If that had been what happened, then the books would have fallen on Wally’s head or shoulders or his back, not his side. Not below his arm in a place that would be pulled every time he tried to move or carry things.

No, something else happened to hurt their resident artist. His eyes narrowed in thought, a hand rubbing at his chin.

The question was: What was it?

AN: I've finally finished the first bit of writing for the Weirn Wally AU!! I've had most of this for a while in my docs, but I figured now was as good a time as any to finally post it. I still wanna talk about this au and the fun little details I have on the brain. But it seems like I'm the only one who's interested in the Weirn Books.

I welcome all questions and comments.

#welcome home #wally darling #frank frankly #wh au #welcome home au #weirn wally au #witch wally au #rosies writing #rosies fanfics #astral home

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chanlixsbabygirl · 1 year

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Hits Different | Lee Felix

Pairing: f!reader x Lee Felix Word Count: 1.7k Warning(s): mentions of excessive drinking (please be safe)

Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by. It hits different. It hits different this time. Catastrophic blues, movin’ on was always easy for me to do. It hits different. It hits different ‘cause it’s you.

Boys came and went. That was something that never seemed to change. One came and another followed and they never stayed for long. Not that you really minded. It was like ice cream. Eating the same flavor every time got boring after a while. Sometimes they moved on first, sometimes you did. Sometimes you had to skip town and block a number. Sometimes your number never even got saved in their phone.

Until Felix.

You were out at a bar. You told your friends that if Felix texted, you weren’t going to answer. Accountability, you told yourself. It wasn’t until you were walking home that he crossed your mind again. It stopped you in the middle of the sidewalk and you nearly vomited. What if he was out tonight? What if he was taking some other girl home? You didn’t like the way your stomach churned at the thought.

Felix didn’t text you. You stayed up late staring at the messages he’d sent you recently. Why not tonight? He usually had this night of the week off. Maybe there was a boys’ night? You should stop thinking about it. It was going to make your head hurt more than the killer hangover would in the morning.

You went out the next night and drank a little too much a little too fast. It was maybe an hour before you started talking about Felix. The little ray of sunshine that was also a storm cloud. You’d only been out for a couple of hours when one of your friends put you in a cab and sent you home. You didn’t make it to bed. You were laying on the couch when you heard the knock. It was probably one of your friends making sure you were home and not dead in a trunk somewhere, right?

You wobbled to the door, feeling the effects of the alcohol. You were almost certain your drinks had been spiked when you opened the door and Felix was standing there, checking his phone. Yeah, like he was actually at the door. You were definitely drugged. This was just a bad (maybe not the worst) trip.

“Y/N.”

The low purr of his voice brought you back to the very real man standing at your door, watching you sway back and forth. His eyes were focused on your face, but he could very much tell how unsteady you were. Everything became very real when his warm hand pressed into the small of your back, leading you back to the couch you had stumbled away from to let him in.

“What have you done, Y/N? You should take better care of yourself.”

“They shouldn’t kill off the main guy…”

“You need to drink water; you aren’t making any sense.”

“In movies, they shouldn’t kill off the main guy. He leaves the girl blue when he’s gone.”

Felix pressed the water bottle into your hand, brows knitting together at the sentences falling from your lips. He wasn’t quite sure what you meant.

“The bar kept playing that song. The one you played in the car the first time we got dinner.”

He was trying to make sense of the random bits of information you were giving him, and it was not going well. He could tell that something was agitating you, but he didn’t know what it was. First it was killing off the main guys in movies and now it was a song he had played in the car once.

“Why are you here? Didn’t text me last night…”

“I seem to have heard that you told your friends at the bar last night that you wouldn’t answer, even if I did.”

“I…you weren’t there last night.”

“A friend texted me.”

“I almost threw up in the street last night.”

“You need to quit drinking-”

“Thinking about you with another girl.”

“So you were thinking about me?”

“Didn’t want you taking her home…”

“Who, love?”

“The girl.”

He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. You had convinced yourself of this non-existent girl he was taking home. He had been up half the night baking with Seungmin while Minho had tortured them and Jeongin with a horror movie.

“I wasn’t with a girl last night, love. Not tonight either. Just you.”

“I don’t fall in love. I never let them stay very long.”

“Really? Do you drunkenly ask for them until your friends send you home as well?”

“No. It’s different this time.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you.”

Felix sat there in the quiet, processing what you had said. Everyone always said you lost your inhibitions when you were drunk, but he wasn’t sure it didn’t make you say things you didn’t mean.

“That’s silly.”

“It’s different because it’s you. It might always be you.”

That was the last thing you said before you finally passed out. You were still in your clothes, and you were now half draped over him on the couch. He kept replaying your words in his head. It’s different because it’s you. It might always be you. Surely you were just drunk and weren’t thinking straight.

He felt your hands, and he thought you were awake. But your eyes were still closed, and your breathing was still the same. He let your sleeping hands touch his face and his hair, and finally wrap around his own. You were warm. So incredibly warm.

You started mumbling in your sleep, and he tried to decipher it. “Argumentative.” How you got that out while asleep and drunk, he didn’t know. But you weren’t wrong. The singular time you’d come to the dorms, you had gotten into a heated debate with Seungmin about what K-Drama was the best coming out at the time. “Antithetical.” Felix had to look that one up. He was curious why you knew it, let alone were saying it in your sleep. “Dream girl.” The antithetical clicked when dream girl followed. The opposite of a dream girl.

“You could never be an antithetical dream girl, love.”

He kissed your temple before finally drifting off to sleep. You were no longer draped over him when he woke up. In fact, you were nowhere to be seen. He looked around, bleary eyed. After a moment, he realized he could hear water running. You were in the shower. That was good. It would probably help with the killer hangover he was sure you’d be nursing.

You emerged from the bathroom in a swirl of steam, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, which were much more comfortable than the dress you had slept in. Felix’s hair was still messy from sleep, and his clothes wrinkled from the awkward position he’d slept in.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Morning.”

“Head hurt?”

“No shit.”

“I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You don’t-”

“I don’t have to. I want to.”

20 minutes later, there were pancakes sitting in front of you and Felix was still standing at the stove. You ate in silence, but the food definitely did help with the minor sense of nausea that had been present since you’d woken up strewn across him. He finally finished with the batter, sitting down next to you with the rest of the pancakes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Should I make a list? Getting drunk at a bar and one of your friends begging me to come see you. Telling me that you didn’t fall in love. Except it was different because it was me. Falling asleep draped across me on your couch. Calling yourself argumentative and an antithetical dream girl in your sleep.”

He could see your expression drop as he listed off the things the night before had let out. He was usually all for saving face and not hurting someone’s feelings, but he needed to know what was happening, and you were the only one who could answer that for him.

“Oh, and convincing yourself that I took a girl home the night before last and almost throwing up in the street over it.”

Your face burned at the details you very much had not intended to tell him, but apparently had in your heavily intoxicated state. Damn that stupid bar and your stupid imagination. You were so stuck on how mortified you were that you weren’t paying attention until Felix reached over to wipe a bit of butter from your lip. The touch sent you reeling.

“I…well, first, I expected you to text me the night before last. And I told my friends I wasn’t going to answer because I never let guys stay as long as I’ve let you. And then I was walking home, and it was too late for buses to come, but I had only had one drink, so I figured it would be fine. I wasn’t far from my apartment. And…and I couldn’t help but wonder if the reason you hadn’t texted was because you had gone out with some other girl and it made me feel sick thinking about it. And my friends were already planning to go out last night and I was supposed to go too and I…I drank more than I should. And they kept playing that song. All I could think about was you. And I guess someone sent me home and I didn’t make it to bed. Then you were there and I thought maybe someone had spiked my drink but you were here and…hell if I know what any of what I said when I was drunk meant.”

“Did you mean it when you said it was different this time. Because it was me?”

“I…I think I did. I’ve never worried about a guy finding someone else before. It’s always been easy to move on.”

“You’re not an antithetical dream girl.”

“What?”

“That’s what you called yourself in your sleep.”

“I can agree that you’re argumentative, but not an antithetical dream girl.”

“You had to come check on me when I was very drunk on a Saturday night. I don’t think that really screams dream girl.”

“I think about you in my dreams.”

“Those are nightmares.”

“What about my daydreams?”

“Daynightmares?”

“Never. Usually they end with me getting a kiss, and I certainly like that ending.”

#lee felix imagines #lee felix #skz felix #lee felix x reader #stray kids felix #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #lee felix stray kids #skz

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