#she kept apologizing for being a burden and I was like

[ikamigami]

I've given this some thought, the various points about trying to figure out Moon's behavior

One point is that potentially Moon's madness was caused by all the pressure to be better than Old Moon, with Solar being the exception in having no expectations, and then he died I can sort of get this but there's some problems with it, mainly that for one, being better than Old Moon isn't hard, its just not being an abusive jerk, and for a while he did it well and didn't have a problem with it, he seemed to enjoy being doting with his family and them returning the love by goofing off and having fun, being nice like that seemed like something he got a lot of satisfaction out of doing and it didn't seem like an act or a burden

Solar was an acceptation in that he had no expectations and Solar was very close with Moon, but Solar was also close with Lunar, who became friends with Solar first, and Solar encouraged Earth to advocate more for herself, Solar was special to most of the family, not just Moon, also notice how the one most frequently making the New-Old comparison after Sun got over that issue was Moon pinning it on himself

And maybe Monty a little since they were still missing their best friend and didn't bother as much making friends with New Moon, the negative comparisons between Old and New Moon started happening after Moon had spiraled far enough to where he was willing to verbally hurt them

Another could be the above pressure combined with the expectation to bring back Solar, or other expectations Earth and Lunar said it best in the most recent episode, because back then yes, everyone wanted Solar back, but as Earth said that might've been grief talking, as she and the others slowly came to terms with the idea that Solar wouldn't be coming back and the pressure was eased off, Moon was told he didn't have to

The only one really putting the heat on Moon was arguably Puppet, who showed up demanding him to fix it like "So what's YOUR plan? What are YOU going to do to fix this?", one could also argue Moon was putting the pressure on himself because he was struggling so much with grief, which is understandable, and again I'd like to point out at any point he could've opened up about that

Sun kept him from shattering bottles and took care of him when he broke down without question, and I bet he and Earth(not Lunar since he's too short) would've taken care of him when he cries a thousand times over to comfort him, and besides that, the expectation that he alone must fix everything was a complex he developed, where he was the one making comparisons to Old Moon, calling himself a failure, and his family told him he wasn't one

If he had asked them for help with figuring out how to bring back Solar imagine how much quicker Solar might've come back, or at least he wouldn't have driven himself mad trying to find a solution since they would've come to one faster

Another is Moon feeling like he can't open up to anyone about his problems or express his real emotions Again, there's more there, Earth created a space where Moon could talk about his deepest insecurities, about not matching up to Old Moon, and she told him he doesn't have to, he can just be himself, heck, when Moon confronted Sun on the problem where early on Sun couldn't distinguish New and Old Moon because of grief, he was listened to, Sun didn't try to gaslight or deny it like Old Moon would've and apologized, and after the falling out Earth helped the two come to a healthy understanding and that issue was resolved, Sun stopped comparing him to Old Moon and started connecting more with New Moon

Moon is capable of confronting his family on what is hurting him and they would've taken it and listened, Earth kept saying they would've helped him if he told them he was struggling at any point, he even told Monty to not tell anyone about his hallucinations even though if Earth, Lunar, and especially Sun were made aware of that they would've immediately dropped everything to help him, I could easily see how this arc could've gone better if Moon told them about this issue with expectations or even shouted at them for it, because his family actually does care enough that they would listen, and as I previously mentioned above he fully broke down in front of Sun and was immediately taken care of, Earth no doubt would've done that too if she was there, and Lunar would probably try his best

His family abandoned him after he made some mistakes His family didn't abandoned him even now, they've moreso been swept along this wild ride and have no idea what to do, right up until Eclipse tipped her off with the recording and then she confronted him and he dropped the pleasant face Earth had no doubts in her brother, she might've been worried but she had faith in him, they were so close, she let him be vulnerable and when everyone was struggling in the early days Earth regularly defended and advocated for Moon's position when it came to speaking with Sun

Imagine having that, and then you hear him say some worrying things and you go to ask him, not even accuse him necessarily, but ask, and he drops all of that love and kindness and becomes vicious and snarling and takes your darkest secret that you shared with him and uses it to hurt you, it would certainly stun me, it would stun most people, even if she was warned I doubt Sun or Earth would've expected him to go straight for the throat like that after how close they were, and she was going to forgive him for it, she made it clear that before he made the choice to kill her Moon had a chance to mend things, his family had not abandoned or disowned him, even after he burned her

When Monty suggested they cut ties with Moon neither Earth or Lunar actually agreed, Earth was hesitant, Lunar didn't acknowledge that as an option, and Sun would never, I will admit Lunar not talking to him and blowing it off is annoying, though what would he actually say to Moon? If Moon was already ready to throw "you're not a real therapist" at Earth and "you're Eclipse is showing" to Sun, he might've said something to Lunar to trigger his powers which Lunar can't risk right now with Tauros barreling towards the planet, and its going to be FUN to see how they handle Moon recklessly blasting people when the astrals pull up

Sun never even considered abandoning, killing, or changing Moon, considering all the trauma he's been through and how this just feels like a severe relapse into what it was before, how could anyone expect him to react rationally? Locking Moon in a cage was not smart or in-character I will admit that was very strange, but at the same time he knew Old Moon like the back of his hand, and with New Moon now exhibiting the same reckless drive towards a goal what can he do? Moon literally told him and Earth "You can't stop me" in a sort of "you are not smart enough or strong enough to stop me" kind of way, what is he to do? He told Puppet he refuses to make a choice on Moon's fate, his family did not abandoned him, they were completely shell-shocked by his sudden heel-turn and didn't know how to react, also I would like to point out Moon ending up in space was not something they agreed on, they don't know where he is and Monty may be the only one who can fly a ship and they're busted up

Another other than that is saying Bloodmoon and Ruin deserved it I have no issue with this point because yeah they did, Bloodmoon is a rabid serial killer who murdered hundreds of humans and kept barrels of human chum in a basement, and Ruin…over 5000 dimensions culled and likely many more, the body count from that is unquantifiable, it is not the fact that Moon would've killed them that is the problem as those two needed to be dealt with, the problem was how, mainly that his plan could have horrific consequences

And him lashing out at his family and saying "now I get to do what I WANT", like, I am sorry, but since when has Moon NOT done what he's always wanted? Old Moon was always doing what he wanted regardless of the consequences and no matter what anyone said edge-wise, New Moon was a lot better until now in that he consulted his family, didn't act rashly, tried to look for the best option, and besides that he still often did what he pleased and nobody stopped him, and part of that was because unlike Old Moon, most of the stuff he was doing was harmless, and he was more careful when getting his hands dirty, but this plan he has now, he's been told by many people it is going to go wrong for many reasons other than just "don't kill them"

He was given Eclipse's alternative to revive Solar that has no consequences attached, if he was thinking straight(and considering he pushed Eclipse into therapy and even apologized for abandoning him) he probably would've taken this option as its faster and had no consequences, but he became obsessed with the idea of killing Bloodmoon and/or Ruin to the point that it wasn't about Solar anymore, it was just about causing hurt

Another is the talk with Old Moon messing with him mentally This I fully agree with, because most of what Old Moon said to him was absolutely screwed up, as one would come to expect from Old Moon, Old Moon telling him to die for his family, being jealous of New Moon despite the fact that Old Moon chose to make this sacrifice and he during his own life at any point could've chosen to be less of a jerk and had what New Moon has, and bringing up New Moon's insecurities about not being as smart or clever, my problem with that is that again, New Moon could've brought this to the table with his family, and considering whenever he previously compared himself to Old Moon they were there to tell him he was doing okay as himself, there is no doubt if he told them what Old Moon said they would've validated him as just being himself, it is also a pretty tall order for any one person to try to fix any of the problems in this show because every villain is a radioactive cockroach

This isn't to say that there isn't some room for sympathy here, having such strong self-imposed expectations of perfectionism can damage a person, and the severe grief over the loss of a loved one he had to watch die in his arms is very hard, it is not that that is the upsetting part, him experiencing hallucinations is also not the problem, the problems were the choices he made, him and him alone, when there was no need to make them

Especially the big episode recently, as all he needed to do was give Earth five minutes, either break her out himself or order Ruin to do it, and let her walk out of the blast radius and he could've taken the two(or just Bloodmoon) out, it still wouldn't have been great, but him so casually trying to kill Earth and not pausing once after severely burning her is crossing a line, a line that notably has NOT caused his family to abandon him despite that, but one where things might not be the same, and it didn't have to be that way, he chose all of this

Overall for me personally this arc feels weird, there's so much nonsensical angst derived from OOC interactions, especially from Moon, and lots of miscommunication and characters just not opening their mouths and speaking plainly, but I wanted to address these issues because it is so painfully clear how one choice would've prevented things from becoming worse, one can only hope Moon makes a right one

You have many good points here, dear anon 👏

Thank you. It's a good look on things from Moon's perspective because I mainly focus on Sun's perspective (hence why I don't see that Sun ever pressured Moon to be better than Old Moon and I also don't see him comparing Moon to Old Moon - in the sense that of expectations, it was more so due to grief and a bit of shock to see that this Moon is so different than Old Moon and well Sun was very traumatised by Old Moon's abuse so it's not surprising that he had harder time to actually believe and feel safe around this New Moon (we can't say that Sun was at fault when no one ever helped him to deal with that trauma) and I think that it was bad that no one allowed Sun to grief properly and no one wanted to listen him talking about his past cause this is what caused Sun to be closed off and not talking about his issues that much despite what trauma from Old Moon's abuse caused already).

I still think that Moon pressured himself so much and he later became so obsessed with bringing Solar back mainly comes from him being selfish.. maybe people don't see that but I sadly dealt with too many selfish people in my life and they all act as they're always right and everyone is immediately against them when in fact they just simply try to point something out and they make a fuss over the smallest of things just like Moon with "others told me not to do (bringing Solar back)" so he had to had a tantrum like typical egoist 🙄

And him being selfish is what caused him to make these awful decisions (becoming a villain and doing whatever he wants as if his family ever forced him to do anything).. though I agree that with how little to none he struggled with decision to kill Earth it seems very out of character for him to do so.. hence why Sun couldn't believe this and thought about virus.. same as me..

But who knows what is showrunners plan actually.. it's really hard to say..

Though thank you for sharing with me and us your thorough analysis of Moon's situation, I really appreciate it and you really did a good job with that 👏

Have a nice day or night, dear anon 💗

[doberbutts]

Friend: yeah idk if you can eat/like Indian food but this particular dish is really yummy

Me: I mean I don't eat Indian often but I think you're forgetting the time that [Indian trans woman friend] was staying at my place? I wasn't charging her rent so she just cooked for us every day while we were either asleep or at work whether we wanted her to or not

Friend: OH YEAH THAT'S RIGHT

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Wild West Outlaw!'s Reaction to You Trying to Escape

Warnings: Slight Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Thoughts, Dominant Outlaw Confirmed, Kidnapping, Restraining/Binding, Binding Kink ( 👀), Punishment, Outlaw having Intrusive Thoughts, Forced Proximity (And They Were Roommates), No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

♡ He has you tied down to a chair so quickly you don’t even get the chance to feel the wind being knocked out of you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw hasn’t survived this long by letting pretty little things like you turn the tables on him. And if his unwavering strength and endurance aren’t enough to confirm that, his knotting skills are.

♡ “Thought ya could pull the wool over my eyes, didn’tya,” the Outlaw drawls, pulling the rope tight over your wrists, panting, recovering from your frolic with freedom.

♡ He leans in, close enough that you can smell the rock-beaten freshness of his shirt, can feel the warmth of his anger radiating against your skin.

♡ “Suppose I’ll just have to discipline ya. Make ya nice and obedient.”

♡ Despite the low, husking tone of his voice, the quiet promise of promiscuity in his drawl, Outlaw’s rendition of punishment comes as… solitude.

♡ He leaves you tied to that chair for hours, riding off into the desert, leaving you with nothing to entertain you save for your thoughts and the wonderings of what he’d do to you when he returned.

♡ You might view this as a cold, calloused method of behavioural conditioning. Starving you, not letting you stretch your legs or go to the bathroom.

♡ Of course, the punishment is still horrific. But, rather unintentionally so.

♡ You see, in the moments between Outlaw’s two-minute tango between you, himself and his rope, something in his brain had switched. Snapped.

♡ Having you look up at him with wide eyes as you writhed beneath his touch, the burn of the rope, the pleas starting to fall from between your lips for him to let you go, stirred something in him. A primal frenzy. A dark need.

♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t think straight, his mind flooding with involuntary ideas, notions of what he could do with – to – you while you’re bound and at his mercy.

♡ He doesn’t know what happened; why having your body pressed so closely to him in such a thrashing, violent, desperate encounter has left him with a heavy burden in his heart and in…other places.

♡ He’s wrangled captives before and they’ve never had the same licentious effect as you did. Then again, he’s never kept a captive for this long, either. And certainly not willingly.

♡ Yandere Outlaw eventually returns, the thought of you helpless in that chair weighing heavy on his mind all day, taking him down avenues and annals of thought he’d only have the opportunity to explore under the cover of darkness.

♡ Of course, he was concerned that you must be hungry by now. Thirsty, too.

♡ That, and…

♡ How there’d be nothing to stop him from having his way with you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw shakes his head, his horse letting out a puff, as if she could read his mind. Don’t, she told him.

♡ “Don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet. He patted her mane, rubbed the space between her ears. “I won’t.”

♡ Upon Yandere Outlaw’s return, he cuts you loose. He doesn’t apologise, but his silence is thick enough with the accent of shame that you can tell he regrets, in whatever slim capacity, what he’s done.

♡ He puts together a simple meal tonight, either for a lack of trusting that you won’t spike his meal with one of the earth’s thousand natural poisons, or as an apology for his actions.

♡ That night, as you lay next to the Outlaw in bed, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts, the Outlaw looks over you. Watches you.

♡ He doesn’t know why the image of you being tied up hadn’t aroused him as much as it had earlier. Especially now, of all times, with you sleeping beside him, entirely incapable of defending yourself if he acted on his primal desires.

♡ Perhaps it was the thrill of the prospect of having everything on the line, of losing you. Perhaps it was the display of his strength, his ability to make you do whatever he pleased through physical force alone.

♡ Yandere Outlaw tried to dampen his thoughts by placing his hat over his face; to stop the heat he was certain made his cheeks glow in the pitch blackness of the cabin. 

♡ And to stop the onslaught of another issue. 

♡ Taking a dip in the cold waters of the river this time of night didn’t much appeal to him. Especially when he could indulge himself a little longer in the image of you gagged, bound and entirely his.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two

a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!

Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex

non-mcu masterlist

part one

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes

The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.

Fuck Simon.

Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.

“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”

You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;

“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”

And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.

The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.

He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.

Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.

Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.

After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.

Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.

No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.

He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.

When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…

Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.

Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.

John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’

He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”

Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”

“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”

You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.

“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”

“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.

“Irritable you say?”

You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.

“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”

Relief.

The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.

You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.

“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”

That bastard.

You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.

“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.

Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.

It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.

Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.

“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.

John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.

“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”

Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.

“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”

“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.

He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.

“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”

You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.

Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.

Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.

The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.

You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.

“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”

His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”

“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”

“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”

[vroomvroomcircuit]

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

_______________________

“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

[signoferoda]

Bestiee loved all your stories u have written!💗 can I request a angsty one shot?? Like H has being neglecting reader nd one time she made dinner for him nd he came late nd she was so sad but she didn't said anything cause she didn't want to be a burden so h came nd sees her sleeping on couch nd dinner was on the dining table nd then apologize to her for the way he was behaving nd it ends with smut??

I don't know if u would like this idea but if u comfortable writing this I would love to read it:)

enjoy! I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long :(

***

The cool autumn air drifted through the slightly open window of the cozy apartment, carrying with it the faint scent of the pumpkin spice candle burning on the coffee table. Y/N stood in the kitchen, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. The soft hum of the oven filled the silence, a stark contrast to the lively chatter that usually filled their home.

Harry had been distant lately. Late nights at the studio had turned into missed dinners and brief, half-hearted conversations. Y/N couldn't remember the last time they'd shared a meal or even a genuine moment together. Tonight was supposed to be different. She had spent hours preparing Harry's favourite meal, hoping it might remind him of the love and warmth they once shared.

She glanced at the clock again. 10:15 PM. Her heart sank a little deeper with each passing minute. She had texted him earlier, reminding him about dinner, but his response had been the usual vague promise: "I'll try to make it."

Y/N set the table, placing the freshly baked lasagna in the centre. The salad was already wilting, and the wine had lost its chill. She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. She didn't want to be a burden, to nag him about spending time together. She knew how hard he was working, how much he wanted to succeed. But it hurt, nonetheless.

Finally, the front door creaked open, and Harry stepped in, looking exhausted. His tie was loosened, and his hair was a disheveled mess. He paused in the doorway, his eyes immediately drawn to the untouched dinner and the solitary place setting.

"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice heavy with fatigue.

No response. He walked further into the apartment, spotting her curled up on the couch, asleep. Her face was a picture of peaceful slumber, but he could see the traces of disappointment etched in her features. Guilt gnawed at him as he realised just how much he'd been neglecting her.

Harry quietly approached her, crouching down to brush a stray hair from her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything."

He took a moment to compose himself, then stood and walked back to the kitchen. The sight of the meticulously prepared meal made his chest tighten. She had gone through all this trouble for him, and he hadn't even had the decency to show up on time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her this vulnerable, and it shattered him.

Harry carefully reheated the lasagna, wanting to at least try and salvage some part of her effort. As the oven worked its magic, he poured himself a glass of wine and took a long sip, reflecting on how distant he had become. He missed her. He missed them.

When the food was ready, he filled a plate and brought it to the couch. Sitting down beside her, he gently shook her shoulder. "Y/N, wake up, love."

Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to surprise as she saw him holding the plate of food. "Harry?" she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's late," he admitted, his voice soft. "I’m sorry I missed dinner. But I'm here now."

She looked at the plate and then back at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I... I didn't want to bother you. I know how busy you've been with the album."

Harry placed the plate on the coffee table and took her hands in his. "You could never be a bother to me, Y/N. I've been an idiot, pushing you aside for work. I thought I was doing it for us, but I see now that I've only been hurting you."

Tears finally spilled down her cheeks, and Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I promise I'll do better. You mean everything to me, and I can't keep neglecting you like this."

She clung to him, the weight of her loneliness slowly lifting. "I just missed you, Harry. I miss us."

"I miss us too," he said, pulling back to look into her eyes. "Let's make it right, starting now. How about we share this meal together?"

She nodded, a small smile breaking through her tears. "I'd like that."

They sat on the couch, sharing the reheated lasagna and sipping the now-warm wine. The food was delicious, but more than that, it was the warmth of their rekindled connection that filled the room. They talked, really talked, for the first time in what felt like forever. And as the night wore on, the distance between them faded, replaced by a renewed promise of love and understanding.

Harry held her close as they finished the last of their meal, grateful for the second chance to make things right. He knew it wouldn't be easy, that they had a lot of healing to do. But with Y/N by his side, he felt hopeful. They had found their way back to each other, and that was a start.

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, angst, language, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI)

A/N: I only edited this once, I apologize for any errors I missed, I have been sick the past week but wanted to make sure to get this chapter out to you all :)

Chapter Twenty

April 2005

The dim morning light seeped through the curtains with a bluish hue as the sun just began to rise. Although it was early, Joel had been awake for almost an hour for the second time that week, his hand clutching at his bare chest as he focused on his breathing. He had been tossing and turning, alternating between staring at your empty side of the bed and trying to go back to sleep. Eventually, his intrusive thoughts won the war, and just like every other time that happened, his chest began to tighten. He closed his eyes and imagined you putting your small hand over his heart, reminding him to breathe. He focused as hard as he could on the image, hearing you say it over and over until he felt his chest loosen and his lungs could drag in more air. When it finally passed, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, catching his breath and listening to the birds chirp outside his window.

It had been almost four months since you left. At first, he gave you your space, but after a month, he couldn't stay away. He found himself leaning against the bar of the Tipsy Bison every night, throwing back whiskey and waiting for you to show up. He figured you would eventually have to go there to eat, but you must have been making food at Maria's house, or maybe Maria had been bringing food back to you because you never came.

Then he was at Maria's door, drunkenly begging to see you from the porch. If Maria was home, she would send him on his way, gently telling him you wanted to be left alone. If no one answered, he would sit there for at least an hour, even in the freezing cold of winter, hoping you would change your mind and let him in.

He knew it was pathetic, but he didn't care. If he didn't have you, there was no point. He was determined to explain himself. He should have told you months ago when you thought he was just being jealous. You weren't wrong, he was a little jealous and possessive at the way Jake spoke to you, looked at you, kissed you. But the main reason, the real reason why he lost all control that night was because of Kansas City. At the time, he didn't want to burden you with his problems, knowing you had enough to worry about, enough trauma to work through on your own that he wasn't going to saddle you with his, but that night in Kansas City changed him. He didn't realize it until months later, too focused on you and trying to keep you going, trying to keep you safe. But after talking with Tommy, he realized he must have had some unresolved trauma from the whole event. The panic attacks, the flashbacks, and his hesitancy to be physical with you all stemmed from that night.

Tommy told him he had to forgive himself for what happened to you, that until he did, he would never be able to move on. However, he couldn't work on that without talking to you first, to apologize and explain why he did what he did, but you kept yourself hidden away.

You still went to work at the greenhouse, but he wouldn't corner you there. He wanted you to talk to him on your own terms. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he would catch you from a distance crossing the street hurriedly as you made your way to work, your head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone until you made it inside the safety of the greenhouse.

You had been right, there was a town vote on whether Joel should be asked to leave. He had the right to state his case, so he was there that night, hoping to see you up close, but you didn't go. Tommy had helped him prepare a speech, told him to focus on all the good he did for the town with the construction of the wall, that it was a one-time incident and beg the people not to judge him too harshly for it. It must have worked because they only received nine votes wanting him to leave. The matter was settled, he was allowed to stay. He thought once you heard the news that you would be open to talking with him, but he was wrong.

Even though it was spring, the mornings were still cool. He looked over at your side of the bed and wondered if you were cold, if you missed his touch the way he missed yours.

He sighed and sat up in bed, tossing his legs over the side of the mattress. He stretched and grabbed some clothes, heading out the door to the bathroom. He glanced once at the closed door across the hall before entering the bathroom. As quietly as he could, he turned the water on in the shower and pulled the curtain shut, letting the hot water sear his skin. He was trying to be careful not to wake Tommy or his new neighbor, an older man named Luther.

Jake was in the infirmary for almost two weeks before he was released. Obviously, neither he nor Joel wanted to live in the same house anymore, so one day when Joel was at work, Jake, with some help, came to collect his belongings. He ended up switching rooms with Luther, who had previously been living above the infirmary. Luther was in his 70s and at the time, was probably the only person in town who didn't care about living so close to Joel. Even though only nine people wanted him gone, the town kept their distance from him for a while, avoiding his eye when he walked down the street, sitting far away from him at the dining hall. If it wasn't for Tommy and Maria, he would have been completely alone.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, deciding he might as well get an early start on the day. The wall was just about finished. He estimated it would be fully complete by the end of next week, so long as they didn't get any major rain that delayed construction.

He quietly boiled some water for instant coffee, too impatient to wait for the coffee maker, and poured it into a thermos. He slid on his boots and grabbed a jacket but didn't put it on as he walked out the door. He paused to take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, early morning air. He walked down the steps, glancing up and down the street before turning to head towards the new neighborhood. It was early, the rest of the town was still asleep. Or so he thought.

He took a sip from his thermos, tipping his head back and cursing when he burnt his tongue. He rounded the corner of the street, wiping coffee from his chin when he collided headfirst into you.

He smelled your shampoo before he even saw your face, and his heart began to thud wildly in his chest. His breath caught in his throat when you looked up at him, your beautiful eyes wide with shock.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, your gaze raking down his body quickly before looking back up at him. "S-sorry," you said, blush creeping along your cheeks as you moved to the side to walk past him.

"It's alright," he murmured, still taking in every detail of you now that he's finally seen you up close. Your face looked thinner, and your hair was a little longer, but otherwise you still looked the same. You began to walk away, your eyes fixed on your destination and trying not to give your emotions away when he called your name. You stopped, but you didn't turn around.

He struggled with what to say, not expecting you to stop.

"How are you?" he asked softly. Idiot.

"I'm good," you said. Your voice sounded so small. His eyes drifted to the thermos in his hand, trying to think of something else to say when, to his surprise, you spoke again.

"How are you?"

You still had your back to him, but your head was turned slightly to the side.

"Good," he replied, but shook his head and dropped his shoulders.

"That's a lie. I'm fuckin' terrible."

He heard you suck in air at his admission, and he shifted his weight to his other foot, waiting for you to say something, anything else.

"You look tired," you said, turning slightly to face him now.

"Can't sleep without you," he said, his eyebrows pinched. It looked like you wanted to say something else but held back, choosing instead to bite down on your lip and look away as you rocked on your heels.

"I look for you every day," he whispered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pressed your lips together. "Miss you so much, it hurts."

"Joel..." you said, wiping a tear from your cheek. He swallowed and clenched his fist at his side, trying to restrain himself from wrapping you up in his arms. 

"You need to stop coming by Maria's," you told him, eyes still shut. "You're making this so much harder than it has to be."

"Will you at least talk to me?" he begged. His throat felt tight from trying to stifle his emotions. When you didn't respond, he tried again.

"I'll leave you alone, but please, just talk to me, once. One time. That's all."

You opened your eyes and looked at him now, seeing the desperation and pain written all over his face.

He could hear someone's front door open and shut, then two people's voices breaking the morning silence and heading in your direction.

"Let me think about it," you said, then quickly turned from him to head towards the greenhouse.

He released the breath he didn't realize he was holding as he watched you leave.

That was the most you've spoken to him in months. Progress.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him as you rounded the corner, out of sight.

You pushed the greenhouse door open and slammed it shut behind you, leaning against it to catch your breath. Joel was never out this early. You always tried to sneak around town whenever you knew he was working or sleeping, desperately attempting to avoid what just happened because you knew when you finally did see him, you would crack.

You buried your face in your hands, grateful to be alone for once so you could gather yourself. Carrie still helped in the greenhouse when she could, but the night of the fight, Bill, the town doctor, enlisted her assistance in patching Jake up. Apparently, she did an outstanding job and Bill was eager to keep her around more at the infirmary. Carrie had always been more interested in medicine and always so excited to learn whenever Bill gave her the chance, so you understood that she wanted to prioritize that over the greenhouse.

She never held it against you once you tearfully explained to her what happened. In fact, she felt bad that she had put you in that position in the first place, which you immediately brushed off, assuring her it was not her fault, and that both the men were idiots.

You had feared the worst that night. Afraid Joel had beaten Jake so badly that he wouldn't make it, knowing if that happened, he most definitely would be asked to leave Jackson. You were so grateful that Carrie provided you with constant updates on his improving condition. You didn't want to go visit him and give the wrong impression to anybody in town, least of all Jake.

You shrugged your coat off and hung it by the door, heading to the office to review the notes you had made regarding the various stages of herbs and vegetables. This was the week you had planned on harvesting a crop of medicinal herbs to bring over to Bill, so you pulled your gloves on and grabbed your shears, getting to work.

You replayed your interaction with Joel over and over in your mind as you clipped the herbs, carefully knotting them together with twine and labeling them before moving on. You had been successfully avoiding him for months, but you knew this would happen someday. You used to be so angry with him for what he did: not letting you take care of yourself, not believing you when you told him you handled the situation, then went and embarrassed you in front of the whole town and risked the chance of getting kicked out. But as time went on, that anger melted away, and every day you felt yourself weaken even more.

He sat outside on Maria's porch most nights, hoping you would come to him. And so many times, you almost did. You stood on the other side of the door, resting your forehead against it, listening to the war raging inside you until you either gave up and went back to your room, or he left. It was killing you having him out there. You couldn't think straight, couldn't work through your feelings when you knew he was there, standing vigil outside your door.

And now, you finally ran into him. Literally, ran into him. And he smelled so good. You could tell he had just showered; his hair was still slicked back in the way you secretly loved but never told him. And he was warm. His rough hand on you was so warm and inviting, it dragged back so many memories of what those hands could do that you needed to take a step back to collect yourself.

When you saw the pain in his face, you tried your best to look away, to avoid eye contact because if you didn't you knew you would give in and go to him, and you still hadn't figured out after all this time if that was what you wanted. His constant presence was making your mind muddled and it was impossible to sort through your feelings. The only place you found refuge was in the greenhouse, where you were primarily alone, with no external stimulus to distract you. Here is where you could finally think.

And you were beginning to think you wanted him back.

You groaned, shaking your head as you tried to focus.

You finished up harvesting the medicinal herbs, making a mental note to check on the seedlings when you returned. You packed the herbs into a basket and made your way outside.

The sun was out, but the air was still brisk. You had pulled your coat on, but five minutes into the walk to the infirmary, you regretted wearing it. As you walked down the now busy street, your eyes naturally traveled to the new neighborhood where Joel was working. Sure enough, you spotted him talking to someone and pointing at the small unfinished portion of the wall. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and you watched his forearms flex. You always were so mesmerized by his arms, and the familiar pull in your abdomen reminded you he still had that effect.

The man he was speaking to walked in the direction Joel had been pointing, and then he stood there with his hands on his hips. As if he felt your gaze, he turned towards your direction, searching the crowd. You quickly averted your eyes and focused your attention on the infirmary. You walked up the steps and gave two quick knocks before pushing the door open, and you swore you felt Joel's gaze on your back until you closed the door behind you.

"Bill?" you called out, the place surprisingly quiet. "Carrie?"

You peered around a corner into an exam room to find it empty. You frowned and kept moving down the hall.

"Hello?" you called out again, softer this time. You placed your hand on a doorknob when you heard something fall at the end of the hall. You dropped your hand and moved in the direction of the noise.

"Bill?" you said timidly. "It's me. I have turmeric and ginger for you."

Still not getting a response, your heart rate began to pick up, wondering what the hell was going on.

Your hand hovered over the doorknob of the last exam room, listening intently, trying to figure out if anyone or anything was behind the door. You gripped your basket tightly in your hand, and pushed the door open with a start.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, covering your eyes. You had been expecting the worst, wondering if someone had gotten bit and turned, but what you didn't expect was Jake half naked on top of Carrie on the exam room bed.

"I'm sorry!" you said, slamming the door behind you, still covering your eyes. You heard hushed whispers on the other side of the door, and you dropped your hand, rushing to the front of the office and placing your basket down, figuring Carrie could bring it back empty for her next shift.

You hustled out of the building, your face bright red as you made your way back. You had no idea if Joel saw you this time, too embarrassed to look. You kept your head down until you made it back to the sanctity of the greenhouse, and for the second time that morning, collecting yourself as you caught your breath against the door.

"Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later," Maria said after you told her about your conversation with Joel. She was fixing her hair in the bathroom, about to head out to dinner with Tommy, while you stood against the door frame and regaled her with your story.

"Yeah, I know," you muttered, rolling your head against the wall.

"How long are you gonna make him suffer?" she teased you. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you're always welcome here, but the new neighborhood will be done soon..."

"How much longer til it's done?" you asked.

"Joel thinks by end of next week. I'm going to head over there tomorrow and start assigning houses."

You nodded, thinking back to Joel's request from that morning.

"Maybe I should at least talk to him," you suggested, and Maria squealed, making you jump.

"I'm sorry, but please, I'm begging you. I didn't want to make you feel bad, but he's just so miserable sitting at that bar all alone every night, then hanging around my porch."

"Well, it's not like I'm torturing him for no reason!" you argued. She held up her hands in defeat.

"I know. You're right. What he did was wrong. Hell, I was ready to kick his ass that night. But he's redeemed himself. He's done so much for the town, and he's never had another altercation. Even when Jake is around, there's no problem anymore." Maria flicked the light off and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

"Speaking of Jake, I saw him today when I was dropping off herbs to Bill," you said, trailing after her.

"Oh, yeah? Was it awkward?"

You laughed, and she turned to look at you, giving you a curious smile.

"Uh, yeah, it was awkward, but not for the reason you're thinking."

You went on to tell her how you walked in on him and Carrie and she clamped her hands over her mouth as she listened to your story. The two of you were doubling over with laughter when Tommy entered the kitchen with a smile on his face.

"What're you girls laughin' about?" he asked, wrapping an arm around Maria and giving her a kiss on the top of her head. You looked away, trying not to remember how Joel used to pull that exact move on you.

"Oh, I'll tell you about it later. You wanna join us?" Maria asked, turning to you. Even though your answer was always no, she asked you every night anyway.

"Yeah, thanks. I'll just get something to bring back here," you said, breezing past them and ignoring their surprised faces.

Maria turned to Tommy and mouthed the word "Joel" behind your back, exchanging looks.

"Ready?" you asked them over your shoulder, pulling the door open.

"Yep!" Maria said, dragging Tommy behind her and out the door.

Joel settled into his usual spot at the bar and waited for Seth to bring over his glass of whiskey. He glanced around the room as Seth put the drink in front of him, envious of all the happy and smiling faces. He stared down at the full glass in his hands, just watching the liquid swirl around without taking a sip. He had no idea what he would do tonight now that he promised you he would stop going to Maria's house. Even though you never opened the door, it eased his mind knowing you were near, that you were safe. It was the only good part of his day.

He rubbed his face into the palms of his hands, trying not to let the panic swell up inside his chest. He breathed deeply a few times, but it wasn't helping.

'Shit,' he thought, 'This can't happen here.’

He stood from his stool, abandoning his untouched glass of whiskey and yanked on his coat, his vision getting narrow. He heard Tommy and Maria enter from across the room like they usually did around this time. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping they wouldn't see him as he shuffled his way towards the door, keeping his head down and flexing his fingers, trying to keep them from going numb.

"Joel?"

He froze, unsure if he really heard your voice. Maybe he was going crazy.

Then you reached out to put a hand on his arm, and just like that, his hands didn't feel tingly anymore. He looked up and met your concerned gaze. He must have looked like a wreck because you turned back towards the door, tugging his elbow, forcing him to follow you.

You pulled him outside and down the street a bit, finding a bench in a quiet area and made him sit down. He hung his head between his knees as he struggled for air.

"Come on," you said softly, rubbing his back. "You're ok. Lift your head up," you tugged gently on his shoulder, making him sit upright to look at you. His eyes were glassy and his jaw tense as he clutched at his chest.

"Joel, come on, you can do this," you told him firmly, removing his hand and replacing it with your own over his heart. His eyes slid shut and his head tipped back, relief instantly flooding through him at your touch.

"In through your nose, out through your mouth," you said quietly, and he immediately obeyed. You didn't remove your hand until you felt his heartbeat return to normal and his eyes reopened.

"Thank you," he panted lightly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Does that happen a lot?" you asked, picking at the seam of your jeans. He nodded.

"Yeah," was all he offered, and you swallowed. They never used to happen that often.

"This might be a bad time but did you... did you want to still have that talk?" you asked him, chewing on your lower lip nervously.

"Never a bad time if I'm with you," he said weakly, still rattled from his panic attack but his eyes were wide and hopeful. You blushed and nodded your head down the street.

"Let's take a walk," you suggested, standing up.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, joining you as you slowly meandered down the almost empty street.

For the first time since you met, you were uncomfortable and not sure what to say. So, you decided to keep it to small talk, keep it safe. 

"Maria told me the wall is almost done," you said.

"Yeah, another week should do it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked alongside you.

"What will you do when it's finished?" you asked, glancing at him. He looked nervous.

"Oh, I got some stuff I gotta work on over there for a bit, then I reckon Tommy'll have me on patrol."

"Patrol?" you repeated, your brows furrowed.

"Yeah, why? You don't want me on patrol?" he asked when he saw your face, then bit his cheek after he realized what he said. He wasn't even sure you were together anymore, but he was talking like you were.

"No," you shrugged, "do whatever you want."

You walked in silence for a couple minutes, slowly making your way down the street before you realized you were heading toward the stables. The horses were out in the pasture grazing and enjoying the last bit of daylight. You walked up to the fence and leaned against it, watching the horses flick their ears and tails.

"It probably won't mean much now," Joel said, taking a deep breath. "But I'm sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry. I was stupid and I overreacted. And I shoulda listened to you. You told me you handled it, and you did, it's just..."

His jaw ticked and he looked away from you.

"I just got some stuff to work through, is all. It's my fault," he said, still looking away. You watched him carefully now that his face was turned away. You could tell he was struggling with something, like he was holding something back, but he seemed sincere.

"Thank you," you said quietly, and rested your chin on the top of your hands as you looked out at the pasture. Joel looked back at you, admiring the way the evening sun highlighted your delicate features.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," he whispered in awe. You felt a shiver go up your spine and you tried to hide it by awkwardly shifting your weight.

"Joel..." you said, trying to make your tone come off as a warning, but failing. He was breaking you down, you could feel it.

"Gimme another chance," he begged, turning his body to face you, leaning his side against the fence. "Please. I-I can't stop thinkin' about you. I'll do whatever it takes. Please."

You knew it would be your downfall, but you did it anyway. You turned your head and looked into his deep, brown eyes, filled with regret and anguish. His expression was pleading as he nervously picked at the paint on the fence without looking.

After everything the two of you had been through, saving each other's lives, being there for each other through it all, and defying all odds at survival, how could you not give in?

"Okay," you whispered, and his face lit up. He reached out a hand to you with a smile and you took it, pulling you into a tight hug and burying his nose in your hair, breathing deep. You smelled like roses and some strong herb that you grew in the greenhouse he couldn't quite identify, and fuck did he miss that smell. He missed the way you fit perfectly into his arms and how you always knew exactly what to do to help with his attacks. He didn't deserve you, he’d known that for a while, but he also knew he would never love anybody else the way he loved you.

"I don't think I can just jump right back to the way we were before," you murmured against his chest, and he nodded.

"I know," he said, "I understand." Even though he said the words, his heart broke a little realizing you wouldn't be in bed next to him tonight. But you were giving him another chance, that's what was important, and he wasn't going to fuck it up again.

"Will you walk me back?" you asked quietly, still clutched in his embrace.

"'Course I will," he said, taking a step back. He dropped his arm to his side and laced his fingers in between yours.

The day had turned to dusk, the string lights that weaved above your heads began to flicker on as he walked you back to Maria's house in a comfortable silence. He tried to go slow, wanting to soak up every second he could before he had to go back to Tommy's all alone.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" Joel asked you, hoping he didn't sound as needy as he felt. You thought about it for a moment.

"How about lunch?" you offered, and he couldn't keep the smile from pulling across his face as he led you up the steps to Maria's porch.

"Sounds perfect," he said. You turned and looked up at him through your eyelashes as you stood in front of the door.

"Thanks for walking me back," you said, letting his hand go and dropping it to your side.

"Thank you for not givin' up on me," he replied with a sad smile.

You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, pressing your face against his neck.

"I just wish you would have trusted me," you murmured into his skin. "But I'll never give up on you, Joel."

He pulled back from you just enough so he could lean down and capture your lips with his, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. His kiss took you by surprise, but you only needed a moment before reacting. You massaged your lips against his slowly and gently, like you were trying to commit every second to memory. You didn't look to deepen the kiss. You just wanted to feel him close to you, not realizing how badly you missed him and his touch. You let one of your hands fall to his collar from the back of his neck, gripping the fabric there tightly in your fist.

He tried to match your pace, he tried to go slow, but it had been four agonizing months without you, and he found it impossible to restrain himself. He pressed his lips against yours firmly, increasing the pace and frequency of kisses he planted against your mouth. He slid his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, holding you against him. That's when you moaned softly, and his judgement began to slip. He reluctantly pulled away from you, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden loss.

"Sorry," he whispered, panting for air. "It's just... if we keep goin', we'll be gettin' breakfast instead of lunch."

You laughed breathlessly as you felt heat creep up your neck. He grinned, pleased he could make you laugh.

You reached for the door, your hand on the knob, and turned back to him before pushing it open.

"Good night, Joel," you said quietly.

"G'night, sweetheart," he replied as he watched you enter the house, shutting the door softly behind you.

The next morning, Joel awoke early, like usual, but the anxiety that typically greeted him was absent. He laid in the bed you once shared, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the birds awaken outside, waiting for his chest to constrict, but it never came. Instead, his thoughts were filled with you from the day before. How sweet and gentle you were when you helped him through his panic attack. The way you looked at him with your soft, beautiful eyes, your hair pulled back but still some strands made their way to rest against your collarbone, and the shy smiles you offered that reminded him of when you had first met.

He closed his eyes, replaying the kiss you shared outside of Maria's house. He could tell he took you off guard. He knew he took a risk, but he couldn't help himself. And the soft, slow way you kissed him back was unlike anything the two of you had shared before. He was used to the passionate, hungry way you typically were with one another, but yesterday felt different. Yesterday felt like love. He wanted more, wishing he hadn't allowed himself to pick up the pace and then stopped the moment too soon.

He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he got ready, looking forward to meeting you for lunch. Maria was supposed to stop by the new neighborhood that morning, he was hoping that would help make his day go by fast so he could see you again.

He jogged lightly down the stairs, a spring in his step as he reached for his usual thermos, noticing the coffee had already been brewed. He turned around, looking for evidence of his roommates, shocked Tommy or Luther had been up at this hour. He shrugged, pouring some coffee into his thermos when he heard the downstairs bathroom door open.

"You're up early," Joel said over his shoulder, turning around. His jaw fell open and his eyebrows shot up in embarrassment when instead of meeting Tommy's gaze, he met Maria's, with only a towel wrapped around herself, frozen in the hallway. Joel whipped back around to face the coffee maker and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, thought you were Tommy," Joel said, staring down at the coffee in his hands.

"No problem!" Maria squeaked, making a beeline for Tommy's bedroom and shutting the door. He could hear hushed whispers from the room as Joel slid his boots on. He was tying them up when Tommy emerged from the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"G'mornin'," Tommy mumbled, still half asleep.

"Yeah, looks like you are havin' a good mornin'," Joel chuckled, reaching for the other boot's laces. Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit that seemed to run in the family.

"Thought you might've stayed the night at Maria's," Tommy said as Joel stood, snatching his coffee from the bottom stair. Joel looked at him, confused, before he elaborated.

"We saw you two last night," Tommy explained with a grin. "Comin' back from dinner. We saw you on Maria's porch. So, I took her back here, thought you could use the privacy."

"Oh," Joel said, nodding. He picked his coat from the hook by the door but just held it in his hand, not sure yet what the temperature was like outside. "No, nothin' like that."

Joel must have had a dejected look on his face because Tommy's face turned to one of concern.

"Everythin' alright now?" he prodded.

"Yeah. Or, it will be. I think. She's givin' me another chance, but I think we both got stuff we need to work out. Tryin' to take it slow."

"Hey, now that's good news! And I'll bet once she sees that house, it'll all be forgotten," Tommy said, clapping Joel on the shoulder before heading over to the coffee.

"Yeah, thanks. Hey, tell Maria I'll see her in a bit," Joel replied as he tossed his coat over his arm and walked out the front door.

He hoped Tommy was right. He has been working on that house for weeks, ever since the weather broke and he had the opportunity to spend extra time there after work. The house itself was in good condition, but he wanted it to be perfect. He had knocked down a wall, opening up the kitchen and the living room. He fixed a few broken things around the house: a door that wouldn't shut properly, a cabinet that was missing a handle. But most recently, he had been working on the outside. There was a small porch already installed, but it wasn't a wraparound porch, and that was what you told him you always wanted. So, he built it for you, taking great care as he went to make it perfect, and even carved some decorative designs into the wood when the mood struck and when he found the time. He had just finished construction on the porch and yesterday he had begun to paint the siding white with some paint Tommy had looted for him at a nearby hardware store.

He was keeping the house a secret until he had it just the way he wanted it for you. Just the way you always deserved.

'One step at a time,' he told himself as he approached the house, testing the wooden swing he built on the porch before taking a seat, sipping from his thermos as he looked around the quiet neighborhood. One step at a time.

"What is wrong with me?" you muttered to yourself as you strode down the street towards the Tipsy Bison. Your hands were trembling as you walked, your nerves creeping up on you ever since you left the greenhouse. Why were you so anxious to see Joel? He was the only constant in your life for so long, this should be easy. But for some reason, you were nervous to see him. Nervous about what to say. You were so lost in your thoughts that it took Carrie twice to call out your name before you heard her, turning around. You must have walked right by her and Jake without realizing it.

"Oh!" you said, shaking your head and giving her a smile. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Your eyes drifted to Jake's and gave him a small smile. You hadn't seen him since the fight, and you wouldn't really count the time you walked in on him and Carrie all over each other. Fortunately, he seemed fully healed and looked happy, giving you a warm smile with his arm draped around Carrie's shoulder.

"Heading to lunch?" Carrie asked you brightly. You nodded, deciding to leave Joel's name out of it.

"Yep, how about you guys?"

"We packed a little picnic!" Carrie said, lifting a basket in her hand. "We're going to enjoy some of this nice weather, this winter has been so horrible, I've just been dying to get outside." Her eyes shifted to Jake, noticing he was rather quiet.

"Um, why don't I go on ahead and find a good spot in the park?" Carrie said quietly to Jake. He gave her an adoring smile and nodded. You frowned, confused at the obvious setup that was taking place.

"I'll see you tomorrow at work," she told you with a wave and one more reassuring glance at Jake before heading towards the small park near the center of town.

"Everything alright?" you asked him curiously, and he nodded.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine. She just wanted us to clear the air about, y'know," he gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, and you nodded.

"Right," you said, looking down at your feet. "Well, I'm sorry I didn't visit, I was just so embarrassed, and I knew everyone in town would talk... but I asked Carrie for updates all the time. It's not like I didn't care, I just..." you trailed off, glancing around you nervously, looking for Joel.

"I know, it's alright," he said with a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I actually wanted to apologize to you." You frowned, finally looking back up at him.

"Apologize? For what?" you asked incredulously.

"Well, kissing you, for one. I know I already explained it was a misunderstanding, but that night got me all worked up and I had this stupid idea that you would be happier with me... I don't know, I guess I just let my feelings get the best of me. And I'm sorry I put you in that position," he said sincerely, looking you straight in the eye to try to drive his point home. "And secondly, I'm sorry for what I said to you during the fight. It wasn't right, I had no place to say that to you. I-I don't have any idea what your relationship with Joel is like, I was just pissed and talking out of my ass."

Jake looked relieved once he finished his speech, and you wondered briefly if he rehearsed it. It certainly felt like it. You had no idea he was feeling responsible for what happened that night. You were too wrapped up in what you and Joel were going through to give Jake a second thought.

"Oh, you don't need to apologize, but I appreciate it all the same," you said, waving him off and feeling guilty you didn't consider his side of things until now. "I'm sorry - about what Joel did. We've just been through a lot out there," you gestured to the world beyond Jackson. "It's no excuse, but I think we were both a little distrusting of new people at the time. And I'm just glad you're okay."

"It's alright," he said, awkwardly shifting his weight and glancing around at the now busy street. "Hell, maybe it was meant to be," he chuckled, and you gave him a confused smile. "Carrie," he clarified, gesturing in the direction she had walked toward earlier. "She took care of me after that, and I got to know her. You were right to try to set us up. She's awesome," he said, gazing longingly towards the park. You turned and looked in the same direction, as if you could see her from where you were standing.

"Hm, you're right," you said, turning back to him. "Maybe you owe me one, then." He laughed at your joke, finally looking more relaxed.

"Well, anyway, I won't keep you. Just wanted to, y'know, go back to normal," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, thanks Jake," you said, and you meant it. "I'll see you around."

You gave him a wave and turned to head back towards the Tipsy Bison, nervous to see Joel for an entirely different reason now.

You pushed the door open and looked around the packed dining hall. He noticed you immediately and stood up from the table he had claimed, drawing your attention and a smile. You squeezed through the full tables of neighbors laughing and eating. Once you reached the table, Joel wrapped you into a quick one-armed hug before sliding your chair out for you.

"Wow, pulling out all the stops?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood. He grinned and sat down.

"Well, I'm still from the south. Old habits and all that," he said, tapping his fingers anxiously on the table. The noise drew your attention to his hands, and you frowned, reaching over to pick up one of his hands gently in yours.

"Why are your hands red?" you asked.

"Oh, just some paint," he said, watching you turn his hand over in yours to examine it closer before letting it go, already missing your touch.

"Sheesh, I thought it was blood or something. Are you painting the wall?" you asked, confused. He shook his head.

"Nah, just somethin' else I'm workin' on," he explained, desperate to change the subject. "Was there a plant emergency or somethin'?" he joked, making you laugh heartily, and you shook your head.

"No, I'm sorry I'm late. I ran into someone, and they were talking my ear off," you said, looking down at the table, avoiding his gaze.

"Oh, alright. Thought maybe I dreamed up our conversation last night, had me worried I was losin' it," he said, his hand entering your field of vision to reach for yours. You smiled and looked back up at him, then decided if you were starting over, you should be honest.

"It was Jake," you said, maintaining eye contact to gauge his reaction. He stilled for a moment, and a muscle in his jaw twitched, but he forced a smile anyway.

"Okay," he said, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. "So, how was your morning?"

"You aren't going to ask me what he wanted?" you asked, keeping a close eye on his reaction. He shook his head, still smiling at you.

"Nope. Not unless you feel like tellin' me. I trust you," he said, sitting back in his chair and looked up at the busy bar. "I'll go up and order us somethin', what'dya feel like havin'?"

"I'll have whatever you're having," you said, a bewildered look on your face. He stood up and headed over to the bar, leaning against it to get Seth's attention.

You sat there, shocked, as you waited for Joel to return with your food. You could tell Joel still had a reaction to hearing Jake's name, but he controlled himself and didn't lash out.  You were touched, noticing how hard he was trying. He even made a point to say he trusted you.

You watched as he made his way back to your table, people inadvertently moving out of his way, unlike you who had to squeeze through the crowds.

"What?" Joel asked with a smirk, seeing the look on your face.

"I was just thinking about when we used to work together," you told him, and he groaned, setting down a sandwich in front of you.

"Seems like a lifetime ago," he said, taking a bite of his food. "What made you think of that?"

"Just the way everyone moved out of your way," you told him, unwrapping your sandwich. "Everyone at the office was terrified of you."

"Not you," he said, catching your eye.

"You sure about that?" you teased, knowing he was referencing the intense conversation you both had in the conference room. He smiled, pleased you remembered that night.

"He apologized, by the way," you said, offering up the information he wanted, even though he refused to ask. He raised his eyebrows.

"I should be the one to apologize to him," he admitted, looking down.

"I kind of did that for you," you said, shrugging. "I just explained we had trouble trusting people. Besides, he's more than happy with the way things turned out."

You went on to tell Joel about Jake and Carrie, how they stared at each other and couldn't keep their hands off the other. When you told him how you walked in on the two of them at the clinic, he nearly choked on his sandwich, making you giggle.

"Goddamn, you had yourself a day, huh?" he said, leaning back in his chair and crumpling up the paper from his sandwich.

"Mhmm," you said, finishing your food. "From beginning to end," you said, giving him a look. His gaze grew heated as he thought about the kiss you shared last night, leaning forward on the table with his arms crossed.

"Thought about you a lot after I left," he said lowly, and your breath hitched in your throat.

"Oh, yeah?" you murmured, leaning onto the table, mimicking him. "What did you think about?"

"I don't think that answer's appropriate for a lady such as yourself to hear," he smirked, his pulse thudding in his neck at the direction the conversation was taking.

You hummed, flashing him a flirty smile as you inched your hand out across the table towards him.

"There are those southern manners again," you said, watching his hand reached towards yours, his fingertips lightly brushing against your own.

"Can't be helped, I'm afraid," he said, hooking a finger under one of your own.

"I can recall many times when those manners seemed to escape you, Mr. Miller," you said quietly, watching his eyes flicker at the formal title. "In fact, I remember you saying some very filthy things -"

Joel cut you off with a loud clearing of his throat. He subtly glanced around at the tables nearby, looking to see if anyone had been eavesdropping on your conversation before turning back to you.

"Why are you always rilin' me up in this building?" he asked you, giving your finger a tug with his own. You shrugged, leaning back with a giggle.

"Can't be helped, I'm afraid," you said, repeating his words back to him. "I guess I have a thing for tacky western decor."

He laughed, rubbing his face with his hand while his other remained hooked around your finger.

"This was nice," he said, dropping his hand to his lap.

"Yeah, it was," you said, shifting in your seat. "Do you have time to walk me back to work?"

"For you, I got all the time in the world," he replied. You rolled your eyes at the corny line, but you couldn't keep the smile from sneaking across your face.

Joel held the door open for you as you stepped out of the Tipsy Bison. You quirked an eyebrow at him as you exited, the corner of your mouth turning up into a half smile.

"Manners," he reminded you, bending his arm and offering you his elbow. You threw your head back and laughed at how far he was taking the joke, but you gave in and tucked your hand into the crook of his arm as he escorted you down the street towards the greenhouse.

"Maria mentioned this mornin' she was gonna have a small party for the town to celebrate the new neighborhood," he said, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, that's a nice idea. It's been such a long winter and we are all sick of being cooped up in each other's houses, it'll be good to have a little fun."

"So, you'll go?" Joel asked, turning his face towards you now.

"Sure, I'll go," you said, squinting up at him, trying to see his face through the bright sunlight. He cleared his throat.

"Would you be my date?" he asked sheepishly. You stopped walking, already finding yourself standing in front of the greenhouse door.

"I'm not sure we've ever been on a date," you said with a smile.

"I'd consider this a date," he said, taking a step towards you.

"I suppose you're right," you agreed, watching his eyes drift to your mouth as you bit your lower lip.

"So, is that a 'yes'?" he asked, raising an arm up to lean against the side of the greenhouse.

"I'd love to," you told him, and he grinned. You leaned up, resting one hand on his shoulder for balance, and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. He turned his head to try to capture your lips, but you had already released his shoulder and backed away.

"Don't want to rile you up," you said over your shoulder, pushing the door open and disappearing inside.

Over the next week, Joel fell into the habit of walking you to and from work every day, since he couldn't meet you for lunch as often as he would have liked. He ended up working through lunch, feeling the pressure to make sure the new neighborhood was ready for the party. It seemed like that's all anyone could talk about around town. The teachers at the school in town even had the kids make decorations. He was making mental notes about what still needed to be done in your house when you swung Maria's door open, greeting him with a warm smile.

"Good morning," you said softly, trying not to disturb Tommy and Maria as you shut the door behind you.

"Mornin'," Joel replied, his hand immediately finding yours at your side as he led you down the street.

"You excited for tonight?" you asked him, but he was distracted, still thinking about your house, wondering if he forgot anything. "Joel?" His tired eyes snapped up to yours, finally processing your question.

"Oh, yeah. Should be fun," he said.

"What's wrong?" you asked, frowning. He shook his head.

"Nothin', just a little anxious. Hopin' I didn't miss anythin'," he explained truthfully, just leaving out the part about your house.

"How have your panic attacks been?" you asked tentatively as you walked side by side.

"Good. Actually haven't had one in about a week," he said, looking down at you. "Wonder why that is."

You smiled and rubbed his arm with your free hand.

"That's good. I'm sure everything will go great, try not to worry too much."

You approached the greenhouse door all too soon, but before Joel could drop your hand, you gave him a small tug.

"I have something for you, do you have a second?" you asked, tilting your head towards the door.

"'Course I do," he said with a grin, and followed you inside, the humidity hitting him like a ton of bricks.

"Jesus, I forgot how warm it is in here," he said, shedding his coat and hanging it by the door next to yours, following you towards the small office in the back of the building.

"Alright, now I don't know how good it is, I was reading some books about how to make tea and I think I got it right. I was going to try some out myself first, but it sounds like you could use it now," you rambled, opening a drawer and rummaging around for a small bag, holding it out to him. He took it gently from your hand, inspecting the dried tea leaves closely.

"It's chamomile. It's supposed to help with anxiety," you explained as he still stared down at the bag in his hands. "I know you prefer coffee, but caffeine just makes anxiety worse so I thought maybe you could give this a try now and then."

He looked up at you now, his eyes round and filled with warmth.

"You did this for me?" he asked softly, and you nodded.

He stepped forward, crowding you against the small desk behind you, and dipped down, his lips slotting against yours. His free hand came up to cup your jaw gently, and your hands drifted to rest on his hips as you sighed against his mouth. His lips were soft and warm, pressing languidly against your own, pouring all the adoration he felt for you into it. The small room was already hot, but the intensity behind his kiss was making it even more so, feeling the sweat beading on the back of your neck. You flicked your tongue against his lips, and you felt him smile, opening his mouth to grant you access.

You slipped your tongue partially into his mouth, pulling a low groan from Joel's throat as his grip on your jaw tightened. His other hand flattened against the desk behind you, pushing you back and causing you to lift your hips so you could sit on the desktop. Joel took another step forward, pushing your knees apart so he could stand between your dangling legs while his tongue licked at the inside of your mouth.

You gasped and tipped your head back, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. He kept his hand firmly on your cheek as his mouth made its way down your jaw before latching onto your pulse point, sucking the skin there and leaving a mark.

"What if I said I also grew some lavender for you?" you whispered with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your skin. He growled against your throat.

"Then I'd say I don't deserve you, and I owe you one," he said as he made his way slowly down to your collarbone.

"Hmm, just one?" you asked breathlessly, rolling your head to the side, and he chuckled.

"As many as you want, sweetheart," he tugged at the collar of your shirt, exposing your shoulder. "Anything you want, I'll give it to you."

You opened your mouth to say all you wanted was him when a loud gasp interrupted you, your eyes snapping open to find Carrie at the doorway, her hand cupped over her mouth, stifling a giggle.

You pushed on Joel's shoulder, causing him to look up at you and follow your gaze.

"Oh, shit, sorry," Joel muttered, stepping away as he ran a hand through his hair.

"That's ok, I'd say we're even now," Carrie said, giving you a wink as Joel picked up the tea he had dropped on the desk behind you. Carrie moved to the side so Joel could exit the office.

"I'll see you tonight," he said, giving you a smirk before heading down the aisle of plants towards the door.

"Looks like you two finally worked things out," Carrie said, raising an eyebrow as she pulled the chair out from the corner of the room to take a seat, looking up at you still perched on the desk.

"Yeah," you said shyly, trying to keep the blush from spreading across your cheeks. "We've been taking it slow."

"That didn't look too slow to me," she teased, and you rolled your eyes, sliding down from the desk to pull on a pair of gloves.

"Come on, let's get going. I don't want to work late tonight, and we have a ton to do," you said, playfully kicking her chair.

"Right, the party. Should be fun!" she said, standing up to follow you over to the vegetables that needed to be harvested and delivered for the party that night.

"Alright, how do I look?" Maria asked as she stepped out of the bathroom. She was wearing a black knee length wrapped skirt with a red V-neck sleeveless blouse. She had just put the finishing touches on her makeup, deciding at the last minute to go with a red lip.

"Amazing!" you said excitedly after you popped your head out into the hallway from your bedroom. "I love red on you, it's definitely your color." She grinned and waved you off, embarrassed at your compliment.

"Are you ready?" she asked as she made her way down the hallway towards your door, fixing an earring as she walked.

"Pretty much," you said, taking one last look in the mirror. You couldn't remember the last time you wore a dress. You used to wear one almost every day at work, but you had been living in jeans for so long that putting the soft, light pink material on felt foreign.

You spun around and looked over your shoulder at the mirror, checking out the back of the dress, which plunged lower than you had expected. Maria gave you a low whistle from the door.

"You're gonna be cold tonight, but damn, it'll be worth it," she said, giving you a grin. "You look incredible." You laughed, thanking her and holding up a light sweater.

"That won't help your legs, but it's better than nothing. C'mon, they should be here any minute," Maria said, turning on her heel, heading into the kitchen. You draped the sweater over your arms and bent down to zip up the booties you had found when you heard a knock on the front door.

You quickly checked what little makeup you had on in the mirror as you heard Maria greet Tommy and Joel, calling out your name and telling you to hurry up. You flicked off the light and hurried into the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, hold your horses," you said as you walked into the room, your eyes immediately finding Joel. He was wearing a white thermal shirt tucked into a dark pair of jeans you didn't recognize, with a black untucked dress shirt left unbuttoned over the top.

"Hey," you said with a smile, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. You could feel how tense his muscles were when you rested your hand on his arm for balance. You leaned back and looked him in the eye, noticing his dark gaze.

"Are you alright?" you murmured to him as Maria fixed Tommy's collar, chatting quietly amongst themselves. "Don't be nervous, it will be fine."

"Not nervous," he said lowly, his eyes raking up and down your body. When you realized you mistook his lust for anxiety, you grinned.

"I wanted to look good for you," you said quietly, your eyes briefly checking in on Tommy and Maria to make sure they couldn't hear you.

"You look so fuckin' beautiful, sweetheart. Fuck, that dress is somethin' else," Joel rambled as his eyes darted all over your body.

"So much for those manners," you teased, but he ignored your joke, pinning you with a dark stare. "You don't look so bad yourself, you know."

He swallowed roughly as he took your dress in one more time, his eyes filled with need.

"You two ready?" Tommy asked, giving you a smile.

"Yep!" you said, grabbing Joel's hand and giving him a tug. "Come on," you urged, looking at him over your shoulder as you followed Tommy and Maria out the front door.

"Lead the way," he murmured, staring at your ass before falling in line next to you on the street.

It was beginning to get a little cold, but Joel's arm around you kept you warm as you made your way to the Tipsy Bison. You figured you would be inside most of the night, anyway, so hopefully the temperature wouldn't be a concern. Maria was chatting about what Seth was serving, the decorations made by the kids in town, and she made sure she had Joel's attention when she mentioned the ribbon cutting ceremony.

"Nah, you can do all that," Joel told her over the top of your head.

"Oh come on, Joel, we wouldn't have been able to do this without you!" Maria pleaded.

"Sure you woulda. You did the first wall before me," he pointed out, and she waved him off.

"Yeah, but it took us forever. You made this happen so much faster, and the town's grateful, Joel," Tommy added. "Just cut the damn ribbon and smile."

Joel grunted as he made his way up the steps to the bar, holding the door open for everyone, then slipped inside, wrapping his arm around your waist as he led you up to the bar.

Maria ended up abandoning you as she mingled with the rest of the town, dragging Tommy along with her. You hummed along to a familiar song blaring from the speakers while Joel ordered you both drinks. His finger traced an invisible pattern on the top of your hand, getting your attention so he could nudge the cold glass of vodka toward you. You picked it up, raising it in the air to clink against his whiskey.

"To Joel Miller, contactor extraordinaire," you said over the music, sipping from your drink. He smiled as he swallowed down a big gulp of his whiskey.

"You sure you're alright?" you asked him, not wanting to dampen the mood, but he seemed nervous.

"Yeah, I'm good," he assured you. His eyes traveled down to your dress, then back up to your face, realizing the perfect deflection was standing right in front of him. "You got me riled up again, is all. Gonna be a long night of tryin' to keep my hands to myself." You took another sip of your drink and leaned forward, closer to his ear.

"What if I didn't want you to keep your hands to yourself?"

He groaned, his hand coming up to rest on your waist.

"You heard 'em, I gotta cut the goddamn ribbon," he muttered as he stared down at you, his brown eyes darkening.

"Hm, that's true. Can't disappoint the town," you said, leaning back a bit to sip on your drink and glance around the room. You smiled as kids ran around playing tag, weaving through the throngs of people in the middle of the room where tables had been pushed to the side so there was room to dance. You spotted Maria across the room talking to an older couple, holding some papers and a marker in her hands, while Tommy stood dutifully beside her, looking bored.

"Ha, poor Tommy. Bet he can't wait til all the schmoozing is over so they can have a little fun," you said with a laugh. You looked back up to Joel and your smile slipped from your face. He hadn't looked away from you once while you had been people watching. His expression was serious, and it was clear something was weighing heavily on his mind.

"Alright, out with it, what's going on with you?" you pushed him with a frown. "I can tell something is wrong."

Just then, a slow song picked up over the speakers, and all the bodies surrounding you that were once loud and jovial turned quieter as people began to pair off to dance.

"Dance with me?" Joel asked, ignoring your question and holding his hand out. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, knowing full well he was trying to distract you, but you gave in anyway, putting your drink on the bar and taking his hand. He led you out to the middle of the room and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close as he held your other hand gently to the side. You brought your free hand up to rest on his shoulder as you gazed up at him, taking a moment to appreciate how handsome he was in that moment, the string lights hanging above the bar illuminating his chiseled jaw and his perfect, crooked nose.

"You're right, you know," he said, looking down at you. "Somethin' is botherin' me."

You frowned, waiting for him to continue.

"These past few months gave me a lot of time to think 'bout what I did," he began, and you wondered why on earth he was bringing that up now. "And I didn't tell you this before 'cause you were goin' through your own stuff, and that was way more important."

He could feel your body slow down in his arms, but he encouraged you to keep dancing.

"But I was talkin' with Tommy, and I think maybe I got some kind of... PTSD from what happened to you in Kansas City. He said soliders he knew in the miliary got it all the time, said what I was feelin' sounded a lot like that." He avoided your gaze as he spoke, embarrassment creeping up, but he took a deep breath and pushed on.

"Anyway, it's no excuse for what I did to Jake that night, but I wanted to tell you. Maybe help you understand what was goin' through my head. I was just so fuckin' terrified of that happenin' to you again that I just saw red." He finally let himself look at you, your eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"Oh, Joel," you whispered, dropping your hand from his shoulder to wrap around his waist, pulling him tight against you as you rested your head on his chest. "I'm so sorry, I never even thought -"

"Shh, don't be sorry," he said, his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Nothin' to be sorry for. I didn't even realize it til recently. And I'm workin' on it, I swear."

"Can I do anything to help?" you asked, pulling back to look up at his face again.

"You already do help. Every day. Just by bein' you," he said, squeezing your hand. "Promise. I'm alright. I just wanted to explain myself."

You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut, resting your head against his chest again.

"Thank you for telling me," you said. "I'll help you work through it, just like you helped me."

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said, giving you a kiss on the top of your head as the song ended. He brushed his thumb along your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. "Now, let's have a fun night, ok?"

You nodded, giving him a small smile as he led you back to your waiting drinks at the bar.

Joel had just ordered you both your second round when Maria turned the music off to get everyone's attention.

"Hope everyone's having a good time tonight!" Maria shouted, which was followed by a chorus of cheers.

"I figured before you all got too drunk, we should get to the main event of the evening," she said, a chuckle rippling through the crowd. "I've got everyone's house assignments right here, but if you all want to head outside first, the kids made a very impressive ribbon for us to cut to mark the special occasion."

Maria gestured toward the door and people began to slowly file out. You dragged Joel behind you, feeling his hesitancy with each step. You tightened your sweater around your shoulders once the cool night air hit you. Joel's arm came up to wrap around you, keeping you warm.

"Maria was right," you muttered to him as you found a spot in the crowd, waiting for her to continue. "This dress is too short." He groaned.

"Don't talk about that right now, I'm about to walk up there in front of everyone," he warned, shifting his weight and keeping his eyes trained straight ahead. You giggled and leaned into his arm.

"Sorry," you whispered.

Once Maria quieted down the crowd, she gave a brief speech about Jackson and how proud she was of the community.

"Every single person in this town had a hand in building what we have here today: a safe, quaint place to live in peace and harmony. And when I say "building", I mean it quite literally when I'm referring to Joel Miller."

Maria reached out an arm towards Joel as he gave a shy wave. The town turned to applaud him, and his grip on your shoulder tightened a fraction.

"Without Joel's help, we wouldn't be looking at expanding to this neighborhood as quickly as we are tonight. Which is why I asked him to come up to cut the ribbon and help usher in a new era for Jackson."

"Go on," you said, giving him a small shove forward as the town smiled and clapped for him. He made his way to the front of the crowd, a few of the men patting him on the back as he went. You watched with your arms wrapped around your body as Joel picked up the gardening shears. He turned to face the town, the shears open and hovering over the ribbon.

"Welcome home," he said, his eyes finding yours. With a smile, he snapped the shears and the ribbon fell, followed by a cheer from the crowd.

"A man of few words," you murmured against his mouth when he made his way back to you, planting a quick kiss to your lips. He shrugged off the black dress shirt he was wearing over his thermal and wrapped it around your shoulders.

"C'mon, I got somethin' to show you," he said, pulling you away from the crowd surrounding Maria, who was giving out house numbers to people waiting in line.

"You know, I've never even explored this part of town before. It's huge," you said, your eyes taking in the wall surrounding the new street. A few families had made their way down already, entering their new homes with squeals of excitement.

"Yeah, hopin' I won't have to build another damn wall for a while," he said, tugging gently on your hand as he rounded a corner.

"Well, wait a minute, I wanted to see the rest of the street first," you protested, looking behind you. But then Joel came to an abrupt stop, making you stumble. You gave him a confused look and followed his gaze, your jaw dropping.

You blinked rapidly a few times, wondering if what you were seeing was real. There before you stood a white two-story house with a wraparound porch, a red door and blue shutters.

The style of the house was different, of course, but you instantly made the connection to the house you stayed at in Hidden Springs. You let your hand slowly drop from his grip as you stared, slack jawed, at the house, taking in every little feature as you stood stock-still on the street.

Joel watched you nervously, his heart thudding in his chest, waiting for your reaction. When a few minutes went by without you saying anything, he cleared his throat.

"It's yours," he said, and you finally turned your head to face him, your expression unreadable. His gaze darted nervously between your eyes, and he swallowed.

"What do you think?"

You looked back at the house to make sure it was still there, like you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Did you... build this porch?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. Well, that part and over there where it wraps around." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes never leaving you.

"Wow," you whispered, shaking your head.

"C'mon, sweetheart, talk to me," he begged, and you dragged your eyes away from the house once more to look at him.

"I love it," you said simply, tears welling in your eyes now as relief washed over him. "I can't believe... it looks so much like the other one," you said, a tear falling down your cheek.

"Well, I made you a promise, and I know how much you wanted to stay in that house," he reached out a hand to brush your tear away with his thumb. Your hand came up to cover his against your face as you looked up into his eyes. You were so overwhelmed with happiness that the tears began to flow steady now.

"This is our home, Joel," you told him tearfully. He smiled, still wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"'Our'?" he repeated hopefully. You nodded, and he leaned down to press a kiss against your lips, his hand sliding back from your cheek, getting tangled in your hair before he pulled away.

"C'mon, I'll show you inside," he said, his hand falling to grasp yours as he led you up the porch steps, your head swiveling around as you walked so you could take in every detail up close.

Joel walked you through the house, pointing out the changes he made as he went, explaining how he knocked out a wall to open up the kitchen and let in more light. You watched him while he spoke, his eyes sparkled with excitement and pride. You could tell he had given this house a lot of thought and time, and it finally occurred to you what was making him so nervous this week. Looking around, you wondered how he could ever think you wouldn't love this place.

He was in the middle of explaining an idea he had to make the pantry bigger when you cut him off.

"Why don't you show me upstairs?" you asked, squeezing his hand as you took a step backwards.

"Sure, okay," he said, his eyebrows raised as you led him to the stairs. Once you got to the top, you turned to him expectantly, and he cleared his throat.

"Well, this house isn't as big as the other one, but you still got an extra room at the end of the hall," he pointed towards a door down on the left. "And this is the master," he said, pushing open the door behind you that was left ajar. He led you inside and flicked the light on by the bed.

"You got a bathroom and a decent sized closet. Again, not as big, but if you need the extra space, maybe you can use the spare bedroom."

"We," you said, correcting him. He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping from your eyes to your mouth.

"We," he confirmed, finally taking a step forward and grabbing your face in both hands, hungrily devouring your mouth with his while your hands raked up his back, pulling him closer. You could feel the desperation and heat rolling off him as his tongue swirled around yours, walking you backwards towards the bed. He pushed his shirt from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before breaking the kiss. You sat on the mattress and crawled backwards up the bed, your eyes never leaving his while he watched you, his lips parted.

"C'mere," you said impatiently, your head resting on the pillow.

"Just takin' a minute," he said, his eyes dark as he swallowed roughly. "Been waitin' a long time for this."

You sat up and reached behind you, tugging at the zipper of the dress, but he stopped you.

"Leave it on," he said gruffly, finally leaning forward and crawling up the bed, pushing you back down with his body. His mouth latched onto your neck as his hand slid up your thigh, under your dress, and squeezed at the meaty part of your hip. You moaned softly under him, your hands coming up to rake through his hair.

"Joel," you whimpered, lifting your hips up greedily towards him. He seemed to understand since he hooked his fingers around your underwear, giving them a quick yank. He pulled them from your ankles and dangled them between you, shaking his head.

"You might've ruined these pretty little panties of yours," he murmured, showing you the soaked fabric before he shoved them in the back pocket of his jeans. All you could manage to do was watch him with half closed eyes, your chest heaving as you waited for his touch.

He ran both hands up your legs, resting them temporarily on the inside of your thighs before flattening your legs with his palms, exposing your aching center to the cool air. You gripped the pillow behind your head when he ran his thumb up the length of your seam, drawing out a low moan from your throat.

"Shit," he hissed when he felt the pool of arousal waiting for him. He ran his thumb down again, dipping inside briefly to collect some of the wetness there, then dragged it up to your swollen clit, circling slowly, his open palm pressed against your thigh.

You slid your eyes closed and rolled your head to the side with a sigh while his thumb continued its pace. You yearned for his hands for so long that even the smallest touch was setting your nerves on fire.

He watched your face closely, reading the cues he had come to know so well.

You let out a frustrated whine and arched your back, your eyes opening to lock onto his.

"I know, sweetheart, I got you," he said lowly, turning his hand so he could push a finger inside you while his thumb remained pressed on your clit. He always knew exactly what you needed with every sound you made and every thrust of your hips. You cursed and tipped your head back as he pumped his finger inside a few times before adding a second. You rewarded him with a delicious gasp, your hips rocking against his hand. He smirked, his free hand grasping the side of your hip, helping you move against him.

"That's it, c'mon," he said, his gaze dark and transfixed on your face as he watched you come undone. Your breaths were becoming ragged, your jaw slack. He could tell you were close. He pumped his fingers faster, burying them all the way to his knuckles, and applied a firmer pressure to your clit, wiggling his thumb back and forth now in lieu of circles.

"Fuck! Joel, please," you cried out, your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped for air.

"Look at me," he grunted, still rocking your hip up and down on his hand. Your eyes flew open and locked onto him, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched you.

"That's right, eyes on me," he panted. He saw the flush creeping up your chest and neck as you bit down on your lip. "No need to be shy, now. It's just us."

He curled his fingers inside you and your jaw dropped back open, but your eyes remained on him. He felt your muscles tighten around his fingers and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Let go for me," he told you, his pace relentless, and you moaned. "C'mon, I know you're close, aren't you? Fuck, been wantin' to do this since the moment I saw you in this little dress. Come all over my fingers, then I'm gonna make you come again on my cock, d’you understand?"

"Fuck, Joel, ohmygod!" you cried, his words doing you in as your walls clamped down around his fingers and your back arched off the bed. He loosened his grasp on your hip, rubbing the skin there gently to make sure he didn't hurt you as his fingers and thumb slowed down.

"Good girl," he murmured, removing his thumb from your clit before you became overly sensitive, but he gave you a few more slow thrusts with his fingers before sliding them out.  You watched lazily as he popped his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them off before he leaned down to slip his tongue inside your mouth to give you a taste.

"Take this off now," he commanded, pulling gently at the top of your dress. You immediately sat up and fumbled with the zipper, his strong hand sliding down your exposed back to help pull it down. You shrugged the top of the dress down, exposing your naked chest, and lifted your hips so he could pull it down your legs. He kneeled next to you on the bed, panting, as he took in your naked form.

"Your turn," you told him, yanking at the waistband of his jeans. He blinked, then untucked his thermal shirt before lifting it over his head and tossing it on the floor. He quickly unbuckled his belt, his eyes never leaving your body, and pushed his jeans and boxers off, crawling back between your legs and hovering over you.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, nipping at your jaw while he slowly thrusted his hips, dragging his leaking cock over your stomach, desperate to feel your skin.

"I want you, Joel," you whimpered. You felt him smile, then his face dipped lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and chest until he reached your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. You gasped, arching your back to push your breasts into him further while his hand pinched your other nipple. You felt his teeth graze your skin gently before he released, moving over to give the other one the same attention.

"Joel," you gasped, squirming underneath him. He ignored you, still lavishing attention on your tits, so you tried a different approach.

"Baby, please, I want you to fuck me," you murmured. The combination of your pet name for him and your request made him growl, his mouth abandoning your chest. His hand gripped your jaw, holding your mouth open as his tongue darted inside your mouth hungrily, playfully biting your lower lip when he pulled away and released your jaw.

"Since you asked so nicely," he said, running his nose alongside yours affectionately as he reached down between you both, lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance, then brought his arm back up to rest next to your head.

"You alright?" he asked softly as he felt your body tense in anticipation, searching your eyes while tracing a finger down your cheek. You nodded, bringing your hands up to wrap around each of his shoulders, spreading your legs wider.

He lightly brushed his lips against yours as he slowly pressed himself inside you. You exhaled harshly at the sensation, enjoying the slight sting as he kept pushing his cock into you. He released a strangled groan once he bottomed out, dropping his forehead against your shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Oh, fuck, I missed that," he gasped against your skin, and you hummed in response, rotating your hips a bit as you adjusted to his size.

"Me too," you whispered as you felt yourself relax around him. He took a breath, then began to rock his hips gently, languidly dragging his cock in and out of you while he peppered small kisses along your collarbone. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, your eyes sliding shut, focusing on how perfectly he fit inside you.

"Tell me how it feels," he mumbled against your neck, his hips keeping their slow, gentle pace.

"Good," you told him. "You always feel so good," you sighed, a lazy smirk spilling across his face.

"You know you won't break me, right?" you teased, and he shook his head.

"I know, just not in any rush. Wanna take my time, wanna feel you," he said with a groan, then slowed to a stop. He pushed himself up by his hands, hovering over you, a layer of sweat already coating his chest and neck.

You let out a pathetic whine at the loss of contact, staring up at him with a confused look.

He didn't say a word, just stared deep into your eyes for a moment before snapping his hips once into you, making you squeak.

"You want it like that?" he asked you, snapping his hips again, eliciting the same response. Your hands gripped the sheets as he looked down at you, his eyes dark. He did it a third time, leaving you panting as you stared up at him.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I know what you like," he said softly, his hands traveling to your sides as he shifted his weight to his knees. He rolled his hips against you roughly, pulling your own hips into him. You let out an appreciative groan and your eyes fluttered shut once his coarse hair made contact with your clit.

"There we go," he said, watching your reaction as he continued. "How's that? This what you need?"

"Yes," you gasped, his grip on you tightening. "Fuck, yes, Joel," you moaned, tipping your head back as he picked up the pace, still rolling his hips perfectly into you.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful like this," he grunted. "Always take my cock so well."

You moaned at the praise, goosebumps prickling your skin as you felt your second orgasm building.

"More," you whimpered, looking back up at him now. His neck was red and splotchy, and his eyes burned with desire.

"More what, sweetheart?" he croaked, still rolling himself in and out of you at the same steady pace. "Use your words, tell me."

"Deeper," you gasped. "I want your cock deeper and faster. Please."

At hearing your words, he groaned, falling forward on his hands again but quickly hooked his fingers under one of your knees and pressed it as far back against your chest as he could.

He leaned forward, sinking himself impossibly deeper into you, making you cry out from the intense angle.

"How's that feel?" he asked again, thrusting into you much faster now.

"Full," you choked out, barely able to string a sentence together. "So full, don't stop, please don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he told you, panting for air as he kept up the brutal pace. He leaned down further to scrape his teeth against your jaw before planting a bruising kiss on your lips, muffling your sounds.

He felt your walls clenching around him, his groan lost in the sea of your cries as you babbled his name mixed with curses. Your hands came up to his arms and you dug your fingers into his muscles.

"Joel," you whined, your eyes flicking to his, trying to silently communicate what you needed.

"I got you," he said. He withheld his usual demand to 'use your words', and instead brought his hand between your bodies. He found your clit, pressing quick, firm circles as he watched your face closely. When he saw your eyebrows pinch together, he switched from circles to rubbing his finger back and forth on your bundle of nerves, drawing out another orgasm from you almost instantly.

"That's it, that's my girl. Fuck, you're so pretty when you come. Look at you, so perfect."

"Joel!" You wailed, arching your back. Your nails most certainly leaving marks on his arms as you dug them in harder, gasping for breath as you came back down to earth. His hand slowed before he removed it entirely, placing it back down on the bed next to you.

"You feel so good, comin' on my cock like that," he gritted out, your mind hazy as he chased his release.

He had pushed your knee back so your leg was straight, so you wrapped both your legs around his waist, pulling him into you as close as you could.

"You always make me feel so good, baby," you murmured, your hands reaching up to his hair. His thrusts were becoming sloppy as you gently scraped your nails against his scalp, making him whimper.

"No one's ever made me feel this good, did you know that?" you asked, bringing him to the edge with your voice. He shook his head, then let his forehead drop to your shoulder as his hips began to stutter. Your cunt was growing sore now from the overstimulation, but you ignored it.

"I've never felt this way about anybody before," you continued, whispering into his ear, and he bit down gently on your neck.

"Give it to me," you said, louder now. "Come for me, Joel."

A deep groan rumbled from his chest, and as if he was waiting for your permission, quickly pulled out, spilling his warm spend all over your stomach.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, his features slack as he watched the last of his cum shoot out across your skin. He looked up at you, both panting for air and covered in sweat.

"Fuck," he repeated, leaning back and running a hand through his hair, eyes drifting to your stomach again.

He resisted the urge to collapse next to you, afraid if he did, he would never get back up. Instead, he pushed himself off the bed and into the bathroom. Your head rolled lazily to the side as you watched him fumble around in the linen closet to find a washcloth, dampening it at the sink before returning to you.

He leaned over the side of the bed and gently cleaned you up, then used the washcloth on himself before tossing it over the side of the tub and coming back to bed, flopping down naked next to you.

"I don't have any of my things here," you said, staring at the ceiling.

"I'll get your stuff in the mornin'," he said hoarsely, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. "You ain't goin' anywhere tonight."

You giggled as you pulled at the sheets, tossing them haphazardly over you both before leaning back into his embrace.

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you thought of was warm. You were so unbelievably warm, Joel's body like a furnace against you, never letting you go throughout the night. You could feel his deep breaths against your neck, telling you he was still fast asleep. Your eyes flickered to the window, trying to judge the time based on how light it was outside. You figured it was pretty early. Unfortunately, the urge to pee was not allowing you to stay tucked into bed much longer, so you slowly and carefully extracted yourself from Joel's arms, shoving your pillow next to him instead, then tiptoed to the bathroom, scooping up his boxers and black dress shirt along the way.

The second thought that hit you once you stood was sore. Deliciously sore from last night. And when you stood in front of the mirror to button up Joel's shirt, you noticed bite marks left all over your shoulder and collarbone, the sight making you bite down on your lip. You didn't want to admit it, but there was something undeniably sexy about the way he left his mark on you.

You cracked the bathroom door open and peered out, finding Joel exactly where you left him. You were too awake and too excited to finally be in your own house, so you slipped out the bedroom door and headed downstairs.

You wandered aimlessly around your kitchen, opening the mostly empty cupboards and drawers until you found a lone can of ground coffee stored right above the coffee maker. You pulled the can down and scooped the grounds into the filter, filling up the reservoir with water and hitting the button to brew. In the pantry you found an old sleeve of disposable paper cups, so you grabbed two and set them on the counter.

As you waited for the coffee to finish, you looked around the living room, reading a few titles of books left behind on bookshelves before leaning against the window frame, looking out onto the quiet street. You smiled when you noticed the swing at the end of the porch, and at the same time you heard the coffee finish brewing.

You poured a cup of coffee and then snatched a blanket from the back of the couch as you headed out the front door, quietly closing it behind you. You shivered at the cool morning air; your legs still bare. You sat down on the wooden swing and draped the soft blanket over you, holding the coffee in your hands to help warm you up.

The street was quiet, the town most likely all recovering from the night before. You took a few sips of coffee, wincing when it burned your tongue. It only took about fifteen minutes before you saw movement through the living room window. Joel stepped out of the front door and rounded the corner in his jeans and thermal from the night before, holding his own cup of coffee.

"May I join you?" he asked with a grin, which you returned, and scooted down on the swing to make room.

He slung his arm over the back of the swing, and you leaned against his chest, breathing in his scent mixed with the early morning dew.

"What are you thinkin' about?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I was just thinking about this one time in the woods, after we had to leave the other house, we sat against a tree just like this drinking coffee. Do you remember?"

"The day we first said 'I love you'," he said immediately, and your eyes shot up to his in surprise. "What? I remember things," he said defensively, and you laughed.

"Well, I remember wishing we were on the porch at the old house drinking coffee instead of in the middle of the woods, fighting for our lives," you told him, his hand moving from the back of the swing to squeeze your shoulder.

"And now?" he asked you, his eyes sparkling.

"And now you've made that wish come true," you said, gazing at him adoringly.

"Thank you," you whispered, nuzzling your face against his chest. He rubbed your arm affectionately and sipped his coffee.

"Anythin' for you, sweetheart," he said, leaning back into the swing as he watched a few people slowly begin to emerge from their houses and trudge down the street.

Contentment washed over you as he held you against him on the porch he built for you, in the town he fought like hell to get you to, and living the life he promised you as you watched the sun rise together, welcoming the next phase of your lives.

Epilogue

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, like, reblog, comment, follow .... basically anything! It makes me so happy that anyone even took a chance to read this, I started this story thinking it was just going to be for me to read, and I am beyond happy so many of you like it, as well. I really hope I did these characters justice for you! And I do plan on writing a little Epilogue (hint: Yellowstone) and some one-shots in the future!

Again, thank you so much!

[sunny44]

Marriage (Part 8)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader

Warnings: fights and that’s it

Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.

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I didn't have the courage to take the test.

It had been two days since the event, and I sat on the bed, staring at a pregnancy test kit, trying to gather the courage to use it.

Mason was at training, and despite being invited by Red Bull and wanting to avoid Max, Mason's media team insisted that attending the Monaco GP would be good for his image.

That was the reason for our trip.

I used the opportunity when I needed to pee and took the test. Once done, I put it back in the box and tossed it into my bedside table.

I spent the day working to distract myself. I only realized it was evening when I felt a kiss on my forehead.

"Been here all day?" he asked.

"Yeah, had a lot of work," I replied.

"Have you eaten?"

"I only noticed the time because you arrived," I said. He chuckled and kissed my forehead again.

"Well, then I'll get something for us to eat, and you stay right there."

I continued working until he left, only stopping when he returned and we had dinner.

After we finished, we went to the bedroom. I took a shower while he got ready to sleep.

"Love, can I borrow your charger? Can't find mine." he asked.

"Sure, it's in my bedside table, first drawer." I shouted back.

After drying my hair, doing my skincare and getting dressed, I went to the room. Mason was sitting on the bed with a paper in hand and a displeased expression.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Mind explaining what this is?" He stood up and practically threw the paper at me.

It was the letter.

I took a deep breath, realizing Mason had found the letter. The atmosphere in the room shifted, filled with unspoken tension.

"Mason, I..." I began, but he interrupted.

"Just explain what the hell this is." he insisted, eyes fixed on the letter.

I walked over, took the paper, and glanced at the content. I hadn't read it since he handed it to me. It probably contained words and apologies Max wanted me to know, and my heart raced.

"It's a letter." I stated the obvious, trying to buy time to gather my thoughts.

"I can see that." he replied with a touch of frustration. "But it's a letter apologizing and also a letter saying he still loves you."

Taking another deep breath, I decided to be honest.

"Max wrote this letter to me some time ago."

"How long ago?"

"Do you remember when I told you I became friends with Lando?" He nodded. "We hung out that time because he insisted on introducing me to his best friends that ended up being Max and Daniel."

"What does that have to do with the letter?" He asked, frustrated.

"After the party that he introduced us he talked to Lando about what happened. He made him help him meet me to apologize. So, he said he wrote this letter and handed it to me, but I didn't have the courage to open it."

"And why did you keep it?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe one day I'd have the courage to read it and that’s why I kept it. Perhaps I felt I needed a reminder of how things were before."

His expression changed from frustration to anger.

"You kept a letter from your ex in our house? Are you serious?"

"I was unsure what to do with it and couldn't bring myself to throw it away, so I kept it. It's a piece of the past I kept hidden."

"Why hide it, then? Why keep secrets from me?" Mason's frustration grew. "You lied again about this. Not long ago, you argued with me for defending you and then you do this, keeping his things."

"I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn't want to burden you with my past." I explained.

He sighed, clearly upset.

"Y/n, we promised transparency. Keeping something like this from me... hurts."

"I'm sorry, Mason. I should have told you about this and I know this now." I admitted, feeling a pang of guilt.

"But it's always going to be like this, isn't it? You lie to me about him, and it makes me think you still love him even after he left you at the altar like an idiot," he said angrily. "You were supposed to tell me about him years ago and then when I found out on the internet I’ve try to be cool with it because I saw how much it hurts you, even if I was angry that you e lied to me. And now this, im your fiancé and u was supposed to be the one you trust to tell me this things but apparently lying to me it’s easier for you.

“I’m sorry.”

“I honestly don't know if I can still do this."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know if I can marry you." I felt tears fill my eyes. "I don't know if I can marry someone who lies to me."

"Mason, I..."

"I need some time." He left the room, leaving me there alone.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“So much work that I’m starting to get crazy”

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @christianpulisic10 @gaslysainz @fanboyluvr @urgirlceci @justdreamersdream @aundercoverosh @newlifeforus @depressedriches @topguncultleader @luvrrish @tyna-19 @esposadomd @formulas-bitch

[judgementdayslittle]

How The Judgement Day treat Little!Reader who had a bad caregiver before them

In the past I had a kind of sort of caregiver who didn't treat me very well. So this is very therapeutic for me! I hope it's the same for y'all ❤️

-When TJD found out you were a little, they were nothing but supportive!

-You were happy to have new caregivers, but you were also still healing from how you were treated before.

-When you were little, you kept for distance for a while. Afraid that maybe they didn't want to deal with a little right now.

-Even if Dom is little, you figure that means it'll be a bother to them to deal with another little.

-It didn't take long for your caregivers to notice you were acting distant. So they tried to ease you into trusting them.

-The group decided Rhea should warm you up first since she's the least scary looking one of the three

-It starts with Mami offering you snacks and drinks.

-"Mami noticed you haven't been eating much lately. Are there any particular snacks that you like?"

-It takes a little bit, but eventually you start eating. It starts with snacks left at your bedroom door. Then slowly, you eat at the table, with just her for now.

-Slowly Dom joins in too. You two start playing together when your both in little space.

-Next Finn slowly joined in on the play sessions. The silly voices he makes with the toys makes little you laugh. Thus you start to get closer to him as well.

-Finally, there's Damian.

-His stature and deep voice make him seem a little bit scary. No matter how many times Dom tells you about how great of a papi he is.

-It takes a little more of a push to get close to him. Mami and Dada suggest you guys help him cook dinner.

-You're a little scared at first. Shaking in your little baby boots even. What if you mess up and he yells at you?

-You're so shaken that you accidentally drop some eggs on the floor.

-Horrified, you start tearing up, apologizing over and over again.

-But there was no yelling, no shouting.

-Instead Damian ruffled your hair.

-"It's alright, it was just an accident. You're okay."

-That just sets off all the water works.

-All the caregivers freak out and keep reassuring you everything's alright. Which just makes you cry more.

-You're then brought to the couch by Mami, followed by Finn, Damian, and a waddling Dom.

-Cuddle puddle time!

-Once you calm down, you explain why you were crying.

-How your past caregiver wasn't good. How they would force you to either be big at times, or to go hide in your bedroom when they didn't want to deal with you being little. How they got mad at you for little mistakes.

-They knew that your last caregiver was bad, but they didn't know it was that bad.

-They promised you that they would always want you around. That you will never be a burden to them, and how You're allowed to make mistakes.

-You start tearing up again, and the cuddle puddle continues!

-In the end, all five of you grow closer for this. And now you have the best caregivers a baby could ask for!

[mikachacha]

𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: You're the newest addition to Wolf'Lo and is Bada's girlfriend. You're pretty much new to the hiphop and dance scene, not much is known about you so when your team joined Street Woman Fighter, you got the second highest 'no respect' votes from other teams.

Warnings: idk slight angst if you squint enough?? Bada doesn't give a damn attitude and cursing

(A/N: I'm working on the requests after that series because damn i have a lot 😭 and thanks anon for being so patient. I mean this req is like a month ago 🤧🤧)

🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊🦊

"Hey, hey it's okay Y/N. We just prove that you're more than a pretty face and that you're actually good at what you do." Halo comforted you as you were on the verge of crying since you got the highest no respect vote in your group. You kinda expected it but it still hurt you and you felt like you're a huge burden to your group.

"I'm really sorry.. I promise I'll do my best to get wins for us.." you told your team and they hugged you. Chocol, Yeni and Haechi tried their best to cheer you up while Mini brushed and braided your hair gently in an attempt to calm you down and Baby Sleek trying to pep talk you. You really love your team since they felt like family to you, they care so much for one another and are just really good support system.

When it was time for you to battle, it wasn't pretty. You did get some wins but there are times you lost. After each loss, you felt like you just died inside and all you wanted to do was run and hide away, too ashamed to face anyone, to ashamed to face your group and to face your girlfriend, Bada Lee.

Bada watched you battle against other participants. She's extremely proud of you whether you won or lost but she's also very worried about you as she could see tears brimming your eyes at every loss you took. She knows you're hating yourself and thinking you didn't give enough, that maybe you really weren't built for a life of competition and all Bada wanted to do is run up to you and just hold you close, reassure you that you did great and that she's extremely proud of you.

When you were finally done, you immediately ran up to your group and began to sob on their arms. You felt like a failure, you had more loss than wins and you feel like you could've done better. Your teammates tried to calm you down but you kept crying and blaming yourself for not doing enough, apologizing to them for losing. They felt helpless and seeing you crying really pains them. You're like the baby of the group and they love you like a real sister so it pains them to see you that way.

Bada couldn't bear just watching you cry so without even thinking, she just ran up to where you sat with your group and just held you tight. She doesn't give fuck if the camera caught that or if people are watching. What matters to her is you and only you. She pressed kisses against your head and just rubbed you back, whispering sweet nothings until you were finally calm enough to look at her and your team, all looking so worried about you.

"You okay, Y/N? Aigoo.. You really cried a lot and we're panicking because we couldn't calm you down.." Mini asked and you nodded your head, still sniffling. Yeni handed you your water bottle while Bada assisted you in drinking. Other teams were looking, a bit confused about what's going on and why the hell Bada ran up there to your rescue.

"You did great, okay? You did so great and we're extremely proud of you. You did everything you could but it's a competition, sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. What's important is we enjoyed." Halo smiles and pats your head while you wiped your tears away. Bada gave you a tight hug before wrapping her jacket around you.

"Listen to your unnies, my baby. We're very proud of you, I'm very proud of you. You did so well and you definitely proved that you're not just pretty, you're also a very good dancer. I'm gonna go back to my team for now, okay? But I'll come pick you up from your hideout later so I can take you out on a date because you deserve it so much." Bada's words brought a smile to your face and you nodded eagerly. She chuckles and went back to her team who teased their leader for being so whipped for you.

"We were all confused as to where you ran off to and then we saw you hugging Y/N-unnie.. I'm not gonna be surprised if a clip of you doing that ends up on instagram and the choom's YouTube channel." Tatter said and Bada just playfully rolled her eyes at her team. Her cool image is definitely out now when she did that but she doesn't care. She just loves you and cares about you a lot. Comforting you on her bad days is so worth over any reputation she have.

The filming for the day concluded, your team gave you lots of hugs before sending you off with Bada after you all decided to go have some barbecue the next day for lunch to celebrate because your team pretty much did a good job during the battles. Bada ruffles your hair and wrapped an arm around your waist as you made your way to where she parked her car. She wanted to treat you out since she knows that you're tired and still very emotional from earlier.

"You really think I did good earlier?" You asked Bada as she was driving. She reached for your hand and gave it a kiss. She knew you're still doubting yourself from what happened. It pains her but it's all part of being a dancer and life in general. It's not a smooth sailing ride.

"You did more than good, babe. You did so well.. Kyma even wanted you to teach her because she found your style really cool." She replied and you smiled, shaking your head in amusement.

"I may recruit Kyma in my team. You better watch your back now." you joked which made Bada laugh and playfully pinched your cheek. She's glad that you're okay now and she's glad that she's still able to make you laugh despite everything.

[artemish]

Sous chef: part 2 | opla!Sanji x fem!Reader

word count: 3.8k

genre/tags: Sanji x reader; first-person pov; fluff; pining (but is it mutual??); angst; hurt/comfort; friends to lovers

warnings: brief anxiety mention

summary: following their late night kitchen heart to heart, things become more complicated when the other Strawhats take notice…

a/n: thankful for the support for the last part! ♥️

Continuing my low key self indulgent series hehe.. 🤭 It took me longer than I wanted to write this next part but I was determined and here we are lol 😅

taglist 💕 @vespidphoenix @dark-academia-slut

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰!

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

“Nami, we are just friends.”

I stated this as matter-of-factly as I could.

“Right, and Zoro likes tea with his lunch instead of beer. Cut the shit, y/n.”

Our sweet navigator hadn’t budged from the spot she was judging me from.

Her eyes were determined to pierce through my shield, but I held fast. I flapped my arms up, exasperated by the fact that she kept pushing.

“Look, I couldn’t sleep so I came to the kitchen, I fell really hard and Sanji helped me feel better, that’s all.”

She smirked, “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

“No,” I scoffed in disgust, “not like that. He was also awake, taking note of our supplies, before I came in, got knocked by the swell, and he patched me up. Then we were talking for some time, and I guess we were both more tired than I thought. Just fell asleep, right then and there.”

“Look,” she said, standing up, placing her hands on her hips, “as much as I love him, I would love him even more if I didn’t have him flirting my way. So if he’s into you now, well that makes me a very happy woman who can finally navigate this boat in peace. That being said, I would still like to know what’s going on between you-“

“There’s nothing going on,” I snapped, “and there never will be.”

I didn’t intend to come off so aggressively and I saw her step back when she heard the anger in my voice.

“Sorry,” I breathed, “didn’t mean to get worked up like that.”

But she took no notice of my apology and pointed at me saying, “Does this have to do with the thing you still won’t tell me about? Is that what’s been holding you back?”

I rubbed my forehead with my hand, “yeah, it is.”

She shook her head and crossed her arms, as her frustration reached its peak.

“You know,” she said, this time with a knowing smirk, “secrets come out. They always do. With time and through fate, they always come out. I mean just look at me. I thought I had it all worked out, thought I could keep my secrets to myself.

“But what Luffy taught me, what this whole crew taught me, is that you shouldn’t have to carry your burdens alone. Secrets are better shared with those who can share the load.”

“I know, Nami,” I sighed, “but I can’t tell you, nor the crew, least of all Sanji. You know how he gets.”

“You know you can trust us, but you still don’t want to tell us? Why?”

“I can’t answer that.”

She looked up at the ceiling, as if asking the gods for help, but of course she got no reply.

“I’m not going to get anywhere with you on this, am I?” she sighed. I shook my head.

She paced about the room as I sat back down on my futon, bringing my knees up to my face. She sat down next to me, letting out a big sigh as she did.

“I’m sorry, Nami, but I promise when the time is right I’ll tell you.”

She glared back at me and looked like she was about to say something, but was cut off from a voice outside our door.

“Nami, have you seen y/n around? I’m trying to- oh. You’re here”

Sanji stood in our doorway, looking a bit flustered but still managing to flash us a wide grin.

“Morning ladies, you’re both looking as lovely as a golden sunrise on a calm sea.”

Nami and I rolled our eyes in unison.

“Morning Sanji, had a good sleep did we?” Nami poked, and I felt my cheeks flush red.

“It was good,” he sighed, “until the chill set in and I realised I was alone in the kitchen.”

“Oh,” she said, “were you with someone last night?”

I could have strangled her right then.

“What, oh no, I was ugh, counting beans and I must’ve dozed off. Didn’t realise I wasn’t in my cabin, you know with the others, yeah.”

“Counting… beans?” I could see her fighting every urge to cackle at his pathetic explanation.

“Ugh, yeah,” he stumbled through his words again, “the beans in the barrel. Coffee beans, green beans, soy beans-“

“Well, you should borrow a blanket or a shawl next time to stay warm, in case you fall asleep again. Y/n has a spare one, you should ask her next time.”

I shoved her shoulder and saw her biting down hard on her lip.

“I might,” he said, looking at me then, “as long as I know she’s keeping warm too.”

I couldn’t take this back and forth any longer, and I couldn’t stand the sight of him in the doorway, looking like a lovesick puppy dog waiting for a bone.

“Sanji,” I said finally, “hi, hello, good morning. Why are you here?”

“Oh well, madam, I was actually looking for you.”

“Me? Why were you looking for me?”

“Well, I’m taking you up on that offer, since breakfast is a big one today.”

“Offer? What offer?”

“You being my sous chef, remember?”

Shit, I thought, I’d forgot, I’m screwed!

“Oh of course, yes, just let me ugh change into something more chef-like. Yeah.”

“Alright, my swan, I’ll start prepping while you get ready.”

He flashed us both a grin and walked back to the kitchen, completely missing Nami’s face of pure joy.

It was as if what she had just witnessed between us was better than any treasure she could ever imagine to find in all the four seas and no amount of berry could be used to describe how much she enjoyed that.

Nami stretched out on my futon, exhaling loudly. She rested her head on my lap, and stared wistfully up at the ceiling. I was numb to her and everything around me.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

Ever since we met him at the Baratie, she noticed how he would go that little bit further with me, how his hugs lingered longer, and how his words were kinder.

And she had constantly reminded me of this fact.

“Even if I never get to know all your secrets,” she said quietly, “at least I can hold this one against you. You know, he only cuts your carrots into heart shapes, when he makes us soup.”

“Really?”, I lied, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Can you even cook?” she asked after another silent moment had passed between us.

I looked down at her. She knew what I was going to say.

“No.”

I changed into some black slacks and a t-shirt, and headed over to the kitchen.

The room was alive with the sounds of rashers of bacon sizzling intensely on the pan, the crackling of flames within the stone oven and the soft, rhythmic thumping of metal on wood. Smoke rose from the stove and the oven, hanging in the air and carrying the sweet scent of bread, the earthy aroma of mushrooms, butter and thyme, and salted meat to every corner of the room.

Sanji had his back to me as he sliced through potatoes in halves then quarters and then smaller still, probably for hash browns.

He moved the knife intently, with a ferocity that seemed barely human, and yet the potato pieces did not come out mangled or broken as one would expect from such intensity, but instead in perfect little cubes, each evenly portioned to form the hash shapes. To say I was intimidated was an understatement.

“Doesn’t really look like you need my help here.” I had moved back towards the doorway unconsciously, perhaps hoping I could get out unscathed.

“On the contrary, y/n,” he said over his shoulder, “I’m swamped this morning and your help would be invaluable.”

I couldn’t let him see how deeply underprepared I was, or how concerning it was that I had gotten this far in life without ever making a real meal or that I lacked any and every culinary skill there was. But it was too late now.

“Oh, ugh, are you sure? I mean you look like-“

“Grab that apron over there and come over.” He pointed to an apron hanging near the doorframe, without looking back at me, and continued to make his way slicing through various other vegetables he was adding to the meal. I begrudgingly put it on.

“Can you please crack those eggs over there into that bowl?”

He pointed to a large silver bowl that was on the counter, right of where he was dealing with the vegetables and meats.

“We’re going to make omelettes and everything else will go with them. We have to get as much as we can from this batter since we also have to eat, not just Luffy, so don’t worry about adding an egg or two extra.”

He smiled, and I melted like the butter in a pan at the sight of him.

I stood beside him and stared down at the eggs in the carton, and at the others stacked against the wall.

I felt my palms tingle and swell with moisture as I tried to move my hand to pick up an egg. In an instant, I felt my throat dry up, and I felt a rising surge of heat from within me flush over my cheeks and a ripple of panic pulse through my chest.

Thump, thump, thump, THUMP.

The sound of my own heartbeat flooded my ears and nothing else.

My breath quickened and I became acutely aware of it, and tried to take in air in small, pulsating breaths. I didn’t even notice that he had stopped cooking and had in fact turned me to face him, holding my shoulders and calling my name.

“Y/n, are you alright? Can you hear me? Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay, y/n.”

But I couldn’t hear him. My vision blurred over, as my eyelids flickered sporadically. It was then that he stopped calling out to me, perhaps realising that it was no use in this state, and just held me steady, rubbing my arms as he did.

My mouth still gaped wide, trying to take in breath but my breathing slowly evened out as he held me.

Gods, I thought, this is what I panic about?

“Sanji,” I felt my mind returning, “Sanji. Oh, my gods, Sanji, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he said, “don’t apologise. Are you okay?”

He stepped back, keeping one arm on me still, and reached for a glass of water. I faced the floor, too quickly perhaps, as my head felt so light.

“I should’ve told you upfront,” I began, “that I don’t know how to cook, that I’ve never learnt or tried to, or rather had the patience to, and I’ve just survived on the cooking of others. I shouldn’t have offered to be your sous chef last night, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Woah, hey, it’s alright, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, oh my gods. The truth is… I’m terrified.”

I could see a slight smirk appear on his face as he listened to me.

“Of me or of cooking?,’ he chuckled, “and please, don’t say me.”

“What if I said both?” I said, sheepishly.

“Well, then I’d say you have nothing to be afraid of and I can teach you how to handle both.”

I felt my breath catch again as butterflies began to flutter and whirl violently around inside me, and I thought about how he could probably heat the pan with my face from the heat that radiated off my red cheeks.

“Sanji, stop that, I-I really know nothing about cooking. I don’t even know what to do with these eggs.” That seemed to get a genuinely worried reaction out of him, as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“You don’t know how to crack an egg?”

“Oh, I didn’t even know that's what you wanted me to do with them.”

“How else would you make an omelette? How else… would they get in the bowl?”

I was silent. He inhaled deeply as he studied me with those sparkling blue eyes. A moment of realisation seemed to seize him then, as he guided me to the bench and sat me down.

He handed me the glass of water, made a motion with his hand for me to drink, and as I tipped the cooling swell down my throat he said, “I’m sorry if I made you anxious. I didn’t know you couldn’t cook, m’lady.

“Please, if you’re not comfortable, don’t feel like you have to stay here or like I’m forcing you to be here, it’s alright really, but just know that… well I do like your company all the same.”

Before I could speak, he put his hand up to gesture to wait, stepped away quickly to grab the bacon and mushroom mix in the pan off the stove, and put out the flames from the oven before coming back to squat down on his haunches in front of me, holding the bench to keep him steady.

He must’ve noticed how big my eyes looked staring at him.

He reached out his free hand hesitantly but I took it in both my hands, perhaps a little too eagerly, as he wobbled from being surprised by my grip.

“Sorry,” I said, helping him balance, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because, well, I was embarrassed. You’re such an incredible cook and everything you make is so brilliant and delicious, I just couldn’t say no to you last night. But I feel like an idiot now, I should’ve just told you.”

I could’ve sworn I saw his cheeks turn pink as I spoke. I fidgeted nervously with the fingers of his hand, feeling the coarseness of his fingertips and how soft his palms were in comparison.

“You know,” he began, “if you wanted to learn, all you had to do was ask, madam. But tell me, how’d you survive without cooking then?”

“I mostly ate whole foods,” I said, “things like bread, all sorts of bread, fruits, wheels of cheese and dried meats, things I knew would keep or could be eaten quickly. And if I had a pot, anything I could just chuck in with a bit of salt and pepper. Better to survive on that then nothing at all.”

He smiled a soft smile and brought his other hand to where our hands were and pulled me up to stand as he did. I had to look up as he said, “Well today I’m going to teach you how to crack an egg, and maybe make an omelette.”

I sat on a stool to face him, opposite to where he was cooking on the benchtop.

“Now watch carefully,” he said, “you hold the egg like this.”

He took the egg in his right hand, the bowl in his left.

“Crack it against the rim of the bowl, so that the break is clean.” With a deft hand, he tapped it firmly against the bowl, and split the shell with his fingers so the yoke fell out perfectly into the silver crater belowl. He made it look so easy.

“Now you,” he said, beckoning me to come to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

I stood in front of the bowl and eggs and he stood behind me. Taking my hands, he guided my left to hold the bowl and my right to hold the egg.

“Hold the bowl firm now,” he said and I nodded in reply. “Keep the egg sideways in your hand, so it’ll make a clean break in the shell.”

His mouth was so close to my ear as he leaned in and whispered his instructions, I felt the heat of his breath against my neck.

Goosebumps rose and trickled all across my body as I felt the strength of his hands against mine. Holding the top of my hand, he moved my arm to make the action.I suppose it made sense for a chef to have as firm a grip as he did, but I hadn’t thought about it before. And I also hadn’t thought about how that grip was making me feel.

“And now we just tap it firmly but still with power on that edge.”

As he brought my hand with the egg down to crack against the bowl, I was more aware of how good it felt to be touched by him, and that his face was only inches away from mine, and the goosebumps, and how if I just turned to the right, just a little…

CRACK!

The egg split and I jolted a little, as he guided my hand over the bowl and let the yoke fall out to mix in with the previous yoke.

“You’ve done it, madam, you’ve officially cracked an egg.”

I nudged him with my elbow as he laughed, and I hoped he didn’t see me blush.

He showed me how to whisk then, when we had cracked the amount he needed, and when to add the rest of the ingredients. He showed me how to butter the pan, told me oil was good too, showed me how to pour, and wait and flip, and how to watch the colour, how to make sure it didn’t burn.

He broke off a small bit, let me taste it, and I remembered tasting his finger a little too.

At the very end he showed me how to serve the dish and make it look beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as you he said, which forced me to bury the urges I felt even deeper down or I would’ve abandoned my oath there.

I took it all in as best as I could but I found that I had made the most effort to memorise his touch, his breath, his smile, his sparkling eyes as they looked at me, and how it felt to be guided by those hands knowing I couldn’t guide them the way I wanted to. Or where I wanted.

By that time, everyone else had made their way to the kitchen and we seated ourselves around the bench. Usopp told tales of his daring adventures while Luffy reacted with wows and shouts of awe, and Zorro sat silently eating as much as Luffy it seemed. Nami gave me a wry smile as she sat between Sanji and me.

“Well done, sous chef,” she whispered, and I glanced up at Sanji to see if he heard her. He met my eyes with a grin.

“I hope you all enjoyed your omelettes this morning,” he said cheerfully, “you have the lovely y/n to thank for them today, I was merely her assistant.”

Luffy gaped, “you made this y/n?”

“Yes but-” I began, but he raised his goblet and said, “A toast to the best omelettes I have ever eaten in my life and the best cooks in the East Blue!”

Everyone raised the mugs in agreement and cheered and drank and laughed, and I could only blush and think how lucky I was to find this crew, even if it may only be for a short while longer.

* * *

I found Zorro on the lower deck, napping against the mast, as I made my way down to mop the deck. With one hand placed on his hilt and the other behind his neck, he slouched lazily, unbothered, as I began on the floor in front of him.

“So you like the waiter huh?” He said after I had been at it for some time.

He didn’t open his eyes.

I stopped and leaned on the mop. “I just asked him to teach me how to cook, that's all.”

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“There’s nothing there, I just-”

He let out a loud “ha” sound and opened his eyes.

“Here I thought you were gonna stay low, keep your guard up and stay on until you needed to, like you told me in Shellstown, but now you're drooling in your soup over the waiter who’s so eager to serve. So much for that plan of yours.”

I gripped the mop handle so hard I thought it would splinter into my hand.

“You know nothing.” I moved close to him so that my words came across as a whispered growl.

“I know that I risked my ass to bring you with us,” he growled back, “and that keeping you with us is an even greater risk. I know that if the others knew you were a swordsman, a hunted one, they’d ask more questions than was good for them or you. And I know I’m the only one you can trust out here and the only one who can help you track that Baroque works shithead before he gets you too. So please, don’t try to bullshit me.”

He was still slumped lazily against the mast but his eyes betrayed no sign of weakness. I crouched down so that I was eye to eye with him, holding the mop to steady me.

“You don’t think I can keep my own feelings in check?”

“I’m not trying to piss you off, y/n,” he said, his demeanour unchanged, “but I can’t be quiet either. You said to call you out if I saw you get distracted.”

“He’s not a distraction.”

“But he won’t be safe either way.”

“Why are you so concerned all of a sudden,” I scowled, “it’s not like you give a shit about him. You two are such best friends, aren’t you?”

Zorro made a groan of frustration as he got up, his swords clinking against each other like bells. I rose to meet his eyes, still clinging to my mop.

“You swore to me that nothing would get in the way of you avenging what you lost and that you would lose nothing and no one else on your path. I swore that I would help you see it through to the end.” He clinked his swords as he rested his hand on top again. “So I’m warning you now,” he continued solemnly, “if you’re not more careful, you may keep that oath but lose something after anyway.”

He held my gaze for a moment, his eyes a fiery dark amber in the sunlight, before walking away slowly and down into the bowels of the ship.

My heart pounded in my ears.

My hands ached from where I had strangled the wooden mop handle.

As Zorro walked out of my view, I looked up to the balcony on the mid deck above and saw Sanji standing there, brooding it seemed.

No… watching me.

Swirling grey tendrils of smoke coiled in the air as he pulled and puffed on his glowing cigarette.

[moronkombat]

okay so I’ve never done this before 😭

but can I request a nsfw work on Tomas being frustrated over how Bi-Han treats him that he sleeps with Bi-Han’s wife who also loves Tomas 👀 like Tomas is so frustrated and Bi-Han’s wife offers him leverage even if it’s cheating on Bi-Han?

decided to take some creative liberties with this prompt and made it into tomas is frustrated with bi-han and decides he's going to take his frustrations out on bi-han's sweet little wife

tw: afab pronouns and anatomy, dub/noncon, breeding kink/pregnancy mention unprotected sex

Tomas had known her since he first came to join the Lin Kuei family. She had been the daughter of a close family friend and someone Tomas had become rather fond of her. She sweet, kind and always very understanding. The very opposite of Bi-Han and yet his eldest brother had been the one to capture her heart. When he saw the two of them embrace each other, Tomas felt as if nothing in the world would ever go right for him.

No matter how hard he tried to win her favor, she always had eyes for the cryomancer. Yes, she and Tomas spent time together but it was never anything more than a cordial and friendly chat between friends. Tomas wanted so much more than just friends. Yet she remained with Bi-Han and when he heard word of their proposal Tomas truly felt lost.

For years he has kept these envies to himself, watching from just the corner of his eye when Bi-Han and her were together. She smiles so sweetly with him. Never did she smile like that around Tomas. Though, this beautiful flower always kind, no matter the occasion. He treats Tomas with grace, respect and care. Did her husband share this trait? No.

Whatever Tomas seemed to do, Bi-Han was critical and disapproving. They do not share blood. They are not brothers. Tomas could never change that, he never could hope to. This day no exception as Tomas had been reminded of his commoner status yet again by his eldest brother. His only option to stand there and listen to this verbal lashing, waiting to be dismissed.

Upon his dismissal, Tomas had sought refuge in one of the dojos. There he stands, hand covering his brow, as he ponders all the failures Bi-Han saw him as. It isn't fair. It isn't right. Why is Tomas always met with such contempt when all he tries to do is receive acceptance?

"Tomas?" her voice an instant calming flow, "Thought I would find you here?"

A hand slides down the length of his face and he turns to look at the one who has always accepted him. Eyes softened, lips curved and offering a smile...she always so divine, so perfect. Tomas finds himself sighing and relaxing into the wall. Footsteps approach and her warmth radiates close. There's something tingling up his spine while she stands with him. So close, so close.

"'My husband giving you trouble, again?" Comes her inquisition and Tomas need not even answer her. Her posture and overall demeanor softens. "I'm sorry. It isn't right for him to become so upset with you."

His heart hangs heavy. It always her apologizing for Bi-Han behavior for his mistreatment of others. It is enraging to know that someone so sweet takes on the burdens of a brother most vile. Tomas can hear her voice, the words she says always so lovely, but he is unable to listen. No, his grey eyes merely watch her plush and tender lips move. Are they soft? They must be...they be so soft and comforting. Eyes continue their path...such a slender neck, smooth and warm skin.

Tomas can't stop himself not when eyes fall upon her chest. How unfair seeing the fabric stretch like that. Large breasts hide beneath it, just begging to be revealed. Fingers twitch as he imagines what it's like to hold them against his palms. What else could his hands do? That waist of hers...so tight and begging to be grabbed and pulled. Push and pull against his body again and again.

Shit...why does she have to do this? How can she be so cruel to taunt him with her body that so forbidden to him. It's not fair. It's not right. Nothing ever has gone right for Tomas, why does she have to rub it in by standing there looking so...tempting?!

Desire, so much of it, how is expected not to drown? Hands that flinch and wince now spring to life. They grab, they shove and he hears her shriek. Bodies pressed together, she trapped and ensnared and Tomas holds the key to escape. Large hands encompass her wrists, holding her against a wall. She struggles, squirming and writhing against him. Feels good...it feels so good!

Tomas pressed himself as close as he can to her, hot breath dancing against a slim neck. A stiff erection begins to burn and Tomas is so desperate for relief while she continues to move against his body. A tongue so damp licks at her skin and shaking hands begin to roam uncharted territory. The fabric of her dress so pretty against begging palms. He hears her pleading with him, asking him what he's doing and why but Tomas can only hear how delicious her voice sounds like this.

Hips begin to buck, rutting up against her to establish some sort of friction for his growing arousal. None of Tomas can remain still when he has her captured like this. He gropes and caresses all the curves he can. Pulling at her dress to better reveal secrets he could have never dreamed of revealing. Yet here she is, supple breasts exposed that Tomas quickly latches himself onto.

There's a new noise at his ears then, something very dangerous and it shoots right down to Tomas' desperate cock. She's whining, it feels good? He's making her feel good. Invigorated, Tomas begins to luck and suck at perked and blushing nipples. So easily his lips encompass such a beautiful little bud and how perfectly his tongue swirls around it. There's more of those pretty sounds from her and Tomas uses an unoccupied hand to bring her hand to his hard erection.

He can feel her wrist attempting to pull away. How dare she. Doesn't she know he's like this because of her? Because she is always walking around flaunting that lewd body of hers. This is her fault. There is only her to blame for what's happening. Tomas' grip on her wrist steels and he begins manipulating her hand so that she caresses him through his trousers.

"T-Tomas...!" Words are finally coherent again. "Please, you don't mean to do this!"

It is her attempt to reason with him, to still he the very good in him that Bi-Han could never see. Tomas groans and moves his lips from her breast torrid and wild. "Tom-!"

He can't hear her again, lips are pressed onto hers so rough and desperate. Even as she tries to resist, his tongue and hers still collide so gracefully.

"So pretty, you're so pretty." Tomas whines against her in that moment of breath. "I gotta taste you. You're making me go crazy. Fuck, you're always teasing me."

Panicked, afraid, she looks to him. "Tomas, I don't know what you're talking about! Ple-!" She screams, her world spinning as eyes come to witness the wall.

There's a gasp, hands are pulling her hips and soon she feels herself being bent over. She has no choice but to place her palms flat against the wall if she did not want to tumble. Her legs are moved apart and a dress is hiked up around her waist. Over her shoulder she is met with the wild and drunk gaze of her dear friend Tomas.

Bending down, he can feel himself shaking and trembling as he looks at her soaked panties. She's wet, so wet, practically dripping and she knows it too. There is a great shame within her, knowing she's been turned on by someone other than her husband but her body cannot deny pleasure no matter who gives it.

"You're so wet here." Tomas muses, pressing finger against the warmth of her panties. "So sticky...fuck, I gotta taste your pussy."

Her mouth parts to protest but there is only a moan as the flat of his tongue lays against her clothed pussy. Such a betraying moan, she bites her lip to keep herself quiet but Tomas does not stop. His tongue tangos against her nectar stained panties, pushing and sucking. Nails claw at the wall and thighs shake that he teases her like this. Why does it feel so amazing? She loves her husband so much but...this just feels so good!

Teeth slip and her moans are freed into the empty air. Such pretty music she makes for him and Tomas is only fueled to keep going. "You like this, baby? You like me teasing you pussy like this?"

No, this is so filthy. Bi-Han has never talked to her like this. No, Bi-Han always so sweet with his words but Tomas...so cruel and yet why does something within her twist and turn so tightly?

"Ah, you're getting even more wet. You must be really perverted, huh? So fucking hot..." Tomas breathes before continuing. He not even touching her core directly and still he has her moaning like this. "S-Shit, you just can't keep quiet. I'm gonna end up cumming just from listening to you."

That would be her salvation, wouldn't it? If he came now, then nothing could progress further. Please, please just finish! But there is no salvation awaiting her. No, instead her panties are pulled away and cool air greets her. No, no! Tomas could cum from just the sight of her pretty little pussy. Such a lovely color...Tomas quivers, fuck he needs to take her now

Sounds of clothing shifting and Tomas holds the base of his hard and thick length. The tip slides against her pussy, coating it so sticky in beautiful glistening wetness. She gasps and begins to beg. "No...! No Tomas don't! Please!"

Her pleas fall so silent, Tomas will not be denied that which should have always been his. His hands grab onto her hips, pushing into soft skin. "I'm gonna fuck you now, okay? I just gotta fuck you. I've always wanted to so...you'll let me, right?"

Words are spoken yet Tomas seems not to be interested in a response. Eyes captured by madness, there is no shred of hesitation left within him now.

"No, wait! Stop!" She tries again but she should have learned that there is no happy ending for her. Tomas' length rubs against her wet pussy, coating it in all her slick and warmth. She can hear him panting just from this, she knows he is excited to fuck her. He's so eager, desperately rutting himself against her in an attempt to enter her.

"S-Shit, it won't go in..." Tomas breaths as he rushes to penetrate that which does not belong to him. He moves a hand to stabilize himself and finally the bulbous and engorged tip spreads her apart. Eyes fly open and a back in bending. No...No! Walls are pried apart as his cock makes its shaky way inside her. Further and further those spongy walls are pulled apart but oh do they cling and wrap around him.

Tomas is moaning, watching as her greedy pussy swallows up his cock from tip to base. Hips slam together and now he is fully nestled inside. The warmth, the comfort, there no better bliss than to be engulfed by her. Tomas lightly swivels his hips, this length moving so snugly against her insides and she cries out.

"You're so tight...sucking me in like that. Such a great pussy. Damn, babe, I can hardly move you're clinging to me so much." She hates that he is right. She hates how her pussy so quickly wrapped around his cock as if he were her dear husband. Tomas can only move his hips shallowly, allowing her pussy to adjust to the foreign intrusion. Her mind knows this is wrong, that she only wants to ever do something like this with her husband but the body wants what it craves. Right now it craves the maelstrom that is Tomas.

Brows pinch together and fingers bruise tender flesh, Tomas can't tolerate this pace any longer. He needs more, he will have more. Skin against skin, the slap of it such a beautiful symphony that fills the room as he begins to fuck her tight little cunt raw. Each thrust brings forth a moan from both of them.

"So good, you feel so good." words slip between breaths as Tomas continues to ravage her. "Your cunt is so fucking tight. It feels like you're suffocating me, babe. Shit, your pussy is the best."

The words have her sick yet his body has her reaching divinity more and more. His cock stretches and fills up all of her, she can feel him so deep inside.

"T-Tomas...please..-" words cannot continue, the moans and mewls leave no room for them.

The sound of his names coming from her lewd and plush lips has Tomas throbbing and straining inside her. "Y-Yeah! Say my name again! Fuck, say my name again, babe!"

She resists, biting her bottom lip and sucking it in. No, she can't. She mustn't moan the name of another man. Her silence is infuriating and Tomas grits his teeth. A hand raises only to come down upon the flesh of her round and shapely ass. The skin there like rippling waves and her entire body tensing and Tomas feels every little bit of it.

"S-Shit! You're squeezing my dick so much! Fuck, you like that? Fucking dirty bitch...!" So horrible, so wonderful. No, this can't be.

Once again his hand punishes her and she can only whimper and shake under him. Her body responds the same, with lust and treachery. She thinks of Bi-Han and her eyes close. Apologies ring in her head over and over again. They compete with the corruption that is pleasure and all of its temptations.

"Such a good slut. God, I love you so much. You feel amazing!" Words from him begin to strain as colors so unspeakable begin to rise into view. "I just can't stop fucking you."

Her body never wants him to stop. The sex he gives so brutal, so feral. They like animals mating with the way they move and moan. Her head is dizzy, her pussy is wet and dripping, it's so good, it's too good.

"T-Tomas..!" A bond is broken, a name is said. "Tomas! I-I can't...!"

She can and she will. Tomas slams himself into her abused cunt again and again, the sounds of their sex so mind numbing. "That's it! Say my name again! S-Shit...I'm not gonna last...!"

Horror, terror, the realization. He's going to cum, he's going to finish soon. No! No! Please not that! "N-Not...inside! You can't!" Those the only words she can manage but they are not the words Tomas wanted.

"Inside? Yeah, Imma cum inside you. I'm gonna cum inside your slutty pussy." Tomas steels himself, he will have no other option. It is his right to do so. She always belonged to him. "Fuck that...idiot Bi-Han. Stealing you from me like that. You should be my wife."

The heat, it is rising it is coiling. Her walls tremble to match his throbbing length. Together they dance, together they reach the sky. Such beautiful rhythms around his cock she provides as her orgasm overtakes her into the pits of calamity.

Her undoing only fuels Tomas and the twisted thoughts within his head. "Yeah, yeah that's right. Cum on my cock! You fucking love it. You love when I fuck you!"

It should have been him. It should have always been him. What would Bi-Han think now? What would he think if he saw his wife having sex with his inferior brother? The thought drives Tomas to manic raptor.

"I'm gonna cum in you. Gonna fill you up real nice. Hey..." wicked thoughts become villainous. "How about I cum inside of you and get you knocked up? Yeah, I think I'll fuck a baby into you. That'll show Bi-Han."

Bi-Han, her husband, the love of her life. The man who she promised herself to but now here she is being fucked by another and cumming around his cock. Her thoughts are ripped away as Tomas sharply pulls on her arm, forcing her back to curve and bend.

A craned neck, moans cannot hide themself and go birthed into the warm air. Tomas groans, Tomas grunts, driven now by a sinister purpose. He'll fuck her so full. He'll paint her insides until there will be no choice but to remember him forever. He loves her. He loves her so much.

Strings of white pearls erupt within a warm and welcoming home. So painted, so tarnished. His cock so buried inside her, he's cumming so much. It's never ending, there's too much! Tomas pulls from her cum stained pussy, spurts still releasing and sticking to her now reddening ass. So sticky and sweet he has made her, watching over her body as she falls to the floor, spent and used.

Tomas pants, enjoying the masterpiece he has created. She lays so cold, eyes filled with tears and pussy so filled with seed that didn't belong to her husband. She cannot move, she cannot bring herself to do much of anything.

Behind her there is movement and the youngest Lin Kuei brother is fixing his clothes, getting himself ready to depart.

"That was really great!" so casual, as if nothing had happened. "We'll have to have fun like that again. Fuck you were just as good as I always thought."

Now he would never have to only imagine it. Now he has the experience to relish in and return to. Turning to leave, Tomas pauses before opening the door.

"Oh and you won't tell Bi-Han, right? Hah, what am I saying, of course you won't tell him!"

Why is he right?

[117luv]

THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 13

synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.

genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication

taglist: CLOSED!

a/n: hi darlings! im back (FINALLY) again apologies for the super late update (a month later DAMN) but now we are finished with the flashback, ne ways enjoy this chap and love ya!! <3

masterlist | previous | next

Her mom was fuming after learning her "perfect daughter" had been ruined by a nobody. She kept telling her to avoid the boy, but now she is going against her by marrying him. She furiously went to their place and asked to talk to both of them. Fortunately, the twins were sleeping with Heeseung's parents that day, or it could have been worse. Yn looked at her mother, filled with anger and resentment. The older woman spoke up, which broke the silence. "Yn. I'm telling you this once, and once only. If you don't divorce him, I will put up the twins for adoption," she said. "You can't just do that, Mom. I'm their mother, and you can't tell me what to do with our children," she said while holding his hands.

She couldn't believe her ears; her daughter is now answering back to her. "I don't care. I will do everything if you don't listen to me. All I asked was for you to date a decent man, but you settle with him instead," she said. She was torn between being with her first love and being with their children. She looked at his face again and told him that everything would be fine. In return, he assured her that whatever choice she made, he would accept it. As she took her breath, she made her final decision.

"Fine. I will divorce him, but we will keep the twins. I will have Jungwon while Heeseung will have Niki. We will promise to never see each other after everything," she said. Her mom finds it amusing that she came up with such a deal, but if it means that her daughter will be away from Heeseung, then she will take it. "Okay, I will let this slide. But do know I'll be watching you two closely," she said while walking out of the door. After she left, Yn fell to the ground. Her sobs filled the living room, and Heeseung immediately hugged her as he comforted her. She wished to be woken up from this nightmare.

Anyone who might hear her thoughts might think she is fucked up. No daughter should be happy for their own mother's death. Yn had never felt more at ease than right now. It was like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. All the years that her mother had controlled her life had ended. The same woman who took the people she loved dearly away from her. Sure, she appreciates the things her mother did to her, but her control over her life was much greater. She is happy that she is gone. A sentence that she never thought she would ever say.

She flew from Canada back to Korea for her mother's funeral, where she met her younger brother, Sunghoon, and her father. She doesn't resent her father as much as she resents her mother, but she chose to be estranged from him after accident years ago. Sunghoon had been the best throughout everything; he had her back when no one was there. She couldn't thank him enough for his presence. After staying for only two days, she came back to Canada.

Her and Jungwon lived in Canada until he was 14 years old. By this point, it has been five years since her mother died. She had finally made the decision to go back to Korea. This was a step in finding the two missing people who are part of her broken puzzle piece, Heeseung and Niki.

taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @jhopesucker @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @enhaz1 @beoms-sugar

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 8

...and so it begins, my dear Readers. So it begins. Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of abusive, r/p/e, exes being absolute assholes, Alastor ready to kill, threats, stalking

Word Count: 2, 525

The day had gone surprisingly well, despite the horrible way it started. You had spent it with Alastor and Veronica, but mostly Alastor since your roommate decided she wanted to go do other things. Alastor had been a wonderful gentleman, holding doors open for you, letting you hold his arm as you walked. He even had you on his right side, away from the road. He was so old fashion it made you swoon, but you fought off the butterflies and kept a cool head.

Now you sat on the hood of your car, waiting for Veronica who said twenty minutes ago that she was just finishing up at a store and would be on her way. The sun was setting, turning the sky orange and red, little stars starting to shine through overhead. You glance at Alastor who stood by the car, his eyes watchful around the parking lot.

"Sorry she's taking so long," you apologize again, holding your head in your hands as you prop your elbows on you knees.

"It's alright. I'm sure she's just having fun," he says. "I hope you did, as well." You can't fight the large smile as it comes.

"Yeah, I did. Did you?" You watch his face carefully, trying to see if you can read him. It's hard, what with his constant smile. Why was that?

"Indeedy! Might be the most fun I've had since 1933!" You giggle, watching him spread his arms out and swirl his cane. He stops and faces you, dipping low. "Was a pleasure, my dear, thank you."

"Don't thank me," you say, crossing your arms. "Veronica was the one who mentioned it." You initially were going to stay in your room today and worry if your ex was coming to kidnap you. Oh no. Now you were thinking about him. Great. Way to ruin your own mood.

Alastor must notice how your shoulders drop as he steps forward. His body is blocking your view of Bourbon Street and you have to crane your neck to see him properly. Damn, you forgot how tall he is. "Everything alright, darling?" he asks. You note the way his smile is lowered, still there but now with pressed lips, like a frown.

"I'm ok," you lie. You don't want to burden him with your troubles. He's a demon, you're sure he won't care. No matter how much fun you had today, no matter what he says or does, he's only here cause you summoned him. Once you make your wish, he's gone. There's no point in letting your heart melt like it's doing now, no point in gasping when he leans close to you. Why is he so close?

"Darling," he says softly, tilting your chin to make you look up at him again. There's no point falling for him, so why is he making it so hard not to? "If there's anything bothering you, you can tell me. Let me help you." Fuck. Yep. You're screwed. Demon or not, your heart drops like an anchor out in the ocean, falling fast and hard to the sea floor.

"I -"

"There you guys are!" Veronica's voice pulls you back and you lean away from Alastor. You swear you see his brows dip in anger, but it's gone as he straightens up.

"About time you show up," you joke but the smile fades when you see Veronica. Her face is pale, like she's seen a ghost, panting as she catches her breath. Had she been running? "What's wrong?" Veronica looks up at you, clearly worried.

"What does your ex look like again?"

No.

No, no, no.

It can't be.

You feel your body growing cold, your hands shaking. "W-What?"

"It could've been someone else," she backtracks, shaking her head and reaching for your phone. You let her take it, fingers too numb to move. She goes through your photos until she stops on the only recent one you had of your ex. "Oh my god."

Your heart drops again, for a different reason this time. Fear crawls up your spine, wrapping itself around your throat.

Please, it can't be.

"Girlie, we need to leave," Veronica says, trying to hand you your phone back. You don't grab it, you can't move. You're stuck, tears forming.

He's here. He's found you. It's all over.

You hear Veronica shout your name, but it's lost to the rush of wind in your ears. You can't hear anything.

"What's wrong?" Alastor asks. Veronica shows him the photo.

"This douchebag is her ex and he's here. He's like, stalked her or some shit!" Veronica explains. "I know it's not my place to say, sorry girlie -" she sends you an apologetic look "- but this asshole abused her. It's why she left him."

Now you hear your name. It's Alastor this time. He has your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are glowing red as he peers into yours. You gasp, the damn breaking as you begin to cry. "H-He can't…H-He's going to hurt me!"

"Not while I'm here, he's not," Alastor states, voice hard as he scoops you into his arms. You let him, too scared to move on your own. Veronica's eyes widen, pointing between the two of you.

"Ok, we're going to revisit this later, but right. Let's leave." She takes your keys and gets in the driver's seat, Alastor placing you in the back with him. He buckles you up as Veronica begins to skid off from the parking lot and back to your apartment.

"Does he know where she lives?" you hear Alastor ask, clearly talking to Veronica.

"Not that I know of?" she answers. "I mean, if he showed up there, chances are it's a yes." She hits the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. "God! Why are men such pigs? No offense."

"None taken," Alastor says, looking back down at you. You're shaking like a leaf, eyes unfocused, no doubt lost in your thoughts. He tugs at your chin again but you can't see him. Not clearly. Everything around  you is buzzing, memories of your past clouding your mind. The arguments, the fights, the bruises. You absently rub at your thighs, the scars throbbing. You feel sick.

"Stop," you whisper but it's unheard. You say it again, louder. "Stop!" Veronica slams on the breaks, a car blaring its horn behind you. You claw your way out of the car just as the bile rises. You puke violently, your stomach lurching in disgust as your mind plagues you with the memories of that night. His hands on your body, on your throat, ignoring your cries and pleas for  him to stop. You had begged him, even praying for death when he wouldn't stop. You puke again, couching. A hand rubs your back, but you can't tell who.

"We need to get her back to the apartment," you hear someone say. "It's not safe out here."

Your name is called, faded and faint but you hear it. Then it's in your head, beckoning you. You feel yourself calming down, the sickness in your stomach ebbing away. You stand on weak legs, wobbling and swaying. The hand on your back comes to rest at your hip, steadying you. It's Alastor.

You whimper and lean into him. He picks you back up in his arms, carrying you back to the car. This time, he doesn't bother to buckle you, keeping you in his arms, tight against his chest. You hold on to him, needing him like a lifeline. Veronica gets back in and continues the drive.

It doesn't take long before you're being carried into the apartment, Veronica deadbolting the door behind you. Alastor takes you to your room, setting you on the bed. He goes to move away but you clasp tightly to his shirt. A silent hint for him to stay. He sits down by your side, his hand grasping yours to hold. You don't want to be alone. You can't.

Veronica joins you two, your phone in her hand. She looks pissed, angrier than earlier as she holds the screen up to you. It's opened to your messages and you see the new number, the letters making you feel sick all over again.

'Thought you could get away?'

You grab the phone, deleting the message instantly, but another appears.

'I'm coming for you, little rabbit.'

You throw the phone against your wall, the screen cracking. It goes off again with another notification, then another. You cover your ears, begging it to stop.

"Geez, this guy can't take a hint!" Veronica says. "Should I call the police?" You shake your head violently.

"No!" you shout. "No cops. Please. It'll only make it worse." You remember the last time you got the cops involved. He had charmed his way out of the dispute so easily and the consequences afterwards had nearly killed you. "No cops."

"Ok, ok. No cops." Veronica shifts by your side, kneeling down. "But, girlie, we gotta do something. I've seen the aftermath of this asshole. It took me a year just to get you out of the house. I'm not letting him ruin you again."

"You don't understand," you whisper, rocking back and forth now. "He won't stop. He won't stop coming for me. Not until I'm dead."

"I doubt he'll kill you. Stalk you? Sure. Threaten you? What abusive ex doesn't?"

"Veronica," you interrupt her. It's time to come clean. To tell her everything. "He almost has." Veronica's eyes widen.

"What are you talking about?"

"John almost killed me," you confess, hating the way his name bites at your tongue. "The last time I tried to escape, he nearly killed me, telling me if I ever left him again, he would finish the job. He even…" you trail off, not able to say out loud the horrendous things he did to you. Instead, you sit upright, turning your torso as you lift your shirt. On your lower back at marks, scars from his doing. You don't show her the others, already feeling like you're going to puke again.

"I didn't know." She lifts her hand, as if to touch them, but stops. You lower your shirt back down.

"I didn't tell you," you say. "I didn't want you to know. It's something I've been trying so hard to forget." You glance now, to Alastor. He's been silent the whole time and when you look at him, you know why. His body is vibrating with anger, his eyes cold and dark. The smile he always has, the one that's come to comfort you, is stretched so thin you're worried his skin will crack.

"Alastor?" you call out. His head snaps to you, the anger dissolving only a little. He forces his smile to relax some, for your sake. "Veronica, could I have some time with Alastor? Alone?" You know she's going to question you about it later, but thankfully, she does as you ask. Once she's out of your room, the door shut, you grab Alastor's hands. His finger lengthen, the skin darkening as claws appear. His human form fades away as the demon he is shines through. You gasp.

His horns are large, doubled in size and nearly reaching your ceiling. His eyes are pitch black save for two tiny, red dots. Blood drips down his chin as his sharp teeth bite into his lip, strained from how tight he clenches his jaw.

You should be horrified, terrified, absolutely appalled by his appearance, but you aren't.

Your hand reaches tenderly up to him, turning him to look at you. "Al," you softly speak his name. He leans into your touch but doesn't speak, not at first. A low, guttural growl resonates from within his chest.

"I won't let him touch you." His voice is deep, static dripping on every word. Your startled when he quickly leans over you, his upper body caging you in as he places his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to lay back. "He can't have you."

"He won't." You keep your voice gentle, letting Alastor know that you trust him.

Trust him?

You can't trust him. He's a demon.

No, you disagree with the voice in your head. He may be a demon but you can trust him.

"You said you'll protect me, right?" you ask, watching as Alastor's body slowly begins to relax. You place a hand on his neck, fingers rubbing at the underside of his hair. His antlers shrink back down, the black of his eyes gone with a blink, those warm, red orbs back to normal. You smile up at him, "There he is."

"Sorry," Alastor breathes out.

"It's ok." You don't feel any fear like you did earlier, only warmth and security. You knew that, no matter what, Alastor was here. He was with you and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. Demon or not, you knew the moment he vowed to protect you, you were in love with him.

"I should," Alastor says, moving away from you. He sits at the end of your bed, putting space between you. It makes your heart ache, but you understand. He doesn't want to scare you.

"Girlie, I'm coming in!" Veronica opens your door. "I brought you some water." You panic for a second, looking to Alastor, but he's back to his human form. How quickly he could do that never ceased to amaze you.

She hands you a glass and you thank you, gulping it down. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry, the cold liquid soothing. You set the glass down and stand up, feeling a renewed strength. You walk over to where your phone laid, bending over to pick it up. The screen lit up, thirty new messages unread. You opened them, anger building as you read each one.

"That does it." You turn on your heel, looking at Veronica and Alastor. "If he wants me, I'm not going down without a fight."

"Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

"You're not confronting him," Alastor states and you shake your head.

"No, but I am going to lure him into a trap. This bastard thinks he can get away with this, he's got another thing coming." You walk back over to your bed. "Here's the plan. Veronica, you'll be my 911 operator. I'm going to get him to think I'm meeting up with him -"

"No."

"- and then once he shows up, I'm gonna have my phone recording everything. Once he starts acting up, you'll call the police -"

"No."

"- and when they get there, I'll have everything on video. Evidence to prove my case against him."

"That's not happening," Alastor repeats, louder this time.

"Don't worry," you say, "you're going to be my backup. If he gets out of hand, you'll jump in and save me. I'll be fine." Alastor doesn't look like he believes you.

"Ok, so when are we doing this?" Veronica asks. You look at your phone, reading the last message John sent you.

"Tomorrow." You swipe your thumbs over the keyboard, typing out the text and hit send. It doesn't even take a second before he's responding, putting  your plan into action.

"Tomorrow, I'm making this bastard pay."

AN: Whew... this is. Yeah. Till tomorrow, my dear readers.

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[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: To Mogart

Summary: With little luck, Marc and (Y/N) bump into Layla, who has a solution to finding their own clue to Ammit's tomb.

            Marc and (Y/N) walked through the marketplace of Cairo as (Y/N) kept an eye out for possible people to talk to. They had seen a lot of black-market dealings in their time, and that meant they had seen a lot of black-market dealers.

            “Do you recognize anyone?” asked Marc.

            “Not yet,” said (Y/N). “But it’s possible new fronts and new workers could be a part of the scene. If I don’t recognize them, it’s my fault.”

            “You’re doing the best you can, kid,” said Marc. “And I can’t do better.”

            (Y/N) glanced at him, unsure of how to react—still confused in interactions. They opted to nod curtly.

            “…About what Harrow said,” said Marc. “Are you alright?”

            Pouring from him, the words couldn’t be held back. Marc had seen (Y/N)’s reactions to Harrow’s words and accusations, and he didn’t like it. They were a kid. They were working harder for what was right than most adults did. They were good. They didn’t deserve to be looked down on or hurt by Harrow.

            Did I deserve to be hurt?

            Banishing the thought, Marc looked at (Y/N) as their eyes flicked to the ground before raising again.

            “He didn’t lie,” said (Y/N). “My parents died. I am a young Avatar.” They furrowed their brow. “But…I don’t understand why that meant my words could be dismissed. I told the truth, but no one listened.”

            “None of the gods are fair,” said Marc. His hand rose to pat (Y/N)’s shoulder (affectionately), but he forced it back down. “You did the right thing, though. They’re the ones who were stupid enough to listen more to Harrow.”

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N) quietly, pulling the cuffs of their jacket.

            “How have you guys not gotten anywhere with this whole mission?”

            As a new voice entered the conversation, Marc and (Y/N) whirled. Layla stared at them, hands on her hips.

            “You’re so close, but I guess experience doesn’t make up for being Egyptian and really knowing this place,” said Layla, smirking.

            “Layla, what the hell are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here,” said Marc.

            “Why? Because my name pisses off a few people in Cairo?” said Layla.

            “Well, that could cause a problem,” pointed out (Y/N).

            Perfectly unconcerned, Layla shrugged. “Who cares?”

            “It’s not the locals I’m worried about,” said Marc.

            Layla rolled her eyes. “Just come with me. I’ll help you find what you need.”

            “We have been pretty slow,” said (Y/N). “Harrow’s already on the track of Ammit’s tomb.”

            Marc’s jaw clenched, but he nodded.

            “Perfect! Follow me,” said Layla.

l

            That evening, Layla, Marc, and (Y/N) ended up on a boat filled with a family playing music and dancing with one another. Lively, upbeat melodies filled the air, and (Y/N) smiled as they watched, enchanted, as the family celebrated being together as one. As the sun dipped in the east, fiery light danced across the waves as the boat skimmed over the river.

            “So, what exactly are we gonna do here? What’s the plan?” asked Marc.

            Layla raised a brow. “Oh. It’s not pleasant being left in the dark, is it?”

            Marc’s jaw clenched. “Okay.”

            This is one way to ruin the happy family moment, thought (Y/N), sighing.

            “I get that you’re not happy about me leaving so quickly and coming to Cairo,” said Marc. “I understand.”

            “Wait. Is that your apology?” Layla scoffed. “That’s good. That’s really good.”

            (Y/N) didn’t need their ability to know she was lying and being sarcastic.

            “Just so we can get through tonight, maybe let’s just give our shit a rest for a moment and just try to strategize before we get to…” Actually unsure, Marc trailed off.

            “Mogart’s,” finished Layla.

            “Mogart’s?” repeated Marc.

            (Y/N) had heard of him—an antiquities “collector” who was really just a thief and a black-market dealer.

            “Just so you know, I’m not here to help you,” said Layla sharply to Marc. “I’m here for me and for everyone else who would die if Harrow succeeds.” Gesturing to (Y/N), she continued, “And you’re bringing a kid to a fight, so I have every right to take charge.”

            (Y/N) blinked, and they pulled on their sleeves. First Marc, now Layla. Two adults seemed…concerned, or something like that, about them. Due to the unfamiliarity of the feeling, (Y/N) found themself uncomfortable.

            Marc nodded stiffly. “Copy that.”

            “Got it,” said (Y/N), spilling the words out quickly.

            “Good,” said Layla.

            Marc swallowed. “But I am sorry. For whatever that’s worth.”

            Truth. (Y/N) felt it in their bones. They smiled.

            Clearing his throat, Marc brushed aside his vulnerability. “So, this Mogart guy. He’s really gonna have his sarcophagus?”

            “Yes. I asked around,” said Layla. “Mogart’s collection is prime gossip for those of us who deal in antiquities.”

            Abruptly, the music grew louder, and the three at the end of the boat looked back at the others. They were dancing and laughing, in their own world of fun, outside of Marc, Layla, and (Y/N)’s more complicated one.

            Marc smiled and gazed at Layla. “I haven’t heard that sound since…” His eyes softened. “Since our wedding.”

            Layla couldn’t help a smile in return. Feeling it, however, she cleared her throat and looked at (Y/N). She escaped from sharing vulnerability. “(Y/N), we’ll be heading downriver for a while longer. You should take a rest.”

            “I can keep going,” said (Y/N).

            Layla raised a brow, and (Y/N)’s heart clenched as they remembered how their mom used to affectionately scold them, making them feel guided and protected. “Uh-huh. You can, but that doesn’t mean you should. Rest. Unlike Marc, I’m not running off anytime soon.”

            “…Alright.”

            Layla spoke no lies, and, although able to continue, (Y/N) was tired. From running around Cairo to fighting to channeling Ma’at to pleading with the gods for them to listen, (Y/N) had gone through about as much any person could take without crashing. They lay down on the bench, closed their eyes, and drifted off into blissful silence as the sounds of a joyful family swam around them hauntingly.

l

            “They shouldn’t be here,” said Layla, looking at (Y/N). She wanted them to rest, yes, but she had also wanted to talk to Marc about bringing a child into danger.

            “They’re an Avatar. Harrow knows who they are. They’re in more danger alone than they are with me. Us,” said Marc.

            Layla remained unimpressed. “They’re more in danger with you.”

            Clenching his jaw, Marc looked away. How was he supposed to answer? Layla was right. Around him, (Y/N) was in danger. Yes, they were an Avatar, but they had still been unseen, working in the shadows, until Marc got involved with Harrow and exposed them in the Alps with Steven.

            It was his fault they were in danger. Marc couldn’t just leave them. He had failed to protect others he led into danger. He couldn’t fail to protect (Y/N). They were too much like him. Like Randall.

            Marc wanted them to turn out better than he had.

            “Maybe. But who else cares about that other than us?” said Marc.

            Layla looked at the sleeping teen. She nodded shortly. Who else was there to care about (Y/N)?

l

            “(Y/N).”

            Sitting up, (Y/N) opened their eyes as they heard Marc speak to them. “What?”

            “We’re here,” said Marc.

            (Y/N) looked around. The boat was docking in front of a small carnival with glass, pyramidal structures behind a dirt track for horses. Marc, Layla, and (Y/N) disembarked and approached the grass lawn.

            “This guy’s got a lot of friends,” said Marc.

            “Yeah, and a lot with guns,” said Layla.

            “What else did we expect?” said (Y/N).

            Marc glanced around, and his eyes landed on a small motorboat approaching the pier. They had no lights and were looking around suspiciously.

            “What is it?” asked (Y/N), seeing Marc’s body-language tense.

            “Harrow’s men keeping tabs?” wondered Layla, narrowing her eyes.

            “I don’t know. Could be,” said Marc warily.

            “Let’s go,” said Layla, turning towards the carnival. They needed to focus and get this done. The longer they waited, the closer to Ammit Harrow got. “Remember, Marc, your name is Rufino Estrada. (Y/N), your name is Mariana Estrada.”

            Like the Mariana Trench? (Y/N) was confused but nodded.

            “Right,” said Marc.

            “We just got back from a family vacation in the Maldives,” said Layla.

            (Y/N) flinched at the mention of family. The last time they had one…they lost everything. Still, part of them ached at the word, and they sat up straighter.

            “These are strange details to give them,” said Marc.

            “I’d tell them you worked at a gift shop and they were some random kid, but they’d never believe me, would they?” said Layla pointedly.

            The three approached the horse track, and a security guard approached.

            “Bek,” greeted Layla.

            “Layla,” said Bek, glancing at Marc and (Y/N).

            “It’s been a while. Good to see you,” said Layla.

            Bek nodded to her. “Right this way.”

            “Thank you,” said Layla, smiling.

            “He’s looking forward to seeing her,” said Bek as he guided them closer to the horse ring. “After Madripoor, I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.”

            Madripoor did have quite a few issues recently, thought (Y/N), reminiscing on the super-soldier serum reproduction and gunbattle that had gone down with, reportedly, Avengers.

            “Excuse me for one moment,” said Bek. “Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly.”

            He walked away, and Layla, Marc, and (Y/N) were left watching the men ride horses with lances.

            “So, what? This joker just puts on El-Mermah games in his backyard, for fun?” said Marc, unimpressed.

            “No, he gets private lessons by the best in his backyard,” said Layla.

            “Using money from trading what doesn’t belong to him,” murmured (Y/N).

            Bek approached one man, Mogart, and he descended from his horse. Bek placed a red robe around his shoulders, and Mogart smiled at the group across the track.

            “I like the robe,” muttered Marc.

            Lie. But (Y/N) didn’t need to be told that.

            “Layla,” called Mogart. “Come in.” He walked towards them, and the three came onto the track. “Such a delight to see you.”

            “You, too,” said Layla.

            Mogart took her hand and kissed the back. “How have you been?”

            “Good. Thank you for having us over on such short notice,” said Layla.

            “Oh, please. I hope you realize you need no excuse to drop by,” said Mogart.

            Ignoring us to flirt with Layla and annoy Marc. Is this a man thing? thought (Y/N).

            Layla patted Marc’s shoulder and smiled at (Y/N). “This is my husband, Rufino, and my step-kid, Mariana.”

            “Nice to meet you,” said Marc stiffly, sticking out his hand.

            “Pleasure,” said Mogart, refusing to shake it a moment before taking it to show who was in charge (again, men). He nodded to (Y/N). “Cute kid.”

            (Y/N) avoided eye-contact and nodded.

            “Come, follow me. I’ll show you my collection,” said Mogart, turning towards the pyramidal structures. “I hope you understand, though, that this is more than a collection for me. Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”

            Marc gave (Y/N) a pointed look to not say anything since they clearly thought differently about his habits and was about to speak way too honestly.

            “A self-appointed responsibility that you alone were able to enjoy, no?” Unfortunately, Marc had forgotten to make sure Layla wouldn’t say anything.

            “Well, as I prefer to see it as a philanthropic effort at preservation,” said Mogart. “Now, if I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?”

            “Oh, actually, our purchases—”

            “I’m sorry.” Mogart interrupted Layla and looked at Marc and (Y/N). “I’d like to hear from your husband or stepchild, if you don’t mind.”

            Marc and Mogart stared at each other evenly, and Mogart crossed his arms.

            “I think…I would just love to take a look,” said Marc, not the best lie by a long shot.

            “I like learning about Egyptian history,” said (Y/N). “And this is a great opportunity.” Not a lie at all, both were true facts. However, (Y/N) wouldn’t be learning about history in general but in Ammit.

            Mogart looked between them and nodded. Gesturing to the pyramid behind him, he said, “Feel free.”

            “Great,” said Layla, smiling. She took his and (Y/N)’s arms and walked into the pyramid. Quietly, she whispered, “Marc, just let Steven out before you blow this.”

            “Not a chance.” Marc looked at the sarcophagus. “Alright, what do you see?”

            “The burial practices are in line with the Studenwachen texts,” said (Y/N).

            “The what?” said Marc.

            “You know those?” asked Layla.

            “Ma’at makes sure I know a lot about Egyptian history,” said (Y/N). And my parents taught me before her. “The sarcophagus is legit, but all I see is the literature to guide the dead. I don’t see a location for Ammit’s tomb.”

            “Because the information has to be unlocked.” Steven spoke, and (Y/N) and Marc glanced up to the reflection in the glass ceiling. “It’s coded.”

            “Okay, um…” Marc took a deep breath. “Will you give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven. Just keep Mogart occupied, and don’t let (Y/N) speak, they can’t lie.”

            Layla looked at (Y/N) in confusion.

            “I really can’t,” said (Y/N) honestly.

            Taking a deep breath, Layla nodded. “Come on.” They stepped out of the glass pyramid and left Marc and Steven to figure out the mystery of Senfu’s sarcophagus.

            Layla smiled at Bek and Mogart. “He just needs a couple minutes in there alone ‘cause…yeah. He is…” She looked back and winced. Marc was clearly speaking inside the pyramid. “He’s praying.”

            Marc and Steven’s talk isn’t going well, thought (Y/N), frowning worriedly.

            “Is he reaching into the sarcophagus?” said Mogart, frowning.

            “I’m sure he isn’t,” said Layla, but Marc was, guided by Steven.

            “Bek,” said Mogart, narrowing his eyes.

            Bek walked towards the pyramid, and with his back turned, Marc didn’t see him coming. Bek touched his arm.

            “Hey, what are you—”

            On instinct, Marc whirled, grabbed Bek’s gun with the skill a common man shouldn’t have, and pointed it at the mercenary. Instantly, two other guards pulled out their guns and pointed at Marc, Layla, and (Y/N), ready at any instant to shoot any of them.

            “Marc. Don’t,” said Layla, glancing at the guards warily.

            “Shit.” Marc looked between Layla, (Y/N), and the guns trained on them.

            “Marc…” said (Y/N), swallowing, unsure.

            Marc’s eyes met theirs, and he let his grip on the gun loosen, handing it back to Bek and holding his hands up.

            They were trapped.

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[jarofstyles]

Stay Right Here

This is a variation of Alpharry prince and Omega Maid… I hope you enjoy <3 sorry in advance.

Check out our Patreon!

WC: 1.6 k

Warnings: slight angst, ABO dynamics, smut, knotting mention

—————

“No one smells as divine as you do.” His nose buried in the crook of her neck, Y/N laid on his bed with her fingers gently combing through his hair. It was hard to be a prince. Y/N knew just as well as anyone, being on the palace property, that he had a lot of work to do and a lot of appearances to keep. Especially considering she was his chosen confidant.

“Thank you, my prince.” Her breathy voice was soft, a smile lighting her face as she felt him grumble and nibble on her skin.

“Harry or Alpha in this room.”

His pout could be felt when he released her flesh from his skin. “I am not a prince here. I am but a simple Alpha, laying with his dream omega.” The words were bittersweet. So sweet because she loved that out of all th omegas, all the people in the kingdom and the faraway lands he had travelled, she was his dream. Bitter because she could not have him. That one day, he would be betrothed to an omega of nobility. They usually avoided that topic unless it was to praise her.

“I apologize, Alpha.” She sweetened her tone, ignoring the twinge of pain she knew his heart matched. “I know you’ve had a hard day. It saddens me that you are put under such burdens.” Her voice was a vibration against him, making him relax further into her plushy body. Warm, soft, beautiful. Harry adored each and every inch. Every touch made him light up, melt, be in a puddle of the things he had been in need of and no one else could provide.

“No apologies.” He mumbled, puckering his lips on her bare skin, travellling down. “Having you nude in my chambers at the end of the day is enough of a blessing for me to overlook it. My beautiful gift.” His body was also nude, strong and unblemished besides the ink on his skin and the little scars on his knuckles from sparring, and the one on his knee from falling from a tree when he was but a pup. It had been the last time he had done so, as his father had deemed him too old for pup like behaviors- He was only 7 years at that point.

“Of course.” She replied, body arching into his touch. Y/N had felt like his since they’d met. She had begun her work at the palace when he had been on a voyage to a faraway kingdom. It was fine work, they were treated and paid fairly, and it was calm besides the balls and the pre planned dinner parties. It had been 2 months of calm, destroyed by green eyes and a killer smirk when he arrived back home.

Harry had personally requested Y/N to be his maid. His personal one. She had looked so tired at his arrival ball, so beautiful, smelling so sweet.. he felt it to be criminal to let an omega like that be worked to the bone when she could tend to him and his needs. There weren’t too many. She stoked his fire when he lit one, prepared his ritual baths, folded and set out his clothes… and soon enough, warmed his bed.

It was no secret. It could not be. His scent overpowered her own, but the royals did not care so long as she kept up with her duties and harry, his. It wasn’t uncommon for royal men to sample the offerings, and Y/N had been more than willing. They had a lovely connection and she had been able to keep the prince’s temper in control. There was also the fact that she and harry spent so much time around one another that their rut and heat corresponded, making it perfect to keep them together out of convenience. Harry need not take on any omega for his rut that they would need to check the background of, no need to question the motives. She was a benefit to the crown, so long as she knew her place. Y/N didn’t speak out of turn around other royals, aware of the position and blessing it seemed to be. They had made it abundantly clear that Harry was to marry a royal omega and she would go back to her other duties or be moved when that time came.

“You are safe now. This room is for us to relax and enjoy one another.” Harry spoke against warm skin, moving between her breasts and rubbing his face in between them. Scenting her, coating her in the second best claim he could give. “I had a hard day, but it is time for us now, sweet girl.” His lips puckered to kiss right between her breasts, slowly making his way down to her stomach. This was their fantasy world. The lock was bolted, no one could disturb their peace but themselves, and Y/N was not one to interrupt the prince when he began to drift into their dream life.

It was foolish, perhaps, to pretend to be mates in the safety net of this room. Foolish and destined for heartbreak, but when he kissed her stomach and mumbled about giving her a child in there, the rest of the world melted away and she allowed herself to imagine it. To imagine a piece of him inside of her.

When he made his way up and locked their lips, her legs spread open for him, awaiting what she knew they’d both needed after a long day. His lips swallowed her broken moan as he pushed into her, filling her to the brim as he smoothed her hair back from her cheek. The connection between their bodies, the pulsing of his thick cock filling her up comforted her. This was them. Naked and connected, relaxing in the most intimate way possible.

“I need it.” Pleas were soft against his lips, hands smoothing down his muscled back as she wrapped her legs around his hips. “Alpha.. please.” Her swollen lips from his hour of kissing beforehand and her silky skin from their shared bath felt like heaven against the alpha’s body. This was what he always craved. Her honeyed scent and her sweet cunt wrapped around him while she pleaded for him. Someone who adored him and he adored in ways that were unfathomable to him. She had a faith and an adoration for him that he had always dreamt of. No one could ever be better for him than this omega. This dream woman.

“I’ll give you whatever it is you want. My light.” He rasped against her lips, pushing as deep as possible and simply letting them enjoy the connection. The slick around his cock, the need to spill into her, her fluttering around him and trying to keep him in this deep position. “I know you’re craving a knot. I’ll give it to you, little angel of mine.” He rubbed their noses together, pulling out slowly and letting her feel every bump and ridge while he did the same thing. He pressed his lips back against hers to absorb her whine, growling back against her mouth while he repeated his actions and pushed in slow and steady. Her hole adjusted to him, sucking him back in greedily. Like she was made for him, pulling him in with her heels on the curve of his ass.

“So full. You fill me perfectly, Harry.” She looked at him with wet eyes, the stretch and the fullness making her tear up. No one else could ever or would ever make her feel this complete. “I don’t want anything but your cock inside of me. It’s made to fill me and I’m made for your knot. I need it so badly I ache.” She cupped his cheek. “Please, please. Pleasure yourself too. I’ve been dreaming of it all day long.”

Harry couldn’t say no to her. Never could tell her no when she made him feel as if he was floating despite the weights on his shoulders. Made him defy gravity when everyone else was trying to keep him buried in the earth. Y/N built him up.

“I’ve dreamt of you all day long. Having your scent on me isn’t enough.” He grumbled, angling his hips a bit further out to give it to her deeper. The reward was instant, tightening up around him and her keening whine as fingers dug into the flesh of his back. “Need you wrapped around my cock all day. Need you in my lap, smell you from the source as I work. I’m going mad. I want to bite your neck and keep you attached to my knot. Perfect omega f’me.”

Y/N keened as she felt the satisfying filling of him. In and out, filling her to the brim each time. Sparks ignited behind her eyes as he pushed her to her limits, reaching spots only he ever could. She had tried to replicate it with her fingers but nothing could compare. No one got her this wet, slicking up the length so much there was a threat to slip out each time he pulled back enough to fully thrust back in. Something Harry moaned about.

“Dripping cunt, so soft for me. I want to stay here.” He melted into her neck, nipping at the skin. His teeth ached, he wanted to bite so badly it made him whine- but he couldn’t. Not without consequences, consequences that would be worse for her than him and he loved her far too much than to make that hell happen for her. “I want to stay right here. My heaven.”

If only he could.