#thinner path
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mickedy · 9 months ago
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I love that if you use Thinner during Hook's fight you just sort of ruin his whole thing. It's a funny visual
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bingo-dingo · 2 years ago
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alanisstonedd · 3 months ago
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MDNI - sexual content
an: it’s that time yall…
i need a big boy to love on me like it’s his only job on this damn earth.
the slow ascent over his lap feeling more like mounting a horse. the feel of his strong hands gripping at the plush of your hips. the tug and pull at each others clothes while your lips lock in the slowest, wettest fuck. his scorching tongue in your mouth feels like he’s reaching into you for your soul already and the firm fingers in your hair make sure he gets exactly what he wants.
he can’t help but grind up into your heat on instinct, the slow roll of his hips intoxicating you. the heat spreading through your core and straight up your spine, unable to keep your mouth shut. the rhythmic back-and-forth of humping fully clothed, no time to take any clothes off. his hands sear a path over every inch of skin he can get to, yours content in his hair too focused on rocking your clit over the throbbing bulge in his shorts. a concentrated frown etched into his strong features, sparkling eyes locked on your thrown back head.
his hot mouth going straight for your bared neck, addicted to the taste of your skin. he’s laving at anything his mouth can reach, sucking at your nipples like the feel of them in his mouth alone is enough to make him bust - your whole chest glistening by the time he’s done.
the rushed struggle to stuff yourself with every thick inch he has, clothes still on, mouthing at his lips. him thrusting up into you short and fast, grunting against your collar bone, palms firmly planted on your hips. chest to chest, you can feel every breath he intakes, the outtake fanning over your wet, pebbled, buds. his solid arms caging you in, making damn sure you take everything he’s giving.
he has to back up just to see you in all your glory, pushing at your belly, still canting up into you with no problem. his mouth hangs open in bliss, floored at the the clench of you around him when he man handles you down to the hilt, hitting a spot so deep you think you see tweety birds.
he flips you both over like it’s nothing, his belly up against yours, his pudge and happy trail rubbing your clit just right. the weight he puts behind his thrusts hitting you like a mack truck. it makes you dizzy, the way he’s putting his all into it yet completely unfazed by the way you can’t shut your mouth. his lazy thumbing at your sensitive clit sending you up the wall. he keeps you on the edge for as long as you can stand, heaving breaths into his mouth from the force of his thrusts.
he’s nasty with it, biting at your lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself lingering on his tongue from earlier. he’s flipping into whatever position gets the loudest moans out of you, massaging the plush of your thighs and up your back like that’ll ease the punch of his hips. he heaves into your neck, gripping at you like the heat of you around him is wearing his sanity thinner than is possible.
he don’t care about the mess, the splat splat of the wetness in between you both makes you even wetter, the gush around him calls for teeth biting, groans, and hot tongue on the column of your throat. you moan like you haven’t had a homemade meal in years - the palpable hunger for you that seeps out of him when you buck up onto his leaking dick, is only thing that can quell your hunger.
when you’re on your side, thigh stretched up in his hold, the soft muscle of him envelopes you from behind. he reaches so deep with every thrust you think he can feel how much you need his dick. it overwhelms your senses, his baccarat, your miss dior, and the thick musk of sex
FANUM, price, dadbod!simon, ony
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joeyfromthetrack · 2 months ago
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Midnight in Algarve - OP⁸¹
Oscar Piastri x Norris!Reader
Summary: The younger sister of Lando Norris, has spent three years quietly crushing on his teammate, Oscar Piastri. During a birthday getaway in Portugal, with their rooms side by side and the pressure of the paddock behind them, years of unspoken tension come to a head as Oscar and Y/n finally admit their feelings and cross the line from longing to something real.
Contains: smut (18th+ only), fluff, mentions of alcohol, (some) use of Y/n
Word count: 2.4k
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Y/n Norris had always been good at pretending.
Pretending she was fine when strangers at paddocks asked if she was dating one of the drivers. Pretending not to notice when journalists used her as a footnote in Lando’s rising stardom. And especially pretending not to look too long at Oscar Piastri.
Three years ago, she’d first met him at her brother’s post-race dinner in Barcelona. She was 20, fresh off exams, wide-eyed and exhausted, sipping wine like it was a survival tactic. Oscar had been seated across from her —grinning, tan, leaning back in his chair comfortably, not cockily like her brother does, he had the shy and polite factor about him.
“So, you’re the famous Y/n,” he’d said, offering his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Her heart had betrayed her with a skip even then.
She remembered how he made her laugh so hard she nearly choked on her drink. Remembered the flicker in his eyes when she touched his arm as she leaned in to whisper something. His eyes - they were so gorgeous, so soft, so inviting, she just wanted to stare into them forever.
But the night had ended, as they always did, with a hug, a casual “see you around,” and the unspoken understanding that she was off-limits. She was Lando’s little sister. That was the boundary—silent but impossible to ignore.
And yet, he kept showing up in small ways.
He always greeted her first when they crossed paths at races. Remembered the coffee she ordered at the team hospitality every race, he started having one already made for her for when she arrived shortly after him at races.
Every interaction lingered longer than it should have. Every accidental brush of shoulders or locked glance stirred something electric under her skin. And always—always—they both looked away too quickly, both of their faces flushing what they were both sure was a bright red.
Now, in Portugal, almost three years of pining, proximity, and polite distance were burning in the summer heat.
The holiday house Lando had booked for his 26th birthday was sprawling and sunlit, filled with noise and movement. She had volunteered to help organise everything: the playlist, the food, the rooms. She’d found out she’d be staying in the room next to Oscar before he did.
That knowledge had haunted her for the days leading up to the trip.
The first night, she came out for water and found him barefoot, shirtless, sleepy-eyed. Her mouth had gone dry.
“Midnight hydration club?” he’d teased.
She’d nodded, unable to form words at first.
It was like that, always: the flutter in her chest, the need to act normal. It was exhausting.
There was no interaction after that, she sat in silence on the cool stone of the countertop, sipping from her water bottle and Oscar left the room a minute later, looking back at her momentarily.
Oscar was no better.
From the moment he met her, she had settled under his skin in a way no one else had. She was sharp-witted, sweet and terrifyingly smart (unlike her brother). He remembered her laugh in Barcelona. The one where her whole face lit up. He’d heard it only a few times since—each one burned into memory.
He told himself it was just a crush. That it would pass.
It didn’t.
He kept it all quiet. Because of Lando. Because of timing.
But it didn’t stop the wanting.
Now, in Portugal, the walls between them felt thinner than ever—literally and metaphorically. He caught glimpses of her on the terrace, at breakfast, air drying her hair on the balcony. Every time she laughed, he looked up like he’d been summoned.
That night, when the party was in full swing, he found himself drifting upstairs before midnight, needing air. Or space. Or just the faint hope that he might bump into her.
She found him instead, sitting outside his room with a beer in hand.
“You’re hiding,” she said, sinking down beside him.
“You first.”
She smiled. “I love my brother to pieces, but this isn't my scene.”
He hummed in agreement. She looked tired, but still luminous—bare shoulders, flushed cheeks, hair curling slightly from the sea air.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“Dangerous,” she teased.
He smirked, but then turned serious. “About you.”
She stilled.
“I think about you more than I should,” he said softly. “Always have.”
She turned to face him fully, heart thudding. "You've been drinking Osc." She told him softly.
He held up the beer in his hand, unopened. "Haven't had any actually." She stays silent, unsure of how to react. He let out a quiet breath. “Three years.”
“Three years,” she echoed, she could hear her own heartbeat at blood pulses in her ears.
“Do you know how hard it’s been not to look at you too long? Not to sit next to you at dinner or ask for your number when Lando’s not around?”
She smiled, crooked. “You could’ve.”
“I was scared.”
She looked at him then—not just glanced, but really looked. Saw the flicker of nerves, the earnestness underneath the easy charm. “I’m scared too,” she admitted.
A silence settled over them. The air buzzed with everything unsaid.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, voice low, reverent. Her breath caught.“But only if you want me to,” he added.
She leaned in, so close he could smell the citrus in her shampoo. “I’ve been waiting three years for you to say that.”
And then, finally, they kissed.
It wasn’t fireworks. It was relief. It was three years of what-ifs melting into what was. Her fingers in his hair. His hands gentle at her waist. They moved like they’d done this before, in dreams or imagined moments.
The pull apart momentarily, looking into the depths of each others before leaning back in, lips locking again in a soft but passionate kiss.
The kiss deepened, and she felt herself drowning in him. His lips were firm yet gentle, his hands on her waist, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, and for a moment, the world around them ceased to exist.
Suddenly they were standing, he tapped her thigh, motioning for her to jump. So she did, wrapping her legs around his waist, his hand moving to ass to support her, lips still locked, breathing heavy between the both of them. She knew what was going to happen, her heart was pounding but she was going to let it happen, it's all she's wanted for three years.
He led her into his room, kicking the door shut behind them and he placed her down on the edge of the bed, he bends over, hands either side of her body so his face is level with hers.
They shared a soft moment both of them understanding each other's feelings just through their eyes, both in agreeance with what was about to happen.
“You’re so beautiful,” Oscar murmured, his breath warm against her skin as he pulled her shirt off, revealing the lace bra beneath. His eyes darkened with desire, and Y/n felt a flush spread across her chest.
“Oscar,” she whispered, her voice trembling as his lips trailed down her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His touch was confident yet respectful, as if he knew exactly how much she needed to be cherished.
He paused, his hands resting on her hips as he looked up at her. "Baby, are you sure you wanna do this?" he said, his voice rough with need.
“I'm so sure,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a string of words only for their ears.
Oscar’s expression softened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing hers once more. “Then let me show you how much I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his hands moving to her bra, unhooking it with practiced ease.
She closed her eyes as he slid the straps down her arms, her breasts exposed to his gaze. She felt a mix of fear and excitement, her heart racing as his hands cupped her, his thumbs brushing her nipples. A soft moan escaped her lips, and she tilted her head back, surrendering to the sensations flooding her body.
“You’re perfect,” Oscar whispered, his lips trailing down her chest, his tongue teasing her nipple until she arched into his touch. His hands moved to her skirt, his fingers deftly unzipping it as he kissed his way down her stomach.
She gasped as her skirt fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her panties. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but Oscar’s gaze was so full of adoration that she couldn’t feel anything but desired.
He knelt before her, his hands resting on her thighs as he looked up at her. He said her name, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside her.
Oscar’s hands moved to her panties, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he slid them down her legs. She shivered as they fell to the floor, leaving her completely bare. She felt his gaze on her, warm and hungry, and she couldn’t help but squirm under his attention.
“You’re so beautiful,” he repeated, his voice a whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing her inner thigh. She gasped, her hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way closer to her core. "Such a pretty girl." He said against the skin of her thigh.
“Oscar,” she breathed, her voice a plea as his lips hovered just above her core, his breath teasing her.
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice commanding yet gentle.
She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing as she met his gaze. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I want you to make me feel… everything.”
Oscar’s expression softened, and he leaned in, his lips finally pressing against her, his tongue teasing her clit in a way that made her cry out. His touch was skilled, his mouth moving with a rhythm that had her squirming, her body arching off the bed.
“Oscar,” she moaned, her hands gripping his hair as he sucked gently, his tongue flicking in a way that sent waves of pleasure through her.
Her moans and whimpers were like music to his ears, only encouraging his actions in pleasuring her. She felt herself spiraling, her body tightening as she neared the edge.
“Come for me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he continued his ministrations. “Let go, honey.”
His words were her undoing. She cried out, her body shaking as she climaxed, her release overwhelming in its intensity. Oscar held her through it, his hands gentle on her thighs as she rode out the waves of pleasure.
When she finally came down, She was breathless, her body limp as she leaned back against the bed. Oscar sat up, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
She nodded, her voice too weak to form words. She reached out, her hand resting on his cheek as she pulled him in for another kiss. It was softer this time, a tender exchange that spoke of everything they couldn’t say.
“Oscar,” she pants. “Please…”
He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire. “Please what, honey?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. “Tell me what you want.”
She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. “I want you to take me,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “All of me.”
Oscar’s eyes flared with a primal intensity, he stood to take his shirt and shorts along with his boxers off and he kissed her deeply, his hands moving to her thighs, spreading them wide. Her breath hitched as he positioned himself between her legs, his erection pressing against her core. Her eyes wide as she took in his naked form.
“Ready for me?” he asked, his voice a husky command.
She nodded, her eyes locked on his. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m yours, Oscar. All of me.”
He thrust into her in one smooth motion, filling her completely. She gasped, her head tipping back as he began to move, his hips snapping with a rhythm that was both urgent and deliberate. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure as he claimed her with a ferocity that left no doubt of his devotion.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against hers. “So fucking perfect.”
She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back as she met his thrusts with equal fervor. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion—the slick rhythm of their bodies, their ragged breaths, and the occasional soft curse that escaped Oscar’s lips.
“Harder,” she pleaded, her voice desperate. “Please, Oscar, harder.”
He obliged, his movements becoming more forceful, his hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her with a primal intensity. She cried out, her body trembling on the edge of release, every thrust pushing her closer to the edge.
“Come for me, honey,” Oscar commanded, his voice hoarse with need. “Let go.”
His words were her undoing. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body convulsing around him as she cried out his name. Oscar followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he filled her with his release, his deep groans of pleasure echoing in the room.
For a long moment, they remained locked together, their hearts pounding in unison, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Oscar withdrew gently, his hand brushing a stray curl from her forehead as he looked down at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache.
He kissed her softly, a promise sealed in the tender press of their lips. As they lay entwined in the aftermath of their passion.
When they broke apart, she laughed—a small, breathless sound.
“We’re screwed,” she said.
“Completely,” he agreed, grinning.
“But happy?”
“Very.”
Outside, the sea kept whispering against the cliffs, but inside, a different kind of tide had turned.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
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mahalachives · 4 months ago
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Adapting to Human Fragility
Pairing: azriel x fem reader (human mate)
Word count: 1.2k
Summary: Azriel is used to Fae strength and resilience. Seeing you bruise easily, tire faster, or become ill shakes him—but he steps up to care for you in the sweetest ways.
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‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚
The first time Azriel saw you bruise, really saw the way the purpled skin bloomed too easily beneath his fingertips, something in him shifted. He had been tracing absent-minded circles along your arm while you talked, his usually featherlight touch unconsciously pressing just a bit too firmly. When you winced and pulled back, he frowned.
"What is it?" His voice was low, cautious.
You glanced down and sighed. "You didn't mean to, but… you left a bruise."
Azriel’s eyes darted to the soft mark already forming—a faint shadow against your human skin. His jaw tensed, his wings flexing behind him.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, pulling his hand back as though you were made of glass.
You shook your head, reaching for him again, but his shadows curled around his fingers, keeping them locked at his sides. "Az, it’s nothing. I'm human, remember? We bruise easily. It’s not a big deal."
But it was. At least to him.
From that moment on, you noticed a change in him—small things at first, like the way he walked closer to your side when you ventured into Velaris, his hand hovering near your lower back as if he anticipated every uneven cobblestone sending you toppling. Or the way his shadows flickered around your feet when you trained, sensing every misstep before you even realized you might trip.
And then there were the bigger things.
​​・・・・・​​⟢
"You need to rest."
You rolled your eyes at Azriel’s firm tone but didn’t stop climbing the narrow mountain path beside him. "I’m fine."
"You’re not fine," he countered, his wings ruffling in agitation. "You’re winded."
You were. But you weren’t about to admit it. The Illyrian mountain air was thinner than what you were used to, and while Azriel barely seemed to notice, your human lungs burned from the altitude. Still, you pressed forward, determined not to let him baby you.
Azriel sighed heavily behind you. Then, before you could react, his arms were around your waist, and your feet were suddenly no longer touching the ground.
"Azriel!" you yelped as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you like you weighed nothing.
"You’re overexerting yourself," he said simply, ignoring your protests. "You wouldn’t last another ten steps without needing a break."
"This is unfair," you grumbled, your cheek pressing against his chest as he flew you up the rest of the trail.
"You say unfair. I say efficient."
Despite yourself, you melted into his warmth. His scent—leather, cedar, and something darker—surrounded you, and the steady beat of his wings lulled your body into reluctant relaxation. He wasn’t wrong. You’d needed the rest. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t complain about it later.
By the time he landed at the overlook, he set you down carefully, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Next time, just tell me when you need a break," he said softly.
You sighed, looking out at the breathtaking view of Velaris below. "Next time, I’ll try."
He hummed, skeptical, but pressed a kiss to your forehead anyway.
​​・・・・・​​⟢
The first thing you registered was the warmth.
A heavy weight draped over your shoulders, tucked snugly around your body. The second thing you registered was Azriel’s voice—a deep, soothing murmur—reading something softly into the quiet air.
Blinking, you turned your head to find him sitting beside you, book in hand, eyes scanning the pages before flickering toward you when he sensed you waking.
"You're awake," he murmured, setting the book aside. His shadows swirled near the bedside table, shifting restlessly as if they, too, had been watching over you.
You groaned, burrowing further under the thick blankets. Your throat was raw, your limbs aching with the telltale weight of a fever.
"How long was I asleep?" you croaked.
"A few hours," he answered, smoothing his palm over your forehead. "You were burning up, so I stayed with you."
You glanced at the bedside table—there was a half-empty bowl of soup, a cup of tea that had long gone cold, and another book stacked beneath the one he had just set down. He had been here the whole time.
"You didn’t have to fuss over me," you mumbled, though the affection in your voice was clear.
Azriel gave you a look—one of those unreadable, quiet stares that made your heart flutter despite your miserable state. "Of course I did," he said simply.
Before you could respond, he was reaching for the fresh bowl of soup he must have made while you were sleeping. He lifted the spoon, blowing gently before bringing it to your lips.
"Az," you protested weakly, but he ignored you, tilting the spoon just enough for you to sip the warm broth.
"You take care of everyone else," he murmured, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "Let me take care of you."
Your throat tightened, but this time, it had nothing to do with the fever.
You swallowed thickly, nodding. "Okay."
His lips ghosted over your temple, lingering just long enough to make your fevered skin flush for an entirely different reason.
"Good," he whispered.
​​・・・・・​​⟢
The fever broke by morning. You woke feeling lighter, though still exhausted, your limbs like lead as you shifted under the covers. Azriel was still beside you, his wings folded neatly against his back, his shadows flickering gently around the bedframe.
"You didn’t sleep, did you?" you asked softly.
"I dozed."
You arched a brow. "Liar."
His lips twitched, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he exhaled and took your hand, tracing idle patterns along your palm. His touch was so achingly careful, like he was afraid you might break.
"Az," you murmured, watching the way his fingers ghosted over your skin. "I’m not made of glass."
"I know."
"Do you?"
His jaw clenched. "I just…" He trailed off, searching for the words. "You're so—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I could snap a Fae warrior’s arm without a second thought, but if I hold you too tight, I might bruise you." His thumb brushed over your wrist, where a faint mark from your last sparring session with Cassian remained.
"You think I don’t know that?" You curled your fingers around his. "I know what I am, Azriel. I know I’m not as strong as you. But I also know I can handle myself. My fragility doesn’t make me weak."
He swallowed hard, nodding. "I don’t think you’re weak." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I just—" He hesitated before finishing, "I don’t want to be the reason you hurt."
You squeezed his hand, tilting your head to press a kiss against his knuckles. "You’re not."
His eyes flickered to yours, and something in his expression softened. A slow, steady exhale left his lips. He didn’t argue this time.
Instead, he shifted closer, tucking you against his chest, his wings wrapping around you in a protective cocoon. You listened to his heartbeat, steady and sure, as his arms curled around your waist.
"I love you," you whispered against his skin.
His hold on you tightened just slightly—still careful, still mindful—but no longer hesitant.
"I love you too," he murmured.
And despite your lingering exhaustion, despite the fragile bones and mortal skin, you had never felt stronger.
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writeriguess · 25 days ago
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can't get this outta my headddd! Fem reader x barbarian bakugo but in a 'mulan' situation-like where she's disguised as a boy to fight with Bakugo, her childhood friend and love, but one day Bakugo finds her bathing and realizes the guy he bad grown to trust in battle was actually the girl he grew up and fell in love with-and sexy times happen because fuck he missed her and had been wanting to confess to her.
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Under the Same Sky
The battlefield had hardened you, but the nights were the hardest.
The weight of your armor, the way it pressed against the bruises blooming beneath your tunic, was nothing compared to the way you had to carry yourself—straight-backed, chin up, voice gruffer than it had ever been. You weren’t just another soldier; you were one of the boys.
You had to be.
Bakugo never looked twice. Never questioned why your voice was softer on some days or why you turned away when the others stripped down after a long battle to wash in the river. If he thought you were a little more careful, a little more reserved than the others, he must’ve chalked it up to war making you wary. And fuck, how you wanted to tell him. Every day, standing by his side, sword in hand, watching his back as he watched yours—it killed you that he didn’t know.
But that would mean losing all of this. Losing him.
So you kept your secret close.
Until the night he found you.
The camp was still, quiet save for the distant crackling of the fire and the occasional snore from some poor bastard too tired to keep watch. You slipped away like always, into the dense cover of the trees, your feet knowing the path by heart. The river wasn’t far, and tonight, the need to feel clean—if only for a moment—overpowered the risk.
You pulled off the bindings first, letting out a quiet breath at the relief of pressure against your ribs. The layers of grime, sweat, and blood-stiffened fabric followed. Finally, you waded into the cool water, letting it ease the aches you never let show.
You had no idea you weren’t alone.
The snap of a twig froze you. Your head jerked up, eyes locking onto the one thing you never wanted to see at this moment.
Bakugo stood at the riverbank.
At first, he didn’t react, his crimson eyes flickering over you, confusion knitting his brow. Then, all at once, realization slammed into him like a war hammer to the chest. His breath hitched, body going rigid as if you’d just landed a clean strike.
“What the fuck—?” His voice was hoarse, raw.
You moved before thinking, sinking deeper into the water, arms crossing over your chest despite knowing it was useless. “Bakugo—”
“Since when?!” He took a step forward, fists clenched. The muscles in his jaw worked, his expression twisting—anger, disbelief, something else, something wild and unreadable. “Since when have you—? How long have you been lying to me?!”
The way his voice cracked sent something sharp through your ribs.
“I had to,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “They wouldn’t have let me fight. Wouldn’t have let me stay with you.”
His eyes widened, and you saw the exact moment that realization settled into his bones.
“You fucking idiot,” he growled, stepping even closer to the edge of the river. “You could’ve died—I could’ve killed you out there without even knowing—!”
“But you didn’t,” you shot back, and gods, your heart hurt with how much you wanted to go to him, to reach out and pull him close like you used to before all of this. “I trained for this. I fought for this. And I—” Your throat tightened. “I wanted to be by your side.”
Bakugo sucked in a sharp breath, hands trembling at his sides.
You thought he’d be furious. Thought he’d storm away and leave you there, cursing your name.
But instead, he let out a choked, broken sound.
“You’re fucking insane.” His voice was lower now, something dark and desperate lurking beneath it. “You’re insane—and I’m a fucking idiot for not seeing it.”
Your breath hitched.
The space between you felt thinner than a blade’s edge.
Bakugo’s hands curled into the fabric of his tunic, his whole body tense, like he was barely holding himself back. And then, with a muttered curse, he turned on his heel, dragging both hands through his hair.
“Fuck.” His voice was rough. He stopped, shoulders heaving, then turned back toward you. “Get out of the water.”
You stared at him. “What—?”
“Now,” he snapped, but there was something strained in it. Something like fear.
You hesitated only a moment before obeying, water cascading off you as you waded back to shore, arms wrapped around yourself. He didn’t look away. Didn’t turn his back, didn’t even try. His eyes were locked on yours, intense, burning.
You expected him to shove his coat at you, to curse and tell you to cover up, but instead, he just stood there, gaze raking over you like he was memorizing something he should’ve known all along.
Then, so quietly you barely heard it—
“It was always you.”
Your breath caught.
Bakugo swallowed hard, fingers twitching at his sides. His voice was rough when he spoke again, low and unsteady. “You were always with me. I just—I didn’t fucking—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.
“I should’ve known.”
You felt something hot prick at your eyes. “Would it have changed anything?”
He went still.
The air between you felt fragile.
Finally, his jaw tightened. His voice was soft, but firm.
“I wouldn’t have let you come.”
Your heart clenched.
“But you did.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah.”
You took a shaky step closer. “And now?”
Bakugo didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Then, slowly, he reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against your arm—light, uncertain, like he was touching something sacred.
His voice was hoarse when he spoke.
“You’re not leaving my side again.”
And you didn’t.
The moment Bakugo’s fingers brushed your skin, something inside him snapped.
It wasn’t just about realizing who you were—it was about everything. The years you spent together as children, the way he’d always been drawn to you, the way he felt whole when you fought beside him. The rage and relief tangled in his chest, knowing you had been right there all along, and he’d been too blind to see it.
And now, with the moonlight casting shadows over your bare skin, water glistening along your curves, lips parted in that way that had haunted him for years—he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Fuck—” The curse was barely a breath before he closed the distance between you, grabbing you by the waist and dragging you flush against his body. His hands were rough, calloused from war, but the way they gripped your hips, your ribs, the small of your back—it was desperate.
“Bakugo—”
His name was barely out of your mouth before his lips crashed against yours, all heat and hunger and something deeper, darker. He kissed like he fought—fierce, unrelenting, like he was claiming you, devouring you.
You gasped against him, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, swallowing your soft moan.
“Fucking—” He tore his mouth from yours, panting against your lips as his hands roamed lower, squeezing, gripping. “Do you have any fucking idea—how long—I’ve wanted you?”
Your breath hitched, fingers digging into his tunic, pulling him closer. “Tell me.”
Bakugo groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. “You think I just trusted any bastard to fight beside me? Hah?” His hands slid lower, fingers teasing along the dip of your spine. “You think I didn’t know something was different about you?”
You whimpered as he traced the curve of your ass, squeezing hard enough to make your knees buckle. “You—” You gasped when he suddenly lifted you off your feet, hands gripping under your thighs, forcing you to wrap around him. “Bakugo—!”
His lips were on your neck before you could say another word, teeth scraping over sensitive skin, sucking hard enough to make you arch against him.
“You’re mine,” he growled against your throat. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone says—I don’t give a fuck about this war.” His teeth sank into your shoulder, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “You hear me?”
You nodded frantically, nails raking down his back. “Y-Yes—”
“Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, tilting your head to give him more room, shivering as his tongue soothed over the bite.
Bakugo let out a guttural sound, carrying you out of the water, your wet skin pressing against his still-clothed body. He didn’t stop until he had you pinned against the nearest tree, his body caging you in.
“Fuck,” he panted, grinding against you, letting you feel how painfully hard he was beneath his armor. “You kept this from me for so long—you have no idea how bad I wanted to take you back home, lock you in my fucking tent, and keep you all to myself.”
Your head spun at his words, heat pooling in your stomach. “Then take me now.”
That was all it took.
Bakugo ripped at the ties of his tunic, shrugging it off in one swift motion before pressing against you again, skin to skin, heat to heat. His lips were back on yours, hungrier this time, hands everywhere—gripping your thighs, your waist, sliding between your legs to where you were already dripping for him.
“Shit,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through your slick folds. “You’re soaked.”
You whimpered, bucking against his hand. “Please—”
“Please,” he mocked, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. “Fuckin’ war-hardened soldier, and you’re begging like a desperate little thing.” His fingers teased your entrance, not quite pushing in. “You want my fingers, baby? Hah? Or you want something else?”
You whined, tugging at his belt. “You. I want you.”
Bakugo cursed under his breath, shoving his trousers down just enough to free himself.
The heat of him, the size of him, pressed thick and heavy against your inner thigh.
“Then take it,” he rasped. “Take all of it.”
He didn’t give you time to adjust—he pushed, sinking into you with a growl, stretching you wide around his cock, making you cry out.
“Fuck—” His head dropped to your shoulder, his entire body trembling as he buried himself to the hilt. “You feel so good—”
You clenched around him, and he snapped.
Gripping your thighs, he fucked into you, rough and unrelenting, dragging you against the tree with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the ragged moans, the filthy curses—it echoed through the trees, lost to the night.
“Mine,” he snarled against your lips. “You belong to me—”
“Yes—yes, Bakugo—!”
He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside you that made you scream. His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles, pushing you closer, higher—
“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice rough. “Cum all over my cock.”
Your body obeyed.
The pleasure hit like a tidal wave, pleasure bursting through your veins, your vision going white as you clenched around him, crying out his name.
Bakugo groaned, thrusting through your orgasm, chasing his own. “Fuck—gonna fill you up—gonna make sure everyone knows—”
With one last, deep thrust, he spilled inside you, grinding against you as he emptied himself, breathless and shaking.
For a long moment, neither of you moved.
Then, Bakugo lifted his head, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss against your lips.
“You’re not hiding from me again,” he muttered.
You smiled, weak but content. “Never.”
And for the first time in years, Bakugo felt whole.
580 notes · View notes
stylesispunk · 10 months ago
Text
'Silent Strain' | part I
Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
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summary: Joel and you knew that bringing a child into this mad world was a mistake, but he wanted to give you the best that was left of that world after all.
w.c: 12,6k (this was 5k at the beginning)
warnings: established relationship, age gap (Joel is 43 and Reader 32) angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, fluff, not proofreading, sorry. The events of this story happen 10 years after the outbreak.
a/n: New Sunday, new fic? This one was on my drafts and I thought about developing a little bit more because I wanted to write one where Joel wasn't an asshole. This may become a really short series. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading.
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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Mornings in the QZ were far from a story teller, always bleak as any other, somber and carrying the weight of the guilty grieving each people who has survived this far dealt with.
Many people had become the worst versions of themselves, just monsters they never thought they would be. Others woke up with the survivor’s guilt, after years of letting go their people, family and friends.
And others carried all that, but had found a little spark shinning on their path.
That was your case.
And Joel’s too.
You both had found each other just a few years after the world descended into chaos. After that, you become each other’s anchor until now.
Even when days seemed to be grayer, even when Joel seemed a bit lost after losing his contact with Tommy.
Even on days when the world seemed grayer, even when Joel seemed a little more distant—his thoughts lost somewhere along the frayed edges of his mind, burdened by the loss of contact with Tommy—you held on. You knew what he was feeling; it was a familiar ache, a common wound you both carried.
Tommy was Joel’s last person who shared his blood. His brother, his last piece of family and what the old world had left him.
But he also had you, and that made him alive.
You woke up slowly, the thin, rough blanket tangled around your legs, the mattress beneath you creaking as you shifted. The air was cold, seeping through the cracks in the walls, and the faint light of dawn barely penetrated the small, grimy window. Outside, you could hear the sounds of the QZ waking up, the distant, muffled voices of guards changing shifts, the echo of boots on concrete, and the occasional shout. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, trying to keep the chill at bay.
The room you and Joel shared was small, barely large enough for the bed and a rickety chair in the corner. Outside the doors, there was the rest of the old apartment that worked as a roof for the both of you, and Tess.
The walls were stained with years of neglect, paint peeling in long strips, revealing the bare concrete beneath. There was a small table near the window where a lone candle had burned down to a stub, wax pooling on the surface, solidifying in random patterns. It had been another long, sleepless night, the dark hours stretching on endlessly, and you could feel it in your bones, an ache that went deeper than simple tiredness.
You glanced over at Joel, still asleep beside you, his face etched with lines of worry even in rest. He lay on his side, one arm slung over his face, his brow furrowed as if he were fighting off some invisible enemy in his dreams. The mornings were hardest on him, you knew. Waking up to the same bleak reality day after day, the hope of finding Tommy growing thinner with each passing moment.
A wave of nausea hit you unexpectedly, a sudden queasiness that made your stomach twist. You shut your eyes, taking a slow, deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You hadn't been feeling well for a few days now, just a lingering discomfort you chalked up to the lack of proper food or maybe stress. Nothing in this world was kind to the body or the mind anymore.
You pushed yourself up, careful not to wake Joel, and swung your legs over the side of the bed, your feet touching the cold, cracked floor. The chill ran up your legs, making you shiver. You sat there for a moment, steadying yourself, pressing a hand against your stomach as if trying to calm the unease that rolled there. There was a strange heaviness to it, something that seemed different, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
The thought crossed your mind, quick and unbidden, a possibility you immediately pushed away. It was too absurd, too impossible to consider. Not here, not now, not in this broken world.
You rose to your feet, steadying yourself on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing against the melted wax. You glanced back at Joel, who still hadn’t stirred, his breathing deep and even. You knew he needed the sleep, needed a moment of peace, however fleeting. You moved quietly toward the window, peering out through the dirt-streaked glass. The world outside was shrouded in mist, the familiar shapes of the crumbling buildings barely visible in the pale morning light.
There was a time when you might have found the sight beautiful, in a melancholic way. Now it just seemed desolate. Empty.
Another wave of nausea hit, stronger this time, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, swallowing hard. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. You felt a sharp pang of fear, a sudden flash of panic that cut through the fog of morning fatigue. You forced it down, tried to stay calm. You couldn’t afford to be anything else.
From behind you, you heard the faint rustle of the bed as Joel shifted, his voice rough and low. “You, okay?” he murmured, still half-asleep, his words slurred with exhaustion.
You turned to look at him, forcing a smile, though you weren’t sure he could see it in the dim light. “Yeah… just a bit cold,” you lied softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He blinked at you, eyes heavy-lidded, and then nodded, seeming to accept it. “Come back to bed,” he mumbled, his voice carrying a warmth that made something in your chest tighten. “It’s still early.”
For a moment, you hesitated, feeling the cold air around you, the uncertainty pressing in. But then you moved back to the bed, sliding in beside him, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the thin layers of fabric. He reached out, pulling you close, his arm draping over you protectively, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of safety as Joel stirred Joel stirred, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. “Are you sure you are, okay?” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
“Yeah,” you whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear the lie in your voice. “Just a headache.”
He kissed the top of your head, the simple gesture sending a pang of guilt through you. “You’ve been getting a lot of those lately,” he noted, concern creeping into his tone.
You forced a smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just stress, I think.”
He hummed in response, not entirely convinced but willing to let it go for now. He gently nudged you off his chest, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. His eyes searched your face, and you had to fight the urge to look away. Joel had a way of seeing right through you, and you were afraid he might catch a glimpse of the truth you were hiding.
He frowned, clearly not convinced. “You’ve been saying’ that a lot lately. Maybe you should rest today, stay in bed.”
You shook your head, knowing you couldn’t afford to take a day off. Life in the QZ was unforgiving, and everyone had to pull their weight. “I’ll be fine. We’ve got too much to do, and they’re already short-handed at the ration line.”
You forced yourself to follow suit, pushing through the lingering nausea as you pulled on your worn clothes. The headache throbbed with each movement, but you bit back the discomfort, determined not to let it show. Joel kept glancing over at you, as if expecting you to collapse at any moment, but you just offered him a reassuring smile, even if it didn’t reach your eyes.
Once you were both ready, you stepped out into the harsh reality of the QZ. The streets were crowded, people moving about with a sense of urgency, always on edge. You and Joel made your way through the throng, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you through the chaos.
At the ration line, the day passed in a blur of monotonous tasks—distributing food, managing the restless crowd, keeping an eye out for trouble. But the ache in your head never fully faded, and every now and then, you had to pause, closing your eyes for a moment to steady yourself.
Joel noticed, of course. He was always watching, always worrying, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff exterior. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked again when you took a brief break, his tone betraying his concern.
“Yeah, just… It’s probably just the air or something,” you said, shrugging it off. But you could tell he didn’t believe you.
“See you later, then?” he asked before parting ways with you to your different duties.
“Yeah, see you later,” you replied, forcing a smile, trying to reassure him. Joel lingered for a moment, his eyes searching yours, he planted a kiss on your lips before turning to head off to his assigned area. You watched him go, feeling a mix of guilt and relief. You hated lying to him, but what could you say? That the world seemed to be spinning just a little bit too fast? That every time you bent over, a wave of nausea washed over you? It would only make him worry more.
The hours dragged on, the sun creeping across the sky, bringing with it a sticky heat that clung to your skin. By midday, your headache had grown worse, a steady throb that pounded behind your eyes. The noise of the crowd seemed to amplify the pain, voices blending into a harsh cacophony. You rubbed at your temples, willing it to stop, but it only seemed to make it worse.
At one point, while lifting another crate filled with canned goods, a sharp pain shot through your abdomen, causing you to drop the box with a loud thud. A few people nearby turned to look, but you waved them off, trying to catch your breath. The soldier supervising the line glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “You good there?” he asked, his tone half-concerned, half-annoyed.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, bending down to retrieve the cans that had spilled onto the ground. Your hands shook slightly, and you felt a bead of sweat roll down your back. The soldier didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further, turning his attention back to the line.
“Then clean the mess you made” he ordered.
You nodded, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to rise again. “Yes, sir,” you replied, bending down to pick up the cans. Your fingers felt clumsy, and every time you moved, the pain in your abdomen seemed to sharpen, making it difficult to keep your breathing steady. Sweat dripped from your forehead, stinging your eyes, but you pushed through, determined not to draw any more attention to yourself.
As you gathered the last can, another wave of dizziness hit you, and you had to steady yourself against the crate to keep from toppling over. You glanced over your shoulder to see if the soldier was still watching, but he had already turned away, his focus elsewhere.
You took a deep breath, trying to will away the nausea, when you heard a familiar voice behind you. “Hey, you, okay?”
Turning, you saw Tess standing there, her face set in a concerned frown. “Yeah,” you lied, forcing a weak smile. “Just a rough day.”
Tess studied you for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t look so good,” she said quietly, stepping closer. “You’re pale… and sweating like hell.”
You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine, just… tired, I guess.”
Tess didn't seem convinced. Her sharp eyes swept over you, taking in every detail — the paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you held the cans. Her frown deepened, and you could practically feel the gears turning in her head.
“Look,” she said slowly, almost carefully, “I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying. And right now, you’re doing a pretty damn poor job of hiding whatever this is.”
Your heart started to pound in your chest, an uneasy thump that only made the nausea worse. You swallowed, glancing away from her probing stare. “I said I’m fine, Tess,” you repeated, but your voice came out too shaky, too uncertain. Even you didn’t believe it.
She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “Don’t bullshit me,” she murmured, her tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve been off for days now… the headaches, the dizziness. I’ve seen this before. And I’m pretty sure you know what I’m talking about.”
You stiffened, shaking your head quickly. “No, Tess,” you whispered, almost desperate. “It’s not that… it can’t be.”
Tess’s expression softened, but there was still a hint of stubbornness there, a determination to get through to you. “Listen,” she began, her voice a little gentler. “I’m not trying to scare you, but… you need to face this. If it’s what I think it is… then you’ve got a lot to figure out.”
“Please, Tess. Not now” you pleaded.
Tess hesitated, her eyes searching your face, but she nodded slowly, relenting — at least for the moment. "Alright," she said quietly, though the concern in her voice hadn’t faded. "But you can’t keep running from this forever."
You felt a lump in your throat as you looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "I just… I can’t think about it right now," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "There’s too much going on, and… Joel…"
Tess sighed, crossing her arms. "I get it," she replied softly. "But, you know, you’re not alone in this. Whatever it is, you’ve got people who care about you. Joel might be rough around the edges, but… he’s not going to turn his back on you. Not now, not ever."
You swallowed hard, nodding, though you still felt like you were balancing on a knife’s edge. "I know," you said, though doubt still gnawed at you. "It’s just…"
"It’s scary," Tess finished for you, and you could only nod again, feeling suddenly very small. "But you don’t have to go through it alone, alright?" she added, her voice softening. "I’ve got your back. Always."
You gave her a weak smile, grateful for her support, even if the fear still twisted inside you. "Thanks, Tess," you whispered.
She patted your shoulder, her touch gentle, almost sisterly. "Let’s get back to it," she said, glancing back toward the line. "But promise me… you’ll think about what I said."
You nodded again, though your mind was spinning with a hundred different thoughts. "I promise," you murmured, even though you weren't sure if you meant it.
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By the time you got back to the apartment, the sun was already low in the sky, casting long shadows through the broken blinds. Your legs felt heavy, your head still pounding from the stress of the day. As you pushed open the door, you were met with the stale, familiar scent of the small, dimly lit space that you and Joel called home. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet.
Your eyes scanned the room, and they quickly fell on Joel sprawled out on the bed, his face slack in sleep. But what caught your attention was the nearly empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the table next to him, beside a few scattered, white pills. A flare of anger ignited in your chest.
You walked over and grabbed the bottle, knocking it down onto the floor. The sound of the glass hitting the wood was loud, but Joel didn’t stir. Frustration bubbled up inside you. “Joel,” you called out sharply, but he remained still, lost in whatever numbness he’d sought.
With a forceful shove, you shook his shoulder, your voice rising. “Joel, wake up!” you demanded. His eyes fluttered open slowly, bleary and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, and groaned.
“What?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep and whatever haze the whiskey and pills had put him under.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “What the hell, Joel?” you spat out, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and worry. “You’re drinking and taking pills again? You promised me… you promised you’d stop!”
Joel blinked again, pushing himself up on one elbow, confusion and irritation crossing his face. “It’s just… it’s just to take the edge off,” he slurred, running a hand over his face. “You don’t get it.”
“No, I do get it,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “I get that you’re hurting, Joel, I get you want to know where Tommy is but this is not the way.”
Joel’s eyes narrowed, some of the grogginess leaving his gaze. “I’m trying,” he muttered, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “I’m doing the best I can, alright? It’s not that easy…”
You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “I need you, Joel,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I need you here, with me… not drowning in a bottle. We’re supposed to be in this together, remember?”
He looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you, heavy and tense. Finally, he let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “He is my brother, the only family I get left.” he muttered, almost too softly to hear.
“What about me?” you asked, voice trembling.
Damn, why were you getting so emotional.
Joel's brow furrowed, clearly caught off guard by your question. He blinked, as if trying to process your words, and then his expression softened. “What are you talking’ about?” he asked gently, taking a step closer to you. “Of course, you're my family. You know that. You’re everything.” His fingers brushed against your arm, tentative, as though he was still uncertain if you’d accept his touch.
You felt a lump forming in your throat, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Then why does it feel like I’m not enough?” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Joel's thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “You are, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady but soft. “I promise you are. I’m just… I’m scared. Scared of what could happen to you… to us.”
You looked up into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, a reassurance, anything to ease the turmoil inside you. "How are you feeling'?" he asked suddenly, his voice quieter, more tender than before.
The question caught you off guard. You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts. "I… I don’t know," you admitted honestly. “Tired…”
Joel nodded slowly, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest on your shoulder. “I know, I get it,” he said quietly. “But you gotta promise me… if there’s something’ wrong, you’ll tell me”
You nodded, “I promise.”
You wrapped your arms around Joel, pulling him into a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours was a small comfort, a fleeting sense of security in the chaos that seemed to be swirling around you. As you clung to him, the guilt and the weight of the hidden truth about your pregnancy settled heavily on your shoulders.
Joel held you close, his hand gently rubbing your back, his touch reassuring and steady. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his shoulder, the words escaping almost involuntarily. “I’m sorry for everything.”
Joel’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for,” he said softly. “We’re in this together, you hear me? We’ll get through it. We’ll figure it out.”
You nodded against him, feeling a mix of relief and deep-seated worry. The truth about the pregnancy was still looming, a secret that was becoming increasingly difficult to keep. Every time you looked at Joel, you could see the love and concern in his eyes, and it made the weight of your silence feel all the more burdensome.
As you slowly pulled away from the hug, you wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your emotions. Joel looked at you with a soft expression, his worry evident but tempered with the resolve to support you no matter what.
The thoughts of your pregnancy, the uncertainty of the future, and the fear of how this might change everything were still swirling in your mind. You felt a pang of guilt as you remembered Tess's words, and you struggled with the decision of when and how to reveal the truth.
Joel seemed to sense the inner conflict you were grappling with. “If you need space, or if you need to talk about it,” he began, his voice steady, “just let me know. I’m here for you, no matter what.” You nodded, forcing a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel. I… I just need a little time.”
He nodded in understanding, and as you both sat down, the silence between you was filled with an unspoken promise of support and love.
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You woke up a little later, feeling the soft warmth of Joel’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. For a moment, you simply lay there, savoring the comfort and the faint sense of security his presence provided. The room was quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of Joel’s breathing.
Gently, you eased yourself out of bed, careful not to disturb him. You tiptoed out of the bedroom, the coolness of the apartment a stark contrast to the warmth you’d left behind. As you walked through the small living space, you noticed that Tess was already up, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.
She looked up as you entered, her gaze softening. “Hey,” she said quietly, setting the cup down. “How’re you feeling?”
You offered her a small, tired smile. “Better, thanks,” you replied, taking a seat across from her. “I just needed some space to think.”
Tess nodded; her expression thoughtful. “Did you think about what I say?”
You took a deep breath, considering Tess's question. “A little,” you admitted, your voice soft. “It’s just been overwhelming, and I’m not sure how to handle everything yet.”
Tess studied you for a moment, her eyes reflecting both concern and a hint of sadness “And?” she reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over yours. “I understand it’s overwhelming,” she said gently. “But you have to face it.”
You glanced down at your hands, gripping the edge of the table as if it might anchor you to the present moment. The room felt too small, the weight of your thoughts pressing heavily on your shoulders. “It can’t be…I’m scared” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.
Tess took a deep breath, her expression softening. “Take the test, I’ll go with you” she said, showing support.
“Wha-wha-what? I don’t have any test” you said, voice trembling
Tess gave you a small, understanding smile, her hand still resting over yours. “I know,” she said softly. “But there’s a way to get one. I can ask around… discreetly. I have a contact who might be able to help.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through you. “You’d do that? For me?” The idea of someone knowing, of even a whisper of this spreading through the QZ, sent a chill down your spine. But the calm certainty in Tess’s eyes steadied you.
“Of course,” she replied without hesitation. “I’ve got your back, always. We’ve been through worse, haven’t we?”
You nodded slowly, though the tight knot in your stomach seemed to twist even more. “Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, trying to sound convinced, even though nothing had felt quite like this. “But what if… what if it’s true, Tess? What do I do then?”
Tess squeezed your hand gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Then we figure it out, step by step,” she said. “First things first, we need to know for sure. Until then, try not to let your mind spiral, okay?”
You swallowed hard, nodding again, though your mind was already a storm of thoughts and worries. You could feel the weight of this new reality settling onto your shoulders, heavier than anything you’d felt before. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try.”
Tess stood up, giving your hand one last comforting squeeze before letting go. “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow,” she promised. “Go back to bed and try to rest.”
Your mind raced with possibilities and fears as you made your way back to the small bedroom, trying to steady your breathing, to find some calm in the storm of your thoughts.
When you slipped back into the darkened room, Joel was still lying on his side, one arm stretched across the bed as if reaching for you even in sleep. You carefully lifted the blanket and slid back under it, trying not to wake him. But as soon as you settled in, his arm instinctively curled around your waist, pulling you close. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of safety.
Joel's voice came out in a sleepy murmur, rough around the edges. “Where were you?” he mumbled; his breath warm against your neck. You could feel the weight of his arm, heavy and reassuring, holding you as if he sensed your unease.
“Just… talking to Tess,” you whispered back, trying to keep your voice steady.
His grip around you tightened slightly, his thumb tracing small circles against your side. Even in his half-asleep state, there was a protectiveness in the way he held you. “Everything okay?” he asked, still drowsy, but there was a hint of concern creeping into his tone.
You hesitated for a second, your heart beating faster. You didn’t want to lie, but you also couldn’t tell him—not yet, not until you knew for sure. “Yeah,” you finally replied, trying to sound convincing.
Joel made a low, comforting sound, a mix between a hum and a sigh. He nuzzled closer, his lips brushing lightly against your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as sleep tried to claim him again. “We’ll figure it out… whatever it is.”
You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words soothe the fear gnawing at your insides. But all you could do was rest your hand over his, feeling the roughness of his skin beneath your palm, grounding yourself in his presence.
“Yeah,” you whispered back, more to yourself than to him. “We always do.”
Joel’s breathing began to slow again, deepening as he drifted back to sleep. You closed your eyes, pressing yourself closer against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“I love you” you whispered to him, breaking the silence. You were afraid of losing him.
For a moment, there was only the quiet of the room, the soft hum of the distant generator outside, and the gentle rhythm of Joel's breath against your skin. You wondered if he'd even heard you, or if your whispered words had been lost in the space between wakefulness and sleep.
Then, you felt his grip tighten around you, his hand moving to hold you closer, almost as if he was afraid, you might slip away. His lips brushed against your shoulder, a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice a deep, husky whisper in the darkness. There was a raw honesty in his words, an openness that you rarely heard from him, as if he understood the fear hidden beneath your confession.
His lips pressed against your shoulder again, this time firmer, more deliberate. "Ain't nothing gonna change that," he added softly, his breath warm against your skin. His thumb stroked gently over the fabric of your shirt, tracing soothing patterns that spoke of comfort and promises unspoken.
You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, feeling a mix of relief and longing. The fear still lingered, but in this moment, held in his arms, it felt a little more manageable. You leaned back into him, feeling the strength in his body, the steady beat of his heart against your back.
Joel held you tighter, as if sensing your need for reassurance. "We'll get through this," he whispered. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. You and me."
You nodded against him, unable to find your voice, your heart swelling with the weight of everything unsaid. "Together," you repeated softly, your hand squeezing his, grounding yourself in his presence.
For now, that was enough.
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Joel woke up slowly, his body protesting against the cold air that had settled in the room overnight. He blinked against the dim light filtering through the cracked blinds, reaching out instinctively to your side of the bed, only to find it empty. His hand moved across the sheets, finding them cool, your warmth long gone.
He sat up, a frown creasing his brow as a flicker of worry ran through him. He scanned the room, half-expecting to see you in the corner, maybe getting dressed or lost in thought, but the room was still, too still. He called your name, softly at first, then a little louder. No answer.
His heart quickened as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing his jeans from the chair and yanking them on. The apartment was quiet, eerily so, with no sign of movement or life. His boots hit the floor with a dull thud as he pulled them on, his gaze darting around the small space.
Where the hell were you?
He moved quickly to the kitchen, eyes scanning the counters, the sink—anywhere you might have left a note, a sign of where you’d gone. But there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the building settling around him. He glanced toward the front door, noticing Tess's boots missing from their usual spot. A knot of unease tightened in his chest. Neither of you were there.
He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. You wouldn’t have left without telling him, not without saying something. And Tess—she was always up to something, but she never left you behind. He felt his pulse quicken, a gnawing sense of dread creeping in as he grabbed his jacket from the hook near the door, slipping it on with practiced haste.
Joel pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, his boots echoing against the worn floorboards. He looked around, scanning for any sign of you or Tess. The hallway was empty, but a few doors down, a neighbor—a middle-aged man Joel recognized but didn’t know well—was stepping out, adjusting his coat.
“Hey,” Joel called out, his voice sharper than intended. The man looked up, surprised. “You seen them?” He gestured back to your apartment.
The man shook his head slowly, clearly unsure who Joel was referring to. “Nah, haven’t seen anyone this morning,” he replied. “Everything okay?”
Joel forced a tight smile, though his stomach was churning with worry. “Yeah, fine,” he muttered, turning away. He started down the stairs, moving quickly, almost without thinking. His mind raced, a thousand worst-case scenarios flashing through his thoughts. Where could you be? Why hadn’t you said anything?
He made his way down to the ground floor, heading toward the small communal area near the entrance, where a few people were already gathered, murmuring quietly among themselves. He scanned the room, his eyes searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of you or Tess.
“Joel!” A voice cut through the chatter, and he turned to see one of Tess’s contacts—Danny, a wiry guy with a nervous energy—waving him over. Joel’s heart jumped. Maybe Danny had seen you.
“Where’s Tess?” Joel asked as he approached, not bothering with pleasantries.
Danny’s face tightened slightly, and he glanced around, lowering his voice. “She went out early, looking for something… didn’t say what. Figured you knew.”
Joel clenched his jaw, frustration flaring in his chest. “And her?” he asked, his voice edged with urgency. “You see her?”
Danny shook his head. “No, man. I just saw Tess.”
Joel felt a chill run down his spine. He took a step back, his mind racing with questions. If Tess had gone out and you weren’t with her, then where the hell were you?
He turned, scanning the room one more time, then made a decision. He needed to find you, now. Whatever this was, wherever you were, he wasn’t going to wait around and let worry tear him apart.
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You sat in Lydia's small, cluttered living room, nerves thrumming beneath your skin like a live wire. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and old books, a comforting combination that somehow made you feel more at ease, despite the circumstances. Lydia's place was a small haven in the chaos of the QZ, filled with mismatched furniture, faded floral curtains, and a few potted plants she somehow managed to keep alive. The doctor herself, an older woman with graying hair pulled back into a messy bun, moved around the space with a calm, practiced efficiency. Her hands were steady, her expression focused but kind.
Tess stood beside you, her presence a quiet reassurance. She had her arms crossed, her foot tapping lightly against the worn wooden floor as she watched Lydia prepare a small kit on the table. Lydia glanced over at you, her eyes soft with a mixture of concern and affection. “You look pale, sweetheart,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been keeping up with your food and water?”
You managed a small nod, though your stomach felt like it was tied in knots. “Yeah, just… a lot on my mind,” you murmured. Your voice sounded small in the stillness of the room.
Lydia nodded knowingly, her gaze flicking to Tess for a moment before returning to you. “I’ve seen that look before,” she said softly. “It's not easy, being in this kind of situation… but you’re not alone, okay?”
You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat again. “Thanks, Lydia… I just… I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know what to do if… if it’s true.”
Lydia came over to you, setting a warm hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared,” she said kindly.
You nodded, taking a deep breath as she handed you a small, well-worn plastic device. A pregnancy test. It felt surreal holding it in your hand, the weight of it much heavier than its actual size.
Lydia’s expression softened. “The bathroom is down the hall,” she instructed gently. “Take your time, and when you're ready, come back out. No rush.”
You glanced at Tess, who gave you a reassuring nod. “Go on,” she urged softly. “I’ll be right here.”
Swallowing hard, you stood up, clutching the test in your hand, and made your way down the narrow hallway to the small, dimly lit bathroom. The old mirror above the sink was cracked, reflecting your nervous expression in fragmented pieces. You took a deep breath, feeling the cool tile under your bare feet, and tried to steady your racing heart.
The minutes stretched out as you stood there, staring at the test in your hands, feeling the weight of this decision. You knew that everything could change in an instant—your life, your relationship with Joel, everything you thought you knew about the world and your place in it.
You finally gathered your courage, took the test, and set it on the sink. You watched it like it might explode, the seconds ticking by with agonizing slowness. You could hear the muffled voices of Tess and Lydia down the hall, their words indistinct but soothing in their familiarity.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, you saw the result. Your breath caught in your throat, your knees feeling weak. You stared at it, your mind struggling to catch up, to process what you were seeing.
It was positive.
You felt a wave of emotions crash over you—fear, confusion, a strange sense of disbelief. You gripped the edge of the sink, needing something solid to hold on to, to keep yourself from spiraling. Tears welled in your eyes, unbidden, and you blinked them back, swallowing hard.
You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself before turning back toward the door. You stepped out of the bathroom, your face pale, your hands trembling slightly.
Tess was the first to notice, her eyes widening as she saw your expression. She moved quickly to your side, her hand gripping your arm gently. “Hey… what’s the result?” she asked, though the look on your face already told her everything.
Lydia stepped closer; her eyes filled with empathy. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured. “Just take a breath.”
You looked at them both, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s… it’s positive,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “I’m… I’m pregnant.”
Tess squeezed your arm, a mixture of concern and determination on her face. “Okay,” she said firmly. “We’re going to handle this. We’re gonna figure it out.”
Lydia nodded; her expression warm. “You’re not alone in this,” she reassured you. “We’ll do what we can to make sure you’re safe… and healthy.”
You swallowed hard, feeling the tears spill over despite your best efforts to hold them back. “What… what do I do now?” you asked, your voice shaking. “I don’t want anyone to know this, okay?”
“Joel’s has to know” Tess said.
“No.” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, a flash of panic twisting through your chest. “No,” you repeated, firmer this time. “I can’t… I can’t tell him. Not yet.”
Tess’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained calm. “Why not?” she asked gently, though there was a hint of insistence in her voice. “He deserves to know. He’s going to find out sooner or later.”
You shook your head, feeling the tears start to flow again. “I just… I’m not ready,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “He’s already dealing with so much, with losing contact with Tommy, and… I don’t want to put this on him. Not when I don’t even know how I feel about it yet.”
Lydia placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her touch steady and grounding. “It’s okay to feel this way,” she said softly. “But Tess is right. Joel will need to know eventually. He’s your partner… in all of this.”
You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath. “I just need some time,” you murmured, feeling a deep ache in your chest. “Please… don’t say anything to him. Not until I figure out how to even say it myself.”
Tess sighed, a mixture of frustration and understanding on her face. “Alright,” she agreed quietly, but you knew she was lying.
She walked towards the door before you saying to Lydia “I’ll pay you later.”
“There is no need, I’d do anything for this one here” she said, squeezing your shoulder.
Tess gave Lydia a small nod, but her expression was tight, her jaw set. You could sense the conflict simmering beneath her calm exterior. You knew Tess well enough to recognize that she wasn’t pleased with your decision. She paused at the door, one hand resting on the frame, before turning back to you.
“Alright,” she said again, this time her voice softer, almost resigned. “We need to get back. Joel’s probably tearing his hair out by now.” There was a hint of a wry smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You felt a pang of guilt; you could only imagine how worried Joel must be at this point.
Lydia gave you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she said softly. “And if you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me.”
You managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Lydia… for everything,” you whispered, feeling a rush of emotion swell in your chest.
Tess opened the door and stepped outside, waiting for you to follow. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, before moving to join her. As you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, Tess glanced at you, her expression unreadable.
“You know he’s gonna ask where we were,” she muttered, keeping her voice low. “And you know I won’t lie to him.”
Your heart sank a little. “I know,” you admitted quietly. “Just… don’t tell him yet, okay? I need to be the one to do it, Tess.”
She nodded, but the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. “You better tell him soon,” she warned her tone more serious now. “Because if you don’t, I will.”
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Two days had passed since you were delivered the news, and as you went through your shift, the morning sun cast a pale light over the QZ, and the usual noise of activity buzzed around you. You focused on your tasks, trying to push through the lingering fatigue and nausea. Despite your efforts to stay steady, a wave of nausea hit you suddenly, making your stomach churn violently.
You stumbled to the side, clutching your midsection as you struggled to keep yourself upright. Before you could react, the contents of your stomach erupted, and you doubled over, throwing up onto the ground. The sudden and intense discomfort left you gasping for breath, feeling a mix of embarrassment and distress.
Nearby, a few of your co-workers glanced over, their faces a mixture of concern and discomfort. One of them approached, a frown on his face. “You alright? Maybe you should sit down or get some fresh air.”
You shook your head, trying to regain your composure. “I’m fine,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “Just… give me a moment.”
The soldier supervising the shift, who had already been keeping an eye on you, approached with a stern expression. “What’s going on? You can’t be throwing up in the middle of work. If you’re sick, you need to go home.”
You tried to protest, but your weakened state made it hard to argue. “I’m okay,” you said weakly. “I just need a minute.”
Before you could say more, Joel appeared, his face etched with concern as he hurried over to you. He placed a supportive hand on your back. “You need to go home,” he said firmly, his eyes filled with worry. “You’re not doing yourself any good pushing through like this.”
The soldier gave Joel a skeptical look. “She needs to get back to work. We can’t afford to have people slacking off.”
Joel’s expression hardened, and he took a protective step forward. “She’s not slacking off. She’s sick. You wanna have her work herself into the ground? Take her home, and I’ll deal with it.”
The soldier seemed taken aback by Joel’s intensity but eventually relented, grumbling under his breath. “Fine. Take her home, Miller. We don’t need sick people on duty.”
Joel nodded, helping you to your feet and wrapping an arm around you for support. “Let’s get you outta here,” he said gently, guiding you toward the exit.
As you walked out of the QZ, the cool air was a welcome relief, but the anxiety and guilt still gnawed at you. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.
Joel glanced at you, his eyes softening. “You don’t need to apologize, honey.” With Joel’s reassuring presence beside you, you made your way back to the apartment, each step feeling a bit heavier as you faced the reality of your situation.
When you and Joel arrived back at the apartment, you were both greeted by the quiet, familiar surroundings. Tess was sitting at the kitchen table, her eyes lifting from a worn-out map she’d been studying. She looked up as you entered, her expression shifting from concern to relief.
“Hey, you’re back,” Tess said, standing up quickly. “How are you feeling?”
Joel helped you inside, guiding you to the couch. “She’s not feeling great,” he said, his voice low. “She had another wave of nausea at work.”
Tess crossed the room, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable,” she said, her tone gentle. She reached for a blanket and draped it over you, her eyes scanning your face with worry.
You nodded weakly, feeling the exhaustion and the strain of the morning catching up with you. “Thanks, Tess,” you murmured, settling into the couch as Joel stood nearby, his hands resting on his hips, clearly trying to mask his concern.
Tess turned to Joel. “You should take a break, too,” she suggested. “I can keep an eye on her for a bit.”
“No.” Joel glanced at you, “I want to know what’s happening, and don’t lie to me” he demanded, especially to you.
You frightened under his stare. You looked over at Tess looking for a way of reassurance.
Tess met Joel’s gaze steadily, her own concern evident. “Joel,” she began softly, “we need to approach this carefully. We don’t want to push her too hard.”
Joel’s eyes softened slightly, but his jaw remained set. “I just want to understand what’s going on. She’s been sick for days, and I need to know why.”
You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of both their stares. “Joel,” you said quietly, “I’ve been… trying to manage. It’s been hard to admit, but… Tess might be right. I’m not sure how to handle it all.”
Tess reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What we’re dealing with isn’t just a simple illness. It’s important that we address it properly.”
Joel’s expression shifted from frustration to deep concern. “What are you saying?” he asked, his voice softer now, but still laced with worry.
“Joel, I…I” you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words or the courage to do it.
Joel's gaze was intense, waiting for you to continue. Tess’s hand on your shoulder was a grounding presence, urging you to find the strength to speak.
You took another deep breath, the lump in your throat making it hard to talk. “Joel,” you began again, your voice trembling, “I’ve been feeling… really sick, and it’s more than just the usual stuff. It’s… it’s because…”
Again, your voice got cut.
“Because of what?” he demanded.
“She is pregnant, Joel” Tess answered for you.
Joel’s face went pale as he absorbed Tess’s words. His eyes flickered between you and Tess, trying to reconcile the new information with what he had seen in you recently. The silence in the room grew heavy, punctuated only by the sound of your shallow breaths.
Joel’s hands dropped to his sides, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Pregnant?” he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. His voice was a mix of confusion and pain, and he took a step back, needing space to process this revelation.
You nodded, tears threatening to spill again. “I didn’t want to tell you like this,” you said quietly. “I’ve been trying to manage, but it’s been really hard.”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he tried to gather his thoughts. He turned away from you, his face contorted with frustration. “Goddammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair again, the tension in his body palpable. “This… this is just too much.”
You flinched at his outburst, tears spilling freely now. “Joel, please—” you began, but he cut you off, his voice rising.
“Do you have any idea what this means?” Joel’s tone was harsh, though there was a tremor of anguish beneath the anger. “We’re barely surviving as it is, and now… now you’re telling me you’re pregnant?”
Tess stepped in, placing a firm hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, this isn’t helping,” she said sharply. “She needs support right now, not anger.”
Joel shrugged off her hand, his frustration boiling over. “I know, I know,” he snapped. “But it’s a lot to take in! I can’t just ignore it!”
You watched, your heart breaking as you saw Joel’s struggle to come to terms with the news. “Joel,” you said, trying to reach out to him despite your own pain, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to add to the stress, but I didn’t know how else to handle it.”
Joel’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the anger in his gaze faltered, replaced by a deep sadness. “I just… I don’t know how to fix this,”
he said, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. “I thought we had a chance to figure things out. Now everything’s just falling apart.”
Tess moved closer; her voice softer but firm. “Joel, getting angry won’t solve anything. We need to focus on what we can do now. What matters is getting her the help she needs.
“We were supposed to leave to find Tommy and now we won’t be able to.” He said, angry.
“What?” you asked, absorbing the new information.
Joel’s gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. “We were planning to leave for Tommy’s,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “But with this… we might not be able to. We’re stuck here now, trying to figure out how to manage all this mess.”
You stared at him, the realization hitting you like a cold wave. “Wait, you were planning to leave? To find Tommy?”
Joel nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, Tess and I thought it was the best chance for us. Tommy’s got connections, and he might be able to help us get through this. But now…” His voice trailed off, the anger and sadness mixing in his eyes. “Now, everything’s fucked up.”
“When were you planning to tell me?” You asked, hurt.
Joel’s face fell at your question, and he looked away, struggling to find the right words. “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” he said, his voice rough. “Things were just… so complicated. We thought we had more time to figure things out before we had to tell you.”
You felt a pang of hurt at his words. “So, you were just going to leave me in the dark? You were planning to leave without even talking to me about it?”
Joel looked back at you; his eyes filled with regret. “No, that’s not what I meant. Of course you were coming with us.”
“But now I’m a burden.” You uttered a thought Joel perhaps was having.
Joel’s face tightened at your words, the weight of your accusation clearly hitting him hard. “That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, his voice strained. “You’re not a burden, never say that again.”
You stood up, your emotions swirling, a mix of hurt and frustration. “Then why does it feel like everything’s falling apart because of me?” you asked, your voice trembling.
You stood up, your emotions swirling, a mix of hurt and frustration. “Then why does it feel like everything’s falling apart because of me?” you asked, your voice trembling. Tears began to spill down your cheeks, the weight of the situation overwhelming you. “I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do. I thought you were going to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay, but—fuck this!” You turned abruptly and walked towards the bedroom, trying to escape the chaos of your emotions.
Joel's heart ached as he watched you go, his own emotions roiling. He hesitated for a moment before following you, his steps heavy with regret and worry. He reached the bedroom door just as you were sinking onto the edge of the bed, your shoulders shaking with sobs.
“Hey,” Joel said softly, his voice carrying a note of desperation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this. I was just… scared and confused. I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t.”
You didn’t look up, focusing on trying to control your breathing. “Leave me alone.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, feeling his presence beside you.
“Leave, Joel.” You sobbed.
Joel’s heart sank further as you pushed him away, the pain in your voice cutting him deeply. He hesitated at the bedroom door, torn between his desire to comfort you and the need to respect your space.
“Alright,” Joel said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ll give you some time. I’m sorry.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with your emotions.
As Joel retreated, Tess quietly entered the room. She found you on the edge of the bed, still shaking with sobs. Without saying a word, she sat down beside you, offering silent support. Tess’s presence was calm and steady, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside.
“Hey,” Tess said gently, placing a comforting hand on your back. “I’m here. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”
You looked up at her, your eyes red and tearful. Tess didn’t try to force conversation; instead, she simply sat with you, her hand a reassuring presence on your back. Slowly, the comforting silence and Tess’s steady presence began to soothe you. Your breathing gradually steadied, and the tears started to subside.
Tess helped you settle into a more comfortable position on the bed, making sure you were warm and covered. As you drifted off to sleep, the emotional exhaustion finally taking its toll, Tess stayed by your side, her watchful gaze softening with concern.
After a while, Tess glanced toward the door and saw Joel standing there, his expression one of deep regret and sorrow. He looked as though he was trying to come to terms with everything that had happened. Tess gave him a sympathetic nod before turning her attention back to you.
“I know this isn’t the ideal situation,” Tess began, her tone firm yet understanding. “But she needs you now, Joel. More than ever.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his eyes flicking from Tess to where you lay curled up on the bed, still trembling from your tears. “I don’t know if I can do this, Tess,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with the weight of his fears.
Tess placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “You’ve got to try,” she urged. “She’s scared, and she needs you to be there for her. You don’t have to have all the answers, but you do need to stay. You need to lay down next to her and protect her, like you always have.”
Joel looked at her, conflicted, the fight still lingering in his eyes. But Tess didn’t back down, her gaze unwavering. “She’s not asking you to be perfect, Joel. She’s asking you to be there.”
For a moment, Joel hesitated, the weight of the decision hanging heavy in the air. But then, slowly, he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. He walked over to the bed, his movements careful and deliberate as he lay down beside you, his presence cautious but steady.
You stirred slightly, sensing his nearness even in your sleep, and instinctively moved closer to him, seeking the comfort you had always found in his arms. Joel wrapped an arm around you, holding you gently, as if afraid you might break. And as Tess watched, she saw the fear and anger in his eyes slowly give way to something softer.
The room was quiet, save for the sound of your breathing, as you finally found peace in sleep. Joel stayed awake, his thoughts still tangled, but his grip on you never faltered. Tess left the room quietly, leaving the two of you to find whatever solace you could in each other.
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Joel lay beside you, staring up at the cracked ceiling of the apartment. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind raced, replaying the argument from earlier and the harsh truths he had tried to push away for so long. The room was quiet now, but his thoughts were anything but.
His gaze shifted to you, lying peacefully next to him, your breathing soft and even. You looked so small, so fragile, and it hit him all over again just how much had changed in the span of a few hours. The life growing inside you was a reality he couldn’t ignore anymore, no matter how much he wanted to. He watched you, his heart heavy with a mix of fear, guilt, and something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time—hope.
The thought of becoming a father again terrified him. After Sarah, after everything he had lost, he didn’t know if he could survive that kind of pain again. But here you were, carrying his child, and it was as if the world was asking him to take that risk all over again. He didn’t know if he had it in him, but as he watched you sleep, so peaceful and trusting, he realized that you were counting on him.
Joel stayed awake through the night, his thoughts swirling with memories of Sarah, the life he had lost, and the uncertain future ahead. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harshness of the world outside, but he didn’t know if he was strong enough to protect you both from the dangers that lay ahead. The weight of responsibility felt crushing, yet he knew he couldn’t turn away—not now, not ever.
As the first light of dawn began to seep through the cracks in the curtains, Joel’s exhaustion finally began to catch up with him. His eyes grew heavy, and despite his best efforts, he drifted into a restless sleep, his arm still draped protectively over you.
When he finally woke, the apartment was filled with the pale light of early morning. He blinked groggily, his mind still clouded with sleep, but something felt off. The warmth of your body beside him was gone. He reached out, his hand finding only the empty space where you had been.
Panic flared in his chest as he sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the room. The bed was cold where you had lain, and the room was eerily silent. “Where the hell are you?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair as he forced himself out of bed.
His heart pounded in his chest as he searched the small apartment, calling your name, but there was no answer. The sense of dread he had felt the night before came rushing back, stronger than ever. He knew you couldn’t have gone far, but the thought of you out there alone, especially in your condition, made his stomach twist with worry.
Joel threw on his jacket, his movements frantic as he prepared to leave and search for you. He couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you, not when he had just realized how much he needed you. As he headed for the door, he stopped short, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, to think. You were strong, capable—he knew that. But still, the protective urge in him screamed to find you, to bring you back and keep you safe.
With one last glance around the empty apartment, Joel stepped outside, his mind racing as he tried to figure out where you might have gone. He couldn’t lose you—not now, not ever.
Joel knew you had a habit of going to certain places when you needed space—when you needed to clear your head. He made his way through the maze of streets, his mind fixated on finding you. As he walked, his thoughts spiraled. What if you were angry enough to leave the QZ? What if you’d decided you didn’t want to face him again? The guilt from the night before weighed heavily on him, and the fear that he’d pushed you away was overwhelming.
He headed towards a small, secluded spot behind one of the less-used buildings—a place you often went when you needed to be alone. It was out of sight from most people, offering a rare bit of privacy in the crowded QZ. As he turned the corner, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, sitting on an old, crumbling bench, your hands clasped tightly in your lap.
Relief washed over him, so intense it almost brought him to his knees. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the sight of you. You looked small and lost, your shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world had finally settled on them. But you were safe. You were here. That was all that mattered.
He approached slowly, not wanting to startle you. The crunch of gravel under his boots made you look up, your eyes meeting his. The raw emotion in your gaze—fear, uncertainty, and something that looked like regret—hit him like a punch to the gut.
Joel stopped a few feet away, unsure of what to say, how to bridge the gap that had opened between you. His mouth opened, but no words came out. What could he possibly say to make this better? To fix the hurt he had caused?
“I didn’t mean to leave,” you finally said, your voice small and fragile. “I just…needed to think.”
Joel nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I get it,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. He took a cautious step closer, wanting to reach out, but unsure if you wanted him to. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have let you leave like that.”
You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not your fault. I just—” Your voice broke, and you wiped at your eyes, frustration evident in the gesture. “I don’t know how to deal with all of this. It’s too much, Joel. Everything is too much.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, the words barely audible.
Joel crouched down in front of you, his hand still on your shoulder, his gaze locked onto yours. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he said softly.
“There isn’t a place for raising a baby.” You spoke, looking down at your hands, the thoughts swirling in your mind too overwhelming to express. “Lydia could help me,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “She could help me…terminate it.”
Joel’s reaction was immediate, his voice hard and unyielding. “No.” The word came out sharper than he intended, and he saw you flinch. He softened his tone, but the resolve remained. “We’re not doing that.”
You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. “But, Joel, what if—” you began, but he cut you off.
“I said no,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “We’re not ending this.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. “But I’m scared, Joel,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “What if we can’t do this? What if it’s too much?”
Joel crossed the room in two long strides and knelt in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face. “I’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t lose you.”
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked into his eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “You’re not alone in this,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll do it together. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
You clung to him, the fear and uncertainty still gnawing at you, but for the first time since you’d found out, you felt a small measure of comfort. Joel wasn’t backing down, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
“I love you and I won’t leave you alone, baby” he whispered, kissing your lips.
Joel’s words wrapped around you like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of your fears. You clung to him, your grip tight but gentle, as if you were afraid, he might disappear again. The warmth of his embrace, the sincerity in his voice, and the tenderness of his kiss were all anchors in the storm that had been swirling inside you.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion. You could feel the tears drying on your cheeks, replaced by a sense of tentative hope. The weight of your worries didn’t vanish, but Joel’s presence made them seem a little more manageable.
Joel gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remaining tears from your cheeks. “We’re gonna get through this,” he said firmly. “I don’t know how, but we will. We’re a team. We’ve faced worse before.”
You nodded, finding strength in his conviction. “Okay,” you murmured, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “I’ll try to believe that.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “We’ll figure it out together,” he promised. “But right now, my focus is taking care of you and the baby.”
Hours later, the apartment was quiet once again, save for the soft hum of a generator and the occasional creak of the building settling into its nightly stillness. You had managed to distract yourself with small tasks around the apartment, trying to keep your mind occupied and calm. The weight of the conversation with Joel still lingered, but his earlier reassurance had brought a sense of calm you hadn't expected.
You were in the middle of organizing some supplies when you heard the front door open. The sound of footsteps followed, and a few moments later, Joel's voice cut through the quiet. It was a familiar, comforting sound, but this time, it was tinged with an edge of frustration.
“You think this is a joke?” Joel’s voice was sharp, and you could hear the anger in his tone.
You quickly moved toward the front of the apartment, concern etching across your face. When you reached the living area, you saw Joel standing in the doorway, his face set in a hard line. Beside him stood a teenager—a girl who looked no older than sixteen. Her clothes were ragged, and she had a wary, defensive posture.
The girl’s eyes flickered between you and Joel, her expression a mix of fear and defiance. Joel’s anger was palpable, and it was clear that the situation was tense.
“Joel, what’s going on?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though you felt a pang of anxiety at the sight of the girl and the intensity of Joel’s demeanor.
Joel's eyes shifted to you, the anger in them still evident but now mixed with a hint of exhaustion. “She’s got a name,” he said, gesturing toward the girl. “Her name’s Ellie.”
Ellie looked up at you, her eyes wary but hopeful. Joel’s expression softened slightly as he continued, “Turns out she’s supposed to be delivered to the Fireflies.
You glanced at Joel, understanding dawning. “You’re going to take her to them,” you said, looking back at Ellie. “And you’ll have the chance to find Tommy along the way.”
Joel nodded, a hint of resignation in his stance. “Yeah, that’s the deal,” he said.
“But what about—”
Joel cut you off gently. “I know it’s a lot to take in. We need to leave now. There’s an opportunity for us to get out of the QZ and head to a place where things might be better. But it means we have to move fast.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, glancing between you and Joel. “I don’t want to be a problem,” she said quietly. “If it’s too much—”
“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “It’s not that. I just… I’m not sure what to do. I mean, this is all so sudden.”
Joel stepped closer, his expression earnest. “We don’t have much time. We need to move quickly before things get worse. I know it’s hard, but this is our chance to get out of here. To find some place where we can start over.”
You looked at Joel, the weight of his words sinking in. “And what about the baby?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “How will we—”
“We’ll figure it out,” Joel said firmly. “We have to. There’s no time to waste. This is our chance to make a new life, to give the baby a better chance.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of the situation. “Alright,” you said finally, nodding. “I’ll do it. We’ll go. Just… let’s make sure we’re ready.”
Joel’s face softened with relief, and he gave a nod. “Good. Tess will be back soon. We need to pack up and get out before anyone notices we’re gone.”
As you hurriedly packed, a thought clawed at the back of your mind, growing louder and louder until it burst out of you in a shaky whisper. "But I’ll be a burden," you said, your voice breaking. "I’ll slow you down, Joel. You know it."
Joel stopped what he was doing, turning to face you. "No," he said firmly, the word cutting through the tense air like a knife. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. There was a fierce intensity in his gaze, something raw and unwavering.
"You’re not a burden," he insisted, his voice low and filled with emotion. "You're the reason I wake up every day. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you, baby. Without you… without you, nothing makes sense anymore."
Your breath hitched, and tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, his words breaking down the walls you had built around your fears. Joel’s hands trembled slightly as he continued, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek.
"So, if this is the chance I have to give you a life you deserve in this shithole," he went on, his voice steady but thick with emotion, "then I’ll take it. I’ll take you with me and give it to you and our baby. I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re both safe. I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever."
You could feel his sincerity, the depth of his determination to protect you and the life growing inside you. You felt a wave of emotions crashing over you—fear, relief, hope, and love, all swirling together. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, letting his words sink in.
"Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I… I don’t know if I’m ready for this, for any of this."
His grip on your face tightened just a bit, his gaze never wavering. "Neither do I," he admitted. "But we’ll figure it out. We’ve faced worse, and we’re still standing. We’ll get through this. Together."
You nodded slowly, your heart hammering in your chest. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. "I’m not letting you go," he murmured.
Ellie stood by the door, her arms crossed, an incredulous look on her face. "Are you seriously risking your pregnant girlfriend?" she asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. She looked between the two of you, clearly struggling to understand the situation.
Joel turned his head, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features, but he kept his voice calm. "It's not that simple, kid."
Ellie scoffed. "Seems pretty simple to me," she shot back. "You're dragging her and… whatever's in there—" she gestured vaguely toward your stomach, "—through god knows what to get me to the Fireflies. What if something happens?"
You took a deep breath, stepping forward to meet Ellie’s eyes. "I know what I'm getting into," you said firmly. "I can take care of myself."
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and what if you can't? I mean, what if you get sick or something? What if you get hurt?" Her voice softened, just a bit, the worry evident. "It’s not just about you anymore."
Joel’s jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. He turned to Ellie; his tone more measured. "I get it, Ellie," he said. "But leaving her here… leaving her in this place… that’s not an option either."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Great, so it’s a lose-lose situation."
You couldn’t help but let out a small, dry laugh. "Pretty much," you said, trying to inject some lightness into the tension-filled room.
There was a beat of silence, the reality of the situation settling over everyone. Joel reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "We’ll figure it out," he murmured, more to you than anyone else.
Within a short time, Tess arrived, and the group of you prepared to leave the apartment, stepping out into the uncertain world beyond the QZ. The prospect of escaping to a new place, combined with the responsibility of ensuring the safety of both Ellie and your unborn child, loomed over you.
Joel led the way, his eyes scanning the area as you followed, Ellie close behind. The journey ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for a new beginning.
As you stepped out of the QZ and into the unfamiliar landscape beyond, the weight of your situation pressed heavily on you. The world outside was a mix of desolate ruins and overgrown wilderness, a stark contrast to the relative safety of the quarantine zone. With each step, you could feel the gravity of the journey ahead, not just for yourself, but for your unborn child and Ellie, who now looked up to you as a beacon of hope and guidance.
Joel walked beside you, his presence a constant reassurance in the chaos. He kept a vigilant eye on the surroundings, his hand occasionally reaching out to make sure you were close. Tess, ever practical, moved ahead, scouting the path and ensuring that it was as safe as possible.
Ellie followed behind, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. The harsh reality of the world outside the QZ was a stark contrast to the relative safety she’d known, and she looked to you and Joel for guidance and protection.
The landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, with the occasional remnants of civilization scattered among the ruins. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with potential threats and unknown challenges. Yet, with Joel’s hand firmly grasping yours and Tess leading the way, you found a small measure of comfort in the unity of your group.
As you walked, Joel glanced at you occasionally, his gaze softening when he saw the lump forming in your throat.
With each step you took away from the QZ, you felt a mixture of trepidation and hope. The future was uncertain, and the dangers were real, but you were determined to face them head-on, for yourself, for your child, and for the family you were trying to protect.
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riddlesrizzler · 2 months ago
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Sigma Nu's Sweetheart
summary: A diamond in a house full of snakes. characters: frat boy! mattheo. frat sweetheart! reader. frat boy! slytherins warnings: mentions of alcohol and making pledges do things (not hazing) word count: 2.3k
They called it the Snake House, though its real name-Sigma Nu-was etched in fading silver above the wrought iron gates that led to the manor. Hidden behind ivy-draped columns and shrouded by ancient oaks, the fraternity estate stood on the edge of campus like a secret too dangerous to be kept in daylight. No one quite remembered when Sigma Nu had been founded-some whispered it was pre-dating the university itself, rooted in ancient rites and blood oaths sworn beneath crescent moons. But in the present, it was feared, admired, and envied in equal measure.
The president of Sigma Nu was Mattheo Riddle, a name spoken with the kind of reverence reserved for legends and tyrants. Sharp of tongue and sharper of mind, Mattheo ruled the fraternity not with brutish dominance, but with a silken charisma that wrapped itself around you like a noose. He was all marble and firelight: smooth, cold, untouchable on the outside, yet flickering with something volatile beneath the surface.
His second-in-command, Theodore Nott, was the shadow behind the throne. Where Mattheo set the tone, Theo enforced it. He was quieter, more calculated, with a gaze like cut glass and a voice you only heard when he needed to remind someone of their place. The brothers called him “The Watcher”-not because he hovered, but because he saw everything.
The rest of the inner circle rotated like planets in their orbit.
Lorenzo Berkshire, with his floppy brown hair and wicked grin, handled social affairs-if such a title could be applied to the lavish masquerades and forbidden midnight galas he orchestrated. Enzo was charm incarnate, hiding razor-sharp instincts behind a glass of wine and a well-tailored coat. People underestimated him. That was their first mistake.
Draco Malfoy, heir to a crumbling aristocracy, served as treasurer. But that role was a formality. Draco was the gatekeeper to the legacy. His family had once poured obscene amounts of money into Sigma Nu, and though the vaults ran thinner now, his word still carried the weight of dynasties. Cold and calculating, Draco rarely spoke unless it was to remind others they weren’t worth speaking to.
Then there was Blaise Zabini, the strategist. He didn’t run the meetings or throw the parties. He played the long game-the one that was always three moves ahead. A cigarette always rested between his fingers, and secrets curled around him like smoke. Blaise’s role wasn’t official. It didn’t have to be. In Sigma Nu, knowledge was currency, and he was the quiet king of the underground economy.
Together, they formed the serpent’s head.
The house itself was a relic from another time. Stained-glass windows filtered the sunlight into eerie patterns on mahogany floors. The walls were lined with portraits of brothers past-men with hollow eyes and stories that had been scrubbed from official records. A grand staircase, rumored to creak only when someone lied in its presence, split the mansion in two. The basement was off-limits, except for the highest-ranking members. What happened down there was never spoken of, but the muffled echoes that sometimes rose through the vents kept the rumors alive.
Rituals were everything in Sigma Nu. Pledging wasn't just about endurance-it was a test of will, of loyalty, of how far you were willing to crawl for power. And once you were in, you were in. There was no leaving. Not really. Former brothers found themselves mysteriously blacklisted, their futures erased with quiet efficiency. No one crossed the Snake House without bleeding for it.
Yet every year, the line to rush snaked down the cobblestone path, filled with students desperate to touch even the hem of that forbidden tapestry. Power, after all, is seductive. And Mattheo Riddle’s Sigma Nu had power in spades.
But inside those ivy-covered walls, something was shifting. There were murmurs of a fracture in the hierarchy. An outsider watching too closely. A secret the founders had buried that might be clawing its way back to the surface.
And at the center of it all: Mattheo, with a hand on the throne and another on the throttle.
But between the echoes of old secrets and the weight of a legacy stitched in silence, she was the unexpected constant-soft in a world that was anything but. While Mattheo navigated the shifting loyalties and unspoken rules of the house, she remained untouched by the storm, yet always in its eye. She didn’t need a title to hold power; she had something rarer. Influence, without force. Presence, without demand. And though the throne was his to claim, she was the one they all moved around-the one they’d protect without question, even as the walls whispered of betrayal and the past threatened to rise. Because to the outside world, she was just the Diamond of Alpha Delta Pi. But to them… she was the heart of Sigma Nu.
The Snake House had never known softness before she arrived. But now, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through the halls before chapter meetings, and there were always cookies cooling on the kitchen counter beside the whiskey bottles. Her laugh echoed down the staircase, light and melodic, blending strangely well with the heavy bass of party nights and the creak of ancient floorboards.
She wasn't just a sweetheart by title-she was the heartbeat of the fraternity.
Every Friday, three pledges showed up at her off-campus cottage, armed with mops and laundry detergent, ready to clean top to bottom without question. It had become a tradition-Sigma Nu took care of her. Always. It was Theo’s rule. But it was Mattheo’s order.
The pledges were already working by the time the rest of the world stirred. One was sweeping under the island. Another was wiping down cabinets. A third was sorting her laundry into color-coded piles on the dining room table.
“Don’t forget the lavender dryer sheets,” she reminded one of them sweetly, not looking up from her dough.
“Yes, ma’am,” the pledge muttered, blushing.
“You didn’t have to come clean.” She looked over her shoulder at him, a smudge of flour on her cheek.
“I wanted to.” Mattheo walked in, groggy but sharp-eyed, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
“You send pledges to clean my own house every week. My landlord thinks I have a personal cleaning service." She giggled.
“You basically do,” he said, flicking his lighter closed. “You bake banana bread and let Theo cry on your couch. You’ve earned it.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m right,” he replied, and stepped forward, gently swiping the flour from her cheek with his thumb. “You spoil us. Let us return the favor.”
She looked at him for a long moment, eyes searching.
“You don’t have to keep proving things to me, Mattheo.”
He met her gaze, unwavering. “I’m not. I’m proving it to everyone else.”
At parties, she didn’t need to lift a finger. A pledge carried her drink. Another held her coat. If she looked even slightly tired, someone found her a seat. When she danced, people made room.
The party pulsed like a living thing-booming bass, laughter slurred into inside jokes, the thick haze of too much beer and too little inhibition. Lights blinked across the walls, casting silvers and greens on the sweaty crowd packed into the house’s main room.
Then she walked in.
The chatter didn’t stop-but it shifted. Heads turned. A few of the brothers straightened up. Pledges scrambled to make space near the drinks table. And at the edge of the chaos, Mattheo Riddle watched her with a smirk wrapped around the mouth of his beer bottle.
Diamond House perfection. The only sweetheart Sigma Nu would ever need.
She made her way toward the kitchen, exchanging soft smiles and cheek kisses, until one of the guys shouted, “Sweetheart’s here!”
Cheers erupted like a spell had been cast.
Mattheo didn’t move. Just leaned back against the doorway, letting his eyes follow her every step. When a freshman tried handing her a half-full drink, Mattheo’s voice cut sharp and smooth across the room.
“She only drinks vodka cran, dumbass.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
The pledge blinked, nodded quickly, and disappeared.
She found Mattheo seconds later, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You’re going to scare off all the new members.”
“Good.” He looked down at her. “They were getting too bold.”
“You’re acting like I’m made of glass.”
He tilted his head, that smirk deepening. “Nah. Diamonds are tougher than glass.”
She arched a brow. “So I’m tough?”
“You’re dangerous.” His voice dipped, low and dry. “I’ve seen more than a few guys fall stupid over you in five seconds flat.”
“And you?” she asked sweetly. “Still standing?”
Mattheo took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving hers. “Barely.”
When she walked into a tailgate wrapped in an oversized Sigma Nu hoodie-Draco’s once, Blaise’s the next, Enzo’s after that-everyone knew it was only borrowed until Mattheo noticed she was cold and quietly handed her his.
He always did.
The wind whipped around the tailgate like it had something to prove. She stood on her tiptoes, scanning the crowd, the hem of her Sigma Nu hoodie fluttering. Not hers, technically-Mattheo’s. Still smelled like smoke and spice and something she couldn’t name.
He appeared behind her like a shadow.
“Cold again?”
“You have a sixth sense for it.”
“No.” He leaned close, lips brushing her ear. “I just know you.”
She turned with a grin, poking his chest. “So, what’s the plan, President? Going to assign a pledge to hold my hand all day too?”
“Don’t tempt me.” His eyes flickered over her, playful. “I’d make it a rotating shift.”
She laughed, full and bright.
“I could carry my own books, you know.”
“And ruin our entire pledging system?” he asked, mock serious. “What would the freshmen do without you assigning them smoothie runs and study session alarms?”
“You love it.”
Mattheo didn’t deny it.
Instead, he stepped back and tossed her his scarf. “Put that on.”
“Possessive much?”
“Practical,” he said with a wink. “And if anyone asks-tell them it’s house policy.”
Mattheo Riddle didn’t smile easily. But he watched her like she hung the stars. Protective wasn’t the right word-it was something fiercer, deeper. He knew the sound of her footsteps before she even knocked. He knew how she took her tea, what time her classes ended, what books were stacked in her bag on any given day.
And when he wasn’t sitting at the head of the chapter table, you could find him leaning against the counter while she stirred brownie batter, sleeves pushed up, hoodie half-swallowed by her frame. She was always cooking for them-baking too-and she stayed through every meeting, sitting on the arm of Mattheo’s chair like she belonged there.
Because she did.
Theo might’ve been vice president, but she was Mattheo’s right hand. She helped organize formals, charity auctions, service hours, and pledge retreats. The boys listened when she spoke-not because they were told to, but because they wanted to.
She had that kind of presence. Gentle, golden. The kind of energy that softened even the sharpest of them.
Draco, for all his cold poise, once spent an hour carving roses out of apples because she needed garnishes for a spring brunch. Enzo stopped calling other girls “gorgeous” in her presence out of some misplaced loyalty. Blaise-usually detached and unreadable-offered up his rare, real smiles only when she sat beside him, asking how his day had been like she meant it.
She wasn’t just a name on the sweetheart paddle or a girl in the stands. She was the heartbeat of the house-the reason the boys cleaned up before chapter meetings, the reason pledges learned to bake banana bread from scratch, the reason the Snake House didn’t feel like just a frat, but like something closer to home.
She made it feel like something worth protecting.
The brothers would say it, loud and proud, beers raised and sloshing at tailgates- “She’s ours.”
She showed up early to help decorate before parties. She stayed late to clean. She knew all their birthdays, their favorite meals, their secret fears. When Enzo got sick, she made him soup from scratch and handwrote the recipe card so he could brag about it. When Theo failed a midterm, she sat up with him until 3 a.m., mapping out a study plan like his future depended on it.
Draco, who rarely showed softness, once told her, “If I ever get married, it’s because you raised the bar so high I finally found someone who reminded me of you.”
Blaise swore she brought peace into every room she walked into. Lorenzo called her their “lucky charm.” The pledges called her ma’am-but with awe, not obligation.
She wasn’t perfect. But she was real. She laughed too hard. She danced barefoot in the house like she didn’t care who saw. She left behind hair ties, lip balm, and the scent of vanilla in every room. And when the world got too loud, she leaned into chaos with a smile like she’d tamed fire.
And Mattheo?
Mattheo watched it all from the edge. Quiet. Unshakable. Unclaimed but not untouched.
She wore his hoodies, and he never asked for them back. He let her take the best seat at every party, made the boys swap their plans if she needed help, silenced a room with just a glance if anyone dared say her name wrong.
He never said it-not out loud. Never told her that she made the world easier to stand in. Never admitted that he memorized her favorite flowers or that he checked if her porch light was on after every party.
She might’ve worn Diamond blue, but she was etched into Sigma Nu like a secret kept under lock and key.
And Mattheo Riddle didn’t share secrets.
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cutehoons02 · 1 month ago
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Enhypen hybird series!
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In this series you will find 7 one-shots that can be read at your leisure, the series has yet to be completatat and missing Heeseung, Ni-Ki and Sunoo. This series is the fruit of my imagination and the characters are invented, they are all stories centered on the university, all 7 will be love stories with a happy ending.
*tags: everyone is a different hybrid (dog,cat,rabbit,husky,deer,black panther and fox) knotting, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) +18, kisses, tension, fingering, masturbation (f.m)
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Jake: Love: The Hybrid's Heart
*synopsis: What if you were to do a project on the economic boom that brought hybrids into the human world in terms of love and sex with Jake a golden retriever hybrid who at first glance looks like a puppy but slowly becomes obsessed with you, and you with your shameless insolence propose to write an essay on the overselling of sexual protections against hybrids? This idea of yours might be brilliant academically but on the plane between your relationship with the hybrid Jake could bring some spicy consequences
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Jungwon: My posessive kitten!
*synopsis: You were in the shit, Your best friend had decided to move in with his boyfriend and you were looking for a roommate to even the apartment and every person you met to share the expenses didn’t convince you, until Jake your best friend’s boyfriend told you that Jungwon one of his hybrid friends was looking for a house and so you found yourself sharing the space with a kitten who looked so cute that he was crazy
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Sunghoon: My lollipop girl
*synopsis: Y/n is a university student who crosses paths with Sunghoon, an enigmatic and mysterious guy, who turns out to be a rabbit hybrid. Amid provocations, power plays, and growing tension, Y/N tries to catch his attention with a lollipop, but he mocks her. Despite his authoritative behavior, Sunghoon can't help but be drawn to her. As Y/n learns more about his hybrid nature, including heat and the knot, their relationship becomes increasingly intense, filled with seductive games and emotional challenges that push them further to their limits.
Sunghoon: My lollipop boy
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Jay: My favorite patient
*synopsis: Jay is a Siberian Husky hybrid, an "alpha" of his family, but something strange is happening: at 22, he has never experienced heat. Despite his dominant nature and the affection he has for those close to him, his body seems to be somehow "stuck." After a chance encounter with Y/n, a young veterinary student specializing in hybrids, Jay realizes that there is something unexpectedly binding him to her. As Y/n helps him uncover what is happening, the two find themselves facing the growing attraction between them, filled with tension and misunderstandings.
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Heeseung: Make be mine
*synopsis: When you, a bright but impulsive student, agree to share the apartment with a dark-eyed and gloomy-looking hybrid deer, Heeseung, you know it’s going to be an intense experience. But you can’t imagine how. He is introverted, controlled, with an animal instinct that desperately tries to keep at bay. You're the opposite: human, daring, stubborn… and curiously attracted by that mysterious aura that Hee carries with her. Between daily squabbles, shared nights, growing jealousies and an imprinting that risks to bind them forever, the boundary between play and desire becomes ever thinner.
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Ni-Ki: Criminal desire (coming soon)
*synopsis: In a secret university where humans and hybrids coexist under strict rules, you are a rare white panther hybrid with a blood disputed and desired, you are forced to seek protection from Ni-Ki, black panther, arrogant and dominant, that everyone fears. They accept a pretended pact of couple, but every kiss, every contact, shakes their boundaries. He writes the rules for her. You rebel. But when their bodies really bond together, they understand that nothing of what they are experiencing is just fiction.
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Sunoo: Only yours forever
*synopsis: You and Sunoo have been friends forever. You and Sunoo have been best friends for years: he, orange fox hybrid, is used to stay close to you, cuddle you, spoil you and you are also a fox hybrid but of snows and both studied at the same university. But when your body begins to change (your first heat comes late, a sign that there is more inside you than you knew), your smell starts to charm it, to shake it. You try to ignore it, but the desire grows. Until one night you wake him up… With red cheeks, trembling, and you ask him what no one else could give you without hurting you but he knows, when a hybrid knocks forever his mate will remain his forever.. Can you see him more than your best friend?
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I hope you like the stories and for the last 3 one-shots if you want to be tagged write me in the comments!
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mickedy · 9 months ago
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You have quite the task ahead of you
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bruisedboys · 2 years ago
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I don't know if this would be something you're interested in but I'd really like to see a protective!finnick. Doesn't have to be related to the games, like reader doesn't need to be a tribute or a rebel but she can be! Up to you, but it'd be interesting to see that side of him
thank you for your request lovely! I challenged myself to write something actually in universe for once, so I hope you enjoy it! (set in catching fire)
finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader cw for reader fainting from the heat
“Be careful.”
Finnick’s big hand on your back, his torso not far behind. He points to a thick tree root in your path. You step over it easily, exasperated. This is maybe the fourth time in the past ten minutes he’s said those same two words.
“I am,” you say simply. You are. If not for your sake then for Finnick’s. If you were to get so much as a cut on your leg he’d lose his mind. “S’hard when you’re standing so close, though.”
Finnick makes a face at you over your shoulder. “Sorry. You’re precious cargo, y’know?”
Your face warms, which is not ideal. You’re already well on your way to becoming a human furnace — the jungle you’re surrounded by is sticky and overly warm. You’re definitely overheating though you won’t tell Finnick that, he’ll only get worse. The water back at the beach is sure to cool you down — you’ll hop in as soon as you get back.
“You’re hopeless,” you tell Finnick in the meantime.
Finnick grins. “For you, yeah.”
You roll your eyes and march on ahead. Slowly the jungle gets thinner and thinner until you’re emerging onto the beach and your makeshift camp. The sun beats down on the landscape, glinting off the ripples in the water and rolling off the white sand in waves. You’re struck suddenly by how agonisingly hot you feel. It was sickeningly warm in the jungle but this is somehow much worse, the heat like a knife, sharp, cruel, and enough to make you dizzy.
“Ah, the lovebirds are back,” Johanna drawls when she spots you and Finnick emerging from the deep green trees. “What took you so long?”
Finnick shrugs. “Oh, you know. Sight-seeing. Did you— hey, what’s wrong?”
You’ve grabbed a tree for support as your vision swims suddenly. Your head pounds, as if your brain is trying to punch it’s way out of your skull. The dizziness you’d felt as soon as you stepped into the sun builds until you’re swaying on your feet.
You try desperately to keep your eyes open but the sun glares at you until you’re forced to squeeze them shut. “I don’t feel very well. I think I’m…”
It’s all you get out before you collapse in half like a rag doll. Finnick shouts your name and surges forward to grab you. He slides an arm under your back while the other grabs at your waist, tight as a vice.
“What the hell?” Johanna says loudly, standing up fast. “Is she okay?”
“Get me some water, please,” Finnick says, strained. You’re clearly not okay. His heart pounds in his throat and threatens to choke him. Johanna runs off and Finnick pulls you into the shade of the trees, carefully lowering you into the sand on your back.
He kneels next to you, panic rising like bile in his throat. Your eyes are closed, your head heavy in his hands.
“Y/N,” he says, an edge of panic to his voice. Please wake up, he thinks. “Y/N, honey.“
You’re completely unresponsive. Thinking the worst, Finnick presses his fingers to your throat. Thankfully, he feels a steady pulse, though it doesn’t do much to calm his spiking worry, not when you’re still unconscious.
“Can you hear me?” He tries gently tapping your cheek but to no avail. He curses. “Johanna!” He yells out, past being polite. “Water, now.”
“It’s coming!” Johanna yells back from the shoreline, clearly as agitated as he is.
Finnick grits his teeth and takes your face in his hands, trying his best to be gentle when he’s so panic stricken. “Hey. Baby, come on. Wake up.”
When you don’t respond, he carefully lowers your head and swiftly slides his hands to your shoulders. He’s careful but firm as he shakes you. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t ever want to be rough with you, but he’s glad he’s done it because it works. Just as Johanna arrives with a seashell full of water, Peeta and Katniss hot on her heels, your breath catches. Then your eyelids flutter, and then your lips part.
“Finnick?”
Finnick releases a shuddering breath, his heartbeat a pounding drum in his ears. The relief in hearing your voice is akin to a spear being pulled out of his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, hey, I’ve got you. You can hear me, right?”
“I can hear you,” you say. You try to turn your head, searching for him even in your disoriented state, but Finnick holds you in place.
“Don’t move, sweet thing,” he tells you. Unable to look away from you until he knows you’re absolutely alright, Finnick puts his hand out for the water wordlessly. Johanna hands it to him quick as a flash. “Can you open your eyes?”
You can, though it takes you a little while, blinking sluggishly in the harsh light. Finnick’s quick to shade your face with one hand. Your eyes appear, glazed but beautiful as always.
“Good girl,” Finnick tells you, hand on your cheek. He’s still buzzing — the heat of the sudden onslaught of panic hasn’t dissipated just yet. He carefully strokes your hair away from your sweaty neck with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna cool you down, okay? Can I unzip you?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Finnick unzips your suit halfway down your chest, taking care to angle his torso so the others don’t see anything they don’t have to. Slowly, he tips the water over your hot skin. It slides over the slopes of your shoulders and creeps down into your suit. It must feel good because you shudder and let out a small breath.
Finnick thumbs your collarbone, feeling overwhelmed with relief. His hands don’t leave you, afraid you’ll disappear again if he lets go. The panic ebbs slowly as he watches you come back to life, your eyes becoming clearer by the second.
“She’s okay?” Peeta speaks up after a long moment of silence.
Finnick nods. “She’s okay,” he assures. “It was the heat, I think.” He finally lets himself look away from you, if only to ask Peeta, “Could you get us some more water?”
“Yeah, of course.”
The other three all trail off, leaving you and Finnick on your own. You try to sit up as they leave but Finnick presses his hand to your chest, palm flat on your warm skin.
“Don’t,” he says. “You’ve gotta lay flat, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, looking bashful. “Sorry,” you say softly.
“Don’t be sorry. No more fainting though, okay?” He rubs your shoulder. “I know I’m really handsome, but you don’t have to be so drastic about it.”
You groan but it quickly morphs into a laugh. Finnick kisses your forehead and then holds your hand until Peeta returns with the water.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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reyalvr · 1 year ago
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RUMORS!
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I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!
synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?
genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot
pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!
word count ┊ 2.2k
author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)
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THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 
From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 
You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 
Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 
Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?
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IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 
Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 
“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 
Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 
You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.
You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.
“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”
For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.
The nerve.
“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”
“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:
OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!
Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 
“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 
Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 
“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.
“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”
He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”
You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.
When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”
The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 
“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”
At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”
You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”
“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 
You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 
“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 
He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”
You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”
“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 
“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 
Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 
“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”
 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”
“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 
He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.
“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 
“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 
You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 
“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”
“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”
“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”
“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”
“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 
He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 
He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?
You always were.
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lostinlovingrevery · 5 months ago
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Indecisive
70s DOFP! Logan X Curvy! F! Reader
A/n: This got away from me.
Plot: You're indecisive about everything- and soon you become unsure about Logan. He makes sure to get rid of those doubts of yours.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only!, DUB-CON (like a lot but reader is super into it), kinda rough sex, dom! logan, oral (f! recieving), logans a total munch, doggy style, the claws come out, readers described as curvy but not super relevant to the plot?
Word Count: 3960
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You weren’t sure about him.
You met Logan a few weeks ago, you bumped into each other at the local park near your apartment. One look at him made your knees weak - you had never seen a man look so good before. 
Tall- much taller than you, muscular, wearing a tight black t-shirt that stretched across his chest and looked as if it would rip and he dared to flex at all. Over that, a black leather jacket, a little worn at the shoulder. Dark blue jeans, that hugged his hips and thighs, sporting a thick belt, with some interesting design that you couldn’t make out - because you couldn’t just sit and stare at his crotch the entire time. His face was very nice to look at anyway, with a sort of slicked back style and a widows peak hairstyle that was very distinctive, mutton chops going down his jawline and stopping at his chin. Pretty hazel eyes that stared right through you- an intensity that you couldn’t help but blush under. 
He’s so handsome!
You had been distracted, busy staring down at a notebook that you had your arm cradling as you walked the path you were so familiar with. You were in the process of starting a business- a florist shop, and there were hundreds of things to decide. Which was unfortunate for you, since you were the most indecisive person on Earth.
What to eat for breakfast, what shoes to wear, what drink to order, what lipstick to put on,
It goes on and on, your day is constantly full of questions, comparing your choices and trying to pick the best one. Honestly it’s a wonder how you managed to get this far in life, considering you could stand in the middle of the store for eternity comparing the colors of a dress you like- unable to decide what you thought looked better on you.
Should I go to school?
Should I start a business?
Should I keep seeing him?
After you finished fumbling apologies to him, while he gave you that cute little smile that made you practically want to melt under his stare- he asked you out. It surprised you, seeing that you were a girl on a more…curvier side. It wasn’t that you were unattractive, you knew your body well and you certainly weren’t indecisive on your confidence; even if you do meticulously craft your outfit of the day to make sure you look good as possible- even if it is painstakingly long process that it takes for you to even decide your outfit… Logan though, didn’t seem like the type to go after girls like you. He seemed the type to be inclined towards thinner girls, girls that looked like super models off the runway. You didn’t hold any bitterness towards that thought, everyone had a type. 
You weren’t sure about saying yes, since you merely just met him- and he, sensing your indecisiveness, gave you a time and place. The way he took charge, helped you make the decision and it displayed how obviously interested he was in seeing you again attracted you like no other. 
So you showed up, you had a good time with him. He made you laugh, charmed you like no other man has. You shared your first kiss with him that night- one that you spent in your bed thinking about all night, giddy and blushing. The next few weeks went by and he would call and set up another date, and another, and another
The initiative he took turned you on like no other. His quiet assertiveness brought you a certain comfort you weren’t familiar with- the way he was sure of himself. The cocky confidence he’d bring during your conversations- it would make you laugh, the way he’d smirk and say something snarky. 
It was great, until tonight. Doubts started creeping into your mind, as you picked up on little things about him. Things that screamed trouble and heartbreak. You didn’t mind the trouble, not at all. It was the heartbreak that scared you. You felt yourself falling for him, but you weren’t sure if you should let yourself. He didn’t seem like the type to want to stick around- after you heard his stories of the travels he’s had. While he certainly seemed eager to see you, he hasn’t brought up anything about becoming serious, and you haven’t slept together yet- your own personal way of screening potential lovers.
 It’s not like you want to hold out on purpose- you would’ve jumped his bones the moment you met, but you’ve been burned by men just wanting to sleep around - and you did not appreciate being led on by a potential of something real, when really it was just physical. 
Tonight's date with him went by, and you felt something weird- your own doubts may have been playing in. It led you to question if you should keep this going. More of being unsure of your life.
For now, you decided to put the decision on a backburner while you undressed and took a shower, letting the warm water flow over you as you attempted to plan your day tomorrow. The sound of the shower meant you didn’t hear Logan coming into your apartment. 
How could he not stop by?
You were acting differently tonight, not as happy, or perky. You weren’t holding his hand as often, smiling as often. Your mind seemed to be in another world. He had the feeling, after observing your little quirk of being unsure over things, that maybe you were feeling unsure about him.
He didn’t like the feeling. 
Since he met you, he was obsessed. You have captured him in every way possible. It wasn’t easy to get his attention, Logan was always looking for the next thing, something better. The most it came to relationships for him was one-night stands, one where he seduced someone with a smile and a few cheap compliments, brought her back to a cheap motel, and got his rocks off- and left before the night even ended. He had his own place but he didn’t need women who had the misfortune of encountering him trying to seek him out again, because he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything that was more than physical. 
Until he met you.
God, you drove him insane. He thinks about you more than he cares to admit. Your pretty lips that curve into that smile that makes his dick twitch. Your curves, that he’s traced with his eyes so many times that he can picture you perfectly in his mind. He stared at the way your breasts bounced when you laughed, the way your hips moved when you’d walk away, the love handles that were barely prominent in your usual clothes unless you were wearing something tight, he wanted to grip them as he fucked into you hard and completely undo you. He was addicted to you and he hadn’t even gotten a taste of you yet. A true taste. Your lips were so sweet, and he’d capture you in a kiss multiple times a night- never able to get enough of the sugar high you gave him. 
It wasn’t just your beauty that captivated him. You were fierce, intelligent, and very passionate. You told him all about your little business you were starting, and your time in college, you’ve gone on a tangent more times about everything ranging from politics to flowers. He loved that passion he saw in your eyes and heard in your voice, it was something he hadn’t even realized he was looking for, something that he was missing. 
You’d downplay yourself more times than once, always riding about how indecisive you were. You weren’t indecisive. You were passionate. You wanted to make sure you enjoyed everything life gave you, you didn’t want to miss out. Maybe you took a little longer to decide on whether you wanted to try the blue fruity drink, or the red. Logan didn’t mind that though- it made the world slow down when you took your time. His world was rushed, he never took a moment to appreciate where he was till he was with you. 
He was excited about you- which is why he never pushed you toward any more…physical connections. He knew you’d open up to him when you were ready. He just had to keep himself satisfied by getting himself off to the thought of you every night since he’d met you. How badly has he resisted the urge to rip off your pretty little dress that hugged your curves and ruin you. He knew he’ll get that chance eventually- he was arrogant like that. He was willing to take time, especially considering he still had to tell you about who he was- something he wasn’t quite sure how to approach, since it hadn’t been an issue before with his no-strings-attached lifestyle.
Seeing you pulling away from him sent him into something dark and possessive. He could see where your indecisiveness was an issue- but he refused to let it be that way. You were the best thing he’s come across in over a century, He certainly wasn’t going to let that go over some uncertainty.
He knew you wanted him. He could smell it off you every time you met up, he could see it in your eyes the way you traced over his figure, a small blush coming to your cheeks and you’d quickly look away. How’d you get flustered when he’d get closer, putting his hand on your knee and squeezing, before letting his flinger flit underneath the hem of your dress, teasing you. 
He had no problem getting rid of your doubts. 
You stepped out of the shower, steaming filling the bathroom, as you grabbed your robe, something silky and small, barely covering you even as you tied the robe shut. You used a towel to dry your hair, and brushed your teeth, unknowing of the man lurking in your living room- waiting for you to come out. 
After you brushed your teeth, your hair- you were ready for bed. You stepped out of the bathroom, steam pouring out through the doorway into the dark hallway. You begin turning towards your bedroom when a voice reaches your ear, and sends goosebumps down your arms.
“You take a long time in there.” 
You turned around with a gasp. Logan was standing in front of your door, a faint smile on his face, and a look in his eye you’re not sure was anger or lust. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, as he stood there. You swallowed, your heart beginning to pound. 
“Lo…Logan what…What are you doing here? How did you get in?” You asked, trying to hide the fear you felt beginning to rise in you. 
“Wanted to see you.” He says, taking a step forward. “You rushed out tonight.”
“I…I’m sorry I was just…I was tired, long day.” You stammered. His eyes went down, tracing over you, and it occurred to you that you were barely clad in your robe. You pulled it shut around your chest area, attempting to keep yourself covered. A frown came across his face.
“Don’t do that.” He says stepping closer to you. “Don’t cover what’s mine.” 
“Excuse me?” You say with a bit of disbelief. “Logan I…I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings or something but you coming in here like this is…is…”
“Is what doll?” He smirked. He was in front of you now, towering over you. You avoided looking at him, annoyed because his proximity to you was making your thighs clench together. You knew it was wrong, he practically broke into your apartment. Any other sane woman would be screaming their heads off, telling him to get out, throw things at him! 
Yet the closer he stood to you, the less fear you felt, and more curiosity of what he was planning came to mind.
“Not sure what to say?” He asks a quirk of arrogance in his tone. You swallowed, and you finally looked up at him. He brought his hand up, his pointer finger tucking underneath your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He smirked. “Feeling indecisive again sweetheart?” He coos.
“Logan…”
“Feeling unsure about us?” He asks. You blink in surprise, your expression confirming his suspicions. He tuts, shaking his head, his hand slowly but firmly grabbing your face, his thumb and finger digging into the fat of your cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker. It was a move of dominance you hadn’t seen from him before, and you were ashamed to say you absolutely loved it. “How about I make that decision for you?” He says in a low voice. His lips crashed onto yours in a messy and rough kiss, your hands coming up to press against his chest - you’re still unsure about pulling him closer, or pushing him away. 
Before you could react, he grabbed you, his arm around your waist as he lifted you, before roughly bringing you to the carpeted floor with him ontop of you. 
Holy shit
He let go of you, his hand reaching down, ripping the belt of your robe off, and the silk fell to the side, exposing you completely to him. You gasped.
“Logan!” You reached your hand out, for what you didn’t know. He grabbed it, and your other hand, pinning them above your head as he used his knees to kick your legs open, his thighs pressing against yours-keeping them spread. Your skin felt on fire, embarrassment at being exposed like this running through you, making your body shiver as Logan stared down at you, his tongue coming out to lick his lips as if he was looking down at a full course meal. You knew it was wrong- you shouldn’t let him do this, but arousal began coating your heat between your legs, you felt yourself aching for stimulation- and you couldn’t help but find yourself loving how he took charge of you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had fantasies of him taking you like this before…You just never thought that would ever happen. 
“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined…” He mutters, his eyes trailing over every inch of you. He used one hand to keep yours pinned above you, as his free hand moved to grope your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple as it hardened under his touch, making you whimper as you began to squirm under him. “Don’t act like you don’t want this sweetheart.” He looks back up at you, “You’re soaked, see?” 
His hand let go of your breast, two fingers swiping through your folds, making your hips jerk up, as he chuckled, holding the two fingers up and examining the slick he collected on them. You watched with wide eyes and parted lips as he brought them to his mouth, his tongue coming and tasting you on his fingers. He let out a deep groan as he closed his eyes, sticking his fingers into his mouth and taking the rest of your essence. 
“Fuck.” He hissed. He let go of your wrists, his arms going under your thighs and lifting your upper half up to his face as he was still on his knees. You yelped, your hands came down to the floor, as you attempted to make up for the awkward position he dragged you in, your thighs thrown over his shoulders as he held a death grip on your hips. 
His nose pressed to your mound, taking a deep inhale of you, and you covered your mouth as your face ran red hot at the filthy action. 
God, he’s filthy!
He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit, and let out an involuntary moan. His tongue ran rough circles around your clit. Your head tipped back, your eyes rolling. He began eating you out, almost desperately, his tongue dipping into your pulsing cunt, before licking another stripe through you, and nipping at your clit. It made your hips jerk and a whine escaped you. 
You couldn’t take this, the way he was munching on you like a man starved, how your lower half body was suspended in air, you had no control. You melted into him, your hand finally reaching up to grip his hair- making him groan, his eyes opening to look down at you. You felt a honey-tight feeling in the pit of your stomach, and with little control you had, attempted to grind your hips against his face. You snapped, and a heat of release ran through you, soaking his face in your fluids.
You couldn’t completely tell in your post-coitus haze, but you swear he was laughing.
You were lowered down to the carpet, thighs spread and trembling. 
“The things I’m going to do to you…” You heard him mutter. You felt his hands grab you again, and flip you on your stomach. His knees kept your legs spread, lifting your ass in the air, and he leaned over your body, bracing one arm next to your head. You heard him shuffling, the clink of his belt. 
You felt his tip brush through your slit and gasped. 
Fuck, he’s huge
You felt his breath on your ear. “You’re so damn gorgeous darling. I’ve been obsessed with you since we met.” He says lowly, sending goosebumps through your skin. “Tell me sweetheart, are you unsure about us now?” He mutters. Your breath hitched, and you shook your head. He smirked, something devilishly, as he pushed his tip inside you. “Good.” he growls, before pushing himself inside.
 You cried out, the mere size of him felt like too much as he stretched you out. “Sshh, you’re alright.” He cooed, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw, while his other braced himself on top of you. “You can take it sweet girl- fuck-” He pressed his head into yours, “You feel so good.” 
Your body trembled under him, he moved his hips back, before thrusting into you slowly again, allowing you to adjust to his size. His chest pressed against your back, you could feel the complete weight of him on top of you. Not crushing you- something that felt completely safe and warm. 
“Logan-” You whined, desperate for more, arching your back against him. He chuckled, a sound that shot straight through you, making you clench around him. 
“I got you baby, just relax.” He mutters, before he picks up his pace, thrusting in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. He held onto your jaw, his nose pressing into your hair as you listened to him grunt and growl with each thrust. 
He got faster, your arms stretched out, hands attempting to grip the carpet for some kind of leverage. He was going so fast you don’t even know how he managed to have the stamina, as your eyes rolled back, the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you was enough to make you go dumb and pliant. He suddenly slowed down, making deep- slow thrusts where he nearly pulled completely out, before burying himself inside you again, making you cry out. The hand cradling your jaw came up, covering your mouth to hide your noises.
“Much as I like hearing those pretty noises, don’t need the neighbors complaining darling.” He mutters. He picked his pace again, pounding into your pussy, your whole body shaking underneath him. His arm that kept him braced on the floor wrapped around your hip, his hand gripping at your love handles, angling you higher- practically folding your body in half against him.
The new angle made you feel like you were going to pass out. His cock was pounding into that special spot, making you unable to think of anything, as your body hummed with your second orgasm, approaching quickly. You began whining his name into his hand, and he grunted. 
“Fuck, fuck keep saying my name.” He growled, moving his hand from your lips a bit, just so he could hear you repeating his name over and over. “Oh fuck-” 
His hands released his grip on you, as they came into your view, fists slamming into the floor- and your eyes widened as your watched sharp bone-like appendages protrude from his fist. 
Oh shit-
You couldn’t barely react or acknowledged anything, as the tight thread that was growing in your stomach accordance with Logans thrusts finally snapped, waves of ecstasy rolling over your body, over and over as your eyes rolled back, and Logan’s hips snapped against your ass one more time, filling you up with warm spurts of his cum. He whined and grunted, a few lazy thrusts as he continued spilling into you, before finally stopping, his head collapsing onto your shoulder. 
Your heart was racing, and you could barely see straight from the explosive orgasm that ran through you, but you attempted to focus on his hands, where the sharp appendages were still out. Your hand reached out, gently touching his, and he loosened his fist as you ran your fingers over his palm. You felt him pressing kisses along your shoulder. 
“You okay?” He muttered softly. You nodded, swallowing. 
“You’re a mutant?”
“Yeah.” He says. That explains the stamina
 You didn’t know much about them, other than the fact that the U.S government announced that they were real and a part of the population. Some people were terrified of the idea- but you simply thought nothing of it. Just cause they could do things some couldn’t didn’t mean they weren’t people either- just like Logan. “That bother you?”
“No…” You shook your head, still looking at his hand. He chuckled. 
“You were quick to answer that one.”
“Nothing to be unsure about with that.” You say matter-of-factly. He leaned over and kissed your cheek.
“Good.” He mutters. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet sweetheart.” 
“Wait- what?” 
You shrieked as he pulled out, pulling you up from the ground.
You spent the rest of the night being completely undone by him. He made sure to fuck out any doubt or questions you had about you and him- at least physically. He plans to make sure you never have to feel unsure about him ever. 
Something about Logan doing what he did solidified your decision, it wasn't just how the sex was great- but the way he desperately wanted to show you he cared- that he could take care of you, that he wanted to be apart of your life. He may have acted like he was in control, but every movement, every touch, kiss, thrust- felt like he was begging for you to keep him around. There was still things to talk about- such as the mutant thing, but your connection had officially solidified, as you felt you finally made a decision you can add to your list of 'good decisions'.
The next morning, you woke up in bed, wrapped in his arms. Fatigue plagued you, and you barely could feel your legs after the positions he’d managed to put you in- positions you didn’t even know existed. He woke from your shifting, eyes looking at you with adoration and a faint smile on his face. 
“Morning doll.” He greets, voice low with an edge of sleep. 
“Morning Lo.” You smiled, bringing your hand to his chest.
“You hungry?”
“Yeah.” You nod. He sat up, an arm still wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned over you. 
“What d’ya want for breakfast?” He asks. You looked up at him with a raised brow, reminding him of your indecisiveness and he chuckled, a small shake of his head. “Alright. Alright. How about waffles?” 
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aphrodicci · 1 year ago
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𝔞𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔫��� 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶
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♇ my discord chat chose this to be my 9,600 or 9,700 followers post? either way thank you so much for being with me for this path, i appreciate everyone :)
ʙᴜʏ ᴘᴀɪᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇꜱ ɢᴏ ᴜᴘ can get a paid venus/beauty/relationship reading from me!
follow for more content!
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ᴀʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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RIHANNA, NIKKI REED, BILLIE EILISH AND KENDALL JENNER.
♇ aries ascendant beauty involves them having long heads, or a diamond head-shape, but they usually have a really nice side-profile. they're usually people who have slanted eyes, or sanpaku eyes, [there could be another proper word for it?], though i noticed that they have a large space of whites under their eyes, specifically rihanna, billie and kendall.
♇ their lower face is sharp, and smaller/thinner than their upper-face. they're women who can suit dark hair, and they naturally have dark and sharp eyebrows. most of the times, their eyebrows are straight. they have a thin nose bridge, and a long mid-face, full and distinct cheekbones along with full lips and an apparent cupids bow.
♇ they have a clear redness on their faces, specifically cheeks, like a natural blush. a pointy chin and foreheads that could be considered as large, or in a "nicer" term, a broad forehead.
ᴛᴀᴜʀᴜꜱ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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MILEY CYRUS, PHOEBE TONKIN, GIGI HADID AND MEGAN THEE STALLION.
♇ taurus ascendants have small heads and very strong cheek-bones, if it doesnt show naturally, it shows a lot when they smile. they tend to have full lips, but the lower lip is usually bigger than the upper lip. the tip of their nose is usually bulbous, i believe taurus rules the nose, if i am correct, especially because it rules the cow! <3
♇ they usually have very arched eyebrows, known as the venusian arch. compared to the aries ascendant, taurus ascendants usually have a wider nose bridge, and a short mid-face.
♇ their eyes could be considered as mesmerising and intense as their stare is usually very strong. their cheek bones are low, it gives them an apple shaped face. while doing my research, i noticed that most of them have wide lips and square heads, but it suits them really well.
ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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LADY GAGA, AMY WINEHOUSE, MADISON BEER AND KRISTEN STEWART.
♇ gemini ascendants usually have a pale undertone, and their lips are usually naturally thin and very straight [also wide] with their upper lip being sharp, it could be deemed that they have a strong cupid's bow as well. the tip of their nose are usually distinct, whether it be big, bulbous, something about it would just stick out.
♇ they look good while wearing winged-eyeliner, and gemini ascendant people are usually individuals who have a long mid-face, and i've noticed that their face tends to stick out and can be very long but circular. one thing i noticed about gemini ascendants, specifically those who have strong mercurial placements, [specifically gemini] they tend to have a long edge at the side of their lips, it reminds me of joker lips since how wide it can be.
♇ their lips are usually very pink and they have slender necks. their eyes are usually colourful or could be considered as very pale. their beauty involves them having square foreheads/or a squared upper head. and if their heads arent oval, they tend to be very structured.
ᴄᴀɴᴄᴇʀ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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♇ cancer ascendant beauty involves them having big and beautiful smiles, the tail of their eyebrows tend to be long, while the front of their eyebrows are short. as expected, they have the crescent moon face touch, so sometimes their face could be unsymmetrical, specifically the lower jaw, [unsymmetrical does not mean not beautiful].
♇ their nose tip usually are wide, and their eyes are bright, usually looks like its glistening. their upper lip tend to be smaller than their lower lip, and they have full cheekbones and meaty chins. most of the cancer ascendants i have met have clear skins or it could have a lot of freckles or moles.
♇ cancer ascendants usually have strong but soft features, it stands out, especially when they turn to the side. and i noticed they usually have long noses.
ʟᴇᴏ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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MARILYN MONROE, VANESSA HUDGENS, BLAKE LIVELY AND JESSICA ALBA.
♇ very mesmerising beauty here, leo ascendants do well when they have bright coloured hair, specifically golden/blonde, they also have a bronze/golden undertone. their beauty also involves them having a heart shaped mouth and a long nose bridge.
♇ they're normally short women and have a square or rectangular face, and their chins are usually flat or wide, or both. most leo ascendants have feline eyes and full eyelashes. their beauty contains them having prominent smile lines and nice shoulders.
♇ as they have good posture, leo ascendant beauty includes them having a square fore-head and rosy cheeks. they normally have straight or nice teeth, usually because of virgo being in their second house.
ᴠɪʀɢᴏ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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LADAN FARAH, BELLA HADID, MILLIE BOBBY BROWN AND BROOKE SHIELDS.
♇ they sure do love their side profiles! virgo ascendant beauty includes them having pointy chins, sometimes it goes forwards, they have a prominent nose, could sometimes be seen as a "beak nose" as it's usually thin, very structured or bony. their upper face is square and their lips are usually wide.
♇ virgo ascendant beauty involves hem having a thin/narrow face, either doe eyes or feline eyes, either way, their eyes are usually big. they have arched eyebrows and usually a clean look, a structured jaw and sometimes a micro chin.
♇ noted that virgo ascendants usually have a dimple somewhere on their face, specifically their cheek or on their chin. and their figures are very thin most of the time, or they can appear as frail.
ʟɪʙʀᴀ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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BEYONCE, ANNA NICOLE SMITH, DOJA CAT, ZOE KRAVITZ.
♇ i noticed a lot of them have a light undertone, much libra ascendant beauty involves them having an oval face, [but as libra ascendant is a light essence, their other placements can over take, like anna nicole smith's sagittarius sun making her face more chiselled]. they have a lot of beauty moles and have a glow to them, it could be that hera touch.
♇ a thin nose bridge, very pink lips, and lips that could be considered as pouty. usually like to wear light/earthy coloured clothes, and have short foreheads, or foreheads that are medium sized. like to go for the light coloured hair styles.
♇ as they have a short lower face, their bodies can come off as very relaxed, with them having strong stares, they sometimes appear like they have superior looks. they usually wear much accessories.
ꜱᴄᴏʀᴘɪᴏ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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LANA DEL REY, LILY ROSE, EVA LONGORIA AND JANET JACKSON.
♇ scorpio ascendant beauty is them having dark attractive brows, strong cheek bones and a smaller upper lip. they have owl faces, they sometimes bring their faces forward like one, especially with them having slender necks, them looking like an owl intensifies.
♇ their jaw, chiefly the side of their jaws could be long, and their beauty includes eyes that twinkles, chins that are flat, and a low mid face, it makes them look like baby dolls.
♇ could be into having really dark or light hair, but the light hair are usually with scorpio moons. their beauty involves them having curly/wavy hair, and a full face that is still structured. or you can say chiselled. they could have similar thin noses to virgo risings, but it is not as bony looking.
ꜱᴀɢɪᴛᴛᴀʀɪᴜꜱ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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KIM KARDASHIAN, PARIS HILTON, ADRIANA LIMA AND JESSICA ALEXANDER.
♇ their big sultry eyes is apart of their allure, their eyes come off as darty, and sometimes they can be the hardest ascendant to tell, appearance wise. they're people who do well with nude colours, and when it comes to their lips, their lower lip appears to be larger than their upper lip.
♇ with high cheekbones, they sometimes tend to pucker their lips a lot, which is funny because it gives the horse face structure, [im a sagittarius ascendant]. their beauty is their long noses with a buttoned tip, their nose bridges could be thin but as the nose goes lower, it can be very wide in comparison to the nose bridge.
♇ they usually have straight eyebrows, long but square faces, and heavy eye make up compliments them well. sagittarius ascendants beauty involves them having big gummy smiles and having this elf/fairy essence.
ᴄᴀᴘʀɪᴄᴏʀɴ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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KYLIE JENNER, AISHWARYA RAI, ARIANA GRANDE AND MEGAN FOX.
♇ capricorn ascendant beauty has them mostly having short and square faces, doe eyes and eyes that are a light shade, with it being paired with having strong noses, they come off as daring and sultry. their eyebrows are usually arched, almost horn-like. most capricorn ascendants have very light pink coloured lips.
♇ they tend to have a small but pointy chin, somewhat like their sister sign, cancer. capricorn ascendant beauty involves them having most of their features in the middle, and they can sometimes appear like they're fragile, example, ariana grande. with the other capricorn ascendant people i've done research on, they usually tend to do surgery.
♇ their beauty involves them having almond shaped eyes and full eye-lashes, like dolls. they remind me of blythe dolls. most of them have this cold beauty, a type of essence that makes them appear like they're hard to reach, muted colours look good on them as well. and i've noticed they have dimples.
ᴀQᴜᴀʀɪᴜꜱ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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GABRIETTE, ZENDAYA, AURDREY HEPBURN AND AALIYAH.
♇ tim burton kind of beauty, have a specific hairstyle, and like the sign they share the same planet with, capricorn, aquarius ascendants have square heads. compared to other aquarius placements, aquarius ascendants are least likely going to have alien shaped heads in my opinion. on the other hand, their beauty involves them having a ghostly or classic type of beauty.
♇ they have pretty hands, could be the aries in the third house, and are likely interest in thin brows, or could be into styling them. overall, the eyebrows are distinct. they tend to have a big sized nose, and when it comes to their eye shapes, they are usually slender and kind of downturned, or it looks sleepy. red lipstick looks good on them.
♇ tend to have a dimple in their chin, and have sad eyes, the tip of their noses are sometimes downturned. and they have low cheekbones which adds onto their ghostly/ghastly look.
ᴘɪꜱᴄᴇꜱ ᴀꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ
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BARBARA PALVIN, ROSÉ, JENNA ORTEGA AND SABRINA CARPENTER.
♇ they look like both baby cows but fishes at the same time, specifically the female fish from fishtales, their cheeks are usually full and puffy, and their beauty involves them having very blue eyes, if not blue, it appears as very watery. when i was looking at pictures of them, most of them had their mouths open...it's a cute fish thing.
♇ they have diamond heads and sharp chins, their beauty involves them having short eyebrows, and tend to have a surprised but focused look. they look good in many colours, but specifically pink.
♇ pisces ascendants tend to have chiselled faces, and big eyes and small figures, if not by the help by other planets. women who are pisces ascendants tend to be midgets, but its a cute look on them.
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ʙᴜʏ ᴘᴀɪᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇꜱ ɢᴏ ᴜᴘ can get a paid venus/beauty/relationship reading from me!
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2K notes · View notes
gffa · 7 months ago
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*walks back into BATFAMILY fic fandom eleven months later, holding a Starbucks cup* I'm right on time, I don't know what you mean. AND I have returned with the fruits of a fandom that continues to be incredible at providing the good stuff! Sometimes it's still hard for me to grasp just how much fic has exploded onto the scene in the 10+ years I was away from DC, that there was some incredible fic back when I was into the fandom, but coming back to actual mountains of it has continued to blow my mind every time and made me love these characters even more than I already did.
It's almost overwhelming, honestly, how much good fic there is to read, so let me scream at you guys and shove links at you because I'm having a great time here and I want to drag all of you into it with me, COME HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT RIDICULOUSLY DRESSED SUPERHERO COMICS WITH ME, it's all fun and games, I swear! (Okay, but at least you'll have a good time crying about the Bats, I can give you that much at least.)
BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST GREMLIN ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ sleepless, perfect duty by glassofwater, dick & bruce, 4.3k     The choice to forgo sleep, to forgo Dick Grayson, has never been easier. Not when the other option is Robin. ✦ Parallels in Reverse by rosetteanon, dick & damian & bruce, time travel, 2.2k     Damian travels to a dimension that's a little bit behind his own. There, he meets a younger Dick Grayson, and a happier Bruce Wayne. ✦ string theory by wingdingery, dick & bruce & damian, time travel, 8k     When Bruce and Dick get transported to an unfamiliar Gotham, it only takes running into a different Batman and Robin for Bruce to realize two things: one, they’re in the future; and two—in the future, Dick Grayson is dead. ✦ Rooftop Meetings by orphan_account, dick & bruce & leslie & shrike & cast, 10.2k wip     When Two-Face almost beats a newly minted Robin to death, Bruce decides that the life of a vigilante is too dangerous for a kid. This becomes the catalyst for a series of events that leads twelve-year-old Dick Grayson down a darker path. ✦ It Could Stay This Simple (Just Stay This Little) by coconuticecream (magspie), dick & bruce, 3k     Maybe claiming legal guardianship over a child at 22, and so soon after becoming Batman, spread Bruce thinner than he'd realized. Maybe Bruce was less equipped to parent a third grader than he'd thought. Maybe Bruce should do more to invite Dick into his life. Maybe Bruce should hug Dick, or promise he'll do better by Dick, or tell Dick that he loves Dick more than he thought himself capable. (or: bruce and dick practice self care together.) ✦ No One Said Flying Was Easy by Wrtrmd2, dick & bruce & alfred, 51.1k     Eight year old Richard Grayson has just watched his parents fall to their deaths. Hurting and alone, he struggles to adjust to the new life he's thrown into. Bruce Wayne takes him in, but seems to have no idea what he's doing. Can they help each other put the pieces of their broken lives back together?
✦ Zitka by PechoraFlow, dick & bruce, 2.7k     After Dick's parents fall to their deaths, he is left clinging to the few things he has left: one of them being Zitka, his stuffed elephant. ✦ your heart is the only place that i call home by emavee, dick & bruce, talon!dick, 6.3k     There shouldn’t be any Talons that are this small, this young, but there’s one standing right in front of him. And that shouldn’t be Bruce’s soulmark blooming on his too-pale skin, but it is—there’s nothing else it could be. Batman really should know better than to bring a Talon home with him, but here he is, wrapping up the boy in a set of meta-cuffs and tucking him into the backseat of the car. ✦ Hostage by EternalLife, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.9k     Dick Grayson is 10 years old. Batman is nowhere to be seen, and Robin has a gun to his head. ✦ The Mother-Son Dance by cometoastop, bruce & dick, 1.8k     Dick is upset he doesn’t have a mother to bring him to his school’s mother-son dance, so Bruce offers to bring him instead.
BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Permission To Pause by farawayfiction (JJ_Thomas), dick & bruce, 1.9k     Bruce pulled the phone from his pocket. A text from Dick was waiting for him on the notification screen. ✦ oathbreaker by one_step_closer_to_death, dick & bruce & cast, 2.3k     Stranded and on his last leg, Batman might be fighting his last battle yet. But Bruce promised he was coming back home and this was one promise he wasn't going to break yet. ✦ Judge and Juror by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & alfred, 6.6k     Anonymous asked: I was just wondering if you would like to write a story set during bvs and how Nightwing could be involved there? ✦ When You Don't Have an Umbrella by TheSilencer, dick & bruce, read the tags, 1.2k     Dick Grayson and Batman talk about the rain. Except they're not actually talking about the rain. ✦ riding the blues by TheResurrectionist, dick & bruce & oc, 3.9k     “What’s in there, anyway?” Charles asked, rolling down the window. “Looks heavy.” “A few million dollars' worth of electroshock weapons,” the kid said, dead-serious. After a moment, a grin stretched across his face. “Nah, I’m just fucking with you. It’s old clothes, mostly.” ✦ Lexically Homeless by nighhtwing (divineauthor), dick & bruce, 1.1k     Dick, Bruce, and their relationship with language and each other.
BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & alfred, de-aged!dick, 17k wip     Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Weight of Judgment by Dragonbat, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.6k     As leader of the Teen Titans, Dick had to make a difficult decision. Now he's dealing with the fallout. ✦ Robins, titmice, and other spring birds by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & jason & bruce, 8.5k     There are a lot of things Jason doesn’t understand in the dynamic of the Wayne manor, despite being here for nine months. Maybe a rescue turning a little more dangerous than it should have been for Robin will help him see things clearly? ✦ bachelor parties of different sorts by cedarcat, dick & jason & barbara & cass & bruce (& background dick/babs), read the tags, 4.4k     Dick and Barbara are engaged. There's just one complicating factor that Dick has to deal with. He'd rather avoid it. aka: the one where dick handles past trauma poorly, finds the support he needs in his family, and comes out better for it. ✦ Kitchen Talk by Smitty, dick & alfred, 3.1k     Dick Grayson gets some good advice in the hours before Nightwing #45. ✦ Teach Me to Dream by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & alfred & leslie & cast, time travel, 29k wip     Dick’s eleven. Not thirteen and eager to prove himself. Not seventeen and mourning a brother. Not nineteen and wishing his best friend wasn’t dead and Bruce would look him in the eyes. He’s only eleven. So why does he remember all of that? ✦ like the back of my hand by Jo_B, dick & bruce & conner & dick/babs, 2k     “Cut it out.” “Would you stay still, please?” Dick swats Bruce’s hand away and starts pushing himself up. “Y’know, in the wild, bats eat their kids.” “That’s not even a little bit true and you know it.” ✦ idea man by vaporeon_ninja, dick & bruce & jason & damian, 8.3k     Ask him. As if it were that easy. As if Damian hasn’t only just barely begun to respect him, and would immediately burn all the ground they’ve covered if Dick so much as implied he wanted to help him get through something. Yeah, fat chance. No, Dick can’t ask him. But he can’t just keep doing nothing, either. So he decides on a third option- just start trying anything. ✦ One of His Own by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & damian & alfred, 1.3k     Dick's freshly back from Spyral and apartment hunting. Little Does he know his dad has already got that covered. ✦ Now That's a Lot of Damage by Sanctioned_Chaos, dick & bruce & jason & tim & cass & cast, 5k wip     On a joint operation with the Justice League, Dick's family falls victim to a particularly malignant curse and he's the only one who can free them. Consequently, it makes him the subject of their suffering.
BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_ODuibhir, dick & jason & bruce & leslie & cast, 70k     For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.) ✦ Red In My Ledger by WordsAblaze, dick & jason, 1.1k     day five, where jason realises a little too late that dick isn’t an intruder breaking into his safehouse... ✦ Fixed Points and Fluxes by i_am_the_imposter_syndrome, dick & jason (& bruce), 16.5k wip     When a mission involving a mysterious sorcerer goes wrong, Dick and Jason find themselves out of time and place in a Gotham that’s not quite their own. Protocol dictates they lie low and avoid unnecessary interactions as much as possible until they can get home, but their family here is fractured, and if there’s one thing that’s constant across universes, it’s that Bats have each other’s backs. ✦ Too Close to Call by Dragonbat, dick & jason & bruce, 5.8k     Summary: Things go horribly wrong when Robin thinks he can bring in Two-Face by himself. Now Nightwing’s life is on the line and one bad decision might spell disaster!
BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Won't You Stay A While? by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian & tim, 2.8k     Ric did not expect to find a child sitting on the hood of his cab. Damian did expect to get his brother back. ✦ The Universe Doesn’t Get to Take This by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian & bruce, 1.9k     “And they’re so important that you don’t come home to check on your recently un-amnesiac brother? And here, I thought I was your favorite.” ✦ Just a Little TLC by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian, 1.7k     Dick was not sick. Really. He was fine. Fine!
BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ The Long Way Home by itsnatalie, jason & tim & bruce & dick & damian & cast, 111.6k     With Jason tentatively back in the Batfamily, things are going pretty well for him--except for the whole thing with Tim. But who gives a shit about Tim Drake? But when Jason and Tim are pulled into a frightening race for their lives inside a labyrinth that's out to kill them, they may have to look past their differences just to stay alive. Maybe along the way, they'll discover they aren't as different as they thought, and family comes in many different forms. ✦ IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio, jason & cass & barbara & bruce & steph & tim & damian & roy & dick, 8.5k     A Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle: The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. ✦ Real Housewives (sort of) of Gotham by brandywine421, dick & selina & bruce & damian & jason & roy & talia & dinah & harley/ivy & helena & cast, no powers au, 5.9k     Selina is curious to a fault but she has a twinge of concern at her almost-stepson's name popping up on her personal line. They were allies and frenemies, depending on who was Brucie's favorite pet at the moment but he usually texts birthday wishes and xoxo's instead of actual voice contact. "Is everyone okay?" ✦ War! by Smitty, dick & barbara & tim & cast, 1.9k     What 'entertainment' was Nightwing talking about in Nightwing #44? Innuendo. ✦ Nowhere Safer by lurkinglurkerwholurks, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 9.6k     What's a Robin to do when the nightmares don't stop? ✦ Love like Cats by Laroyena, alfred & bruce & dick & jason & julia & cast, 20.7k     “This takes crazy cat people to a whole new level,” his old friend told him. “So this old family your dad took care of, they left their fortune to a cat.” Alfred Pennyworth, ex-special agent of the British Secret Intelligence Service, moves to America to become a butler. A cat butler. ✦ Minimum Height Requirement by Drag0nst0rm, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph, 66.4k     Somewhere in the multiverse, there's a universe where letting his children dress up in capes and follow him into vigilantism seems like a good idea. Bruce is determined that it isn't going to be this one . . . Despite his children's repeated attempts to convince him otherwise. (Or: "When you're eighteen, you can do what you want. Until then, no capes.")
✦ Family Crisis by librarylexicon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & leslie & cast, 85.8k     At the close of the gang war, Batman uncovers an attempted deception concerning the life of his former protégé Stephanie Brown, and suddenly nothing is as important as his family. While Dick seeks absolution, Tim struggles with grief, Cassandra searches for belonging and Steph rebuilds her sense of self, Bruce faces the return of ghosts from his own past and psyche. (War Games AU) ✦ grasp of ice by Kieron_ODuibhir, tim & damian, 6k     “Drake.” The hand in his was cold. Not because it belonged to a corpse, but because the night was cold. Cold and bright and pitiless, fresh snow glittering perfect under the waning gibbous moon like diamond sand. “Drake. Stay awake.” Drake, because he was insane, smiled before he said, “I don’t want your pity, Robin.” ✦ The Salem Protocol by Dragonbat, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & jim & cast, 47.4k     An AU version of Batman, RIP. When the GCPD makes a surprising arrest, Gordon knows he needs to call in support. Contains MASSIVE spoilers for Batman #678.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Hide and Seek by WordsAblaze, dick & tim, 1.1k     day twenty five, where a mission leaves dick and tim playing a not-so-fun version of hide and seek... ✦ To be a good brother by andthentheyweretwo, dick & tim (&tim/kon), 7.7k     It’s not always easy to be a good brother. Sometimes, it’s downright hard. ✦ Think Happy Thoughts by fanfictiongreenirises, dick & tim & bruce, 2.3k     Dick's vitals keep crashing if his thoughts turn downwards. Tim tries to help. ✦ Hisstamine by coyote_nebula, dick & tim, 2.7k     Dick gets bitten by a venomous snake. Tim pretends to know exactly what to do. ✦ Words That Must Be Said by Dragonbat, dick & tim, 1.4k     Tim needs Dick's advice when his long-lost uncle turns up.
BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK/BABS FOREVER AND YOU CAN SHUT IT IF YOU DISAGREE, THEY'RE ADORABLE TOGETHER: ✦ I'll crawl home (to her) by dizarys, dick & babs, ~1k     She needed to focus. She was Oracle and Oracle couldn’t falter or be distracted by personal feelings, not when multiple lives depended on her coordinating teams across the city, the country, the globe. There was no time to worry about Nightwing or his radio silence. Too much going on to pester him. He got out, said he wasn’t majorly wounded, and she needed to trust him. After all he was Nightwing. Vigilante since he was ten. Dick didn’t need her worrying in his ear while trying to stay alive. They needed to be professional because anything else could end in death. ✦ to my word now I'll be true by theragingstorm, dick/ babs, NSFW, 4.7k     A chance night becomes something more. ✦ Scar Tissue by Smitty, dick/babs, 2k     Some scars heal more easily than others. ✦ Time Enough by Smitty, dick/babs, 1k     Barbara asked him for time.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ What a Hunk (Of Rock) by AelinSardothian, tim/kon & cast, 4.4k     Tim is pulling another all-nighter when an injured Kryptonian lands on his balcony, leaking blood and affection. ✦ Obligatory Nap Time by egg_thief, tim/kon, 2.6k     Tim hasn’t been sleeping lately. Kon’s determined to at least get him to take a nap ✦ GUY.exe by thebodydies, tim/kon, NSFW, 4.6k     “If you tell me what you want,” Conner said, “I’ll do the rest.”
BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ threadbare by inconstant_moon, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & donna & cast, read the tags, 53.8k wip     That's the thing. Dick looked right at the kid, broken hand and all, and nearly let him in. He nearly let him train. Because after all these years, he didn't process anything wrong with the image before him. (Dick, Bruce, and the implications of raising a partner instead of a child.) ✦ Kindness isn't Free by minnow_doodle_doo, bruce & dick & alfred, no powers au, 6.7k     “You need to love humanity unconditionally or else the world will beat you into the ground and you won’t be able to get back up again.” He said into Dick’s hand like a prayer. “And you can’t kill what you love and survive.” ✦ Home Assignment by librarylexicon, dick & bruce & tim & babs (some dick/babs), 6.8k     Blüdhaven police officer Dick Grayson is suffering the tail end of a nasty cough when he's summoned to work a stakeout as Nightwing with Batman and Robin in Gotham. As the night wears on, his worst fears are realised when three urgent pleas for help pull him in separate directions, forcing him to choose between members of his own family in a way that feels suspiciously intentional. ✦ How Sharp The Pieces Were (You Crumbled Into) by WinterSky101, dick & tim & damian & cass & bruce & alfred & steph & duke & cast, 14.9k wip     Dick is back, but scars like his don't heal easily, even with a new healing factor. (Thirteen stories of Dick and his family in the year after his return to Gotham.) ✦ Pain o' Chocolate by Anonymous, bruce & dick, 1k     Dick is in a coma.
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vanteguccir · 1 year ago
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤATELOPHOBIA * MATT STURNIOLO
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SUMMARY :: where Y/N has suffered with an eating disorder for years, but lately, - because of some "fans" and social media - her insecurities have been taking her to a more than dangerous path, which she couldn't get out without help.
FEATURING Matt Sturniolo x reader REQUESTED? no.
WARNINGS :: anorex!a, eating disorder, comparison, self sabotage, self hatred, panic attack, pure angst... PLEASE read with caution!
AUTHOR'S NOTE :: that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Atelophobia; the fear of not being good enough.
This was one of the millions of fears and problems that haunted Y/N's mind. Her head convinced her a long time ago that she simply wasn't enough; for her school teachers, for her classmates, for her friends, for her parents, past boyfriends... not even for herself.
This led her to listen to what others said and thought about herself since she was very young, the desire to be perfect and within society's standards in all aspects of a human being consumed her; personality, thoughts, knowledge... body.
She was told all the time how she should behave, act, and be. She was just a child, but that didn't seem to matter to those who did it, clogging her up with responsibilities and comparisons.
One thing led to another. Her desperation to be the best at everything started to include her own body. "Fat" was the first word people used to describe her. She had no control over the situations around her, but she had control over her weight.
Y/N was always the biggest girl in her class, and her classmates seemed to love reminding her of that; often being excluded from work groups, forgotten in groups of friends, or not chosen in any team during Physical Education classes.
Until the year when everything changed. During the school vacation, she decided to change, intending to return to school as a new girl. The new cycle started well, Y/N saw a nutritionist, cutting out all fatty foods from her routine and consuming only healthy ones. She started going to the gym daily, doing the recommended training time. All of this led her to lose a significant amount of weight.
Soon, the vacation was over, and with that, the negative comments from her classmates were replaced by positive comments. Girls asking what she had done to lose weight like that, searching for advice and seeing her as a miracle. Boys saying how changed and prettier she looked.
How could she not fall in love with her own illness?
So, that made her feel good. Too good... her mind began to yearn to become thinner, more beautiful, just to hear more from others. And then the healthy diet and the one hour training at the gym were no longer enough for her. She needed more if she wanted to be better.
Y/N then intensified her training, staying at the gym for 2 hours per day, doing more reps with more weight. She crossed out several foods from the list of permitted that her nutritionist had made, choosing for herself the ones she thought were ideal, until it had almost nothing left.
Her brain self-sabotaged so that she wouldn't go out with her friends, because they would definitely want to eat somewhere and she wouldn't be able to.
She no longer participated in family dinners, creating excuses so as not to be forced to sit at the table and eat.
Her mind convinced her that she wasn't thin enough to satisfy her boyfriends' sexual and non-sexual desires, which made her pull away during or at the beginning of any relationship she had until the guy got tired, or she simply ended it.
She spent hours on the internet, searching for sensational diets that reduced daily calories to 500 or less, promising extraordinary weight loss. In addition to getting on the scale at least 4 times a day, hoping for a miracle every time she looked at the numbers.
Y/N replaced her eating schedules with random hobbies like drawing, learning a new instrument, or picking flowers from her garden to make flower crowns, occupying her time and mind.
Some things scared her, her period hadn't come in months, clumps of hair fell out every time she ran her hands through it. Her vision went dark at least 3 times a day. Her body shivered from the complete cold of her insides, and her stomach hurt more than usual.
But she had to suffer them alone since she had no one to talk to about, always alone.
Until Y/N met Matt.
Matt was the boy who made her want to get better. He encouraged her to look for a hospital that fit her preferences, where Y/N finally began to receive psychiatric and psychological care.
Her diet changed for the better, into foods that Y/N saw as safe. She did not abandon the gym but reduced the weight and time, maintaining her training just for the health of her muscles, as she had lost a lot of lean mass during her worst moment.
The calculator in her head finally stopped. Her eyes started seeing food as just food and not as the enemy. Her stomach craved for all the snacks she loved, and she finally ate them, without feeling guilty.
Matt was so thoughtful about her entire situation, having suffered himself with extreme anxiety from a young age. He could tell he understood in parts what it was like to live with a mental illness.
So he helped her maintain her healthy diet and eat all her daily meals within her limit - often opting to eat together in their room, since he knew the trepidation Y/N still felt about doing it in front of other people.
Matt praised her in every possible situation, trying not to be extreme but to show his intense love and support for the girl. All of that was helping her a lot.
Until it wasn't.
Y/N and Matt never hid their relationship from the public, the girl knew how famous her boyfriend was and how difficult it could be to keep their relationship hidden, they would be seen together at one time or another.
So it wasn't surprising that the girl appeared in some of the triplets' pictures sometimes, and that's what happened that Friday.
As usual, Nick posted a photo dump on the triplets Instagram to promote the publication of their new car video, and one of the photos was of Matt and Y/N, specifically one in which the two were sitting on the couch in their living room, the girl had her legs draped over Matt's thighs, while his tattooed arm wrapped tightly around her waist, huge smiles decorating their faces.
It was a cute photo, but apparently, that wasn't what fans thought.
While Matt and his brothers were in the kitchen, preparing healthy snacks - a habit they built through the girl, but which in the end helped everyone -, Y/N was lying on her bed in the room she shared with Matt, wrapped in too-warm covers, holding her phone with her right hand while her left hand wrapped around her stomach in an almost painful grip.
Her thumb scrolled through the comments screen beneath the post. Almost everyone there talking about her picture with Matt.
"Matt can do so much better than her"
"I really don't know what he saw in her"
"She's going to end up crushing him like that"
"I'll pay for the gym for her if that's the price for Matt to have a worthy girlfriend"
And so on, it was as if they knew all of Y/N's weaknesses.
Some fans of them could be cruel when they wanted to, and Y/N knew this by heart since seeing Nick crying several times because he was body shamed, or when she noticed Chris being quieter than usual after reading comments saying how loud he was and how that was unbearable.
Her heart was crushed every time she saw Matt suffer in silence until he couldn't hold it in any longer and finally cried in her lap for hours after reading people saying how insignificant and quiet he was in the videos.
Even though a huge mass of the fandom loved them with all their hearts and took care of them as much as the distance of a phone screen allowed, it still wasn't enough to swallow the hate comments.
But when it came to Y/N, more than half of the fandom turned against her. Maybe out of envy, but it was obvious that the girl didn't see it that way. She was convinced that they were right.
Her heart tightened as if someone was crushing it with their bare hands. The air seemed to escape her lungs, and the lunch she ate hours before seemed to want to go up her throat. Her fingers trembled as she held her stomach, feeling everything she had and didn't have there. Her eyes began to water, her lips quivering from the tears that wanted to escape.
Y/N quickly moved her finger to the back button, hoping to break out of the horrible cycle she was about to enter. A loud sob escaped her lips when, upon finally leaving the post, her feed reloaded, and a picture of a model that Y/N followed and admired appeared.
Comparison was her biggest enemy.
Negative thoughts about herself began to pollute her mind, everything around her becoming a fog. The sounds coming from the kitchen became muffled to her ears. Y/N's right hand - which was holding her phone - was gripping the device in such a way that her fingers turned white. Painful sobs escaped her mouth as her eyes remained fixed on the woman's perfect figure.
Why can't I be like her?
The longing for the sensations she felt when she starved hit her chest hard. The desire to want to be as thin as before - or more - filled her.
It didn't take long, and soon, the bedroom door was slowly opened, Matt's silhouette appearing behind it. His face was lit up with a smile - probably because of some joke his brothers made - while his right hand held a plate with two sandwiches.
His cheerful expression was replaced by a frown of concern. Matt quickly closed the door with his feet, walking towards the bed, haphazardly placing the plate on the nearest bedside table before sitting down on the mattress.
His hands flew to Y/N's waist, stopping over her own hand that was squeezing her skin with a force that was sure to leave it bruised.
The girl seemed to wake up from her trance, lifting her head and meeting Matt's calming - but worried - gaze. She cried harder as she imagined what her boyfriend would be thinking of her now.
Automatically, her mind started to play her current state, messy hair, swollen and red face, skin wet with tears, eyes half closed and mouth open, allowing sobs to escape from there.
"M-Matt-" Her sentence was cut off by a sob, her eyes closing tightly.
Matt took a deep breath, trying to process what to do next. His left hand - the one that didn't cover hers - slowly took the phone, taking it out of his girl's death grip. He glanced briefly at the screen, automatically understanding what was happening before locking it and putting the device aside.
He moved his body so that it was closer to hers, resting his hand on her spine and guiding her until she laid her head on his chest, caressing the area below his fingers.
Matt felt his heart break with every tremble that rocked the body beneath his caused by the sobs. If he could take that pain away from his girlfriend, he would.
"It's okay, baby, let it out. I'm right here." He cooed, his fingers caressed the tangled strands of her hair lightly, stroking the area while moving his upper body back and forth, slowly calming his girlfriend.
"Ma-Matty-" Y/N's voice was weak, wobbly from the pain in her heart.
Matt removed his hand from hers for a few seconds, stretching it to the bedside table - where the plate was -, taking the bottle of water that Y/N always filled before going to sleep. He opened the lid in one quick movement, bringing it close to his girl's face.
"Come on, my love. Sit down for a moment and take a sip of water. Please." The boy asked in a soft voice, helping Y/N straighten her posture before bringing the bottle closer to her lips, helping her take a few small sips of the contents.
He closed the bottle after making sure she was satisfied, placing it on the mattress before turning his attention to Y/N again. He brushed away the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear.
"What if they're right?" She asked in a whisper, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying.
"No, they aren't." Matt's tone was convincing, as if he was absolutely sure of what he was saying. "You are not worse than others because of your weight. You look great as you are. Your body is perfect, do you know why? Because he's healthy enough to carry you around and take care of you." The boy held her hands lightly, stroking the back of her fingers gently as he looked into her eyes. "The recovery journey is not easy, I remember the words your psychologist said to me when we had that session together. I imagine your head when you see clothes getting tighter, and these comments certainly make you want to give up, I know you, baby."
He paused momentarily, watching her reactions carefully.
Y/N knew that, recovery was hard work. Not wanting to die was hard work.
"Recovery is not a race. You don't have to feel guilty about taking less or more time than you originally thought or having relapses from time to time. This is part of the process, and I want you to understand this. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life. When I look at the most beautiful things, I remember you. In the pink tulips of the flower shop across the street, in the Cassiopeia constellation, in the bees that fly in our garden and in the greenest tree I have ever seen." Y/N let out a tearful laugh when she heard him mention the tree, knowing his immense love for nature. "Because you're pretty like them."
"I-I'm sorry." The girl whispered, sniffling then lowering her gaze in shame. "I... I saw the photos that Nick posted, and there were comments..." She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly.
"Oh baby." He leaned slightly over Y/N, sealing his lips over her warm forehead. "If you want to apologize, let me do it. If you went through this now, it was because of me."
"No, Matt. It was never and will never be your fault." Y/N shook her head, wiping her eyes momentarily with the sleeve of her - his - hoodie, sniffling slightly before taking one of Matt's hands, intertwining their fingers. "You don't control people, much less through the internet. They will always talk a lot because they are behind a screen that protects them, but that will never be your fault. I would rather go through this a thousand times and have you with me than never have you again."
"I understand." He paused momentarily. "Please, don't let it get to that point again while you're alone. If you see something that upsets you or makes you feel bad, turn it off instantly and call me. I want to be there to help you. I want to be there for you." The brunette asked, staring at her eyes.
Y/N sighed, nodding her head and leaning slightly closer to him, resting her forehead on Matt's shoulder, exhaling the softening scent and perfume that exuded from the fabric of the hoddie on his body.
Her eyes burned from the tears she shed, closing them tightly to prevent more from falling, her heart still feeling sore from everything.
"If you want, we can contact that psychologist again, the one who helped you throughout the process at the hospital." Matt lowered his head, bringing his face closer to the back of Y/N's head, pressing his lips against his girl's hair, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth of her body close to his. "I want to attend some sessions just like we did last time, so I understand how I can help you this time."
Y/N felt her heart warm instantly, her free hand snaking to Matt's thigh closest to her, stroking the covered skin lightly.
"Okay."
Matt loved Y/N more than he loved himself, and he would make sure that she understood that she wasn't alone anymore.
© vanteguccir
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