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psychedelic-ink · 3 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ⸻ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟

genre: enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni

word count: 3.7k

chapter summary: hanging garlands around town goes horribly wrong when you decide to decorate one of the polls. luckily a stranger with a rather soothing voice talks you through it and helps you down. But much to your surprise, he doesn't seem to be a stranger at all but rather a reminder of the past you've been trying to escape from.

warnings: age gap, canon typical violence, reader having a fear minor fear of heights, some threats, a brief make-out scene at the end, drinking

**dividers by @saradika

Jackson is everything you never expected in such a cruel world.

It’s been only a week since your arrival, yet you already feel fully incorporated into the community. Tommy and Maria Miller had surprisingly taken a liking to you. Later on, you learned that, especially Maria, wasn’t that keen on newcomers. If you had to guess why she decided to take you in, it would be the fact that you were half-dead and a mile away from their doorstep. It was cold, very cold. You still remembered how the wind sliced against your cheeks. When you came to, you met Tommy Miller. His smile was genuine and vaguely familiar for a reason you couldn’t quite understand. He had shown you around, then led you to your new home.

A home. Something you’d thought wasn’t possible anymore.

Something that you would protect to keep, no matter what.

It was a bit rundown, but solid nonetheless, like most of the survivors. Despite being only one person, the home they provided had three rooms and two bathrooms. You felt spoiled. You’d told Tommy about it, he had just laughed it off saying that after everything you’ve been through you deserve a decent roof over your head.

The words had stung at the time. He didn’t know who you were or what you’ve done. Jackson was a small community so you knew that Tommy Miller had been somewhat involved with the Fireflies but not like you. Never like you.

You feel slightly nauseous thinking about it. Snow crunches loudly under your boots as you make your way to Tommy’s. It’s lonely not being able to talk, not being able to say what you’re thinking freely. Most of the time it just feels like you’re looking through the other side of the glass, never truly comfortable around people that you frequently conversed with.

Standing in front of the door you take a deep breath, your skin tickles as your lungs expand with crisp cold air and you smile faintly upon the exhale. It’s hard, but you shouldn’t be complaining. You don’t have to fight to stay alive anymore. You don’t have cuts and bruises, you’re not a soldier anymore—you’re free.

Your mind drifts off only for a second, to that day when you made your escape. You would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for the man who spared you. His vacant gaze is still vivid in your head, waking you from sleep from time to time.

You follow your first knock with a second one. Heavy footsteps reach your ears and the door opens with a loud creak. Tommy’s eyes shine bright as he sees you, a half smile tugging at his mouth. If you had to call someone a friend it would certainly be him.

“Hey there Pecan,” he says. “Ready for some decoratin’?”

“Can I get out of it if I say no?”

He scoffs, “Don’t be a baby. It’ll be fun.”

“How is labor fun?”

You grin broadly and upon seeing it Tommy rolls his eyes. Stepping forward, he closes the door behind him. “You’re the goddamn second person to tell me that, you know.”

“Who beat me to it?”

“My pain in the ass brother.”

The two of you walk to the back to get the garlands. Everyone in Jackson had pitched in to make them, including you. “I keep forgetting you have a brother. Why haven’t I seen him yet? Does he hate you or something?”

“I’d say the opposite,” he huffs, opening the door of the garage. It’s full of boxes with “Christmas” written in bold letters. Luckily you don’t have to deal with those today. Only the garlands. “He’s like a mother hen. Too overbearin’. His name’s Joel and if you decide on gettin’ a tree you’ll see his ugly mug.”

You doubt that anyone related to Tommy would be ugly but you decide to keep that to yourself. “Why is that?”

“Maria appointed him as Christmas tree farmer. You can imagine his joy upon hearin’ that.”

“All by himself?” you ask a bit surprised.

“Nah. He has a couple of helpers but they work in shifts, everyone is pitching in chopping down the trees and getting them where they need to go. You’re free to help him out if you’re so worried.”

“I’m not,” you say a bit too quickly when seeing Tommy’s grin. “It just felt a bit unfair for an old man.”

“He might be old but he’s a fuckin’ beast,” he answers, leaning down and picking up one of the boxes. You follow, you take two since garlands aren’t exactly heavy. “I’ve never seen anyone as resilient as him. Honestly, it scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

“You can say that about a lot of people here.”

“You’ll understand what I mean when you meet him.” He heads out the garage and so do you, both of you leaving deep footprints on the snow as you head to the heart of the community. “And do please call him old man in person. I wanna see the look on his face.”

“I’m not going to sacrifice my well-being so you can laugh at your brother, Tommy.”

“You disappoint me, Pecan.”

Damn, Tommy Miller and his stupid stupid garlands.

You have no idea how long it’s been since you started hanging them all around town. You and Tommy had split up, deciding that it would be faster. At the time it made perfect logical sense but now, as your heart rams into your chest while decorating one of the polls, you decide it was a stupid ass idea.

You’re not exactly scared of heights but you’re not a fan of them either. Every time the ladder creaks, you have a miniature heart attack. You’d feel much safer if Tommy were holding the legs, even though you know it wouldn’t help much if the damn thing collapsed. You hear the faint chatter coming from below. Some people staring as you wrap the stubborn garlands around the cylinder wood. You hate this. Hate it, hate it, hate it.

When you’re finally done and about to climb back down, you can’t move.

“Fuck,” you hiss loudly, knowing that no one can hear you. You glance down—big mistake. Your entire body freezes over, your fingers tight around the poll. You have half the mind to hug the damn thing. Your throat tightens and you look up. This is it, after everything you’ve been through, you’re going to fucking die while hanging fucking garlands—

A strong gust of wind blows, swaying the ladder side to side, a sharp scream rips from your throat, and this time you do hug the pole. You notice a small crowd gathering. Another blow of wind and the unstable surface ceases to exist, you barely manage to bring your legs around the poll.

Screams and shouts that don’t belong to you reach your ears and you hope no one got hit by the ladder. Oh god. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, sweat beading from every pore despite the cold.

“Slide down!” you hear someone shout. A man, you register. A man with a deliciously raspy and deep voice. “Just slide down damn it!”

“No!” you shout back. “It took me hours wrapping the damn garlands I’m not doing it again!”

A weak excuse but still valid nonetheless. If you slide down all that work it rook the town to make these things would get destroyed thanks to your body. And even if it doesn’t, the damn things would slide down with you. There’s no way you’re climbing back up here. At least not until hell freezes over.

“You’re gonna fall and the ladder is busted,” the man shouts back. “And from the quiverin’ of your legs, I don’t think you’ll last until Greg brings the other one!” You hug the poll tighter, he was right, your legs—especially your thighs—were about to give out. And as if he can read your mind, the voice shouts out once more. “I’ll hang the damn things myself and fix’em up, just slide your ass down before your legs fuckin’ give out!”

You’re starting to get a bit lightheaded. Adrenaline and fear make your breathing uneven and quick. The disembodied voice is right. If you don’t slide down now your body is just going to give up and you are going to crack your head against the ground. A sharp exhale parting your lips, you finally start sliding down. You loosen your limbs, groaning every time you feel the needles of the garland ripping away and presumably falling above the snow. Fuck. You hope the stranger is good with his hands.

“That’s it, atta girl,” you hear him say, ignoring the way your body slightly clenches at the praise. “Just go down, I’m right here.”

More voices start to reach your ear the more you go down. You hear the voice of a girl, “I would’ve died if that happened to me. Holy shit.”

The man grunts, “Now’s not the time, Ellie. Keep your opinions to yourself.”

By the time you reach the end, your breathing is ragged and you can barely feel your legs. The man who’s been talking you through it holds you gingerly from the waist and pulls you away from the poll. Your feet skip over each other and you end up tripping backwards, right into the stranger's chest. You feel the warmth of his breath tickling the back of your head as you both end up falling. His body breaks your fall, his large hands still holding you from the waist. A pleasant shudder runs up your spine and you find yourself relaxing.

The crowd inches closer, a worried clammer coming from all directions. However, all you can focus on is the girl standing right across from you. She’s wearing a thick coat, her hair in a neat ponytail. She’s giving you a curious look, she also looks amused.

Your brows furrow, the brown of her eyes familiar.

“You plannin’ on gettin’ off me sweetheart?”

You push yourself up, realizing you're still sprawled on top of the stranger. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you scramble to stand, muttering apologies. He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that sends a shiver through you.

"Easy there, no harm done," he says, getting up as well. The crowd disperses now that the crisis is averted, leaving you alone with the man and the girl, who's still watching you with that curious expression. “You a’right? That was quite a journey down.”

“I’m. . .” You turn towards him, still feeling disoriented, still feeling a bit shaky. You’re about to tell him you’re alright, and possibly thank him right after, but the words die in your throat. You hear the loud beat of your heart. Thud thud thud. The world is turning, spinning. You open and close your mouth, over and over again. His eyes meet yours. The same brown eyes you’ve seen in countless sleepless nights.

You don't forget the face of the person who determines your fate.

And in his case, you don’t forget the face of the person who spared you.

Recognition slowly flickers across his weathered features. It’s so subtle. His lips part ever so slightly, eyes in the midst of going wide but keeping his eyelids neutral. He blinks heavily and snaps his lips tightly shut. You do the same. Your mouth now a thin line as you take each other in.

Then you see the recognition, the surprise, turn into anger. You’re a brutal reminder of his past and what he’s done to get here.

“Joel,” the girl hisses, nudging him with an elbow. “Don’t be an asshole.”

You blink, eyes snapping to the girl. . . Ellie. . . the immune girl.

Despite her harsh warning, neither of you speak. You are eyeing each other like wild animals wanting to protect their territories. Your legs are still shaking, your body trembling. He looks different but at the same time not at all. There’s no blood on him, no weapons. And the vacant look you’ve grown accustomed to is now full of emotion.

No one notices Tommy until he’s standing next to Ellie, his chest heaves as he tries to gather his breath. His gaze fixed on you, “You a’right there pecan?”

You freeze once more. The familiarity you’ve always felt around him—

“He’s your brother,” you state. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as he nods. You feel sick.

“I’ve heard what happened are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” You’re not. Joel is still staring at you, taking in every detail. You take hold of yourself and force some emotion other than fear to flicker across your face. “I’m fine thanks to your brother, the ladder collapsed and I had to slide down,” you turn to Joel, ignoring the taste of blood in your mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The playful lilt in his tone was completely gone. Ellie jumps forward, quickly taking your hand, everyone except you misses the way Joel flinches, jerking forward. “I’m Ellie and this caveman here is Joel.”

You clear your throat, “Nice to meet you Ellie and. . . “ You meet his gaze once again and say carefully. “Joel.”

He doesn’t say a word as you introduce yourself. Thankfully Tommy whistles and all eyes turn towards the ruined garland and the pine needles scattered above the snow. “Fuck. It’s gonna take days to fix this.”

“We still have time don’t we Uncle Tommy?” Ellie asks. “Joel offered to help fix it and hang it.”

Tommy’s head snaps towards Joel, a lopsided smile stretching across his lips as he shoots him an amused look, “Did he now?”

Ellie’s look matches her uncle’s, “He did.”

“Well then,” Tommy says, slapping his brother’s back. Joel glares at him, his brows knitted tightly together. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

“We should go,” Joel says suddenly, grabbing Ellie’s arm and dragging her away. Both you and Tommy are left dumbfounded as you watch Ellie furiously waving.

“Nice meetin’ you pecan!”

“Good,” Tommy grins, prompting your sharp glare. “The nickname is catching on.”

Alcohol buzzes in your system, making you grin like a fool as you lean back against the makeshift bar, enjoying the sight of everyone dancing and laughing. After a boring meeting of who would be doing what during the Christmas season, everyone had rushed out to get the bonfire ready. Faint music hummed in the background. Festive songs you’ve hadn’t heard since you were a little girl. You only recognize the melodies since you were a kid when you last heard them, the lyrics you can’t quite remember.

You watch Tommy and Maria from the corner of your eyes, he had his arms wrapped snugly around her waist. They were happy. Deep inside you can’t help but be envious. You hadn’t met a lot of people since coming here, it was hard to make friends when you felt undeserving of the comfort you received.

Your skin tingles as you remember Joel’s hands firm against your waist. You’ve felt something before recognizing him. Something sweet and playful. But it was ripped away thanks to your intertwined past. He was death. You can’t forget that. You wonder if Ellie knew what he’d done for her, you wonder if Tommy knew.

Shaking your head you take another swig of your drink. All these thoughts were sobering you up. You can’t have that. You need to relax, to forget. But despite knowing that, a nasty feeling of worry brews in your gut. What if Joel tells them? What if he makes the case that you’re dangerous and did unspeakable things for the cause? Will Tommy and Maria throw you out then—or worse—kill you? Joel is Tommy’s brother after all. . . you. . . you are nothing.

There’s a flicker of movement and a ripple amongst the crowd, lifting your head you see Joel giving Tommy a quick hug. He says something to Maria, a greeting you assume, and you notice Ellie heading off with Dina. Your heart skips a beat. You should go home, or at least stop staring at the man but you can’t. He’s the one you’ve been thinking about ever since you left the damn hospital. It was his eyes you’ve seen the nights you were jolted awake from the horrors the world had to offer.

You can’t decide on what to do and because of that, you’re suddenly facing an icy cold gaze from him. His lips are downturned, shoulders raised. You think about smiling, maybe raising your drink but you decide it would only add fuel to the fire.

A minute passes, a minute that feels like an hour, and he finally rips his gaze off of you, turning to Tommy instead. He squeezes his younger brother’s shoulder and quickly disappears.

You feel an unwarranted rage at him leaving. Running away. And suddenly you’re on your feet, following him. You can see his footsteps in the snow. You’re not sure what you’re going to say to him but you have to say something. This is your home now too and he won’t be taking that away from you. You’re not leaving after finding some semblance of peace.

You follow the footprints to a narrow space between two buildings. You notice moss in the cracks of the wood. You frown. Where the hell is he? There isn’t any place else to go from here, it’s a dead end.

You turn on your heel, only to come to an immediate stop.

His expression is dark, a harsh sneer on his face that makes you stop. You remember the stories, the ones about the things he’d done to survive. You swallow thickly and take a step back, but he reaches out and shoves against the wall. You gasp as Joel’s arm presses against your throat, your back hitting the wall with a painful thud.

"You’ve got some nerve, showin’ your face around here," he growls, pressing you harder against the wall. You can feel his warm breath against your face, his forearms causing you to struggle for air. But you refuse to back down, refusing to let him intimidate you. You stare right back into his angry eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“Nothing,” you hiss. “I just wanted to talk to you, clear the air.”

“Clear the air of what?” he leans closer, your nose almost brushing. “You’ll leave right now.”

“No I fucking won’t,” you snap and claw at his arm. It’s getting harder to breathe. “Jackson’s my home too.”

His eyes narrow and he presses forward, fully cutting the airflow. There’s a vicious throbbing in the back of your eyes and tears gather in the corners. “I should’ve fuckin’ killed you when I had the chance,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You don’t know what to do, you can barely speak, only whimpers leaving your parted lips. You attempt to kick at his legs but he simply moves out of the way.

How can this be the same man who held you so gently before?

“Take this as a warnin’,” Joel loosens his grip, your lungs filling with delicious oxygen. “If I see you anywhere near Ellie—”

“Oi Miller, what the fuck are you doing?”

You should be relieved. You really fucking should. But seeing the panic flaring in his eyes, a similar emotion starts coursing through your veins. You both tense and you feel your skin growing taut over your body. Your eyes shift between him and the two friends standing. You recognize them, one of them is Marc, and the other Steven. Twins. Your eyes move gradually back to Joel, he meets your gaze, your eyes drop to his lips, a plan forming in your head—an ill-advised plan, but a plan nonetheless.

You kiss him.

You fucking kiss him.

The arm on your throat immediately drops and you fist the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until he’s flushed against you. His body feels solid against your own. Strong and tall. He hesitates, his lips still as stone. Not knowing what else to do to make it more convincing, you tilt your head, lick the seam of his lips, and moan absurdly into his closed mouth. Joel starts moving then. His hands trail down the sides of your body and grip your hips, squeezing as he moves his mouth.

Everything about the moment lingers. The kiss, the closeness, everything. His hands twitch and you find yourself rolling your body towards him, feeling the semi-bulge underneath his pants. When a second moan escapes you it’s not for show. Heat licks the base of your spine, your entire being screaming for him to come closer and closer and closer—

He stops. It’s sudden and cold. However, you take the hint and with a lazy smile turn to the men watching you with dropped jaws. Joel doesn’t bother to look in their direction, he’s still holding you, allowing you to use his shoulder somewhere to lean against. His grip on you is tight.

“Sorry guys,” you make an effort to slur your speech. “I might’ve had too much to drink and couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Love it when a man is a bit rough.”

You don’t know why but his grip on you instantly loosens. Both Steven and Marc look at you with utter shock.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Marc blurts out. “Get a room you two. There are families out.”

With that they both leave, grumbling to themselves something about young people you can’t quite catch.

When both of you are sure no one is near, Joel shoves you off of him. “What the hell was that?”

“A kiss.”

“Don’t fuckin’ pull that shit with me, people are gonna talk. They’re gonna think I can’t keep it in my pants.”

“Better than them thinking you were gonna kill me,” you say. “You should be thanking me for saving your ass,” you answer, trying very hard not to look down at the front of his pants. “Don’t worry so much nothing is going to happen. They’ll talk a day or two and then it’ll just blow over.”

He doesn’t seem that convinced, “Fine,” he grunts and you start to take your leave. Your mind is swirling with unidentifiable emotions. You need time to think. “I was serious, stay away from Ellie.”

As if you were the dangerous one here.

“Joel,” you turn to face him one last time for the night. Not prepared to see how his eyes were glossed over, the anger and hatred drained from them. He looks startled. “I’m not leaving my home.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction

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ohimsummer · 4 months

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✎ . . .❝ WHO DID IT? ❞

—poly!satosugu xmas shenanigans, satosugu x reader, justice for satoru he just wanted to make candy canes !

The day was going well. Splendid, even. It’s almost Christmas, and the chilly weather makes sure to remind you, flakes of snow peppering the ground and crunching beneath your boots. You’ve completed the task of some nice, last minute shopping for your husbands’ students, picking up some coffee orders, not forgetting a few of Gojo’s favorite desserts from that same coffee shop, and then you were back home in no time. Walking inside, you’re engulfed with a feeling of warmth and coziness, the smell of sugar with a hint of peppermint permeating in the air. Your call of ‘I’m back!’ suspiciously goes unanswered, but you assume your husbands are either distracted or out of earshot.

The honeyed scent of sugar grows stronger as you enter the kitchen, setting bags of gifts and groceries on the floors and countertops. Speaking of countertops…your brows knit, mouth agape in absolute shock as you really take in the center of what was once gorgeous marble. You hear Gojo’s boisterous laughter in the living room, Geto’s faint conversation underneath, and make a beeline straight for them. Upon your arrival, Geto spots you first, and the wide-eyed glance he shares between you and Gojo is very telling.

It’s a simple question.“Who did it?”

And yet getting an answer, at least from one of them, is like pulling teeth.

Satoru halts mid-sentence, turning to beam innocently at you, ignoring the bitter look in your eyes, out for blood. If Suguru’s simmering glare at his idiot counterpart is any indication, then you’ve already gotten your answer.

Said idiot is so good at playing dumb, as if something like this isn’t obviously his doing. “What’s wrong, baby?”

A small breath of exasperation leaves Geto as he takes in the interaction. He thinks Gojo is really in for it this time, he can tell by your body language alone that you’ve got some choice words for this man. Maybe you’ll actually kill him this time. Geto chuckles a good riddance, so low even he can barely hear it. Can’t afford to show too much amusement, lest he get caught in the whirlwind of your fury.

Your foot taps, impatient. Brand new countertops. Not even a month old, they told you to consider them as part of an “extra early Christmas gift”. Ruined with large, faded, circular marks right in the center, on display, and faintly reeking of peppermint.

Suguru grows hot as your furious gaze shifts to him, finger with a mind of its own as it points to Gojo. “He wanted to make candy ca–“

“What the hell, I thought we had an agreement?”

“I’m not taking the fall for this with you over that dumbass idea.”

“Dumbass? You were on board when I suggested it!”

“And that was my mistake for assuming you’d done more than five minutes of research and knew what you were doing.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get in the spirit of Christm– ow!”

The sharp pinch on his ear leaves Satoru yelping like a hurt dog, stumbling along as you drag him into the kitchen, and Geto takes extreme joy in the small snippets of Gojo’s excuses as he fails to plead his case.

“Baby, my extremely beautiful, lovely, gorgeous wife, I just miscalculated a little, a tiny mist–“

“Mistake?” With your incredulous tone, one can only imagine the look on your face right now. “Look what you did to the countertop, Satoru, don’t come in my damn kitchen tryna be a professional chef or candy maker or whatever!”

A groan. “Technically,” and Suguru cringes immediately, head sinking back on the couch. “It’s all of our kitchen.”

The immediate silence afterward is heavy enough to weigh down a bear. Followed shortly by Satoru’s meek “Ya know what, you’re so right, baby. Your kitchen.”

#poly satosugu #poly! satosugu #geto x reader #suguru x reader #gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader drabble #jjk imagine

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amysnotdeadyet · 6 months

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Good Steve

Another! And then I have to go cook dinner. Stupid reality.

My darling @newtypeshadow asked for a somewhat complicated Steddie from Stranger Things plot, so she gets 555 words.

If there was one thing Eddie Munson was known for — besides shredding on the guitar — it was being protective of his boyfriend. Corroded Coffin were big enough that when they got outed the subsequent dip in record sales didn't tank their careers.

The metal scene was all about people living their lives outside of social conventions, after all.

Eddie did a cover of Judas Priest's "Breaking the Law" to open every concert that tour. Steve came along the way he always did. Instead of hanging with the other WAGs, he wore a staff shirt and assisted everywhere backstage. He'd learned a ton of useful skills in his years touring with them, and was always happy to help.

It took new guys some time to figure that out, though.

"Why the fuck is he here?" asked the guy who would be known as Bad Steve for the duration of his employment. He was a lighting expert of some renown, but he'd been caught in traffic on the way to the gig, so Steve had started setup while they waited.

"You're late," said Nate through the headset.

Steve emerged from beneath the boards already talking. "They need to solder #17, it's just not connecting." He turned to Bad Steve with a charming, boyish grin. "Oh, hey! I'm Steve, happy to lend a hand."

"You're Munson's boytoy." Bad Steve, unfortunately, had not muted his headset.

A dark 'ooooh' went through the line from several sources.

Steve's expression shuttered. "Check it or don't, but don't blame me if it goes out. Chart's over there."

Eddie came crashing into the booth, looking like a hot mess. "Stevie, baby, I need your touch."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You need me to do your eyeliner again because you smudged it already."

"Yep," said Eddie. "Oh, and Bad Steve, do consider who might be listening, hm?"

Steve let Eddie put his hands in the back pocket of his admittedly small jeans shorts, not even bothering to glance back to where Bad Steve was fuming.

A few hours later, when #17 had been soldered and the show was underway, Bad Steve got to see why Eddie's Steve was the favorite.

A nazi punk managed to get onstage while security was breaking up a fight elsewhere, and Steve flew out of wings with fire in his eyes to tackle the guy before he got past the monitors. Long legs pinned the guy's back to the floor, and he palmed the guy's head like a basketball, leaning in to say something there was no mic to pick up.

The guy tried to get up and got his face slammed into the stage for his trouble, Steve clearly in control even when the punk tried to swipe with a switchblade. The knife clattered away as Steve brought his own arm down on the guy's hand, smashing it into the monitor with a crunching sound and the screech of feedback.

The rest of security finally arrived to confiscate the knife and the nazi. Steve let him up, holding his own hands out while they hauled him away.

At that point, no one could blame Eddie for the scorching kiss that followed.

"Well," said Eddie into the mic, once Steve was safely offstage. "That was fuckin' hot, right?"

The cheers that followed were almost as deafening as the music.

#steddie #stranger things #my fic #ficlet #steve learns to kick ass better as time goes on

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ajortga · 1 month

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belly the holland lop

pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader

summary: it was good tara wasn't home, you were able to bring him home and spend the rest of the day with him however much you wanted behind closed doors, maybe some kisses.

word count: 1.6k+

a/n: this contains big amount of angst. just warning yall. ( theres none just the fluffiest story you'll see today!)

You opened the keys to your apartment, carefully sneaking in as you peeked through the hallways.

Silent. Good. Tara’s not home.

You snuck him in, telling him to shush as you led him to your room. You didn’t want to get caught by Tara. You loved him too much.

You opened the door and closed it, making a sigh of relief as you relaxed, kissing his forehead.

“Okay, I don’t think Tara will find you, well she’s not home yet but as long as you stay!” You emphasize on the stay as you look at him. His eyes were just like hers, you melted, making random motions with your hands, “Then you will be safe.”

The small holland lop bunny looked at you, his nose wobbling as you kept kissing him.

(Did I get you?)

“Great!” You say, bending down and picking Belly up. Or maybe you should call him Mabel. Green Beans? You’ll decide on that later.

You carefully use your hand and use your right to lift his stomach and the other to his bottom, then you bring him to your chest. It makes a small squeak of happiness as you bring him to your bed and it does a binky, doing zoomies on your bed as you giggle.

“No stop that, I don’t want my duvets to get all ruffled, I ironed them just yesterday!”

Belly, or Green Beans or Mabel looks at you, his cute brown eyes looking at you as it makes a small stomp of protest, grunting.

“Hey don’t grunt at me little boy!”

He stomps again as you sigh, “Okay fine a little more zoomies.”

Belly bounces off the pillows and circles around the room once, twice, four times, six times! before jumping on your bed and landing on your lap.

“Adorable,” you mumble, feeding him a small sliced apple and strawberry.

“Spoiled baby,” you chide playfully, “You’re just like Toffee, you don’t like carrots and want the sweet stuff.”

Belly crunches on the strawberry, his mouth turning red as you laugh, kissing his forehead again. After eating he claws softly at your chest and you feel his wet mouth press into your neck, then your white shirt.

“Hey! You’re lucky this isn’t outside clothes. Or else I would’ve taken your strawberries away tomorrow.”

You hear the door click as your brain immediately goes haywire.

“Oh shit. Belly, where the hell do I hide you?” You whisper scream, hearing Tara call your name as you look around, carrying him as his front is pressed up to your front, sniffing your clothes. Belly could run anywhere and Tara could see him as soon as he did another zoomie. You regret giving him those fruits, he’s going to get fruit energy!

“Baby!” Tara giggles, but it is dying down as she hears your footsteps, “Where are you? What are you doing?”

“Just a minute of love! I’m.. Redecorating, and trying on new stuff you know? Yeah.” You run around your room.

You panic, every way was closed, your guitar was covering your closet, if you moved it that would take too long.

“I’m coming,” she hums.

“Oh fuck it.” You say, grabbing a hoodie and putting it on, then placing Belly in your chest as you carried him under your hoodie.

Tara bursts into your door to see you sweating, the duvets ruffled, and the closet slightly opened, your guitar covering it.

Her eyes meet your figure as they narrow.

“Y/N.”

You gulp, nervously, there was a baby holland lop green bean mabel belly rabbit in your hoodie right now, “Yeah?..”

Tara’s mind fills with thoughts. The ruffled duvets that were always neatly folded, now sliding off the bed and your ruffled hair and glistening figure. She didn’t know what else it could be. She somehow didn't even focus on the way you looked pregnant with Belly on your belly. (see what I did there?)

She looked at you as she immediately saw a lipstick mark on your chest and red stains on your neck.

You look at her, she looked upset, almost angry, but she wanted to find out. She never gets mad at you.

“Tell me the truth,” she states, looking at your figure up and down as you look at her, what the hell was she going to say when she saw Belly? You felt him shift in your hoodie.

“Are you cheating on me?” She whispers, tears filling her eyes.

You looked at her with a, “what the hell?” look as you rushed up to her, still carrying Belly.

“Baby- of course I’m not!”

“You had a girl in here. Or a boy, I can see that lipstick stain on your damn oversized shirt that I gave you! Did you seriously fuck?”

Her eyes were wild as you looked down at your chest and immediately got where she got the assumption from. Before you could explain, Belly sniffles your chest and pops out of your hoodie head hole, making the room go quiet. Belly licks your neck and laps up the strawberry juice that he pressed with his lips a few minutes prior.

You squealed, his fluffy fur tickled you as you groaned in frustration, “I knew I should’ve cleaned that strawberry stain. You need to eat better! No licks after you eat juicy strawberries,” you scold at Belly, seeing how he was scratching his ear with his paw.

Tara immediately giggled, “Is that a bunny?” She laughs, sitting down next to you.

“Baby I thought you were cheating on me.”

You shook your head as soon as you heard her, “Baby I would never… Wait. Are you mad?”

“I was mad, I imagined you inviting someone over while I was gone, I would never think you would cheat on me but what I saw made me worried,” she says, her heart beating quickly from recovering from whatever she was worried about. “Oh my gosh you got a bunny! It’s so cute! I just want to squish it’s face and snuggle with it all night while we cuddle!”

You exhaled a sigh of relief as you immediately cuddled her, letting Belly nudge the bottom of his chin with your finger. You felt him licking it and nibbling it.

“Baby you scared me,” Tara laughed, picking up Belly and cradling him, he nudged his wet nose to her face, his still damp red mouth leaving a small strawberry stain on her face.

“Can we keep Belly? Please baby? Please please pleaseee?” You pout, Tara melted in your gaze. It wasn’t often you used your innocent, sparkly, drowning eyes. But when you did she would do anything.

“Belly?” Tara questioned, laughing, “You would choose that name.” She said, nuzzling your nose, “But you know I can’t say no. Just don’t let him pee or poop cocoa puffs on Sam. She’ll get angry and cook him for dinner,” she paused, seeing your horrified face. “I’m just joking sweetheart, she’ll probably stop giving him treats but then will give it to him less than 30 minutes later because look how cute he is!” She says, rubbing its soft fur. “He’s just as cute as Toffee. You really like holland loppies huh?”

“I LOVE holland loppies!” You say, kissing her neck and hearing her make a soft pleasured noise.

“I know you do, where did you find him?”

“I went to my friend's house today and she recently had a bunny, Mochi, give birth to holland lops! They were all so cute. But I liked Belly. He wouldn’t stop licking my hand and relaxing next to me. He was so cute! I love his brown fur!!”

She kisses you to shut you up in the nicest way possible, “If you think we can take care of him together, we can okay baby?”

“Okay,” you murmur against her chest. “We need a letter box, then a water bowl, some pellets, I think I have most of those at my parents house because of Toffee.” You say, you and Tara looking at Belly do binkies around the room.

An hour later you and Tara crouch down to Belly and pick him up, as Tara lifts her knees up and down and rocking Belly. You gave him a wide space to roam and every day you would let him roam around your house. Obviously you put some cages around cables and put away pillows. There were some water bowls, a bowl with bunny pellets, and some hay toys.

As Tara carried Belly, you wrapped a small hat you found at the store around his head and secured it around his neck, letting it be loose so it wouldn’t fall off but he could breathe well.

Belly’s nose twitched, a cute strawberry mushroom hat on him as his downward ears were being rubbed by you.

You and Tara giggled, taking pictures and selfies with Belly. After a while you’re cuddled up with Tara, nose buried into her chest.

“Maybe one day we can start a family,” you whisper, looking hopeful

“In the future baby, I promise. We’ll have as many puppies and children as you want,” she comforts.

“I love you.”

…

“I love you too.”

You snuggle as Belly does binkies and zoomies before resting beside you, with his little fluffy bed next to yours.

bonus: A few hours later, the door clicks.

“Tara, Y/N, sweethearts I’m home,” Sam’s voice echoes through the hallway, her hand full with two baby bunnies.

She enters your shared room to see you and Tara asleep on each other. And.. Another bunny?

“You have to be kidding me.” Sam says, looking shocked from how you now have 3 bunnies, a holland lop, netherland dwarf, and a lionhead now.

Her shock immediately melts, now you three have a household of 6. They are cute. Maybe she can handle 3. Sam walks closer to drape a blanket over you two and pets Belly before stepping away.

She opens the door and as soon as she does, she steps in a cocoa puff of poops, making her groan in disgust as she bounces with the other leg to grab a towel.

"Ew. No treats for you," she says, angrily, "Yuck."

A few minutes later she sneaks a small slice of banana next to Belly as he eats it, licking her finger.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna ortega

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mountainsandmayhem · 27 days

Text

Happy Easter, Joel Miller

18+

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel’s secret sweet tooth inspires a little Easter surprise.

CW: 18+, MDNI. Food play. Praise. Oral (f! Receiving), Established relationship.

AN: this is absolutely not edited or proof read. Just enjoy it, ok! Haha.

Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but Joel Miller LOVES chocolate. He has secret stashes of chocolate hidden around the house and in his work truck.

Easter brings his favourite chocolates - mini eggs. The candy coating crunches and then you get to that delicious milk chocolate middle.

“God damn, I love you.” He says to a handful of mini eggs the Saturday night of Easter weekend. And that’s enough to spark a surprise for tomorrow.

Sunday afternoon, Joel heads off to do his usual routine. He likes to wash his work truck and stop at the store for waters and Gatorade for his crew cooler. In the 40-ish minutes he’s gone you race to melt some chocolate and then make a trail of small foil wrapped eggs to the kitchen.

You strip down to just a pastel coloured thong and climb up onto the table. You place more eggs around you and then when you hear his truck pulling onto the driveway, you drizzle warm melted chocolate along your body.

A line up one thigh, a curved line from one hip to your ribs in the other side. Drips along the swell of your breasts. As he opens the door you lay back on the table and wait.

“I’m back, babe.” He calls as he toes off his boots. “Oh, chocolates!”

He sounds like a little kid and you giggle quietly at how fucking cute this broad and grumpy man can be sometimes.

“What’s going on here babe?”

You laugh and yell, “follow the trail. There’s a delicious surprise at the end.”

You hear him padding along the hardwood floor. Your body breaks out in goosebumps as you wait excitedly, chocolate covered nipples turning into stiff peaks. As he comes around the corner he sees you. His eyes go wide, mouth dropping before a devious grin crosses his face.

“Oh fuck. You look….fuck…” rendering him speechless is your favourite thing to do. You bite your bottom lip while smiling up at him from the table.

“Hungry?” You say mischievously.

Joel’s gaze goes from awe to pure lust as he stalks over to the table, planting his strong hands beside you and leaning his face close to the chocolate across your stomach.

He practically growls, “Fucking starving, babygirl,” before laying a long, warm lick across your stomach. He laps up all the chocolate, twirling his tongue and kissing until it’s clean. You’re writhing under him as he moves to the chocolate along your arm.

“Mmm, so sweet and soft.” He hums before moving to the melted deliciousness that’s coating your hard nipples.

“I think you’re enjoying yourself,” he says through kisses down your heaving chest.

“Please, Joel,” you moan, your hand going to rub your clit over your thong.

Joel grabs your wrist to stop you. “Not yet, baby. Gotta get you all clean first,” he sucks one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue to clean it. Your back arches, a sign that you want more. “You’re so amazing.”

Once it’s clean he rolls your wet nipple between his thumb and forefinger and moves his soft lips to your other nipple. He suckles on that one gently while pinching and pulling the other.

“Oh god, that feels so good, Joel.” That familiar fire starts in your belly and you start to wonder if you could cum from just him teasing your nipples.

He bites down gently, pinching the other with equal pressure and you cry out in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure. After letting go he peppers your breasts with feather light kisses.

“I need you, Joel. Please,” you whine, canting your hips towards the air.

He walks to the head of the table and sits in his chair. His voice comes out like dark molasses as he says, “Slide down to me, baby.”

You prop yourself onto your elbows and shimmy down the table to him. He sits back, eyes watching the wet spot that’s soaked through your light thong.

“She’s needy,” he says deeply.

You slid until your ass is right at the edge of the table, him between your legs. He has chocolate on his beard and corners of his lips and you fight the urge to lick it off.

“I’m going to clean off this thigh. And then slide that sexy little underwear to the slide and give your beautiful puffy pussy what she needs.”

You nod and chant ‘yes please’ like it’s a church prayer. He uses his teeth and tongue to clean your thigh and the second it’s clean he pulls your panties to the side roughly, you make eye contact for a brief second, his eyes practically obsidian with lust before he dives in.

Immediately sucking your needy clit into his mouth, the rough tip of his tongue flicking it passionately.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry.

He releases your soft skin with a pop. “Already?” He smirky cockily, three fingers now teasing your entrance.

“Please Joel.” Your voice is a needy whine as your body jerks and twitches under his attention.

“Ok, my love. Stay still for me. Let me get my fingers in,” his voice is calm and commanding. You slow your breathing and let your knees fall open further as he works his thick fingertips in. “That’s it. Good girl. Make room for me.”

“Oh shit. More. Please. More.” You close your eyes and get lost in him and the euphoric state he’s putting you in.

“There she goes,” he says as his fingers push all the way in. He curls them forward and you feel it immediately, your orgasm right on the edge. He sucks your sensitive bud back into his mouth and you’re done for. Pleasure ripples through you as he pumps his fingers and flicks at your clit.

Between licks he mumbles praise into the velvety skin of your pussy. “Good girl. So beautiful. That’s it.”

As you come down from your high he slides his fingers out of you and then stands up, lifting you into his arms and walking to the bedroom as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Happy Easter, Joel Miller,” you whisper into his neck.

==========================

Taglist:

@rainstorms-library @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @jessthebaker @pedroswife69 @javierpena-inatacvest @pedroshotwifey @mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @syd-djarin @untamedheart81

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hidtired · 16 days

Text

A Single Punch

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

The smallest action in a single moment can change everything.

Description: The line up ends with 3 supposed dead members of the group. Sometimes you have to know when to play dead. Even when all else goes to hell.

1.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, character death(s), very depressing, typical walking dead shenanigans)[happy ending… eventually]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Your POV

You would have gone after Daryl when he rushed out of Alexandria on a revenge mission. If not for the terrible rattle in your lungs. Every breath you took was heard. Sharp and painful. Denise the poor soul told you it sounded like walking pneumonia. Not necessarily deadly but hard to fix with limited resources.

So here you are sitting in your bathroom on the floor with the shower as hot as it could get to open your lungs. Trying desperately not to think about Daryl being reckless and doing only god knew what. A light knocking on the door shaking you from your thoughts.

“Come in.”

The door opened hastily releasing most of the steam out the door. Rick walking in past you to turn the shower off. Rick looked down at you offering a hand up. “We are heading off to hilltop. Something is wrong with Maggie and the baby. I would like for you to get checked out by the doctor there to.” Slowly getting up nodding your head. No use arguing with him when he was probably right.

While walking to the RV you looked to Rick calmly, “Thank you Rick, for being my family.” Rick looked to you with a raised brow and smirk. ‘Your loopy from sickness and meds he thought.’ He helped you in the RV to the back with a struggling Maggie. Maggie took notice on your tired state with pale skin as you did her. Rick putting a hand to Maggie’s shoulder,

“We are leaving in a minute, everything is going to be ok.”

The ride was going smoothly until the RV stopped. You exchanged a glance with Maggie, “Let’s hope we aren’t dead in the water like with Dales RV, really don’t feel like walking.” This made Maggie smile a little thinking about Dale all that time ago. Successfully distracting her for a moment.

This smooth ride turned to a nightmare with saviors popping up over and over again. Leading to you having to walk in the beginning of dusk. Maggie being carried. The whistling stirred your already hard breathing. The headlights causing your head to spin and struggle with balance. You felt like death. You felt warm and cold- a fever you thought. You were dazed but still had the right wits about you to know you were in danger. You felt a tapping on your leg, looking to see Carl on his knees. Catching the hint you followed suit. You couldn’t be bothered and sat on the back of your legs.

“Y/n…”

That what caught you out of your stupor. His voice. Daryl’s voice. You look up to see him. Pale and cover in his own blood. Tears now rimmed at your eyes. The RV door opened to reveal a man with a bat. “Pissing are pants yet?” You looked back to Daryl staring at him from across the line of your family. The slight sound of the whistle of your breathe could be heard. You were hazy struggling to comprehend the conversation going on. The man Negan you think, was walking and had stop in front of you yapping on and on about something like “was I dying of the plague” and “look like shit my dear.” He waved his hand in front of me.

“She doesn’t have a clue what’s going on does she.” Negan huffed.

Negan was walking between everyone reciting Eenie, Meenie Miny, Moe. ‘He was choosing which one of you to kill.’ You thought. He stopped in front of Abraham. Your breathing was turning faster from fear, there for making it harder for you to breath. “If any body moves-“ your ears are ringing. The first crunch of the bat to his head made you gasp then cough.

“Suck my nuts.”

Your ears ring in your brain watching blow after blow to Abraham. Negan flinging his blood in every direction. Your breathing hard, tears burning in your eyes. You reach a hand to curl to the back of your head. The other hand curling into a ball at your chest. Your clucking the hair so hard in your grip you might pull a chunk. You simply couldn’t inhale.

Negan turns to Rick then brought his eyes to you. “Well shit, looks like are little plague here bout dead.” Daryl watch’s as you try and take a breathe in, tears streaming down his face. You look worse than you did this morning. “I’m a merciful man!” Negan proclaimed, sauntering over to you. “Let me help sweetheart…” You just begin to look up at him catching a glimpse of the bat swing down to you. A crushing pain radiates through you head as you come crashing to the floor. But not just your head but hand as well.

“NOOO!” Daryl speeding toward Negan rocking him with a punch. Daryl getting easily pinned. He sobbed looking at your still body.

You were in pain and frozen like a deer in head lights. Your vision blur and the feeling of blood flowing from somewhere. The hit knocked some air into you and you tried you best to calm it. It was sallow but there. Your vision started to tunnel, blackness taking you into unconsciousness hearing sounds of the sobs of your family.

Daryl POV

In a single moment you were gone. They drag me back to my spot in line but I could only look to her still body. What was the last thing she had even said to me. This asshole killed you and he was blabbing on. He stepped out of line and was going to be joining you, he accepted that. The burning hate looking into Negans eyes. Negan only smiled, “That little plague was yours huh.” He chuckled to himself. “You should be thanking me, poor thing was dying, it was a mercy kill.” He back up a little.

“I don’t know what kind of lying asshole you’ve been dealing with but, I did say you only get one! No expectations.”

Daryl clenched his teeth, he expected his fate and accepted at least your body’s were to be buried together. “Welp, back to it!” But Negan pivoted and hit… Glenn. Sinking he felt like he was sinking. His mouth wide with shock. Glenn started stammering, Negan taunting him. “M-Maggie I’ll f-find you.” Negan winding up to hit him again. Daryl listened to Maggie’s pleas just like how his were he assumed. Hit after hit felt deeper like they should have been the one to be on him. Silents for a moment with Negan catching his breathe from exertion. This didn’t feel real. He had to be dreaming.

“Load him up.” He was being dragged away. He had little fight left in him but he fought against it. Hearing the people around him plea. He looked on to where you lay. His world, was gone and yet he still walked among it. His action then got someone’s else’s world killed. Guilt ate at him. Doors slammed in front of his face back to the darkness he once came, but now pieces missing inside him.

Rick POV

It was silent after the saviors left. Sun rising. Everyone trying to comprehend everything. Rick thought when he was being dragged to the RV with Negan that he was next. His anger at the time was now just fear. It was Maggie first to move toward her dead husband. They all scrambled to help her. She sobbed and still despite it all was still in need of a doctor.

Rick kneel next to her above Glenn. “Let us help please, he was are family to.” She agreed and stumbled into a hug with Carl. Rick looking down toward Glenn, his savior, this man was the reason he was alive and found his family. Rick gasped at the thought, ‘Thank you Rick, for being my family.’ He looked back to you, your body less maimed than the rest. You were here because Rick made you go. Hilltop, Maggie. He turned back to Maggie, “We still need to get you to Hilltop.” he looked to her with a little resolve.

Maggie clearly distraught, “I’ll get there myself, you were out here for me. I can’t let anything else happen. I just can’t.” Before he could even begin to disagree, Sasha spoke up. “I’ll take her. You need to get back to Alexandria.” Maggie agreed adding, “Y-you need to figure out to take them out.” Rick looked at her slowly shaking his head. “They have Daryl.” Rick said, and at mention of Daryl’s name the turned to your body.

Rick bit his lips trying to not break. Everyone started to move to put the bodys in the back of the truck that Sasha and Maggie were taking to Hilltop. Your body being the last, Aaron picking you up in one swoop as everyone help to lay you down into the bed of the truck between Glenn and Abraham. More tears were shed.

Before splitting into different cars, Rick goes to Maggie hugging her before she gets in the passenger seat. The rest follow to say there goodbyes for now and hope for the baby to be well.

Looking into the side mirror he look back to seeing puddles of blood and a walker kneeling down to it. Looking forward to not break from the sight and think about those he lost he make eye contact with Michonne. Then he started to drive.

??? POV

Sasha was driving to Hilltop periodically looking towards Maggie. Her mission. Maggie had tears from pain a lost going down her face. The silence was cut with a slap to the back window of the truck. A bloody hand smearing down the glass. The girls turn to each other. You must have turned, head not completely crushed like the others. Maggie sniffled, “Pull over, I don’t want her eating them.”

They both circled the back to put you down. Hearing the grumbling noise coming from you. The tailgate fell with a loud bang. Sasha climbing up knife in hand. When they heard it.

“I can’t, please it hurts.” Slurred and rough. You were alive.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open! Also little disclaimer I’m really dyslexic so any help with grammar or spelling would be great!

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #norman reedus #rick grimes #angst #happy ending

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 8 months

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 3 - Goosebumps | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: You perform your first match with Aemond, and things are beginning to heat up in the figure skating business | Word Count: 6.8k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: sexual tension, masturbation (f), reader having racy thoughts but nothing crazy, mentions of medical treatment for trigeminal neuralgia, mentions of an open relationship

A/N: shoutout to @asumofwords for giving me inspo for the 'stretch'. Also we love a slow-burn enemies to lovers moment, but we're heating up! 🔥

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

“Again”

You were covered in sweat, visible in the black tank top you were wearing and by the harsh lights that illuminated the ice rink. Your chest heaved noticeably as you placed your hands on your hips, the remaining momentum having you glide across the ice as you looked at Aemond, who stood tall, arms crossed and looking as stern as the day you met him.

In the weeks training with him everyday, you’d managed to at least try to be civil (save for a few choice words over dinner which had either of you leave the table instantly. One time you both tried to leave at the same time, and had a staredown, which delighted Aegon immensely). Aemond had not changed his attitude, neither had you.

Nor had Aemond apologised for what he’d said. And so much time had passed now, you were unsure if he ever would.

Anytime you would both pass one another in the hallway, every shared look at the dinner table felt like striking a match and depending on the day, it would catch and spread, and erupt into a fully blown argument. A clashing of personalities that were perhaps too close to one another to truly get on.

You straighten up, sucking in a breath, “Aemond, it’s late”

He checked his watch, the look on his face confirming that it was indeed late but that he didn’t care. He shrugged, “Again”

With a sigh, you get back into position, trying to ignore the way he so blatantly stares and picks apart quite literally everything you do. Even if he is right sometimes, it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

You can feel every muscle begin to ache from the everyday rigorous training you’ve been doing, and icing your muscles in between is helping but not entirely. Every night, you sleep like a freaking baby, since it takes all your brain capacity to tiptoe around Aemond wherever you go. You appreciate it’s his home and he can be wherever he wants in it at any given time, but not being on good terms is starting to drain the very energy out of you.

For what feels like the thousandth time you build up some speed (wanting nothing more than to just push him over on those stupid skates he’s wearing) and jump into a spin, stretching your leg as far and as high as it will go without assisting it with your hand.

“No, no” Aemond says quickly, shaking his head and gliding over, making you stop.

He stops behind you again, his skates crunching to a halt.

“Don’t bend your knee” he comments, “did you stretch?”

You throw him a pointed look over your shoulder, “I always stretch”

Aemond hums, which is becoming increasingly annoying as the weeks go on.

You gasp in surprise when his hand reaches for your leg and lifts it, his hand encircling the legging-clad skin near your knee, grasping with minimal pressure. It momentarily tips you off balance, not having expected it, and his other hand goes back around your waist, palm flat on your middle between your ribs to keep you standing straight, as it had been the first day you practised together.

“Don’t bend your knee” he repeats, lifting your leg higher, tightening his other arm around you to keep you level and inadvertently tugging you closer to him, so much so you can feel his leg against your hip. “That’s it”

He lifts your leg so that it stands at a 45 degree angle, as straight as your leg will allow. But aside from the way your leg is stretched, your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. His fingers curl around the meat of your thigh, pressing lightly to keep you up.

He is so close to your back, that you’re sure you can feel the puffs of air out his nose as he breathes, making the hair around your face sway somewhat in your periphery. And more than anything, his other hand, firmly on your torso, presses in, drawing your bodies almost flush with your back against his hardened chest.

All this makes your skin go all warm, in spite of the harsh air conditioning, your chest entirely too tight and everything about what he’s doing, how close he is, how his stature looms behind, all serves to make you realise how small you feel in comparison. You swallow anxiously at the thought, hoping he doesn’t realise how your breathing is suddenly heavier.

Your leg firmly on the ice wobbles slightly off balance, and he moves his hand to your waist, squeezing tighter.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you” he says, hushed, probably the softest his voice has ever seemed.

You turn your face only slightly when he says that, not having to move much to look back at him behind you. Almost as soon as you do, Aemond lowers his face, his eye meeting yours.

He’s worn his hair down today, as he sometimes does, but several strands are tucked firmly behind his ear, swinging softly in the gentle breeze. It makes your skin tingle and goosebumps form on your arms.

His eye flits around your face, and you know he must be able to see the slight flush you feel in the centre of your features, spreading down your neck, all the way down to your belly. In the closeness of the gesture, he stands tall behind you, and you see his eye run over your tank top, from his angle the shadow of your cleavage just visible.

He looks back at you quickly again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, which have now stolen your attention. They stay parted, and he breathes ever so slightly heavier out his mouth.

It’s so miniscule, the gesture, that if you weren’t paying attention you’d miss it. But his hand slips from your mid-thigh just that little bit lower, and both of his hands squeeze tighter, until he skates backwards, gently letting you go. Something tugs about your core at the action. It felt so intimate. So sensu-

“Good, that’s good” he says weakly, clearing his throat.

You lower your leg almost as soon as he retreats, the place where he had touched burning significantly, feeling like you’d touched a hot kettle.

The session ends like this. Like there's something unspoken, and a hammering in your chest that won't cease as you walk up the cobbled path back to the house. Now that you're outside, you feel cold from having exerted with the soft sheen of sweat over your body. Aemond looks the same, his shirt sticking to the front of his chest and the hem around his biceps.

Aemond walked quickly ahead, helped by his long legs, but he was walking faster than usual, as if in a hurry to get back inside. He threw the glass doors open and rushed through the kitchen, not bothering even to say hello to Helaena who was leant by the counter, idly eating cereal.

Helaena looked at him and then at you as you stepped through the door, "What's wrong with him?" She asks, gesturing with her head. It was a common question since your arrival.

You can still feel the colour to your cheeks. But at least you could blame the fact that you were training just now. Even so, Helaena looked at you with a mischievously suspicious look.

You shrug, trying to be as convincing as possible, "Don't know. We just finished training"

Helaena raises an eyebrow, looking at the clock on the wall, "At 10:30 at night?"

"Yeah?"

Helaena smirks, as if she's not convinced.

"Sure"

You sigh, opening the fridge for a cold bottle of water, "Don't be like that, he hates me"

"He doesn't hate you" she insists, "He's just…antisocial"

You look at her sharply after a good sip, "That's neither true or an excuse"

Helaena bites her lip, desperate to say something, but she shakes her head and looks back at her bowl.

Sighing you check your phone, seeing an email from Hightower Management. It must have come in while you and Aemond were on the ice.

"What's this?" you ask, showing Helaena the screen.

"Oh, we've got a match in a few days. It decides who goes on the championship tour and Otto is just giving us the details. What to wear, which routine we'll do etc"

You scroll through the email absentmindedly, taking in the more important details, "I'm supposed to wear white?"

Helaena nods, "Aemond always wears black. Me and Aegon always wear variations of red"

You bite your lip, "I'll have to see if I have anything white"

"If you don't, we'll go shopping," she smiles.

"I can't afford that"

She furrows her brows, "Babes, Hightower Management will pay for it"

There's something about them paying for everything which, deep down, doesn't sit well with you. But you suppose, now that you're working for them, they really should pay. It just feels wrong. Especially after all those years where you had to make your costumes yourself, bent over the desk at ungodly hours only to be awake training the next morning.

You quickly bid Helaena goodnight, feeling the sudden hit of fatigue in your muscles as you drag your feet up the stairs.

You're barely on the landing as you hear Aegon murmuring lowly in the hallway, barely standing over the threshold of his bedroom. Aemond is leant against the doorway, one hand gripping the frame at the top, his lips pressed together as he chats with his brother lowly. So quietly in fact you can't tell what either of them are saying.

Hearing your footsteps approach your room, Aemond looks over, the conversation grinding to a halt when he sees you.

Warmth and embarrassment blooms across your skin, settling deep in your gut. He's clearly had a shower, as his hair is loose and damp around his shoulders, his skin ever so slightly flushed from the hot water.

As much as you don't want to admit it, you can't deny that you sneaked a peek at his grey sweatpants, hanging loosely on his hips, which you can only see since the black shirt he's wearing is riding up slightly with one hand on the doorframe, the grip now tightened somewhat.

Just like that everything is hot again and something akin to dull excitement settles between your legs.

Stop it.

You can remember his firm grasp on your thigh.

Stop it.

His eye flits over you again, jaw tensing noticeably. Your breathing noticeably heavier.

You gather your breath, willing the heat to disappear from your face and quickly retreat into your room, finding solace in the quiet, cool sensation of being away from Aemond, thoughts having a moment's reprieve.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

It surely can’t be the birth control. Your hormones have never been out of whack before? They had been on that pill, but that was ages ago...

So why does it feel like all of a sudden, you feel like you haven’t fucked anyone in a while? And why does it suddenly feel so urgent?

You try and think of the last time you slept with someone. Gods, it must have been several months ago with that guy from Highgarden, the one who came in about forty seconds and spent the rest of the evening crying.

It was unsatisfactory, yes, but you don’t have time to date! There’s no room for someone else in the busy schedule that is being a professional figure skater. None whatsoever.

You briefly think if you packed your vibrator with you and realised very quickly, that you didn’t even think about it when you moved out, thinking that you wouldn’t be gone long.

So once you’re showered, hair dried and laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the patterns of the ceiling-rose with the domed light sat ornamentally in the middle, your stomach still carries that warmth you felt earlier.

The way his grasp lowered on your thigh.

The way his hand squeezed your waist.

The way his words had been whispered softly into your ear, warming your neck.

You shake your head in frustration, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. What the hell is going on? He’s a twat! It is against every moral cell inside you to find this man even somewhat attractive, after the things he’s said to you, nevermind his terrible attitude on top of that.

But as you have thought before. He can be both a twat and attractive right?

This is how you rationalise it, as your hand slips beneath the hem of your underwear, bringing yourself that dull buzz of pleasure as your middle finger teases your bud, aided with the surprise that you’re already wet. Your head tips back against the pillows, pressing your lips together to keep your sounds low in your throat, the other hand dipping beneath the oversized sleeping shirt you were wearing to cup your breast.

Not at all imagining they were someone else’s.

No, that would be weird.

It happens faster than usual. Your finger speeds up over your bud, pressing lightly as your hips move with the rhythm only slightly, and your orgasm sneaks up on you quickly, rolling through your body so fast that a quiet whisper of moan manages to slip out. By the time your hand makes it up to your mouth to cover your lips, the muted high is beginning to dissipate into your limbs.

You pull your fingers back, feeling the tiredness lingering in your body now that your orgasm has subsided, and close your eyes to sleep, just hoping, praying, that whatever you were even thinking about that asshole, would disappear by morning.

It absolutely hadn’t disappeared.

That said, there was still a lingering annoyance in the way your partnership brewed in this murky state. Not speaking properly to one another, not even really looking at one another, and just marching through your training together, having to be the kind of intimate that is more indicative of lovers than business partners.

The match was taking place at Summerhall. A sort of halfway point for all the contenders of each region of Westeros, to come together and determine who most deserved to go on the tour of Westeros, competing for the championship title.

Your body was filled to the brim with nerves the entire journey there, your stomach doing flips with every speed bump the minivan struggled to overcome.

That morning, Aemond had been entirely irritable until he was summoned to a closed off portion of their family home, confined to a room for several hours. You sat in the doorway entirely confused, until Helaena had the heart to explain once Alicent was out of earshot.

"He's having his injections" she had said.

"His what?"

Trigeminal Neuralgia. It was explained as.

As a result of this accident, which you still knew nothing about, Aemond had suffered with severe facial pain as the damage had interfered with the nerve. As a result, he endured glycerol injections in the side of his face, which provided relief for a few months, even stretching to a year.

But when the pain flared, Helaena explained, he was impossible to be around.

Your heart aches with a kind of sympathy, knowing that Aemond has to deal with this pain and recurring painful injections to keep it at bay. And as he finally comes out, with a plaster taped to the side of his face, he at least looks a bit more relaxed.

Or as relaxed as Aemond can be.

It results in neither of you speaking the entire journey to Summerhall. He'd put in his airpods, blasted his music and fallen right to sleep, his head only moving when the minivan took a sharper turn than expected.

Part of you can't help but look at him when he was asleep, stealing glances where you otherwise wouldn't get away with. Admiring the sharp angles of his face, his aquiline-shaped nose and most notably, the sharpness and definition of his jaw and cheekbones.

It was a shame he was a dick.

Knock knock.

You shake yourself from the trance, looking up at yourself in the vanity when you hear someone behind the door of the changing room, their knock signalling their presence almost so soft you didn't hear it.

"Come in"

Alicent peeks round the door, smiling in a way only a mother does, her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, once she's closed the door.

"A bit nervous, but fine" you reply, trying to sound convincing. But it clearly doesn't land, as Alicent smiles softly, sitting down next to you.

"Come, let me put on your skates" she suggests softly.

In the end, you'd misread the email from Hightower Management that you should wear white. In fact it said would, and they provided you with an all white outfit, some of it decorated with rhinestones, and a flowy leotard, very much indicative of the usual sportswear. It looked more expensive than any outfit you'd worn, and it made you feel strange wearing it now.

Alicent tugs at your laces, tying them expertly like it was muscle memory, "You know it always makes me emotional. Watching Helaena skate" she muses, her attention on her task, "Reminds me of myself"

You swallow, unsure of what to say at first, "Helaena is a wonderful skater. You should be proud" you smile.

Alicent returns it, patting your skate-clad feet and plopping then on the floor, "And I am sure I will be very proud of you also, my darling"

Your heart squeezes. She says it with such sincerity and emotion, with not an ounce of patronisation behind it.

"You look beautiful" she praises, tucking a hair behind your ear. Your hair was half up and half down, with waves put into it (courtesy of Helaena, as you'd previously mentioned you had no idea what to do with it). And your makeup, as you've always done, is bright and non-descript. A 'barely-there' approach.

You smile in thanks, taking a calming breath as you follow Alicent out the dressing room, meeting the rest of the team on the benches near the rink.

All of the other competitors also wait by the side lines, talking to their coaches. A few you recognise based on their house colours, grey for the Starks, a brother and sister duo, Cregan and Sara. As well as gold and red for the Lannisters, Jason Lannister and his partner, Johanna (who he totally isn't cheating on).

More than anything, the one that pops out the most are the Dornish, with their dark hair contrasting with their bright yellow costumes. Qoren Martell, lovingly nicknamed 'The Scorpion' and his Dornish girlfriend Mara. They were known for being unbelievably cocky, and put on quite the suggestive shows with their moves out on the ice. For this reason, they always made it to championships, giving both of them alike a big head.

In the distance you can see Aemond, all dressed and ready entirely in black, including some brand new looking black skates. Unlike in training, he wears his hair down around his shoulders, looking somewhat mythical leaning against the wall, arms crossed and receiving a bit of a grilling from Otto.

"Miss! Miss! A word for the White Worm?"

"Is it true Hightower Management had you sign an NDA?"

"Could you tell us about your troubled childhood?"

A slew of reporters seem to block your path, each of them shoving whatever microphones or recorders they have in their hands right into your face. You're so taken aback, that you don't even have the brain capacity to say anything. Your mouth is just open, with only unintelligible sounds coming out.

Otto materialises, pushing several of the reporters away while Aemond wraps his fingers around your arm, gently tugging you away while they're dealt with.

"Ignore them" he says lowly.

You take yet another calming breath, suddenly hit with the sinking feeling that the arena is jam packed full of important people, and the judges are lined up at the front, looking stern as anything. It never fails to make you wince to see their expressions.

Your breath is almost taken away though when you look back at Aemond.

Where his glass eye would usually sit, nestled between the angry scar down his face, sits a sapphire, glimmering in the harsh lights of the hall. Your lips sit parted in utter fascination.

You shake your head when you realise you're staring, "Sorry, I-"

"It's fine" he replies quickly, "I wear it for competitions"

You nod, eyes flitting to both his good eye and the sapphire, as if transfixed, "It's…nice". You almost cringe at yourself for the way you've said it. But truthfully, it's so distractingly pretty, it's difficult to not be speechless.

He stands still for a long time, looking around awkwardly not knowing what to say, "Thanks"

The announcement over the speakers echoes that it's almost time for your performance, and you swear you feel cold all over. Your eyes scan the crowd, rubbing your hands together nervously, spotting Rhaenys at the very back with Rhaena. Upon spotting you they wave widely, and you return it with a grin, feeling your heart swell to see they've gone through the effort to come to see you.

Nerves eat at you, remembering the routine, the jumps, the landings. The incessant coaching of Otto doesn't go amiss either. You slip your blade guards off your skates, watching as several cameras pan around the rink, and the commentators up in the box talking into their microphones.

"This is the first match from famed Aemond Targaryen, aptly nicknamed 'The Ice Prince', since his former skating partner, Floris Baratheon, was injured significantly. His new partner has yet to perform in any championship deciding matches"

"Yes, an unconventional choice for the Targaryens, to have such a green skater to be paired with. Time will tell if she will crack under the pressure"

You're the first to skate out, doing a few laps to warm up and adjusting both your hair and your outfit, making sure your laces are tight and secure before Aemond also skates out, having had a few words with Otto.

Coming to a halt in the middle, you take another steadying breath, shaking the nerves from your arms, ankles crossed as Aemond stops behind you. The crowd goes quiet when you assume position, his hand splayed on your middle, with yours covering his, trying to ignore the way it stokes the fire within.

Mahler's Symphony, Adagietto begins to play. Part of you can't help but find it a boring choice, but now in front of everyone, the crowd as quiet as a whisper as you and Aemond begin the routine, it feels more magical.

With his hair down and the sapphire on show, he looks utterly majestic on the ice, donned entirely in black, contrasting starkly with your white outfit. You can't help but look over at him every now and then, enraptured by his appearance.

"Technically, wonderful performance so far. The couple seem distant though, which I wonder if it will tie into their performance"

The first several jumps and spins go perfectly well, by the book, landing with balance. All building up to the one jump that you can tell, everyone is holding their breath for. The jump you'd been practising with Aemond for the last few weeks, was now being watched and streamed for everyone to critique and see.

The throw triple lutz.

Your chest inflates, as you both skate backwards, Aemond's hands wrapping around your waist as he skates behind you.

"Will they land it?"

Aemond throws you in the air, twisting you slightly and aiding in your airborne triple spin. The crowd immediately erupts in applause and cheer when you land it, your foot stable, both you and Aemond skating and joining hands in the next move.

"They've done it!"

"She's mastered the landing"

"Wonderful performance technically"

You breathe out finally, relief and pride blooming in your chest as you complete the last few spins and moves with Aemond, who doesn't let a single thing show on his face. As stoic and stony as ever.

It isn't until the routine is over that you see Aemond breathe what could be a sigh of relief that it's over. He doesn't spare a look in your direction as you skate off, greeted instantly by an excited Alicent and Helaena, who are congratulating you in heightened vibrant voices. Aemond earns a pat on the back as he stalks off with Aegon, speaking lowly.

"That was amazing!" Helaena praises, looking the part herself in her red outfit, "such a good landing!"

"Thank you!" You respond, seeing both Aegon and Helaena taking off their blade guards for their turn, "Good luck" you smile at her, making your way over to the bench to get off your jelly-like legs.

Otto gives you a nod, showing his wordless appreciation. In that way, you suppose Aemond is a lot like him, using few words to convey what he thinks.

You sit beside Aemond at the side lines, watching the board and waiting anxiously before the scores come in. He sits still, only his left leg bouncing to show how he's feeling, his tongue poking his cheek.

Aemond murmurs something, so quiet that at first you don't even hear it.

"What?"

He turns his head slowly, his sapphire greeting you before his good eye does, stealing your breath for a moment.

"You were good" he repeats, clearer this time, "out there"

You bite your lip to hide your smile looking down into your lap, knowing it's hurting everything inside him to compliment one thing you've done.

He huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, turning away again, "Don't make me regret that"

You can feel the cameraman in your periphery move to angle in on both of your nervous faces as the scores come in.

With the exception of a few with some points knocked off, it's a clean score. The crowd erupts, and your heart hammers excitedly, the adrenaline making it feel like fire in your veins.

"A respectable score for her first pairs match. No doubt helped by her perfect landing of that triple lutz"

Alicent pulls you into a hug, offering her congratulations as you barely hear one another over the cheers. Your face burns from smiling so widely, relieved that you had done your bit and a damn good job of it as well. She moves on to hug her son, who offers a quick embrace, whispering something you don't hear to her.

"There she is. The Sweetheart of Oldtown offering her support to her son"

"The Targaryens make it to the championship tour yet again, Aemond Targaryen representing the Crownlands"

The last thing you see is Rhaenys and Rhaena in the crowd, clapping dramatically with wide, proud smiles. Your vision blurs with happiness for a moment, giving them a wide wave.

Turning to Aemond, you're not sure what to do to congratulate him. So you settle on offering your hand for him to shake. He eyes it for a moment, his brows pulled together, before shaking it, nodding in mutual thanks.

The camera doesn't miss it though.

Figure Skating is as much about performance, teamwork and performing for the cameras, aside from technical ability. You hate this fact more than anything. But every match, you're reminded it's true.

"Not a full house, but they have potential as a duo. No doubt points knocked off for performance"

"Let's hope the icy couple warm up once the championship tour rolls round"

Some of the nerves had begun to wear off by the time the after party rolled around. You bit your lip as you watched Helaena in the reflection, stood behind you and pulling the curling iron from your hair, making sure it was waved in the right direction.

She met your eyes in the mirror, smiling, the highlighter around her eyes twinkling, "Excited for tonight?" She asked, squirting some finishing oil into her hands and running it through your hair.

"For the free food? Yes" you smirk at her, "however, wearing heels, no"

When you arrived in the hotel after the match, the dress was already laid out with the heels and jewellery in a box on the bed, kindly paid for by Hightower Management once again, accompanied by a congratulatory note.

It was an all black outfit, a bit sexier than you otherwise would have picked, with a slit up one leg. But wearing something you wouldn't usually was kind of exciting and you touched the gold necklace around your neck, a simple chain with no pendant, and admired the neckline of the dress in the mirror.

"Done" Helaena chirped.

You stood, smoothing down the front of the dress, trying to get used to walking in the black heels, "How do I look?"

Helaena had helped to curl your hair at the back, fixing in place a gold hair accessory as she did so, "Gorgeous. Everyone won't be able to take their eyes off you"

Something flutters in your belly when she says that.

"Anyway, see you down there, I've got to go with Aegon" she smiles, slipping out the door in her fitted cream dress.

You look yourself up and down in the floor length mirror, fiddling with the ring on your pointer finger. Helaena had done a fantastic job with your hair, sitting in waves down your back. But you also couldn't help but feel weird wearing such a strappy dress, as it wasn't what you'd go for at all.

With a breath to psych yourself up, you swing open your door, going to step out, gasping back in surprise to find Aemond had his fist outstretched with the intention of knocking. Unlike you, he didn't move or say an inch, he just stares down, dressed in a black suit (this time with an off white shirt underneath), his sapphire still lodged in his left eye socket.

His eye briefly runs over you making your heart rattle faster, clearing his throat as he tucks his hand into a pocket, "Uh, Otto said I should come and collect you"

You swallow thickly, closing the door softly behind you, "Did he say we should go together?"

Aemond nods, rolling his eye somewhat as you make your way to the lift, pressing the button, "Everyone attends with their business partner" he says simply.

Oh, right. Just business partners.

The ride down the several floors is quiet, and feels longer than it actually is because of it. Aemond briefly adjusts his tie, trying to disguise the look he gives over the outfit you wear. Black to match him. Something flutters deep in your gut at the proximity, able to smell whatever aftershave he'd spritzed on himself as it clouds around your head, making your mind all foggy.

You both pause at the entrance to the event, absolutely heaving and bustling with the figure skaters, their managers, journalists and other important people, all dressed to the nines to impress. The classical music is barely audible over the chatter, laughter and clinking of glasses. The room has a smell about it, a sweet, saccharine floral scent flooding from the various expensive vases placed around. Lilies, you think. It's almost too overwhelming.

Suddenly, the slit in your dress makes you feel a tad self-conscious and you pick nervously at the fabric.

"Stop that" Aemond whispers, his fingers gently pulling your hand away, "Put on a brave face. It'll be over sooner"

Despite your skin burning where he'd touched, you nod once, taking a breath for courage.

Looking straight ahead, Aemond offers his arm, presumably to appear amicable. And you take it, barely putting pressure on the inside of his arm as you walk in together. Aemond keeps his steely stare, looking entirely uncomfortable in this environment.

The first people who approach you, arm in arm as you both are, are the Dornish couple, their dark hair curled and slick with gel. Qoren flashes a toothy grin at you, Mara on his arm looking somewhat doped out with her eyes hooded and kohl thick over her eyelids.

You surmise they must wear their rich yellow-orange colours all the time, judging by their outfits. And that the stereotype must be somewhat true, based on both of their plunging necklines.

"Here he is. The One-Eyed wonder!" He chirps. And you feel the way Aemond tenses up at the rude comment.

"Qoren" he greets flatly, biting his cheek.

Seemingly happy with his reaction, Qoren turns to you, "And who is this gorgeous flower?" He adds, hand outstretched for yours.

Politely, you offer your hand, introducing yourself and skin prickling when he kisses it for a little too long. Mara looks entirely indifferent, in fact she even has a smile on her face.

"So nice to see a fresh face in figure skating. I hope you are coping well with the Targaryens! Not everyone can handle their fire" Qoren muses.

What's that supposed to mean?

You're not quite sure what to say, so you settle for, "Thank you. Nice to meet you"

Otto appears suddenly on Aemond's left side, whispering something and easing him away. You feel somewhat apprehensive of being left alone when the two of them find a quiet corner to talk.

But when you look back at Qoren, your heart goes faster to find Mara on the other side of the room, chatting up Jason Lannister, which briefly makes your lips part in shock.

Qoren smirks, "Mara and I are open"

You shake your head quickly, "I didn't mean to stare I-"

He laughs, "It's alright. Really"

Luckily at that exact moment, a member of staff stops by your side and you quickly pull a flute of champagne off of it, sipping it slightly to take the edge off. You look at Aemond and Otto as you do. Aemond looks white as a sheet, staring at one corner of the room with a gaze that implies panic, with Otto still whispering in his ear.

When you follow their panicked looks, there's a woman standing alongside the strange brown-haired man from the schmoozing event, the one with the limp whose name you still don't remember. She is the epitome of beauty, with dark raven hair and blood red lips, her body filling out the emerald green dress with her hourglass physique and her neckline accentuating the fullness of her breasts.

"That's Alys Rivers" Qoren states, seeing your stare.

You look back at him quickly, cheeks burning from being caught looking, "Who?"

"Before our time. Retired figure skater. Represented the Riverlands"

"Retired?" You repeat, "she doesn't look very old"

Qoren scoffs, "She's older than she looks"

He points his pinky in her direction, leaning in to utter something quietly, "See that necklace?"

You follow his line of sight, eyes squinting in the low light. It’s true. A necklace hangs daintily in the middle of her chest, with a small pendant at the bottom.

"Sapphire" he tells you, "A gift from your One-Eyed partner"

What.

You look at Qoren, utterly dumbfounded. He just chuckles, seeing the supposed trouble he’s caused.

"Once upon a time" he says, gulping down the rest of his drink, "Not until mummy found out anyway"

You can't find it in yourself to reply. Too stunned into silence.

"Pretty thing like you shouldn't be stuck with him" now this does catch your attention, shocked at the blatancy of it, "If you ever find yourself bored of him. Mara and I are looking for someone else to sleep wi-"

"Oh no, no!" You reply quickly, forcing a laugh out, "No thank you, I uh - besides Aemond and I aren't -"

"There you are!" Helaena blurts loudly, coming to your aid, her eyes wide as if she knows exactly what she's breaking up.

She tugs you away before you have a chance to say anything, and you instantly feel relieved, "Thank you" you mouth.

She smirks, "It's alright, Aem shouldn't have left you alone with them hanging around"

You can't help but look back at the black-haired woman called Alys, now finding that Aemond has approached her. She leans close to him, speaking in a hushed and intimate manner, biting her ruby lips. Aemond on the other hand has his signature look, giving nothing away.

You want to ask.

You so want to ask.

"Do Alys and Aemond know each other?" You finally ask, giving in to curiosity.

Helaena snaps her head to you quickly, panicked almost.

"Qoren said something?" She asks, to which you nod, "They were together a few years ago, not for very long. That's probably all you should know"

Together…

The sapphire necklace.

It all makes sense. The urgency.

Otto was warning Aemond she was here.

Your lips part in wordless shock, "But…isn't she…"

"A fucking dinosaur? Yeah" Helaena says annoyed, sipping her own champagne and turning her back to them, "Disgusting is what she is" she mutters under her breath.

Dread descends on you, clouding the otherwise warm atmosphere of the after-party.

You look back. Aemond is watching Alys saunter away from the event hurriedly with a less-than-enthused look on her face. He looks visibly annoyed. Uncomfortable even.

It didn't look amicable.

So why would she wear the necklace?

Even when Alys has left, his jaw remains tense and you can't help but feel like he looks smaller, shrinking into himself with his shoulders rolled slightly forwards. His gaze briefly meets yours before you turn back, sensing you’d been caught, seeing how Helaena is also being tugged away by Aegon to chat with Cregan and Sara.

"You look nervous"

You jump out of your skin, almost dropping the flute as that Lars-Larry-whatever guy leans uncomfortably close, his eyes glinting with mischief as they roll over you.

Gods, this man is fucking creepy.

“You looked marvellous on the ice earlier” he praised, standing beside you, watching as you tapped your fingernails on the glass nervously, “Larys Strong. Skating Journalist” he introduced, allowing himself to briefly shake your hand.

You gave as polite a smile as you could muster, “Yes, I have seen you around” Lurking around, more like.

He hummed with a small wry smile, his blue eyes darting around the room, meeting Aemond’s, who was looking at them as if wondering what they were talking about.

“Are you enjoying your time with the Targaryens?” he asked in what seemed like an innocent way.

“Yes, thank you” you reply, clearing your throat, “they are very accommodating towards me”

Larys leant against the table to take the pressure off his leg, “It is a wonder…”

“What is?” you turn to him, confusion ebbing into your tone. He smiles, eyes looking elsewhere, apparently pleased that he’d managed to capture your curiosity.

“...it is a wonder why Hightower Management approached you, over say, an experienced Pairs skater.”

Your lips part. Where do men get this innate fucking audacity?

“...Jeyne Arryn. Maris Baratheon. Even Netta, of no notable house, would be good choices. Better even”

“If you have something to say to me, just say it” you reply, jaw tensed and eyes trained forward on him. Entirely sick of the patronising manner of speaking.

Larys meets your eyes, still smiling “I have some information that may be of use to you. Regarding your employment with Hightower Manage-”

“Excuse us”, Aemond’s tall form appears beside you, standing between yourself and Larys, whose face falls significantly into a stoic frown once he realises the conversation is over.

Your annoyance towards the so-called journalist is stunted somewhat by Aemond’s hand on the small of your back, pushing you away from the conversation, making colour bloom to your face and neck.

Even several paces away, his hand remains there, the contact making your skin erupt in goosebumps as it trails slightly higher up your spine. His body bends to whisper in your ear, “Stay away from him. He likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong”

Tell me about it.

“What did Qoren want with you” he asks, his voice low in a whisper, his hand moving to your arm to pull you along. There’s something angered about the way he asks it, his fingers somewhat digging into the meat of your flesh.

The warmth is tainted somewhat by all the frustration of feeling as if secrets are being kept from you as well as the flat, demanding manner of his voice.

You bristle away from him, the warmth of his hand disappearing, “I’m not your fucking girlfriend, Aemond. Stop treating me like one” you hiss, turning to look at him, “just business partners. Right?”

Aemond stands there, briefly confused. But the longer your eyes look at one another, the more his expression shifts into something that you’ve seen only a handful of times. Like that time he saw you training for the first time. And when he assisted your leg stretch only a few days ago.

He half blinks. Trying to hide the passing of his gaze over your form with it.

“You look nice”

Instead of feeling flattered, rage only floods through your veins. Who does he think you are? Some vain, empty-headed woman who can be so easily swayed with a compliment? Throwing yourself at his feet just because he said the most basic nice thing he could even muster?

“You fucking-”

Otto Hightower steps in, unapologetically breaking up whatever it was that was happening (but his face seemed like it couldn’t care less anyhow), hands behind his back, “There you both are”

You and Aemond hit pause on whatever argument was brewing.

“I’ve spoken with the staff. You shall both be on tour together in a week. Alone”

What.

Neither you or Aemond are capable of a cohesive reply, staring blankly at Otto, who just smiles, nods his head once and turns away.

Alone. On tour. With him?!

Fuck.

Taglist 1 (Bold means I could not tag!)

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yawntutsyip · 18 days

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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 ─ when you bake something for them and it turns out horrible. (yuji, megumi, gojo)

warnings: none that I know of // SHITTY WRITING

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈:

When Yuji got home he was greeted by the smell of…well something was cooking.

“Babe, I'm home!” He announces and walks to the kitchen after taking his shoes off to see you standing there with a proud smile on your face and a plate of cookies in front of you.

“I made cookies for you! Try some!”

“Wow! Thank you baby” Yuji says excitedly and gives you a peck on the cheek before grabbing a cookie and taking a big bite, all excitement washed away.

Yuji chews waiting for the delicious sweetness to hit but it never does, all he got was immediate salt so he slows down his chewing and looks back at you and begins to feel bad.

You looked so proud standing there waiting for him to finish, you worked hard making these for him, how could he break your little heart. He just couldn’t.

“Mmm!” Yuji hums out with a forced smile as he swallows the horrid food.

“I love my significant other I love my significant other I love my significant other I love my significant other-” he repeats in his head and goes in for another bite, hands shaking, taste buds screaming.

‘WHY WAS IT SPICY? AND SALTY?’

“These are so good-” He begins but his body betrays him and causes him to gag, nearly spitting it back up.

“Yu? Is everything alright?” You say worried as you watch your boyfriend fight against throwing up.

“Y..ye..yeah baby, totally great! These cookies! Hahahaha so….gag so good!”

Concern growing on you, you reach and grab one of the cookies to taste for yourself and ask the same question in your head.

‘WHERE DID THE SPICE AND SALT COME FROM?!’

Immediately you spit the food out in a napkin you quickly grab and shout at Yuji “SPIT IT OUT BABE!….DON’T KEEP EATING IT?!”

“No really babe it's not that bad!” He argues while trying to eat more but before he could you force it out of his mouth and quickly sweep all them away straight into the garbage and make him rinse his mouth in the sink.

“Why did you keep eating it?!?”

“You worked so hard..” He pouts at you.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈:

Megumi is a bit more straight forward than the others unfortunately.

You and Megumi were chilling at your house, he was working on some homework while you were jamming in the kitchen attempting to make a chocolate cake with the ingredients you had at your house, some ingredients missing but you didn’t care.

“GUMI BEAR!” You scream for him. “I told you not to call me that, it's embarrassing…” He grumbles and appears behind you in a second, looking over your shoulder at the supposed cake you made.

His face says it all, with his eyebrows furrowed with a sour look on his face. “I made a cake! I know it doesn’t look the prettiest…I forgot to let it cool off before I put the frosting on and it crumbled but I'm sure it tasted good…”

You grab some on a fork and place it in front of Megumi’s face so that he could taste it.

He shakes his head no at first but as you keep pestering him and he finally stops grumbling and takes the tiniest bite. “Yep it's good”

“You didn’t even eat it! You just tasted the fork! Come on, just try it”

With more groans and mumbles coming from him and more pestering coming from you, you finally get him to take a full bite of the cake you made.

You feed it to him and watch as he chews only once and quickly spits it out in an instant.

“That was disgusting.” He tells you but instantly regrets it as he watches the smile fall off your face and turn into a frown.

“...Sorry babe…”

After you taste it for yourself you agree that he was not exaggerating because you had the same reaction when you got a crunch in your bite that was not supposed to be there. “Oh yeah what was not good…”

Megumi pulls you into his embrace while giving a light peck to your temple. “How about we make another one but together?”

WHILE THE TWO OF YOU ARE MAKING IT: “hand me the sugar please” “…babe did you use this earlier?” “yeah why?” “this is salt. You used salt instead of sugar.”

“OHHHHHHH well they look similar you can’t blame me…” You shrug sheepishly and go to crack the eggs but Megumi stops you.

“How about…I do the eggs…you can stir it”

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎:

Gojo was finally done with the last minute mission that he got sent and was now on his way back to his lovely significant other who was waiting at his house so patiently.

“ANGEL CAKES I'M HOME~ did you miss me?” he screams as he walks in the front door expecting to be greeted immediately with you at the door but you aren't there.

With a big frown on his face he walks further in the house to which then he hears you calling him from the kitchen. “In here my love! I got a tasty surprise for you!”

Books it to the kitchen with a cheeky smile on his face, once he sees you he’s slightly disappointed the surprise wasn't you on the counter, but a plate of cookies instead, a man could dream.

“I made you cookies! Tadaaaaa!” You tell him while shoving the plate in front of him and greeting him with a kiss.

In your guy's relationship Gojo does the cooking and baking. From knowing you since you both were in diapers, he has had previous experiences with you and your cooking to know whatever you made was about to taste like an absolute abomination.

“NOW! Before you say anything, I know I’m not the best at cooking but this time I followed the recipe step by step! So they should taste good…how hard could making simple cookies be? Taste them!”

Gojo hesitates but seeing you look so proud of yourself made him let his guard down. “Alrighty, hand one over then lets see” He gives in and takes the cookie you handed him, taking a bite before the horrid familiar taste hits his tongue. He quickly makes a gesture that he needs something to drink with a smile and when you turn your back to him he quickly opens the garbage with his foot and spits out while chucking the cookie in after, if you can even call it that.

You turn back around and hand him a glass of water. “Woah! You finished it already?! Was it good?” You grin at him while clapping your hands.

The man felt bad that even when following a simple recipe you had no talent when it came to baking, “Very good! I ate a lot of kikufuku on the way here so i'm full but i’ll eat some later cutie”

Later that night, when he made sure you were deep asleep he throws them all away and quickly stuffs other things to hide his crime.

Next morning: “Toru? What happened to all the cookies I made last night?” “I got so hungry in the middle of the night and they were so good that I ate them all! Sorry angel!”

“Oh?! Okay I’ll just make more then! Look I’m improving-“

“NO!…no more cookies, save your baking for a special time…hehe”

#₊˚ʚ 🌱 :: maka’s work #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

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It’s Okay, I’m Here

Pairing: Husband!Daniel x Driver!Reader

Request: Hello. Please could I request a fem f1 driver x married to Daniel and they both drive for Red Bull and, one race she gets in to an bad accident and Daniel goes into protective husband mode. Thank you

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Crash, language, hospital, etc.

A/N: Ughhhhh love protective drivers 🥵🥵

Honestly, it could happen to anyone, but of course, it happens to you in the most important race of your career. This wasn't just some race; this was Monaco Grand Prix. Today, you were going to prove yourself as a driver for Red Bull and show that you're more than just some chick driving a car and married to your teammate Daniel Ricciardo.

In truth, there was nothing to prove. Everyone on the grid respected you, and the fans adored you. Still, you always felt like you needed more than that. You repeatedly proved it with wins so close to winning the title that you could smell the fireworks and champagne.

Red Bull loved you and Daniel; initially, you both hated each other and kept wrecking every other Grand Prix; after a stern talk, you decided to let it go. Daniel wanted nothing more than to put your damn attitude into place, and you wanted to bash his head in. Christian was surprised when you both were terrific one morning and acted like nothing had happened. Of course, this tends to happen you you both fucked until the sun comes up, but no one needed to know that.

"Alright, Y/n, this is lap 57. You're 0.319 behind Russell, and Daniel is 2.467 behind you, keep pushing and get a clean overtake if you can." Horner lists off before you hear the click, making you smirk, knowing you could easily pass George with no problem in the tunnel.

You hit the gas and decide to put in the work knowing full well what you were about to do would be dangerous, but it'll get the crowd going, and the commentators would die over it. Coming up to turn 12, you didn't think much of it when you went to pass George, except the Mercedes hit the brakes early.

It all happened so fast, the screeching of brakes, the crunch of metal, the smell of burning rubber on pavement. You could still smell and hear it clear as day as your car hurled itself into the barriers knocking you out the moment you hit George's car.

"Red Flag Daniel, Red Flag, be careful. There's a crash up at turn 12, being the car in nice and easy." Horner rattled off, sounding spoked and worried.

"Who was it? Y/n, was just ahead of me. Tell me it wasn't her." Daniel demands, slowing the car down as his heart rate picks up faster, seeing smoke ahead and marshals ushering everyone back from the track.

"Don't worry about that, Daniel. Just gets the car back here, alright." Horner interrupts, knowing he couldn't let Daniel realize it was you or he'd go crazy.

"No! God Dammit, is that my wife?!" He yells as the Marshals throw something up to block drivers from seeing the crash.

Daniel doesn't receive an answer making him start yelling and cursing as he tries to get back to the pits as soon as he can to see you in person and calm down when he holds you in his arms. Except he doesn't get that when he pulls up and does t see your car, everyone in the put glued to their screens.

Climbing out of the car, he rips his helmet off and takes in the look of horror, tears, and absolute shock as he watches the scene unfold in front of him.

"Where's Y/n!" Daniel yells to no one in particular, looking for his wife all over the place, not wanting it to be true.

"Daniel." Horner walks up to him with an uncertain look as he approaches the Australian.

"No. It's not her, okay? She's around here somewhere now. Where is she because? I need to see her." The man barks, shoving his helmet down, and starts walking around the garage but stops seeing the screen.

His wife, world, and baby were being pulled out of a car limply and moved to an ambulance.

"I DNF." He announces before grabbing everything and taking off as he watches the ambulance go down the road toward the hospital.

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity before he storms to the floor you're on. Nurses and doctors try to keep him calm, but Daniel listens to no one as he searches all over for you before finding a team of nurses.

"Get the fuck away from her." He snarls, not thinking clearly as he sees you lay with your clothes open, skin pale with sweat and splotches of blood on your body.

"Mr. Ricciardo, we need you to leave, please." A nurse tries to reason with him, but he shoves past her.

"If you think for one fucking second I'm leaving her side, then you're a bunch of dumb fucks,. Now tell me what the hell is wrong." Voice cracking at the end as he looks back down at you; you seem vulnerable and lifeless. This wasn't his wife, not the woman full of life and certainly not weak.

"She's stable, just unconscious; we're waiting for her to wake to know the full extent of her injuries." A nurse whispers, trying to soothe him.

"Leave us." He answers, not wanting anyone around him. He wanted the person or thing that did this to you dead. He didn't care if it was another driver; he'd kill them.

Hours pass as he waits for you to wake up. He hears familiar voices outside the room but refuses to leave your room or let anyone near him until you wake.

"Danny?" You croak, voice starchy and throat tight. Those big beautiful brown eyes look up at you as his brilliant smile looks broken and hurt.

"What happened?" You move to sit up, but Daniel pushes you back down with care.

"You crashed, baby, but it's okay. I'm here." He whispers, kissing your bruised and cut-up cheek.

A smile is your answer as you close your eyes and lean into Daniel's scent, not wanting him to go anywhere, and that he doesn't. The nurses and doctors rotate out of the room under Daniel's careful watch and even snap at one doctor for hurting you while examining you. Still, he had to touch you there to see if anything was damaged beyond normal.

"Stop it, Danny. You're making it hard for everyone to work." You chastise, but your husband just rolls his eyes at you.

"You're my world, love. If anyone hurts you, I'm burning it down." He grumbles as another doctor comes in.

"Just shut up." You giggle as Daniel just smirks and continues to watch over you and enjoys every moment of being protective over you. He'd hold this over you for some time.

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jaesqueso · 1 year

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Baby don’t stop (m)

pairing: gym buddy!jaehyun x female!reader

summary: you don’t want to deal with feelings, but you don’t want him to stop

word count: 5,089

warnings: fluff, unprotected and protected sex, oral, fingering, semi-public sex

a/n: ever since I saw these gifs of Jaehyun I knew I had to write this, it just took a bit longer than I thought 😅 I hope ya’ll enjoy it ❤ not proof read yet

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

For most people going to the gym is a burden. The strength it takes to get out of the house and going to a place where you’re sweating and in pain sometimes loosing to the will to stay in the comfort of the couch. Those people definitely don’t work out with Jung Jaehyun.

You’ve seen him around town before. Well, who hasn’t? The man exudes seduction wherever he goes. Man and woman gagging at his handsome features and his sweet personality. So when you were looking for a new gym, since the one you used to go reallocated to another city, you made your decision when you saw him sitting on a bench, legs parted but back straight, his face showing the pain of those shoulder presses he was doing. In the first weeks you noticed your schedules seemed to match and running into him went from a polite greeting to actually working out together as you got to know each other.

“I thought I’d run into you here.” Seeing his smile walk through the door almost makes you crumble out of your plank position but you manage to hold it until your timer goes off.

Sometimes you like to go into one of the rooms of the gym, when there’s no classes going on, to have more space and privacy and since you’re a regular the staff had no problem with it. So when Jaehyun didn’t see you on the shared space he know exactly where to find you.

“I thought you’d given up training.” You get up, wiping your sweat with a towel as he walks up to you in his plain black t-shirt and grey sport shorts.

“Oh, come on, I’m only like ten minutes late.” Rolling his eyes he grabs a mattress and places it next to yours.

“Ten minutes? More like half an hour.” You chuckle as he glares at you.

Over time you became close enough to bicker and tease each other like this all the time. There was no denying you felt incredibly attracted to him but you couldn’t tell if he felt the same or was just being nice like he was to everybody else.

“Did you miss me that much? Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ghost you like that.” He winks as he does his stretching, making you shake your head with a grin. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Core.” You wiggle your brows.

“Oh great.” He pretends to be excited before letting his body fall into the mattress.

“Don’t be a pussy. You gotta work on those abs!” Playfully you slap his stomach but instantly regret feeling how rock solid he already his through his shirt.

“Oh no, you injured me! Guess I can’t do it no more!” He fake groans on the floor. “I need some mouth resuscitation, quick!”

“You wish!” You laugh to mask how much you’d love to do exactly that. “Come on, time to start a new set.”

“Ugh, ok lets go.”

This is a familiar set you two already know by heart. Starting off with sit ups, then some flutter kicks, followed by mountain climbers, traditional hip thrusts and some crunches, ending with a minute plank. As usual, you go through 5 sets, even if you had already done one, hyping up each other while your bodies grow sore and glistening with sweat, the temperature of the room rising.

As much as you’re used to working out with Jaehyun, you don’t think you’ll ever stop sneaking glances at the way his muscles tense up and how he bites his bottom lip to focus on controlling them. You’re pretty sure your body heat is not only from the exercises but the burning desire of feeling his warm skin against yours. It doesn’t help that the core set is just so… Sensual.

What you didn’t know is that he did the exact same thing. From the corner of his eye he observes every inch of your body, how you manage to be all sweaty and still remain so sexy. How he wish he could feel those hips thrusts against his-

“Jaehyun!” You pull him out of his transe. “Plank!”

“Oh, right!” He quickly switches positions to keep up.

“Come on, this is the last set.” You try to encourage both of you on finishing it.

“Why does a minute in plank feel like three hours?” Groaning he tries hard to hold his position.

“3, 2, 1… Done!” The timer goes off and you two let your bodies fall to each mattress, panting.

“Finally!” Jaehyun cheers turning his body around and you do the same.

Smiling as you stare at the ceiling, you take long breathes to bring your heart rate down. When you look the side you see him turning his face to you too. For a few seconds you lay there looking at each other, chest heaving up and down. There has always been some sexual tension between you two, even if none admitted it, but today it just felt particularly strong. That’s why in no time your lips were pressing against each other as your bodies entangled into one.

His hands roam on your sides as you pull his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere around the room. The kiss is desperate and intense letting you know how much he’s been thinking about this too. With him on top of you on the thin mattress, your shirt comes off as well, but your sports bra is too tight and sticky so he gives up and leaves it on.

When his hand cups your core, the fabric sticks to it but you know it’s not sweat, it’s your burning desire to feel more. Your tights leggings struggle to slide down your legs, but this time he’s not giving up that easily, taking your shoes with them. His lips then travel down your neck, tasting your salty hot skin. Wet kisses are left between your breasts, on your stomach, down to your still covered pussy.

By now you’re both too needy to get any more naked so he simply slides your panties to the side to slide his fingers between your folds, making you moan as your hand makes its way inside his underwear to stroke his hard dick. His long slender fingers slide so easily inside you, the nasty noises as he pumps them in and out driving you insane.

“Fuck me, Jaehyun.” You groan against his lips.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

With a smirk he removes your hand from his member, pushing his shorts and briefs down his hips and letting out the beast. You yelp when your legs are pushed apart and he positions himself between them.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom…” He sighs right before he was about to align himself with your entrance.

“That’s ok, I’m on the pill. And you can pull out.” You desperately suggest, there’s no way you’re losing this opportunity.

“You sure?” He confirms.

“Please, Jaehyun…” You beg pulling his hips down on yours.

Without wasting any more time, he pumps up his dick a few times and rubs it between your slick folds before finally sliding it inside you. You bite your lips at the satisfying stretch, digging your nails into his shoulder. After adjusting, his hips start moving against yours, quickly increasing the speed of his thrusts in despair.

Your legs instantly wrap around his waist, pulling him as closer as you can so he can hit as deep as he can. You’ve dreamt about this moment for so long, but your fantasies can’t come close to how it really feels to have all of him in you, as his mouth leaves beautiful marks all over your neck.

After a while he turns you around with his strong arms, lifting your hips so you’re resting on your knees as your face is pushed down. When he enters you again, the angle making it hit differently, has you grasping on the mattress.

With a tight grip on your hips, he moves just at the right pace to start building that sweet feeling deep inside of you. You’re not one to cum easily but damn, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feel like a life time and damn, he’s doing such a great job.

Lifting your head you’re graced with a beautiful vision: the huge mirror on the wall in front of you showcasing his shirtless sculptured figure right behind your sinful position. You notice the way he bites his lip just like he does when lifting weights, and it drives you crazy. Soon his eyes find the reflexion of yours making the corner of his lip curl up in a devilish smut.

Suddenly your upper body his lifted against his, leaving you on full display in the mirror, his movements in and out of you never stopping. One of his hands travels down your stomach before his index and middle fingers start circling your clit increasing your pleasure. His coordination is unbelievable, much like his self control, because you could sweat he was holding his orgasm in just to make this moment last a little longer.

“Cum with me.” He whispers against your ear as you both watch your bodies moving in sync.

With one last groan you do as you’re told, like a good girl, almost crumbling down if his grip around your waist wasn’t that tight. Watching you fall apart in front of him triggers his own high but he manages to pull out, like a good boy, white strings of cum flying into the mattress.

For a few seconds you stay just like that, kneeling in each others arms as you regain your breath and let your heart rate get back to normal.

“Guess we don’t need cardio today.” Jaehyun jokes as you two start to get dressed.

“Don’t think the staff will love our alternative for the treadmill though.” Chuckling, you grab your towel to clean up what you can from the mess on the mattress.

“Oh shit, do you think somebody heard us?” He looks around, thanking all heavens that the small room doesn’t have any windows or cameras, at least that he can spot.

“We weren’t interrupted, were we?” You shrug with a grin. “Besides, it’s not like our noises were much different from someone exercising really hard.”

You both laugh but then he walks to you, hand gentling resting against your cheek before he leans for a kiss. This time his lips move slower, he doesn’t rush as you already got the lust out of the way. It should feel good, and it does, but you can’t help but freeze on the spot, panicking inside.

“I gotta go.” You grab your things and rush to the door right after he steps back.

“Wait! Did I do something wrong?” He calls but you’re already out of the room.

Quickly he grabs his stuff and tries to chase you but you’re nowhere to be found. He tries calling but you don’t pick up. He texts but there’s no reply. Jaehyun’s confused, he thought you wanted this, he thought you liked him. But if you did, why did you run away?

It was hard not answering his calls or texts but it just got too real too fast. Yes, there was physical attraction between you two and he is a fun guy to be around. But that last kiss just felt like too much, like there were feelings behind it and that’s something you just can’t deal with.

You decide not to go to the gym the rest of the week to avoid him. Childish behaviour? Yes. But it beats having to deal with possible feelings.

Friday night arrives and you decide to go out, have some fun and forget about all this mess. You meet up with some friends but once you get to the club everybody casually spreads out, some looking to pull, some just finding a spot on the dance floor. As for you, the bar is your first destination, greeting the bartender and ordering your usual drink.

“Guess faith is stronger than your will to avoid me.”

Looking to the side you see Jaehyun. Up until now you’d only seen him in his gym clothes, but you gotta admit the red dress shirt and black pants suit him like a glove. But you push the lust to the side and grab your drink about to disappear into the crowd.

“Wait.” He grabs your arm making you look back. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” You step back, taking his hand off of you.

“I think you know.” You sigh, realising there’s no point running away. “We were hitting it off so well, why did you run away?”

“Look,” you stop his hand from reaching your arm again, this time to caress it, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about us.”

“And what idea is that?” He raises a brow.

“I don’t do relationships, Jaehyun. Yes, I had a good time with you but that’s it. If you’re looking for more than that, I’m not your girl.” You turn back around about to go your way again.

“Who said anything about a relationship?” His words stop you. “I had a good time too. And I think it would be a waste to just throw away all this chemistry.”

You remain in place, thinking about what he said, se he walks over to you.

“We can just keep it casual, you know?” His breath against your ear as his hands make their way to your hips, brings a smile to your face. “Just physical, not feelings.”

“You can buy me another drink first.” You push him away and turn around. “Then we’ll see.”

It doesn’t take a psychic to guess how the night ended. Bodies entangled, rolling around on his sheets. Luckily he had a drawer full of condoms so you didn’t have to play the dangerous pull out game again.

The next morning, Jaehyun wakes up alone as you sneaked out when he instantly feel asleep after your new work out plan. For a second he thinks you might’ve have regret the agreement but your texts are back making him chuckle as he goes in the bathroom to take a shower.

You didn’t take any more chances at the gym, saving the place to actually work out, but you start meeting casually when needing to blow off some steam, or if you were just in the mood. You never discussed being with other people in the mean time, but if you got what you needed from him, why would you go through the process of picking up someone new?

You just had one rule: no sleeping over. Wether he went to your place, or you went to his, nobody sleeps the night at the other’s bed. That’s your one requirement to avoid feelings. And so far it seemed to be working. Months have passed and your friends with benefits agreement feels like one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

Until one day he decides to say the forbidden words.

“Why don’t you stay?” You ignore his words and pick up your clothes to get re-dressed, but he insists. “C’mon, it’s late and I know I wore you out tonight.”

“Jaehyun stop.” You don’t have to look back to know the proud look on his face from his performance tonight.

“I don’t get why you insist on leaving right after we have sex.” He sits on the bed, back against the headboard, not even bothering to cover his still naked body. “You make me feel so used.”

“Oh, poor thing.” You go along with his joke at first but then decide to clear up the boundaries. “I told you why.”

“‘Sleeping together leads to waking up together which leads to feelings, blah, blah, blah’, I know, I know.” He mocks your voice and groans, “I just can’t understand why you’re so scared to catch feelings.”

“I’m not scared,” you roll your eyes, “I’m just-”

“‘Not that type of girl’, right…” He sprawls across the bed, getting annoyed with the conversation.

“If you know all of that, why are we discussing it?” You check yourself in the mirror, adjusting your hair.

“Because I feel like you’re softening up.” He casually replies.

“What?” You turn around with furrowed brows.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” His tone is cocky, “The texts we exchange, the way you kiss me and touch me lately… I know you’re getting smitten.”

“Goodnight, Jaehyun.” You grab your jacket and purse and get out the door.

When you get home you can’t stop thinking about what he said. You grab your phone and open your conversation with him. You cringe a little bit at how… Cute you started talking over all the usual teasing. Could you really be getting smitten?

Locking your phone, you lay on your back as you stare into the celling. Maybe you have been a little more kissy and touchy lately. Ugh, did you catch feelings and didn’t even realize? Your mind is a mess and your heart is beating like crazy. Is this what having feelings feel like? I do people live like this?

The next time you meet up at your place, no one talks about the conversation that has been on repeat inside your head, not that there’s much talking at all. But when he’s getting ready to go, you can’t stop yourself.

“You’ve been thinking about what you said.” You pull the sheets over your tired bare body.

“About what?” He continues getting dressed.

“About me being scared of my feelings and all that…” He stops with his t-shirt half way through his arm and turns to you with a surprised expression. “Maybe… Just maybe! I could give it a try…”

“Wait.” He walks to the bed and sits on the edge. “Do you mean, give us a try?”

“I guess…” You try to hold in your smile as his grows big. “But you should know I have no idea how to do this.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll make It work.” Crawling over the bed, he heads straight to your lips before you stop him with a hand on his chest.

“Not so fast, I wanna do this properly.” You got him groaning at your barrier.

“What do you mean?” He leans back again.

“I believe we should go on a date first.” You propose.

“A date? Aren’t we a little pass that?” He chuckles taking a peek inside the sheets and earning himself a slap on his hand.

“Jaehyun, I never did this before so I wanna do it right.” You insist.

“OK, ok, you win.” Getting up, he continues getting dressed. “Where should we go then?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wink making him shake his head with a smile. “How does Saturday at 7pm sounds?”

“Sounds like it’s gonna be fun!” He excitedly replies as he heads out.

“Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

When the front door closes you roll around the bed, giggling like a teenager. This feelings thing is so weird, but you gotta admit it feels kind of nice.

Saturday comes and he’s finishing getting ready when the doorbell rings. You had texted him you’d pick him up so a smile grows on his face. The first thing he sees is a huge bouquet making his eyes go wide.

“Hi.” Your head pops up from behind it with a grin.

“What is this?” He chuckles taking the flowers.

“Well, I read online it’s usual to bring flowers on date.” You shrug.

“I’m pretty sure it’s usually the guy doing this part…” He raises an eyebrow. “But I’ll take it. Let me put these in some water and we can go.”

You awkwardly wait by the door but he is quick to come back. The date is a classic one: dinner and a movie, simple but effective. You didn’t want to go overboard with it in case it went wrong, but of course it doesn’t, you already know each other so well and have so much chemistry that it had everything to go right. The conversation flows, you laugh and get to know each other even more. At the end of the day it was a very successful date.

When you drop him back at his place, you walk him to the door, laughing about a funny scene in the movie you watched.

“Here you are, safe and sound.” You smile, pleased with the outcome.

“I am.” He chuckles. ”I had a really great time.”

“Not bad for a first date, huh?” You nudge his arm.

“Not bad at all.” With that he starts to lean forward expecting a kiss but you stop him.

“You’re supposed to wait til the third date to kiss.” You whisper against his lips that are so close from yours.

“Says who?” He whispers back, not moving an inch.

“The internet.” There’s a pause and then you two start laughing. “I told you I want to do this right, I don’t want you to think I’m easy.”

“Ok, we’ll do it your way.” He finally steps back with a sigh and plays along. “Will you call me then?”

“I will.” You nod. “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

The rest of the weekend he stays by the phone but no call, not even a text. Why are you so confusing and give him mixed feelings? He thought everything went well but now you just go silent. On Monday afternoon he sees you entering the gym and catches you right before you get into the locker room.

“Oh hey, I didn’t see you!” Your smile looks so genuine that makes his head a mess.

“Don’t tell me you’re avoiding me again.” He puts on the cutest pout.

“What?” You tilt your head. “Why would I be avoiding you?”

“Right?” You grow more confused. “You said you’d call. And then you didn’t…”

“Oh that?” You chuckle. “I read you’re supposed to wait two days to call back. I was gonna do it tonight.”

“Are you serious?” He lets out a relieved breath. “Does everything really have to be under these ‘rules’?”

“I told you I don’t know how to do it, so yes.” You explain, giving no room for him to refute any further. “Now let me go get ready, otherwise I won’t get any exercise done today.”

Jaehyun stands there looking dumbfounded as you go change. You’re so unique and peculiar, but that just makes him like you even more. One thing he doesn’t really like is that because you finally decided to accept your feelings and go on all these dates, he’s getting none so he’s growing horny and needy.

You keep going on dates and, as promised, at the end of the third one, before you say your goodbyes, you pull him in for a kiss. He takes as much as he can from the moment, not ever wanting to let go, but you eventually push him back and leave.

By the end of the fifth date you accept to come inside his apartment for one last drink before you go. You get comfortable on his couch as he prepares some light drinks and then joins you. The conversation continues like an extension of the date, with him scooting closer and closer until his mouth joins yours.

The glasses are placed on the coffee table as the kiss intensifies and you find yourself moving to his lap. His hands grip on your hips, slightly moving them back and forward to create some friction. But as you start feeling something growing under you, you quickly get up and adjust your clothes.

“Maybe we should call it a night now.” You clear your throat.

“Why?” Frustrated, he runs a hand through his hair before rolling his eyes. “Is these because of those ‘rules’?”

“Well, I read guys like to do it on the fifth date but girls prefer to wait until around date nine, so maybe we should go on a few more…” You bite your lip realising how silly these dating rules sound.

“Oh yeah?” Suddenly he gets up and takes off his shirt. “You really want to date four more dates?”

Gulping, you watch his toned torso that you know so well and miss so much. You also notice the bulge in his pants making your insides burn. In your head you start debating if you still want to do this ‘right’ or give into the pleasure.

“So?” He steps closer, voice dropping low.

“Fuck it.”

Closing the distance you instantly jump on him, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms support you on his shoulders. Good thing he works out hard and catches you like it’s nothing, resuming the kiss he wished you’d never stopped.

He carries you into the bedroom and lays you in bed. Your clothes slowly come off, the naked spots getting covered with Jaehyun’s gentle kisses. When you’re fully bare, he takes a spot between your legs, face inches away from your pussy as he blows some hair on it.

Biting your lip, you squirm on the mattress, desperate for more, but his strong hands hold your tights apart before his tongue travels between your juices folds to focus on the center of your nerves, drawing the most intricate designs and driving you crazy.

Soon his fingers join the party, slowly entering you and curling just the right way to massage that special spot. By now you’re not able to hold it in anymore and let the moans escape your lips. All those dates were fun but damn you missed how he makes you feel in bed.

You try to tell him to just fuck you already, even if it gets lost in your sinful sounds, but he seems to be focused in getting an orgasm out of you before making your wish come true. When your body shakes in pleasure he makes sure to lick all your juice before his lips make their way up so you too can taste yourself.

Then he leans back on his knees, taking his time to unbutton his pants, but now you’re impatient so you replace his hands removing the remaining clothes off his body. His jaw drops in a silent moan when you wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping it up and down.

Letting a drop of saliva fall into the tip, you smear it on the head before you start sucking on it with your hand still moving on the length. Gradually you move your mouth lower until you have all of him inside. You start bobbing your head at a nice pace, feeling him grow more if that’s even possible.

Jaehyun messily grabs your hair out of your way, biting his lip as he attentively watches his dick disappear between your lips. His precum mixes with your own taste in your mouth giving you a nasty yet delicious flavour.

You wanted to go all the way and have him explode in your mouth but he’s the one needy and desperate right now. Gently he pushes you back in in the mattress and reaches for a condom on his night stand. He rolls the rubber down his length before aligning himself in your entrance and slowly pushing in.

Pressing your tights to your torso, his hips start moving as your nails dig onto his back for support. His pace and stamina is like no other, but today it feel different. He’s still hitting all the right spots inside you but this time it feels more passionate and caring, even if he’s fucking your brains out.

After a messy kiss, he leans back, lifting one of your feet to rest on his shoulder, slightly changing the angle and making you moan louder. He joins the melody of pleasure in the room, moving faster and deeper as his orgasm builds up. You look up through half lidded eyes and smile spleeplish at that signature expression you adore, the one he makes when lifting weights as he to control his muscles.

He knows he won’t last must longer, and neither will you for your second high of the night, so he moves your leg to join the other one, positioning you on your side, and lays behind you. He wants to feel close to you when he cums so he wraps his arm around your waist, gluing his rock hard torso to your back.

To make sure you get your orgasm before him, he slips your upper leg over his hip, allowing him to hit deeper inside you as his hand moves to your clit. The circular movements of his digits along with the pace of his dick sliding in and out of you are enough to push you over the edge and you coat him in your juices.

Soon, he too is filling up the condom, his moans so close to your ear, almost making you cum again. You stay there for a few minutes, in each others arms, his cock getting soft inside you, until it starts to feel a bit nasty, in a bad way and you separate to clean up.

Back in bed, for the first time you cuddle. It’s such a simple thing but so emotionally powerful that makes you think you’ve done the right thing in letting him in. Letting your feelings in. Your head feels so right laying on his chest, it annoys you much you enjoy listening to his heartbeat as his chest heaves with his steady breathing.

“Alright, time to go.” He taps your shoulder.

“Go where?” You look at him confused.

“Home, silly.” He bops the end of your nose.

You feel like a rock was dropped to your stomach. He wants you to go home. Like you did all those other times. You thought that with dating and accepting your feeling things would be different and it would be good to spend the night, but maybe he thinks differently.

“We already had sex so there’s no point you staying right?” He continues with the most natural smile in his face.

“R-Right…” Still confused, you slowly get up but then get yanked back into his arms.

“I can’t believe you fell for that.” He laughs. “I was just kidding.”

“You idiot!” You hit his chest annoyed at how you realise this is probably what he felt all those times before.

“Shut up, you love me.” As Jaehyun cages you in his embrace you have no choice but to give in.

“Maybe I do.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nc-teen @yutahoes @dimplehyunn @iknowyuno @bebskyy @ne0cultur3technology @nurenciye @luvjeongjaehyun @nohyuckieduckie @booyouwhore17 @jenoxygen

unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz @jaehyunsprincess

#neohub #jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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undercoverpena · 8 months

Text

xi. hold her, and tell her everything's gonna be fine

javier peña x f!reader | chapter eleven of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: sad!reader, talks of jobloss, comforting!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love ✨ wordcount: 3.3k. an: i know, when will jo stop changing the banner, but I love this so much and feel it encompasses everything for these two.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

I have one last thing to research and then I’m all yours.

have you eaten

There is a piece of fruit in my hand, as I research.

you said you were gonna order

In my defence, I’m not super hungry.

if I was there id hide your notebook and make you eat tamales my mama taught me to make

Make me, ay?

oh baby normally i would be so down to talk dirty with you and make you blush but only when youve eaten

I really want this job, baby.

i know but i really want you to not be ill

Because you really really really like me?

i heard that in your voice and yes because I really like you

In the last few days, the two of you have managed to complete three crosswords. Something he’s impressed with and you’re disappointed in.

“So, another one—I’m still unsure what this even means.”

Laughing, he hears you crunch another piece of fruit—thankful to hear you eating. “What’s the clue, baby?”

He’ll never tire of it, hearing you call him that. A sweet sound, all wrapped in kindness—floating down the phone line all the way to his ear.

“‘Not a company man’, six letters,” he says, fingers rolling the bridge of his nose.

“Hermit,” you say, calm, casual. “Or, you know, me if I don’t get the job.”

“Baby,” he warns, pen scratching the paper as you try to laugh.

Then you asked to change the conversation. Something he was more than happy to oblige, capping the pen, shoving the book away, leaning on the counter as you tell him about a new recipe you like. Talking fast, busy—almost far too energetic, but he knows why.

It’s all because of today.

The interview—the things he’s heard you jump through hoops for—arriving sooner than he could have relaxed you for.

You’d practised elements of your presentation and called him more than you usually would. Something he liked, enjoyed. The feeling of being needed. That his opinion mattered. It all weaving within him, stitching the parts of him that had weakened since the goodbye, since the drive home—alone and without you.

After a quick text in the morning, Javi had known not to expect to hear from you for a while. Likely not even immediately post your interview, probably needing a coffee—a breather.

If he lived there, where you were, you’d likely need him. Meet him outside, coffee in hand to give to you, a comforting hug, your breath on his neck as you let the tension out.

But he wasn’t there.

And he had thought he might have heard from you an hour later.

let me know how it’s gone baby

Javi tries not to be needy.

A battle he finds easy to lose when it comes to you. Digging his phone out the back pocket of his jeans periodically, ignoring the animals nuzzling their noses at him for food as he checks his battery, texts, calls…

Then the hour bled into two. Your interview was two-hundred and thirty-nine minutes ago, to be precise.

By now, he’s expected to have heard something, anything.

you still want me to call tonight

He tries not to worry. Even as his tasks dwindled, the sun beating down, his stomach growling and sweat building in parts of him that he should shower off.

But a part of him thinks if he goes inside, it’ll layer on top of him: the loneliness. The thing he feels, but pretends isn’t there.

Because normally, he’d have heard from you at lunch—if not more frequently throughout your day. The silence expected, very out of character. Which turns some cogs in him that twist and tighten, forcing his throat to burn and his stomach to flutter with a nervousness he can’t explain, except that:

Javi wants you.

Not just in the sense that he wants to run his fingers up and down your side, to crush his lips over yours, to bury himself inside of you as he feels himself falling, freely, and happily. But more that he wants to wake next to you, see you smile and laugh amongst the field, show you the water’s edge—feel some contentment there rather than boiling anger at the boats.

You could wear your jacket as the weather cools, and spread your warmth from the photo strip to the rest of the ranch.

youre doing that thing where you make me worry, baby

Eventually, after much internal fighting, he heads in and showers.

Hands washing the day as he hopes the water will take away his worries too. Pressing his palm flat to the tiles, he allows the water to beat down on him—eyes occasionally glancing to the phone on the windowsill, willing it to light up.

He suspects it’s why he stays in a bit longer.

Allows the soap suds to have long since vanished down the plug hole, letting the water begin to go cold as he uses all of the water up.

It’s only when he’s dried off, thrown some comfier clothes on—sunk into his usual chair, does he rotate the phone in his hand. His fingers slid along the underside of his chin, eyes fixated on a photo of him and his parents—their faces beaming, smiling, his hands in theirs.

even got me using punctuation and everything

Please, he whispers.

To no one. Not his Pop in the next room, some show bleeding into the air. Just to himself, as he works the spot on his forehead.

You don’t text him back, but you do call bang on time.

He’s spent the last half an hour pretending he wasn’t loitering, while his pop pretended he wasn’t coming in to make drinks to check on him. Giving him that look, the one Javi had seen so often when he’d first come back from Cali.

All concern, all deep lines embedded with worries as he ticks, tick, ticked.

This was different. Something in his gut telling him that you weren’t okay, a need inside of him to get to you—pack a bag, head to the airport and hope there was a flight or something.

He only hadn’t because a part of him, small—but loud—hummed that it could be him. He could be the reason, the cause. It all too good to be true. His fingers pressing keys to read back his texts, see if he can find the cause—the moment it all began to spoil and undo.

The last hour of investigation led him to nothing. Irritation threading into his muscles until he heard the phone ring—loud, punching holes with its noise into his unravelling.

Smirking, he wipes his hands on his jeans, cocking his head around the doorway—checking for the flickering television and no lurking pop, before he unhooks the ringing phone from its place.

“Took you long enough, was about to ring you and ruin—”

“J—Javi?”

Sniffle. A sob. The beginnings of you splitting in two.

That’s what he hears—clear as anything. It cuts straight through his attempt at teasing and slices through him as though the sound was laced with the edge of a knife.

It’s instant, barely explainable, the way his stomach falls to his feet. His smile vanishes, stolen and robbed, as another sob expands in the space of your two’s silence, making his throat dry, and the phone crunches a little under his grip.

“Baby. Talk to me, what’s happened?”

You swallow, all thick, as though it's a struggle. “I… I—I didn’t g-get the job-b.”

Slowly, his eyes close. Hearing you cry again, louder, less restrained and more freely, them rolling and rolling from you like a wave. The depth of it travels freely down the phone, in the same way, he usually craves when it’s your voice, noise, or presence.

“I’m… cariño, I’m so—”

“—I’m s-sorry, Javi. I’m so sorry…”

Frowning, he slides the fingers down his nose as you continue to apologise—them merging with your hiccups and tears.

“Cariño, wait. Stop.”

And you do. Your sniffles all of a sudden ceasing, more restrained—practically swallowing another one back. Trying to keep it on your tongue, rather than let it escape.

“Why are you apologising to me?”

You’re quiet for a moment, a second. Then you seem to let out a strange noise, before clearing your throat. “The job… I… we’d have been seeing each other more, and I’ve ruined it—I ruined-d it all.”

Frowning, he opens his mouth. Confusion there, all evident and brimming. Because he hasn’t got a fucking clue what you’re talking about. His brain runs, dashing through the notes it’s been making, the snippets here and there you’d spill about your day and your work.

“It was-s in Houston. I’d have been able t-to move. We’d have been c-closer.”

And then it lands.

The realisation. What it would have meant.

It appears in front of him before it slams straight into him. Forced his head to drop, sight lowering to a mark on the wall as his chest tightens. His eyes fixated, unable to tear his eye from the stain on the off-yellow wall—one likely made from him sitting on a stool or chair, maybe even his knee when he’s stretched, when minutes have quickly tumbled into an hour.

Even if he’s reeling, your ramblings have continued. They’re all in various pitches, spluttered and painted in painful cries and strangled sniffs.

“—I—I didn’t want to tell you at first, in case we didn’t, you know, get on.” You continue, some words slamming into the next as you try to level out your cries. “Then I didn’t want to tell you in case you got excited, and I fucked it up—and I did, didn’t I? I fucked it up. And now we won’t live closer, and—“

“Baby—“

But you’re tumbling, rolling right off the emotional cliff you’d been on the edge of. Thick, horrid sobs that shake his foundation and dart cracks through all of him continue to travel from you.

And it hurts. Makes him feel both horrid and weak—helpless. Unsure what he can say, do.

So he offers, “They’ll be other jobs.”

And as soon as it unfurls from his tongue, he wants to drag it back. Swallow each syllable, and letter, and never let you hear them again.

Because he’s sure you cry harder, louder. Even if it appears like you pull the phone away so he can’t hear how deep they go.

And you keep trying to spill out his name, a sentence here and there, trying to form as he pushes the phone against his ear, palm flattening against the wall—balling his fingers up—

“There won’t be…”

Sighing, he lets you take a breath. “Baby, of course, there will be. You’re good, I can tell, alright? And you’re brilliant and just cause those fuckin’ idiots can’t see—“

“I quit, Javi.”

The words he’d been about to say, fizz out on his tongue, die, fade. And it seems to only make you cry harder. His mind trying to catch up, to follow on with what is happening as you explain, in broken sobs, how your entire life seems to crumble apart all around you.

“I… I couldn’t take it. The reason, the explanation. How they gave it to the new guy, the one who doesn’t even know how Houston operates—and I just saw red, Javi. And I quit. Me? I… I just packed my desk up, left….”

He bites the inside of his cheek, listening as you take a breath—it sounds so much like defeat has replaced your sorrow.

“Then I just wandered. A box under my arm… and… I wanted to reply, but I didn’t know where to start. Like, ‘I miss you so much, but by the way, I didn’t get that promotion, and I snapped because they treat me like shit, so I quit. That my best friend is so excited because they’re paying for her to move this month for her new job, and my lease on my apartment is coming up’ and…”

“And what?”

It’s your turn to sigh, it more shaky and still embezzled with sniffles—fluttering down to his ear. “And…” you pause, his pulse suddenly quickening, waiting, mouth opening and then closing. “And, the person who would make me feel better isn’t even in the same State as me—because, I know this sounds crazy, but as soon as I heard why I didn’t get that job, all I wanted… well, all I wanted was you.”

Me?

His lips curl, sliding up into his cheek. His eyes look up, dancing around the marks on the wall as he straightens his spine, and swallows back whatever lump had been forming.

“I just…” you continue, “wanted to be back in that hotel room. Curled up in your arms.”

“You….” Clearing his throat, he tries again. “You know how we could solve that? You could come here—clear your head… just for a minute. Get all the hugs you want.”

You let out a noise, low, shifting it from it to a breath in record time. “Well, I wouldn’t be much fun. I’d just spend it in your bed.”

“That doesn’t sound all that bad, baby.”

“Sleeping and crying, do it for you, charmer?”

He grins, before rolling his lips. “Not if it’s not from how good I make you feel, no. But. I just—want you to have options.”

You go silent, far too quiet for his liking, until he hears the sound of movement, shuffling. His ears honing in, trying to work out what it is you’re doing, could be doing.

“What am I actually gonna do, Javi?”

Fuck. It suddenly dawning on him how unequipped he is for this. For comfort—for being there for another person. He barely looked after himself before, never mind since he came home. He hasn’t got a fucking clue what to say to even begin to make someone feel better, never mind someone who means as much to him as you.

“I… I quit my job. Without even finding another one—that’s… that’s crazy, insane—I don’t do these things and-and—“

Rolling his head on his neck, he ran a hand over his face. Trying to buy a second or two, digging deep for an answer—something comforting that would help.

“You, baby, are gonna get some sleep, and tomorrow we’re gonna sort it.”

He hears you swallow. Loud, followed shortly after by a sigh.

“We?”

You say it quietly, full of disbelief.

Because only you still wouldn’t realise how deep he is in with you. If he could, if he could risk hijacking the moment to explain, he’d tell you how worried he’s been, how he’s been obsessively checking and clicking, to the point he’s pretty sure he’s taken some life of his phone battery for it.

Swallowing, he bites his lip, nodding to himself. “It’s you and me, ain’t it, cariño? You’re not… you don’t have to figure this out alone, is all I mean.”

It’s soft—the way you reply, okay. Delicate. He’s hopeful it’s accompanied by a smile, one with a nose scrunch.

“Javi?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Can you… can you stay on the phone with me?”

Pulling a stool over, he sits himself down on it. The ache in his chest widened, a lump in his throat forming. “Sure, baby. You want me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Not sure…”

“What would you do if I was there?”

He swears he hears you smirk.

“I would cook you almond saffron chicken.”

Shifting on the stool, he adjusts the phone in his hand. “Yeah? How come?”

“It’s the first dish Aish taught me to make, and I think you’d like it. And, I’m quite hungry, I… I didn’t really feel up to food before. But maybe, y’know, if I came to see you, had the chance to cook, maybe over a long weekend?”

Smirking, he lets out a content breath. “I like the sound of it already…”

“Because of me cooking in your kitchen?”

Laughing, he rolls his lips. “No, because it would mean you were here, cariño.

Morning baby, hope the cows aren’t trying to eat your shirt.

morning hermosa why are you up so early

Well, I thought of having a lie in but decided to grab a coffee, print off some CVs and not look as desperate as I feel.

if it makes you feel better im pretty sure my pop would hire you in a heartbeat

Bet I’d look real good in dungarees.

fuck baby

Could even wear your shirt, tie it so it’s a crop.

youre killing me

I’ll leave you with that, I have a list of places to beg to give me a chance.

wouldnt need to beg me

Stop, baby. Save it for later.

He’d barely dried himself off before your text came through.

Javi had found that the one upside to you being unemployed was the amount of time you had to reply or call—something he wasn’t complaining about in the slightest.

In a way (a small, acceptable way), it felt like a taste of what it would be like if the two of you lived closer. If there weren’t towns, cities and states between the two of you. If you lived close by, or better yet, on the ranch with him.

Across the last few days, while you’d seemed upbeat through text—just as you were when the two of you were in Houston—he quickly realised how much of a mask that was when he had you on the phone.

If not for the fact that when you ended the call, you seemed more yourself than when it started, Javi would have already begged someone from a ranch or two over to help, and book a flight out to surprise you.

“Hello, charmer.”

Grinning, he runs his hand over his chin. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

“Well, I have good news.”

“What’s that then?”

“Remember when I said I had to meet with someone in Houston, from imports? Well, apparently, they’ve been trying to get hold of me at work—one of the few nice people there let me know, even passed my details on.”

It begins—right in his stomach. A nervousness, a bubble—it rising and rising, sliding into his heart as it makes it beat just that much quicker.

“He wants to meet with me… apparently, I impressed him?”

“That’s—fuck, that’s amazing, baby.”

Javi can almost hear your grin as you laugh—can even picture you hiding your face in your hand at his happiness.

“Yeah,” you say, more in a sigh than anything else. “It’s obviously just an interview—maybe even a chat, but it’s something.”

Tracing the back of the phone with his finger, he runs his fingers up his neck, up his chin—

Pulse thumping in his neck. “I could… Could always drive up, see you after?”

“Oh… um?”

Oh? He thinks. The noise suddenly on repeat. It’s all he can hear—that little surprised noise rips from your throat and punctures his ear. His own fingers scratching at his cheek.

And then you clear your throat, and he grits his jaw. “Well, if you wanted, once I’ve had my meeting with him, I was going to ask if I could come to Laredo, see the ranch… and you?”

Just as quickly as it came, the earlier shame from your ‘oh’ vanishes. It bursts, erupts into a thousand pieces of nothing as the edges of his lips begin to curl up.

“For a second, didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

You don’t laugh, don’t ridicule his confession, and if you were here, he’d imagine you’d have tilted your head in that way you do.

“Javi, of course, I want to see you. I…” you take a long pause as though battling with yourself. “Baby, I’ve been trying to find my way back to you since the moment I left you. There’s nothing I want more than to see you. I promise.”

His shoulders descend from his ears, a smile spreading across his face so large—he’s not sure anything could take it. Something inside of him shifted, sliding back together.

“So, do you mind if I come to see you on your ranch? Bother your animals, let me admire your fence work?”

If he hadn’t been sure before, he’s sure now he would have kissed you. Grip you by your cheeks and crash his mouth to yours, stealing that question mark from the air and using his lips to remind you that with him, you never need it.

But, since he can’t, he finds words. One’s that are more eloquent than ‘fuck, yes’, but are close in family to it.

Because, of course, he wants to see you. He never wanted to let you go in the first place.

an: we have next weeks and then an epilogue, and LNT 'main story' will be done. honestly, thank you for all the love as we've gone on this journey. i never expected this for one second, and i'm so emotional right now at how well loved/supported this story has been. i'm gonna miss it, so much.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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