#This song is perfect. I wonder if anyone else thought about this too.

[shu-bullshit]

"My head's been wet with the midnight dew

I've been down on bended knee

Talkin' to the Man from Galilee

He spoke to me in the voice so sweet

I thought I heard the shuffle of angel's feet

He called my name and my heart stood still

When he said,

'John, go do my will!'"

#This song is perfect. I wonder if anyone else thought about this too. #Did a drawing for it years ago now another. Oh yeah #Unfortunately you're not gonna see naked John from me yet this is just our comrade John #my art #faith game #faith the unholy trinity #john ward #faith john ward #cw: gore

[selvepnea]

Thinking about. That one post about art. And how it's never good enough. Since you're the one that made it. And how. It might relate to how I view myself?

#Sel talks #Like. Do I like the idea of a masculine body because I think it will make me less me? #I keep thinking about a line from “in stars and time” talking about. How maybe they changed because it was easier than learning to love #Himself as he was. #Keep thinking about something my therapist said last session. About how he would hope there's more restriction around accessing trans #Health-care than there is about getting a medical Marijuana card #And even if it comes from a place of good intent; is still a harmful idea? #I keep forgetting how much importance cis people put on transitioning. And it's just. Not? For me? #My body is just another form of expression for me to form and play with. And I feel like it might be hard to try and get someone who's #Not thought a lot about gender to understand. #I don't really want to lable it as “transitioning” either. My isat brainrot is wanting me to call it “Changing”; bit I'm not sure if that's #Quite accurate either. Like. We don't have a word for playing with different styles of clothes? Why do I need one for messing w other types #Of presentation? #Sigh... #I'm soooo tempted to just go on t and not do anything else. No name change. No sex change. And not tell anyone. #Why do I need to take into consideration how much my decision weighs on other people? #I feel like I've gotten too many reminders that “tomorrow's not promised” or “How we spend our days is how we spend our lives” #“Don't live wondering” or whatever that old lesbian slogan was. “We're all going to die so who cares if it's a waste”? Some will wood song #I'm listening to. I just. #Why am I waiting for the perfect opertunity to transition? Or change or whatever. #I've always considered my want to masculinise as me taking “be the change you want to see” either too far or too literally #I want to see men in dresses!! And if no one else around here is going to do it I guess that falls on me! #Why must I follow everyone else's path to t?? I want to make my own! #Grrr barkbark #I feel so underequiped to change the world; why must I do it?? Can't it just change for me??

[withleeknow]

my moon and stars.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting) fluff; even tho it's unedited this is still one of my favorite things that i've written on this blog so far !!! gaaaaaaah word count: 1.1k listen to 🎧: lover - taylor swift

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

nobody thought jeongin would be the next one to get married, but alas, here you are, at the reception of your friend's wedding, nursing a glass of champagne.

"come on," minho says, snatching the glass away from you and finishing the rest of it in one gulp, before he takes you by the hand and tugs you forward. "let’s go dance."

you can't even be annoyed that he basically just stole your drink. instead, you just laugh, and let the love of your life drag you to the dance floor.

he guides you to move in a slow rhythm, matching the tempo of the song that's playing in the background. it's a song that you would usually think is overrated and has been played to hell and back, but in the moment, drunk on the cozy atmosphere, you think it's nice. you briefly wonder what song you would choose for your first dance at your own wedding.

it's just a fleeting thought. you've been having those all day.

jeongin's wedding was beautiful. everything was done to perfection, and you have no doubt that most of it was overseen by his girlfriend.

nope, correction: she's his wife now.

nevertheless, you've been imagining yourself and minho in a similar setting. you in a stunning white dress. him, dashing in a classy suit. the two of you exchanging vows with teary eyes in front of your friends and families. the cats as ring bearers. sealing forever with a deep kiss and fond smiles.

as you continue to sway along to the music, you wrap your arms around minho's neck and pull him closer. there's something in the way that he's been treating you all day that makes you melt even more than it usually does. he's been more touchy; there's not a single moment where his hands aren't on your body in any way, whether it be a hand on your knee, on the small of your back, or an arm around your waist. minho isn't often overt with his affection like that; he tends to dote on you in the privacy of your own loving bubble, away from anyone and everyone.

then, there's the softness that he's looking at you with in his chocolate brown eyes. it's warm, saccharine; it makes you feel like you two are the only people left in the room even though this is supposed to be someone else's big day.

"i love you," he says suddenly, brushing his nose against yours before leaning in just a tad closer to your lips, "you mean the world to me."

it's rare for minho to say things like this out of the blue. he's a man of few words after all.

he's full of surprises today, it seems.

"what's the occasion?" you ask with a coy smile.

"no occasion. just wanted to tell you that."

you close the distance, pressing your lips against his as his arms wrap themselves tighter around your body. "i love you too," you smile against him.

he mirrors your smile, and kisses you deeper. he's so sweet today, so openly loving with you even as your friends around you watch on.

you have an inkling that maybe, just maybe, he's been thinking the same things as you.

you stay in each other's arms until the song ends, then another one, then a couple more, just basking in soothing glow of love that's covering the air tonight. minutes pass with kisses shared, until it's finally time for the bouquet toss.

minho reluctantly lets you leave his side for the first time since the morning. his eyes follow you as you move to the front of the room, standing a comfortable distance away from the bride. you've never really been interested in this kind of things anyway; you're just doing it for the sake of participation.

everyone else is engrossed in what's about to happen, their eyes fixed on the bride and the peonies in her hands, but minho is only focused on you. you, who's trying to blend in with the group of people and undoubtedly praying that the bouquet doesn't make its way into your hands. you, whom he thinks looks so beautiful, all dolled up for the special occasion. you, who made his heart stutter when you walked into the room in your pretty dress and flashed him a bashful smile. (but who is he kidding? you make his heart want to give out and run away every single morning when he wakes up and sees you peacefully sleeping in his arms.)

just you. always only you.

you, you, you.

you don't hang in the moon in the sky. you are the moon, you are the stars.

minho watches you watch the bride as she counts down from 3, then flings the bouquet up in the air while everyone waits with bated breath. it's a mess of flailing arms from what he can tell, a couple of the bridesmaids practically fighting each other to try and grab the damn thing.

you try to make yourself smaller, to duck lower so that the others could have the honor instead of you. but when the flowers come hurling toward you, you have no choice but to raise your hands and catch it, lest you want to be lobbed in the face with a bouquet of peonies.

some of the people around you sigh frustratedly, but most of the guys around minho suddenly burst into loud cheers. they clap him on the back and shake him by the shoulders but still, he remains transfixed on you and your adorable wide-eyed expression. your parted lips and doe eyes blinking fast as a rosy flush creeps up your skin.

your eyes find him in an instant, and you both just stare at each other for a moment. he reckons that you're trying to gauge his reaction, because the room is now filled with excited squeals of congratulations and half-hearted jokes of how you and minho are going to be the next ones to get hitched.

you look uncertain, still frozen in place with your hands clutching the peonies.

but then he just smiles, and it makes you smile too, your body immediately relaxing as you give him a wave using the bouquet, your shoulders slumping slightly when you release a sigh.

to minho, it doesn't matter whether you caught the flowers or not; neither of you believes in that kind of stuff anyway. it doesn't matter because he's always known that he was going to marry you, that there's no one else he would rather spend the rest of his life with.

it doesn't matter because unbeknownst to you, he's already got a velvet box hidden somewhere in your shared home, with a gorgeous diamond ring inside just waiting for the day it can be put on your finger.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.01.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

[archiveikemen]

William Rex 2nd Birthday Campaign: Story (2024)

Chapters 1 - 3

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

!! Contains spoilers from William's main story !!

1st Birthday Campaign Story

—

I occasionally find myself reminiscing about the very first time I touched the pair of hands that took lives and gave freedom to others at the same time.

I have no regrets about surrendering everything in my life to those hands.

That’s why, today too, I’m by your side and singing my songs of love for you to my heart's content.

…

On my beloved’s birthday, I went to see my lover earlier than anyone else.

Kate: Happy birthday, Will!

William: Thank you, Kate. Looks like my little robin woke up earlier than usual today.

Kate: I did that to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.

William: Ahh, so that’s why this morning feels more wonderful.

William: What’s that tea trolley with the delicious looking black tea and sandwiches?

Kate: It’s your special birthday breakfast. I borrowed the kitchen this morning to prepare it.

Kate: Ah, but that's not all. I have more surprises prepared for you today—

William: … Fufu.

Kate: Will?

William: Nothing. I shall not doubt your confidence.

My cheeks turned red, it made me both happy and embarrassed to hear his jolly laughter.

Kate: Today’s your special day, and it has to be memorable for you.

Kate: I’m sorry for being so greedy.

William: You know that your greediness is what I love most about you, villainous woman.

Will smiled and gently pulled me closer by the waist.

William: Come, Kate. I shall enjoy the best breakfast with my adorable lover.

After finishing the dessert strawberries,

William: So, what does my greedy little robin want to do today?

Kate: What do you say about going to a photography studio to have your photograph taken?

William: A photograph… I’ve never thought of that.

Kate: I want to immortalise you, the embodiment of evil, as the fairytale keeper.

Kate: Words are wonderful indeed, but I feel that photographs are meaningful as well.

May my records of the self-righteous King’s sins be passed down from generation to generation, like a spoonful of poison warning against committing evil deeds.

“Look, the self-righteous King will come if you commit evil deeds. Therefore, you must never be evil”.

Because a fairytale can only end when evil has received judgement.

Kate: … You don’t want to?

William: I’d love to, this is a wonderful present you thought of. Thank you, Kate.

Kate: I’m relieved to hear that. Knowing you, there must already be one or two photos of you taken without your consent,

Kate: Besides, Her Majesty is quite a big fan of taking photos… right?

William: Yes, there's even a saying that “she is the pride of England’s photography”.

William: However, excluding a few candid shots Victor took, there has never been a proper photograph of me.

Kate: Why is that so?

William: Her Majesty never allows herself to be photographed. It’s unfair that I’m the only one being photographed, right?

William: Even though she has a role to play in this evil too, I’m the only one being known as the villain.

William’s exaggerated shrug brought a smile to my face without me realising it.

William: My “very first” photograph. I love this present from you.

(Will’s first… hehe)

Kate: Then let’s hurry to the photography studio. I have the carriage ready— ah.

When I was about to stand up and head out, Will pulled me back and I fell into his chest.

William: Before that, I want a birthday kiss.

Kate: … But we’ll be late for the photoshoot.

(I want a kiss too.)

(But I know that if we kiss, we won't be able to stop.)

William: You’re being a naughty girl, saying things that go against what your heart desires and making me out to be the bad guy.

William: Kate, “what do you want”...?

He easily exposed my innermost desires, unravelling my heart like loosening a knot.

There was no point trying to hide anything from Will.

Kate: Will, I want a kiss.

William: Shall we do that until we get tired of it, Kate?

…

We would never get tired of kissing, so we reluctantly parted our lips and made our way to the studio just in time.

Studio Owner: I’ve been awaiting your arrival!

Studio Owner: We have lovely weather today, so we can have a photoshoot both indoors and outdoors.

Studio Owner: Where would you like to have your photos taken?

Kate: … Will would look amazing outdoors. Ah, but he looks good indoors too.

Studio Owner: Ahaha, let’s do both then. This way, please.

Kate: Oh, thank you…

William: You’re so lovely when you’re being loyal to your desires. Well then, I shall live up to your expectations.

The photoshoot began a few minutes later, and it didn't take me long to realise what Will meant by those words.

(W-William… he looks PERFECT!)

With every pose Will struck, I could only sigh in awe.

William: How do I look, Kate?

Kate: … Perfect. Ah, please show us a wink.

William: Ahahaha! I’m glad you're enjoying this.

— At that moment, the doorbell at the entrance of the studio rang.

An elderly couple walked in.

Elderly Woman: My, are we a little too early?

William: We were just about to take a break. Would you like to proceed with your photoshoot?

…

Studio Owner: Let’s start the photoshoot! Alright, here we go.

We decided to watch the elderly couple during their photoshoot.

Under the clear blue sky, their smiles and the present moment were captured with every click of the camera shutters.

(They lived a long life together snuggled up like this… how beautiful.)

Watching them hold hands, their hands wrinkled from old age, my chest felt tight.

“Destruction” awaited Will and I with open arms at the end of our love story.

There was no knowing for certain that our destruction wouldn't come tomorrow.

There might never come a day when we could lean on each other lovingly like that elderly couple.

(Even so, I have no regrets. I will continue to live freely by Will’s side until the final moment of my life.)

(It's my freedom and my heart’s desire to love him until the end.)

The heart that Will set free continues beating to this day.

William: ...

William: I have a favour to ask of you, Kate.

Kate: What is it? It’s your birthday, so I’ll do anything you want.

William: Sounds promising. Well then, will you take a photo together with me?

Kate: Together?

William: Yes. You’re allowed to refuse if you don't want to be remembered as the self-righteous King’s lover.

Kate: Let’s take a photo together!

Kate: … Actually… I’ve been wanting to take a photo with you…

William: Ahahaha! I had a feeling you did.

William: If that's the case, let us flaunt our evil to the fullest.

— I wonder what the people looking at our photographs in the future will think of us?

Will they think of me as a foolish woman who was spell-bound by the sinful self-righteous king, leading to my own destruction?

(I don't care what they’ll say about me.)

(Because my heart is free and happy.)

…

Upon returning to the castle after the photoshoot, I guided Will to the dining room.

All the members of Crown were present to celebrate his birthday as planned.

We had cake decorated with strawberries, enjoyed a delicious feast, and drank wine until late into the night—

…

Kate: Mm… nn…

I was roused from my sleep by the gentle sunlight hitting my eyelids, my body wrapped in the sheets and the heat from last night still lingering.

(Ah, Will and I got intimate last night, and we fell asleep right after—)

(Is Will still asleep?)

I slowly lifted my head from Will’s chest that smelled like roses and caught his eyes, the colour of blood gazing at me.

His eyes seemed to hide a gentle rainfall.

Kate: … Will?

William: … Kate.

William: How many more of such special moments will we have?

His tone sounded more serious than usual, I gazed at Will while being held close to his chest and listening carefully to his every word.

William: I don't mean that I’ll let you die easily, but…

William: We’ll never know for sure whether fate will take you away tomorrow.

Kate: Yeah…

William: However, that won't make me regret or give up on loving you…

William: No, instead, that’s why I—

Kate: Will, mm…

William pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss felt more passionate than usual, and I found myself reflexively clinging to his shirt—

Our lips finally parted and he whispered in between ragged breaths.

William: I will risk everything I have to love you.

William: I will listen to and cherish the voices from your heart, and sing the melody of the finest love song.

At that very moment, Will and I shared the same emotion in our hearts.

We didn't know what would happen tomorrow, making that moment all the more precious.

I felt alive.

Kate: Sometimes… I wonder…

Kate: What kind of facial expression will I be wearing when my ultimate destruction comes?

Kate: I think… I’ll surely be smiling happily.

William: … And when I’m holding your happily smiling dead body in my arms, your poison will spread and stop my breathing too.

Kate: … At that point of time, shall we go to sleep together at the finishing line?

William: … Yeah, sounds good to me.

William: But let's put that plan on hold for a bit.

William: For now, may I kiss those beautifully wicked lips of yours that can charm even the most sinful of men?

Kate: Yes… kiss me, Will.

Kate: Mm… nn…

William: Kate…

The desire in his gaze, the smell of roses in the air, the feeling of his hot fingertips on my skin.

Everything Will gave me fueled my desires and made me breathe.

(I was as good as dead before I met Will.)

I spent my life suppressing and killing my heart, ignoring my inner voice.

I felt lost, not knowing what I wanted.

Loving Will might’ve made me born again.

Kate: Will, Will…

William: … Hm?

Kate: If I keep being loved like this… I might never bear to leave you.

William: Want to hear something that’ll benefit you?

Kate: …? What is it? Please tell me.

William: I requested a day off on the day after my birthday.

William: Because I wasn't confident that I’d be able to let you leave this bed.

Kate: E-Eh…?

I was surprised for a brief moment before I burst out laughing.

Kate: … Fufu, ahaha!

Kate: I didn't expect you to surprise me again this year!

William: It’s not as if you don't know that I’m very loyal to my desires?

Kate: Yes, of course I know that.

William: So, Kate. Shall we make love in bed again, or—

Kate: I want it all. Give me a taste of everything.

William: Alright. … I was just thinking the same thing.

William: We’ll make love so hard, you’ll have scratches on your back.

Kate: Ah.

Will laughed as I looked in surprise at the scratches I left on his back last night.

…

A few days after Will’s birthday.

I went to the photo studio to collect the photos we took on his birthday—

Studio Owner: Huh? Didn't you just come to pick up your photos earlier on?

Kate: Eh? Was Will here?

Studio Owner: Yes. Fufu, the two of you sure think alike. The photos turned out wonderful too.

(I missed him. … This is embarrassing.)

(But it makes me wonder if Will was looking forward to seeing the photos. I’m happy if that's true.)

Kate: Thank you for taking such wonderful photos of us.

Studio Owner: …

Studio Owner: When he came to collect the photos, I told him “you look happy”.

Kate: Eh?

Studio Owner: But—

– Flashback Start -

William: Happy, huh. That’s strange, because people can never know what’s in another person’s heart.

William: Even though someone appears to be happy, they may be burdened by the feelings of loneliness, conflict…

William: Take these photographs for example. When the future generations look at them, it’s up to them how they want to feel.

William: But that's alright.

William: … Only the people in the photographs know the truth.

– Flashback End –

Studio Owner: That was why I couldn't help but ask him a question.

Studio Owner: “Is your heart happy?”

Kate: What did Will… what did he say?

Studio Owner: “It is, as long as I’m living with her”.

Kate: … I-Is that so?

(I… I see.)

Unexpectedly learning of Will’s genuine feelings made me so, so incredibly happy, I nearly cried.

At that very moment, I felt truly happy.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil birthday #william rex #ikevil william #aikm translation

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Three | Main Masterlist

Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.

Turmoil.

That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.

His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.

She wasn’t you.

That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.

Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.

This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.

Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.

To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.

Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.

Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.

That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.

Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.

A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.

“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”

“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.”

“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”

“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.

“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”

Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.

“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”

“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”

Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”

Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. “Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.

Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”

Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.

“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”

Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”

Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”

The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”

The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”

Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”

Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.

The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?

With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.

Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.

“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”

“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”

The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?

Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.

Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?

Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”

Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”

“’Course not, but this is different.”

“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.

Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.

“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.

Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”

Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.

“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”

“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.

Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.

The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.

You: Omg do I ever. Mall?

Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.

You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me

Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉

You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?

Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!

An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.

Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.

Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.

“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”

You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”

Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”

Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”

Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.

Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?

Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.

“What do you think?”

The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.

The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.

After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”

Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—

“How about this one?”

“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.

Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”

Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.

You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”

The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.

“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.

“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”

“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.

“Hell no.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”

He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.

“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.

Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.

Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

[cillianhead]

Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

-

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

[poopwons]

**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.” 

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking. 

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all. 

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,��� you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts. 

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,” 

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor. 

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong. 

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.” 

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered. 

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want. 

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.” 

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything. 

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other. 

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same. 

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.” 

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.” 

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it. 

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit. 

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him. 

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.” 

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips. 

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up. 

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows. 

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you. 

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips. 

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties. 

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger. 

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest. 

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” 

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders. 

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you. 

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you. 

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him. 

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth. 

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes. 

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white. 

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath. 

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment. 

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly. 

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side. 

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??” 

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. 

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖

#jean kirstein #snk jean #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #snk smut #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #jean x you #jean x y/n #aot fanfiction #no use of y/n

[pey4562]

What a Liar.

Pedro Pascal x Actressf!reader

Pedro pascal x actressf!reder

(It reminds me of this song)

Disclaimer: ! This is the first thing I’ve written and probably the only one I will write lol and probably a lot of grammar issues but I tried guys 🙌 but I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: mention of smut but nothing really happens, possibly and age gap not specified, pet names, implied relationship, good amount of Y/N, that’s really all. (feel free to let me know if there is more)

Description: you and Pedro have been dating for about a year, and never really mentioned anything to anyone yet you both always said if one was ready, the other one was ready too . You grew really close after you had an intimate scene in Narcos, and when you found out you were both casted for Tlou, you were both happy. Then Pedro decides he’s ready to announce your relationship and announces it in an interview and calls you a liar. In a jokingly way.

*********************************************************

“Ugh this dress is so itchy” you say with a frustrated tone that fills the limo you two were in. ” I can’t wait to take it off of you later.” Pedro says, with a smirky tone. You lightly punch his shoulder as a way of saying ‘oh shut up’ without even opening your mouth. He lightly chuckles under his breath and sets his hand on your thigh, using the slit of your dress to his advantage. he slowly starts rubbing your thigh to calm your nerves which were through the roof.

“I’m glad I have you on my side” you lightly lay your head on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t dare be on anyone else’s side baby,” baby, you loved it when he called you that. It made your heart do backflips.

Sometimes you were surprised that not everyone knew about you and Pedro’s relationship. He would always post pictures with you, call you sweet names, and you guys were obviously very close, but many people didn’t think much about it because Pedro was just a sweet guy. But obviously there were people that made ‘ship edits’ of you two and you adored seeing them, then there were the jealous people sending you mean messages just because you were close with Pedro and they weren’t, but who could blame them, you got so lucky.

“You alright hun?” His low voice brings you back to you’re consciousness. “Oh yeah, I just got lost in thought” you replied then your eyes locked on his. He was giving you those perfect puppy eyes that put you into a comma if you looked for to long. He looked worried “thinking about what” he adds on. “How lucky I am to have you, that’s all” you look at him with your doe eyes, on purpose because you knew how much he loved that. “If anyone is lucky it is me sweetheart, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.” After that you could no longer keep eye contact with him, you were the first to crack you always were, and he loved that he had that dominance over you. Even though you have been together for a year you still blush around him like a high school crush.

The limo stopped. You made it, to the premier of ‘The Last Of Us’. He got out first, everyone was cheering extremely loud, then he opened the door for you. He put his hand out for you to grab to help you get out of the limo. Everyone saw you guys matching, Pedro with a long black sparkly coat and suit, then you with a long slim black sparkly dress. Everyone loved it, especially Pedro. You two hooked arms and walked down the carpet to get inside and filled out autographs as you went through. Once you were inside interviewers were flooding you with questions you tried to answer as many as you could. You looked around and saw Pedro was a few feet away still taking pictures and writing autographs. “Y/N!!, Y/N!” Interviewers are calling you over and over. The first few were just asking you questions about the show, then you got to one of the last ones. “Hello Y/N, everybody is wondering, what is your relationship with Pedro! Ever since THE scene from ‘Narcos’you guys seem to be extremely close. What’s going on!?” The woman asks, you really have to think about your response but it comes to you instantly. “Oh me and Pedro are just friends, he’s actually my best friend and one of my favorite people, but when we found out we were both casted for Tlou we were super excited,” you say then take a small sigh of relief for covering it up so well. “Thank you for your time Y/N” then you head on to the next few interviewers.

“Pedro!! Pedro!!” The same interviewer is calling Pedro,

“Everybody needs to know, what’s up with you and Y/N?” She pauses as he looks puzzled what to say “Y/N said you were just friends” that really caught his attention he knew exactly what to say “Y/N said we were just friends? That little liar.” Then he walks off without saying anything else. Everyone around froze hearing that from Pedro.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ after the party ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



You hadn’t known about what Pedro had said until you got into the limo and checked social media. “Pedro? What happened?” You say puzzled “what’s the matter darling?” He asks not sure what you’re talking about “Y/N Y/L/N and Pedro Pascal dating; Confirmed.” You say genuinely confused. “Oh, I guess I kind of announced our relationship,” he says scared of how you will react. “YOU WHAT?!?” He tries to calm you “ I know baby, I’m so sorry. I just saw the perfect opportunity and I took it, I want to show the whole world that you are mine, no one else can have you. I just don’t want to hide anymore.” He says he looks down towards the ground and refuses to make eye contact with you. “I’m sorry if I came of angry I didn’t mean to I just wish you would have talked to me about it first,” you pause “I’m so excited to be public with you Pedro.” You reassure him and lift up his chin forcing him to look at you. “You’re not mad?” His face lights up. “No honey I’m not mad.” He quickly squeezes you and hugs you as tight as possible as if you were about to run away. “Babe…” you pause. “What exactly was the ‘perfect opportunity’ that you said happened” He lets go of you “that one can wait until we get home, for now let’s worry about right now” you knew that ment you wouldn’t like what he said but he was right, you should just enjoy the moment.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, your leg over his and he was rubbing your thigh. It was so soothing you fell asleep. When you woke up, you were in bed, in your pajamas, hair wrapped up and all your makeup was off, Pedro had carried you out of the limo, straight to bed and pampered you like a little puppy.

When you turned over you saw Pedro, out like a light. You hugged his nearly lifeless body and kissed the crook of his neck. You were alerted by the low growl he let out waking up to you fully bear hugging him. “Baby?” He said with his eyes still closed “I love you so much Pascal.” He knew exactly why you said that. “I love you too…” he paused “Mrs. Pascal” hearing him call you that made your stomach flip inside out 10 times. “But what did you say in that interview, sir” you said with a sassy tone “hold on miss sass, I’ll turn on the tv” He turned it on and went to YouTube. The first video that popped up was your interviews you watched it and heard him say it “that little liar.” He looked at you expecting you to be furious, but just looked over to see you laughing. “You don’t care?” He tilted his head in confusion. “No Pedro! That’s hilarious. Why would I be mad at that!” You say still lightly chuckling “I don’t know, I guess I-“ you cut him off with a kiss on his lips. Then he grabs his phone and takes a picture. “Can I post this,” he asks ever so politely. “Yes, please do,”

#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedrostories #Pedro #fluff #pedro x reader #Spotify

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Smut #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marc Spector #Steven Grant Smut #Jake Lockley Smut #Marc Spector Smut #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake Lockley x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant x Reader Smut #Jake Lockley x Reader Smut #Marc Spector x Reader Smut #Reader x Steven Grant #Reader x Jake Lockley #Reader x Marc Spector #Reader x Steven Grant Smut #Reader x Jake Lockley Smut #Reader x Marc Spector Smut #Oscar Isaac

[goldenjupiterz]

perfection - lee felix

PAIRING ➝ lee felix x fem!9th member reader

GENRE ➝ angst (kinda??) , comfort

WORD COUNT ➝ 0.7k

WARNINGS ➝ not proofread , established relationship , felix snaps at reader , he calls her angel , reader thinks negative thoughts about herself

SONG REC ➝ she ruins everything by ellise

NOTES ➝ lowercase intended! (@w0nslvr , i hope you’re happy i got past the wally wall)

TO BE TAGGED ➝ if you want to be tagged in works like this , you can fill out my taglist form here !

YOU’D MESSED UP. AGAIN.

it wasn’t exactly your fault - the choreography you and felix had been running through together was one of the hardest parts in the song. but you could see the tension in his eyes and the slight flicker of annoyance in his face as he gave you a tight smile and walked over to the music to restart the song. “let’s try again,” he said, his voice unnaturally cold and hard. you nodded slowly, getting back into the original starting positions.

soon enough, your solo part played, and you mouthed the words and slowly walked forward as you were supposed to. your muscle memory kicked in as you moved in time to the beat, but you stumbled a little when you twirled around and accidentally knocked into felix.

“i’m sorry-” you began, only to be cut off.

“god, you can’t do anything right, can you? it’s wonders that you even debuted with us,” he snapped, lightly shoving you away from him. tears stung your eyes and his own widened a second later, pulling you in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “angel, i’m so sorry. i didn’t-”

this time, it was your turn to cut him off. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean it.” you mumbled, willing your voice not to shake. even if he didn’t mean what he said, it wasn’t entirely wrong. you kept messing up, bringing down the rest of stray kids down along with you. why couldn’t you be perfect like everyone else?

you shook those thoughts off as felix said, “i think we should head back to the dorms. it’s already getting late.”

“there’s something i wanted to check real quick, so i’ll see you in the morning,” felix seemed hesitant to leave you but eventually grabbed his stuff and exited the practice room, silence settling in the room. 

as soon as he left, you grabbed your phone and played the music again, deciding to run through it a couple more times. you danced to the song again and again until you were able to run through it smoothly without any mistakes. when you checked the time, it was already 5 in the morning. you quickly rushed back to the doors, took a quick shower, and crept into your room, hoping you hadn’[t woken anyone. 

***

staying up late to practice was supposed to be a one time thing, but it grew into a frequent event to the point where you would only get 2-3 hours of sleep per night. your fellow members began to notice that you were more and more tired, but eventually chalked it up to you practicing harder on the comeback.

soon enough, the new album had released, and yet the late nights didn’t stop. even on your tours you stayed up later than the rest, practicing your vocals and other mundane skills. even stay began to notice, seeing the bags under your eyes that makeup couldn’t hide, and the way you were able to ace the choreography but seemed to tired to speak at every concert.

it eventually came to an end a couple of months after the end of your tour, when felix had woken up early to get some practice in. when he saw you in there, practicing at that time, everything began to line up. he quickly rushed to your side, placing his hands on your shoulders. “how long have you been practicing in here?” 

“since everyone left,” you admitted quietly, too tired to make up a lie. 

“is that why you’ve been so tired for the last couple of months?” you nodded. “is it because of what i said?” another nod. “i’m so sorry, angel. i honestly-”

“i just wanted to be perfect,” you said, a stray tear falling down your face. “i’m sorry i keep dragging you down. i’m such a burden.”

“you’re not dragging us down.” he replied fiercely, looking into your eyes. “do you understand me? you’re not a burden.”

“but-”

“no buts. because,

you’re perfect the way you are.”

taglist: @minleeeknow @crybqbyme @wobblewobble822

networks: @/k-labels

#k labels #angst #comfort #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #stray kids #stray kids imagine #felix #skz #lee felix #lee felix imagine #skz imagine #felix angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #goldenjupiterz

[romanticaacore]

This fic was inspired by the song "My Way of Life" by Frank Sinatra. I first thought of giving this to Jing Yuan because I can also see him in this theme but I couldn't resist Tartaglia. I'm just trapped under his spell. He is my whole world...!! ♥️

"You're not just going to leave me here like this, are you?"

The man would come and find you every single day and would always keep you company. You did everything in your power to keep him at bay, to throw some weak excuse that you were busy. Heavens, there were times when you would flat out tell him that you did not want to be with him.

Tartaglia was a man who appreciated honesty. He valued good and true communication, he did not have the time and patience when it came to mind games, especially when it came towards the things and people that mattered to him.

And against his better judgment, you had managed to carve yourself deep into his heart. He did not understand how or why it happened, it just did. It was cruel, how you avoided him. It felt as though you grabbed a sharp blade and stabbed him straight into his chest, the air being knocked out of lungs every single time you would reject his advances.

But what stung most of all was the fact that you were as a matter of fact, not honest with him.

He could tell that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. If you truly wished to do nothing with him, you would be much harsher towards him. He knew you were not a pushover, you could take care of yourself and yet he still wished to take care of you. The lingering touches, the longing gazes, the way in which your hand fit so perfectly in his own was otherworldly. You were made specifically for him and him only. He could not have crafted a person so perfect, someone who both satisfies and calms him.

Someone who makes him feel human.

Reaching out towards you Tartaglia took your wrist and held it close. He pressed the palm of your hand against his chest, straight against his heart and he kept you there, his blue eyes piercing your own.

You belonged to him. He belonged to you.

He cursed the fact that he was a Harbinger. If he was not in the Fatui, he was sure that the two of you would already be together. That was the only reason you avoided him, the fear of being associated with someone like him was too great.

And he could not fault you for that.

Salty tears clouded your vision as you stared at the handsome man, his back straight like the soldier that he was. Everything about him was prim and proper, but in a deadly way, like a weapon ready for the bloodiest battle.

"You are a killer." you said, voice quivering and yet still giving into his touch.

"I am." he confessed. There was no point in denying it, he could not hide anything from you.

He did not want to hide anything. Not anymore.

Standing before you was not Tartaglia, Childe, the 11th Fatui Harbinger. In this very sacred moment he laid himself for you, his soul and heart bared completely for you and no one else. He was being selfish, so horribly selfish. But damn it all, he wanted you. His ambitions were sky high but he could not give you up.

He did not want anyone else by his side. It was going to be either you or no one.

His lips hovered over your own, threatening to steal the many kisses he promised to claim a long time ago.

You were not sure if you could stop him.

"You are not a creature capable of such love."

"I can learn. For you."

There it was, that horrible confidence, dare you say arrogance even. Who did he think he is? How dare he do this to you - waltzing in your life and staking his claim to your heart? You wanted to slap him, to kick him, to show him just how angry you were. You wanted to cry and yell and to kiss him. You wanted to leave him breathless, to make him ache for you but was it worth it? To leave everything you knew, your whole life behind to go see the world with this man, this glorious, wonderful man?

Knowing him, he would take your beating without any complaints.

It was hard to be in love. But it was even harder to love a man like him.

#genshin impact #childe #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia #genshin #genshin harbingers #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #gi tartaglia

[strniohoeee]

I need and angry love confession from Matt to Reader !! super angst but ends in fluff

I can’t

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: You moved on and now you’re soon to be engaged, but Matt knows this isn’t right. Desperate to get you to change your mind he races over to you. But will he get there in time?

Warning⚠️: NONE, I lovedddd writing this ughhh😩😩got me all in my feels and shit😔

Song for the imagine: Chasing Cars- Snow Patrol

I don’t quite know

How to say

How I feel

Those three words

Are said too much

They’re not enough

I’m not sure how to explain it and I’m not sure that I’d ever be able to. I never planned to see myself with anyone else other than Matt, but here I was sitting in my makeup room with a dazzling diamond promise ring sitting on my ring finger.

It felt right? I mean I wasn’t sure how to feel actually. A million questions ran through my head and they all tied to Matt for some reason.

I left Matt a little over a year ago after being with him for two years. I felt like I treated him wrong, I felt like I held him back from what he wanted…..

Flashback

“What are you saying?” Matt asked me as he stood up from the couch

“ I’m breaking up with you Matt” I replied looking at him

His face dropped and he swallowed thickly

“You’re what?” He replied blinking fastly

“I’m holding you back Matt and I haven’t been the best girlfriend. I can not live with myself knowing that there’s someone out there better for you” I replied swallowing back a sob

“I don’t want no one else, I want you. Why can’t you see that? You always tear down the perfect things around you.” He said rubbing his face with his hand

“I’m not happy because I’m not making you happy” I replied

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel. I love you and I love us and sure we have our problems, but I can’t imagine a life without you” he said slapping his hand down on his leg

“That’s the issue, all these problems are because of me. Matt you have to let me go” I said shaking my head

“I can’t! I can’t let you go” he replied rushing up to me and grabbing my hands

“This hurts me too, but I don’t think we’re for each other anymore” I said letting a few tears slip

“No….please don’t do this to me” he said in a whisper

“I love you, but I can’t keep holding you down. I’m sorry” I told him

“You’re not! Please just stay and relax and we can talk this out” he said looking into my eyes and gripping my hands firmer

“Matthew….no this is over” I replied sliding my hands from his and walking back

“Please don’t leave me” he pleaded with tears in his eyes

“I have to” I replied and with that I walked out

Flashback Over

For a while my thoughts were clouded with many doubts. Wondering if I made the wrong decision. But as soon as we broke up Matt and his brother's careers took off even more. Further proving it was me who needed to go.

But sitting here right now with this ring on my finger my brain told me that Matt and I were completely over. Nothing more than mere memory, a glimpse into a great time in my life, but it was over.

I loved my boyfriend more than words could explain and this ring finalized that it was him who I would spend the rest of my life with.

Him and I had posted our pre engagement on Instagram explaining that this was a small step in me eventually becoming his wife. It was a bittersweet moment because this was a new chapter in my life and I had to look forward. However for some reason I was constantly looking back….

Matt's POV

I laid in my bed journaling when my phone started to ring. I looked down and saw it Chris calling me

“Yo?” I said as I placed the phone to my ear

“Did you see it?” He asked me

“See what? Chris what the fuck are you talking about?” I asked furrowing my brows and shutting my book

“Y/N…” he said and paused

“Is she okay?” I asked suddenly sitting up

“Yeah she’s fine, but she’s pretty much engaged” Chris said in a whisper

“What?” I replied

My heart dropped to my stomach as my throat ran dry.

“Yeah they posted it on Instagram. I’m sorry bro” he said clearing his throat

I didn’t even reply, I just hung up on him. Opening instagram I searched up her page and I let out a small gasp and the picture…..reading the caption made my skin crawl

I grabbed my keys and rushed out the house. Running out to my car in the rain. My mind raced as I hit the gas. Doing 80 in the rain as my breathing became erratic and my fist tightened on the grip

Y/N pov

I walked out of my makeup room and walked out to my living room. Peering outside I saw that it was raining. My heart burst with excitement.

I decided to sit in my glass lanai and watch the rain hit the roof. Smiling at how happy I was becoming and how content I felt in life right now.

I stood by one of the windows writing my name in the fog that crackled along the glass. Suddenly I heard the door open and a creak of someone’s foot stepping down

“Hey babe” I replied before turning around

My heart dropped when a soaking wet, crying and shivering Matt stood in front of me.

“Matt?” I said blinking quickly

“Don’t do this” he said shaking

“Matt you’re wet and cold” I said walking up to him

“DON’T” he said sternly causing me to look up at him and stepping back

“How did you even get in here” I said sternly

“Your hiding spot for the key hasn’t changed” he said bluntly

“Why are you here?” I said scoffing

“So that’s it? You’re just going to marry him” he replied

“You’re talking crazy Matt what’s going on” I said getting concerned

“I waited…. I waited for you praying you’d come back. Having to go through days of being so unhappy and angry, and for what? For you to spend all this time and energy on someone new and get married? What was I? What was I huh?” He said choking out a sob as his voice cracked

“I loved you and I had the best time with you, but it wasn’t going to work and with Y/BF/N it worked” I said swallowing thickly

“You gave up! You gave up on us… that could’ve been us but you chose to run” he said breathing heavily

“I didn’t give up, I did it for you! Can’t you see that?” I said pleading

“I can’t” he said

“Let’s go inside you’re shivering” I replied pointing to the door

“NO” he replied choking out another sob

“Matt, what do you want me to do?” I said getting teary eyed

“I want you to be honest with yourself” he replied

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at” I replied throwing my hands up

“Goddamnit Y/N! I love you! I have loved you. I let you into my life in a way I never did with anyone else. I loved you to the point of distraction, and you dropped me like I was nothing. I can not pretend that didn’t happen” he said loudly

“You love me?” I replied shocked by this

“Hasn’t it always been obvious? I begged you not to leave me and you did. And now you’re basically engaged to this guy, so like I said be honest with yourself” he said pointing at me

“Honest about what?” I replied raising my voice

“Your feelings” he said bluntly

“My feelings? The fact that I’m in love with my new boyfriend and we’re going to get married eventually?” I replied talking with my hands

“That’s bullshit” he said bluntly

“No it’s not matt” I replied back

“Yes it is” he said pushing back

“No it isn’t” I said sternly

“Just admit” he said pushing even harder now

“ADMIT WHAT?” I yelled at him throwing my hands up

“You know what…it’s creeping in the back of your mind consuming all your thoughts” he said breathing through his nose heavily

“I can’t” I said shaking my head

“You can’t or you won’t” he replied

“Jesus Matt! What do you want me to admit? Admit that I’m madly in love with you? Admit that the thought of marrying my boyfriend scares me. Scares me because it’s supposed to be you. Is that what you want to hear” I said yelling

“Was it that hard” he replied

“What have you done” I said looking at him wide eyed

“This wasn’t me….this was you” he replied

I stomped over to him pushing him back repeatedly

“Who do you think you are? Huh? You think you can just come back into my life and push all these things on me. How could you Matt” I said smacking at his chest in anger

“Stop it! STOP IT” he said grabbing my arms firmly

“LET ME GO” I yelled pulling against him but he was much stronger than me

Pulling against him as we were both breathing heavily. I stopped and stared at him letting air come out my nose as my chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Why?” I whispered tears brimming in my eyes

“WHY HUH? WHY?” I yelled against him pulling at my arms

Yet he didn’t say anything. Instead he let me freak out, watching me intently as his eyes were glazed over with tears threatening to spill out.

“Stop fighting it” he said in a whisper

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! I was supposed to forget about you. I was supposed to move on. You were supposed to move on” I said slowing my breathing down

“I never wanted to move on, and I never will” he replied back

“I have always loved you from the moment I bumped into you on that street to the day you walked out of my life. I prayed day in and day out you’d come back and you didn’t” he said letting go of my arms

“Matt I can’t do this, not to you, not to me and especially not to Y/BF/N” I replied wiping my eyes

“So then don’t marry him” he said pleading with me

“Matt I can’t do that” I replied shaking my head

“He’s not meant for you and I’d like to believe….I’d have to believe that if you knew that…. I mean really really knew that deep in your heart. You wouldn’t be getting ready to marry someone unless that someone….unless that someone was me” he said swallowing thickly and letting a few tears fall

I stared at him shocked before opening my mouth to speak

“Matt I’m not going to lie to you, yeah I have felt things since breaking up with you that I didn’t know or think I knew I could feel, but I have realized you can’t just turn back the hands of time” I replied running my hands through my hair

“Why not?” He said in a whisper

“Because I moved on….you were supposed to move on. We’ve gone down different paths. We made choices and I….I chose Y/BF/N” I said wiping my eyes

Matt licked his lips and jutted his pointed tongue to the inside of his mouth. Letting a choked sob fall from his mouth.

“Can’t you see? Even after letting you go and trying to do what’s best for you, I still am somehow hurting you. Please don’t cry” I said pacing a bit

“I’ll be fine… I promise” he said rolling his eyes letting the tears go back

“I love you Matt” I said walking up to him and grabbing his shoulders

“No you don’t, if you did you’d be with me” he said scoffing and shrugging my hands off

“It doesn’t work that way” I said shaking my head

“Doesn’t work that way? I just professed my love to you as you did the same, but still you’re going to marry someone else?” He replied getting upset again

“That’s not fair” I said blinking at him

“Whatever…I’ve wasted my time clearly” he said throwing his hands up

He began to walk back into my house. I trailed close behind him calling out his name.

“Matthew please” I said running a bit faster

I got in front of him, grabbing his upper arms and stopping him. Looking into his eyes searching for something. Searching for an answer to this complicated puzzle.

My breathing became rapid as I searched for the words to say. Matt got clearly impatient as his jaw was clenched and his glare was intense. My eyes darted from one eye to the other.

I let go of him blinking and swallowing thickly before opening my mouth.

“Matt I love you a lot, and that never went away. I never wanted to hurt you, but rather I wanted you to get stronger. I was holding you down and that you can not deny. I have realized that the way I went about it was wrong and I hurt you, but I also hurt myself. I truly wanted to heal myself and not look back, but everyday all I could think about was you. Yes Y/BF/N is amazing and a great guy but I just…..I just…..” my words began to scramble because I wasn’t sure how to say this next statement

“But you don’t love him” he said in a whisper

My eyes slowly lifted from the floor to meet his once again, nodding at his answer

“I don’t love him” I said swallowing thickly

“If I’m reading into this wrong then I’m sorry” he said and before I could react he suddenly lunged toward me

Smashing his lips into mine, his right hand finding its spot on my left cheek. His thumb gently rubbed the warm skin as our lips locked.

My mind was fuzzy with what was going on, but all I knew was that this felt so right. Like the stars aligning perfectly. What I was so unsure of with my current boyfriend I was 100% sure of with Matt.

When he pulled away we locked eyes, catching our breath as we smiled gently

“I’m so sorry for leaving you” I said in a whisper

“Just promise to never do it again” he said

“I promise” I said smiling at him

Matt grabbed the back of my head, pulling me into a hug before placing a kiss to my forehead.

Breaking things off with Y/BF/N wasn’t easy. I truly had some love for him, but not in the way I did for Matt. Matt was my soulmate and I was so dumb to turn a blind eye to it.

I made him understand that this wasn’t because of him, but because I wasn’t ever truly sure that we were meant for each other. And that the promise ring made it all a bit too real. In the sense that I could not see myself with him forever.

Matt and I took things slow, we reestablished a connection starting off as friends first was what we wanted. We didn’t want to see each other hurt ever again.

I can’t live with the idea of ever hurting him again… I just…

I can’t.

The End

I hope yall loved this one, it was giving very early 2000s love confession in the rain. I’m here for itttt, but we’re almost at 1,800 followers OH YEAHHH i love yall🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo imagines

[oncasette]

BON TEMPS, LOUISIANA. send in a character from my guide + a concept for a drabble!

hiiiii rom ♡ i’m very excited for you celebration! happy belated birthday and congratulations on 3k, you deserve it so so so much!!!!!

eddie munson + friends to lovers, shy!reader’s first kiss.

if anyone were to ask what you were thinking about right now, you'd have to lie. you'd have to think up something perfectly believable and inconspicuous to hide the fact that the only thing currently scouring in the depths of your brain were vivid images of what it'd feel like to kiss your best friend.

but luckily, there wasn't anyone else there. except eddie. and his perfectly full, pink, improbably kissable lips. you think he's caught on by the way he's looking at you. hope he hasn't, hope to hell he hasn't noticed where your eyes have lingered, but think it's impossible for him not to have.

"penny for your thoughts?" he asks, pulling you from your current daydream. you wonder when he'd moved so close to you. not ten minutes ago he'd been at the other end of the bed, shoved up against the headboard fiddling with his guitar and now he was less than a couple inches away. your breath hitches involuntarily.

"nothing," you huff. you force your gaze away from him, opting to look at the van halen poster tacked up above his dresser instead.

"doesn't seem like nothing," he says. "why are you keeping secrets from me?"

"i'm not!" you squeak. "i swear i'm not, it's nothing."

he leans closer. you can practically feel his nose brushing against your hair. maybe you're imagining that though. another one of your daydreams.

"sweetheart," he says. his voice has dropped an octave. it's lost that playful lilt. "would it help if i went first?"

"eddie?" you exhale.

"yeah?" you give into his pull and turn your head to look back at your best friend. he's not even hiding the way his eyes have locked on your mouth. they flicked up, for a second, to see where your own eyes have wandered off to. of course, they're where they always are.

"tell me... tell me if this is too much," he whispers. "okay?"

you nod. you don't have the ability to trust your voice in this moment.

you almost think you're dreaming again. that you're lost in thought and the second you blink eddie will be back at the edge of the bed with his notebook in his lap, scribbling away at the song he'd been working on for the last couple of days.

but he isn't. he's inches away, leaning in, lips brushing over yours. heat overcomes you, burning the tip of your nose and the edges of your ears.

you see white when he finally kisses you. his lips aren't as soft as you had imagine, more chapped and rough as they mold against yours, but it's just as perfect.

#r's 3k #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy!reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader

[coffeexafterxmidnight]

The Token Human - Part 3

Hi y'all, me again back with part 3 of this... adventure, let's call it that. Sorry for not posting this yesterday but I had a random Depression Day and couldn't get much done. I seem to be doing better though so, let's hope I don't have another one of those days for a week or so.

Part 1 Part 2 CW: nothing too bad this time! Just Wally having no sense of personal space, and stalking. And memory alteration, too. [what does it say about this fic that this stuff is 'not too bad'?]

You couldn't help it, you were a little jealous…

From your spot under a friendly tree, you watched Eddie on his daily route. He looked up from the envelopes in his hand. With a smile, he waved at you. You waved back. 

Eddie was a good guy, a friend of yours for sure. It wasn't his fault, not at all.

No, it was no one's fault, probably…

But as Eddie so stopped by Julie's house, three letters in hand, you had to look away. Something bitter chewed at you.

Why didn't you get any letters?

Seemed like everyone in the neighborhood got them. Family members and distant friends, pen pals from far away, even each other. But your mailbox remained only full of dust and longing.

Hard to think of who you'd want to get a letter from though. Your own family… you didn't want to think about that, for some reason that made you sad. Old friends… that made you sad, too.

You sighed and leaned against the tree, messing with the friendship bracelet Wally gave you. He made them with Barnaby and gave one to everyone. He even put yours on himself because you couldn't figure it out. The memory of his little nimble fingers brushing against your wrist still stuck out at you. Why did you always remember the weird stuff?

Wally wasn't around right now. You glance towards Home, in the center of town. Wally was busy inside his Home. Wally hadn't talked to you in a few days, really deep in painting. You wondered before if he was angry with you, but you hadn't done anything, not on that day or any other. Baking cookies with Poppy wasn't a bad thing. You'd even offered him some…

Wally was busy inside his Home. Everyone was having fun on their own.

I'm going to write a letter, you thought, and stood. That sounds like the absolute most.

Humming a cheery little song as you walked down the street to your house, you thought about who you'd send a letter to. Your parents? You didn't know their address. Some distant friend? You didn't know any of those either. Someone in town? You chuckle at the thought. Wouldn't that be funny, sending a letter to someone you saw every day.

In your house you found both paper and envelopes. You couldn't really remember when you got them - did someone bring them over for crafts? Were they part of Howdy's welcome to Home gift basket? Hard to say…

But you found paper and envelopes and stamps and a pen. You sat at your favorite desk, your only desk, and hovered the pen over the page.

Pause for a second. What were you going to say? What were you going to tell this person, someone you hadn't even decided on? Someone you might not even know. Someone… outside of Home…

It's a long shot, you thought. Your fingers clutched the pen until your hand shook. Such a long shot. If you screwed this up, you'd probably not get another chance.

It was a long shot but maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

You clutched at the memories with all your might. There had to be someone who remembered you, even if you didn't remember them. There had to be someone who could help you, out there.

The picture formed in your mind's eye, so clear, so perfect, the person you wanted to talk to more than anyone else…

Two arms locked around your body, pinning your arms to your sides. Cold sweat broke out on your forehead.

"You think too loud, neighbor," Wally said into your ear. "I could hear you from inside my Home."

He rested a fuzzy cheek on your shoulder and sighed.

"You were thinking of leaving again, weren't you?" He said.

You didn't speak, the words locked up in your throat. 

"I don't like it when my friends leave. At least, I think I don't. It's never happened before. Isn't that silly? Home is such a nice place, nobody who comes here ever wants to leave…"

The grip on you tightened.

"Except for you." 

The name slipped from your mouth. 

"Wally…"

"I think," Wally said, pressing up against the back of the chair, "You don't really understand. Home is great! Home is safe, and fun, and happy. Don't you want to be happy?"

A hand, too large, too long, gripped your chin.

"We could be happy here forever, and ever, and ever. You and me and all our friends. Why don't you want that? Why don't you want to stay with me?"

A felt finger traced the line around your lips, and your stomach churned, you squirmed in discomfort.

"There's nowhere to go, anyway. Silly, silly."

He pressed his cheek against yours. Your eyes watered.

"I'm all there is now," Wally said, "I made sure of it."

Your eyes went wide.

"What - what did you-"

His hand covered your mouth. The felt was soft. His grip was too, too strong. You struggled. A memory washed over you, Wally singing as he dragged you down a dark hall, Home creaking, squeaking, as you struggled struggled struggled struggled

"Wake up!"

Your eyes snapped open. Julie let out a cheer and wrapped her arms around your disoriented self. You raised a hand to your head, blinking in the sunlight. You were under your favorite tree, Julie and Frank on either side of you, Julie hugging you still, Frank adjusting his tie the way he did when he was composing himself.

"What happened?" You looked around.

"You were having a nightmare!" Julie said. "You fell asleep under the tree again!"

"I did?" You looked at your two small friends. "That was silly of me."

"What were you dreaming about?" Frank asked.

You stopped, thought about it. What were you dreaming about, that got you all scared like you were…?

"... I don't remember," you lied. "The last thing I remember thinking about was writing a letter to someone…"

"That's a great idea!" Julie shouted. "We can all write letters to each other."

"Tomorrow," Frank interrupted. "Some of us like to get sleep when it's dark."

As the two continued to bicker, you looked up towards the street. There he stood, your best friend Wally. He smiled at you. You tried to smile back, even as your pulse tripped and quickened in your body. 

Wally isn't your friend, where did you hear that from? Wally isn't your friend, but he'd never hurt you. Wally isn't your friend… but if he wasn't, then what was he?

He blinked at you, and you blinked back. What were you thinking about again?

After you left, walking Frank and Julie down the street, Wally threw himself down in the spot you'd been in before. It didn't smell like you. It didn't smell like much of anything but grass and dirt, and fresh leaves, but that was okay. He knew what you smelled like better than you did. And it was just the absolute most, just like you were.

He smiled. Thinking about you made him warm inside, happier than anyone ever had before. When he closed his eyes, he could see you so easily, around town, with your friends, in your bed, fast asleep and safe from the world. He liked those little moments best, when it was just you and him. When you shivered under the covers, he tucked you in. When your eyes flooded like little faucets, he wiped the water away. He sat next to you for hours and hours, never bored, not once. And when he had to go, he kissed your forehead, just like family did, before heading back Home again.

Oh, Wally wasn't stupid. He'd done a bad thing. But maybe, it was okay to do something bad, if it meant something good would come out of it?

And Wally - Wally loved you so much. So much more than anyone you knew back there. How to show it, he didn't know. How to make you feel it, he wasn't sure either. But there had to be a way, right? Someday you'd love him too, just as much as he loved you.

He had to keep telling himself that. If he didn't, he might do something scary. Something bad. And he couldn't eat your memories away for good, not like the others. He could eat and eat and eat, but yours always, always, came back.

Wally thought about the look on your face, how you trembled and your eyes got all wet and scared. He smiled, even though it was sad. Maybe that was his fault. Maybe he didn't want you to forget. It was wrong but… he liked it, when you were scared. Your fear tasted so, so good…

The sun slipped down the sky and you would crawl into bed after everyone else did. And when you did, he would be waiting. 

#welcome home x reader #welcome home fanfic #welcome home wally #welcome home #welcome home arg #yandere wally darling #wally darling x reader

[velvetcloxds]

GONE | E.M.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: written before the inspo guy totally ruined this concept for me, how very fitting the first title was inspired by that song

summary: your dad made it clear you and eddie weren't allowed to even see each other, let alone talk to each other, eddie takes the risk to come and surprise you on valentines day

previous parts: linger | fleeting

You were frustrated to be at work, it was odd being at another building while someone else was trying to use your system and clear a mess you’d already tried to clean only to be taken away from it before it was done. You got constant calls from your dad, questions which prompted you to drop everything and solve their problems even while not there. More than anything you were back to the realization that this job absolutely sucked, Eddie had been enough of a distraction to help you forget all of that. Your dad declared a strictly no communication order between you and Eddie, he’d found him with a hand on your shoulder, leaning over you to check the booking list and it was like all the little puzzle pieces fell into place and he realized the two of you were actually not just good at working together.

In a perfect world, you’d riot, and rebel against the notion but you knew better, you weren’t supposed to get close to Eddie in the first place, to anyone who works with or for your parents. It made total sense, you knew as much, he reminded you about how being his daughter meant that you weren’t just a girl working with a boy your age and being too friendly about it, you were creating a weakness in the business, and it might seem all nice and dandy for the time being, but people change, motives change.

It was engrained in your head to consider the family, protect the brand, the name, you’d never even looked at any of the other workers too friendly for that very reason, but Eddie snuck up on you. He made you feel your age, made you feel like just a girl who got a crush on a boy who was sweet to her despite herself and what started as you being sure he was just a friend, there was now a little ache in your heart that made you realize it definitely wasn’t the case. With Eddie you felt normal, just a girl, not your parents’ keeper, not the household emotional manager, just a girl who could smile at a boy and shrink instantly when he smiled back at you.

So, you’d survived a week without him, and all the emotions he’d managed to stir up in you and made it all the way to Valentine's Day, a horrendous day in a normal year, an absolute nightmare when your heart felt like it was in mourning. You’d still put on your pretty red dress and put some fresh flowers in your hair and did your makeup all pretty, only now it was only the cleaners and the guests and the little birds that stopped by at lunch that got to see it- not your guy, your Eddie. You had to delete his number just to stop yourself from talking to him, remind yourself to act casually whenever your phone chimed and you thought just maybe he was talking to you instead, had to keep a hand on your leg to stop it from jumping up and down. It got to the point where you were happy to be called to the basement to check on some sort of water leak, at least you wouldn’t have to think about him anymore.

It didn’t help, the road was there too long, you got to thinking about what he’d tell you if he was there, if he’d have been a little cuter on such a day, if he’d already found himself a cute girl to spend the day with instead, wondered if he’d seen your love day post on someone else’s phone.

“Careful,” you thought you’d reached peak desperation when you heard his voice, but your mind wasn’t actually playing tricks on you, because it was actually him who moved you out of harm’s way, one hand on your elbow pulling you from a bunch of paint cans, the other holding onto a single red rose. “What, I leave you alone for one week and you succumb to your terrible ways?” he didn’t make much of a show about handing you the flower, shrugged when your eyes met, and smiled when you sniffed it.

“Eddie,” you wanted to thank him actually, told him how glad you were to see him, wonder out loud if he missed you at all as much as you missed him. “What are you doing here?” his face fell, you didn’t mean for it to, but if someone saw him here, saw him with you, if it got back to your dad your next move would be right out of a job. “If my dad-“

“I know, I know,” he shrugged again, you didn’t like it, he wasn’t wearing his smile nearly as well as he used to, it wasn’t nearly as genuine. “Look, consider it a platonic, strictly professional visit.” Liar. He pulled something from his back pocket, pages folded in half, completely skewed, somehow a perfect representation of him. “I just had to drop off some paperwork for you,”  when he opened it you nearly swallowed your tongue, it was one of your short stories, his handwriting in the margins, a bright yellow highlighter used to highlight some parts, you had no idea what to do next.

“Where on earth did you get that?” you gasped, very unladylike when you snapped it from his hand, it was somehow turned into a work of art now, his words and your own, you’d never even allowed anyone to read what you wrote let alone have someone react like this to it.

“I have my ways,” the smile snuck through, the good one, the one that made you gooey. “Listen, I figured if I can’t actually hear your voice I might as well get to hear the next best thing,” he tapped the top of the paper. “You’re really good, you know, don’t know why you’re hiding that from us common folk,” the compliment was completely sincere, but it made you snap back to reality.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you caught him off guard, made him waver in his usual ways because you’d never spoken to him like that, so few words but so somber, he’d never been the one to prompt them from you, he hated it. “I didn’t even think about how this could turn into such a big dramatic thing- you were just so easy to be around, to exist with, made me feel so human, so safe- I didn’t think we’d get into so much trouble for it.”

“I’m easy to be around?” he scoffed, leaned back against some stacks of tables, eyes ever dreamy as he looked you over. “Don’t think I’ve felt so comforted just being with someone ever before, warmth literally fills the air around you, if anyone should apologize for not being weary it should be me- should’ve known that being friends with you would be hard enough.”

“A bunch of idiots, we were,” you sighed, and you allowed yourself another moment of selfishness when you went to stand next to him, sighed again when your arms squeezed against each other, braced yourself before resting your head on his shoulder. “First guy I ever liked like this, and you just had to work for my dad and ruin it all.”

“Tell me about it, a guy falls for a girl like you, and she just has to be related to the jerk who signs his checks,” he lingered, paused before he let his hand brush against yours, sighed shakily when he rested his head on top of yours. “Shit, I really liked you, you know.”

“I really did like you too, never expected you’d break my heart before I even had the chance to give it to you,” he wasn’t sure how to reply to that, the thought of being given your heart was absolutely insane, a heart like that, so bruised yet so trusting of all he was, what kind of guy would be lucky enough to have the chance to hold onto it.

“Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart,” he breathed, and you were looking at the rose he’d given you as if you expected something of it, all the answers to your situation, a promise that this wasn’t the end of what could’ve been something so amazing if everything was just so completely different.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie,” you sighed, placed the flower right back into his hand, and reminded yourself that you just had to make it to the bathroom before you’d allow yourself to cry- it represented him so well, so beautiful, so lovely, but you couldn’t let anyone see you with it, couldn’t hold onto it even if you wanted.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson ff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic

[velvet4510]

Ok this is the most random Frodo/Sam thing to be talking about but I must say it.

In the book, two of Frodo’s lines “it did not sound like the old Sam Gamgee he thought he knew” and “[Sam] was a conspirator, and now he’s a jester!” are among my absolute favorites, yet I’ve read a few interpretations of these moments that are so bizarre I feel I must defend and point out their real meaning.

A few chapter-by-chapter analyses/reviews of LOTR that I’ve read, including some on this site, seem to think that Frodo is being condescending here, that because Sam is his servant, he’s surprised to find out that Sam has “actual opinions about things and actual talents other than gardening.”

Clearly these people don’t understand Frodo. Frodo is not condescending towards anyone! That’s one of his best qualities - he treats everyone with respect. Sam and his father both point out how Frodo, like Bilbo, has always treated them with kindness and thoughtfulness.

These lines certainly have a lot to do with the social barrier between Frodo and Sam, but it’s not because of any biases on Frodo’s part. It’s because Frodo and Sam are not close friends. Frodo’s besties are Merry and Pippin, and Sam’s besties are the Cottons. They’re not buddies who hang out and chat all the time at this point. Until now, Sam has always worked outside while Frodo is either inside or lost in thought in a book outside. They’re quite friendly with each other, but they’re not close. At this point there is still a LOT they don’t know about each other. Another reason for this is that Shire life is practically routine. Things are always the same, day by day, and there’s not much opportunity for hobbits to discuss things that are unusual or uncommon to them.

Tolkien wrote these moments to show how Shire simplicity plus the class system has prevented Frodo and Sam from being able to fully know each other. And it’s when they leave the Shire and its class system behind that Frodo learns more about Sam.

Plus don’t forget that most hobbits don’t like things that are different. At all. They dismiss anything they don’t understand. Sam has been wondering about Elves for a long time, but when they actually meet Elves, Frodo is naturally assuming/worrying that Sam will change his mind and be like everyone else. He’s thinking “now that he sees just how different they are from what we’re used to, he’ll stop liking them.” And why wouldn’t he believe this? 98% of hobbits think this way about things that are different. This is why Frodo has never fit in and has been outcast and considered “odd.” He feels like there’s nobody besides Merry and Pippin who share his curiosity about new things. And Sam’s father is so set in his ways and indifferent toward what he doesn’t understand, so why wouldn’t Sam feel the same? Frodo doesn’t know Sam well enough at this point to assume any differently.

This is why I just cannot get enough of that “it did not sound like the old Sam Gamgee he thought he knew” line. It’s just like that classic moment in love stories where one realizes they didn’t really know the other at all but is now discovering they have something special in common. Frodo worries that Sam will dismiss the Elves… but instead, Sam says something very insightful and deep about them. Sam struggles to word what he means, but Frodo gets it. And he’s amazed. It hits him that Sam is different too, like him. Sam is actually interested in foreign things and thinks deeply and critically about them, just like Frodo. Sam is a kindred spirit, and Frodo is amazed. IMO, THIS is the moment where Frodo develops deeper feelings for Sam. He discovers that Sam thinks on the same wavelength that he does.

The same thing happens when Frodo says the “jester” line. He says this after Sam spontaneously invents and sings the song about trolls. Improvising an entire song on the spot, with perfect rhymes and all, isn’t exactly something that everyone can do. I certainly couldn’t do that. That takes a certain gift. Sam’s place in the class system has nothing to do with it. There are plenty of rich snobs in the Shire who could never improvise a troll song if their lives depended on it. Trolls are foreign to the Shire and yet another thing hobbits don’t really understand, but not only that, rhyming is just plain HARD. And here Sam does it like a pro. Of course Frodo is impressed. Don’t tell me you weren’t impressed when you first read this part in the book, and I bet you weren’t looking down on Sam for being the servant. Actually this scene shows Frodo giving Sam more respect than Pippin does. Pippin asks “where did you hear that?” assuming Sam heard the song from someone else. Only Frodo can tell that Sam made it up himself. (Side note: there’s another similar moment with Pippin earlier. Pippin orders Sam to make breakfast like one would order a servant; Frodo punishes Pippin for this rudeness by yanking Pippin’s blanket away and rolling him over. Of course Sam doesn’t mind cooking at all and would’ve done it even if Pippin hadn’t asked, but that scene, though subtle, shows Frodo doesn’t like anyone talking to Sam that way. Frodo himself never orders Sam to do anything. My point holds up.)

And it goes both ways. The horrors of the Quest cause Sam to see new depths to Frodo that he never saw before. He sees Frodo’s incredible endurance against both the Wraith wound and the Ring. He sees Frodo’s incredible nobleness and bravery, choosing to take on the burden of the Ring himself. Normal life in the Shire could never have brought out these qualities in Frodo for Sam to see. Sam, too, has a lot to learn about Frodo, and the Quest lets him see Frodo at his best and at his worst.

And everything they learn about each other only makes them love each other more and more.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #samfro #lotr books #lord of the rings #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #frodo x sam #sam x frodo #samfrodo #the fellowship of the ring #frodo and sam