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#and it broke my heart a little because like YES god yes so much. so much do i love you.
diffenbachiae · 8 months
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i have to resist the urge to tell my friends & loved ones i love them like every single time i see their face and i know i’m being weird about it, like i’m not supposed to say it as often as i do/ in front of as many people, but i genuinely don’t understand how i’m supposed to not say it when it’s all i feel. and it makes me sad too bc that makes me think maybe i feel it stronger than most people? and that can’t be true but like how is everyone else not BURSTING to say and express it.
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he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.
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jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).
(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).
since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.
when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.
it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.
it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.
but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.
"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.
and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"
his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?
understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."
he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"
how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?
"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.
he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."
and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.
"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.
you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.
"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"
your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.
his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."
you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.
"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.
"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"
despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.
"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."
his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."
that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.
at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.
but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.
and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"
your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"
her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."
you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."
your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"
you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.
"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"
"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.
"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.
"being forgotten?" your friend asked.
"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.
"you look like you have someone in mind."
a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.
"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.
you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.
"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.
"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."
and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.
you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.
his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"
you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.
"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"
he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.
the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.
you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"
from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.
one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.
"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."
"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.
"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."
you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."
"we miss you so much. see you soon?"
you agreed, thanked her for her help.
"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."
having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.
"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.
"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."
the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.
very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.
you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.
they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."
"what if he's not interested?"
"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."
"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"
your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"
so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.
when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.
you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.
you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.
you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.
a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.
a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.
your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.
you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.
you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.
the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.
"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.
"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"
your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."
you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.
he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"
you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.
during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.
"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.
the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.
even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.
with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.
the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?
"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.
jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.
his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."
with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.
"have a game, sugar, here we go."
you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.
bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.
jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.
his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.
for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.
"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.
you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.
"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.
you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?
"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.
his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.
you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"
without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.
on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.
"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.
"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.
you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.
everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.
so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?
you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.
his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."
"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."
he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."
you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.
you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.
you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.
his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.
the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.
surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.
you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.
the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.
he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.
you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.
"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.
he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"
you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.
the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.
one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.
"alright," you chastised.
"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."
your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.
"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.
"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."
you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.
pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.
you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.
and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?
i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.
careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?
your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.
but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.
the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.
a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.
"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.
"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.
he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."
the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.
"what?" he said, grinning.
you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."
and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.
he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.
what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.
"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.
his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.
you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.
that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.
and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"
and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.
you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.
"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.
and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.
maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.
"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.
"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."
you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.
and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.
too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.
"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.
so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.
your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.
a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.
"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.
it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.
he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."
you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.
"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.
you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.
and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.
you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.
jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"
you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."
his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.
you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"
"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.
he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.
you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.
when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.
"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.
you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.
but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.
as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.
"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.
deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.
and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.
after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.
later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.
after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.
kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.
he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.
his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.
when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.
he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.
you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.
"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.
you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.
you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.
but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.
you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.
the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.
while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.
then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.
you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.
walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.
"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.
his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.
you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.
this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.
"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.
"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.
"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.
he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.
he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.
he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.
you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.
he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.
you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."
you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.
he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.
he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.
"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.
one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.
he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."
"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.
jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."
when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.
"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.
you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.
luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.
you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.
most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.
"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.
the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.
walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.
"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.
he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.
you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.
jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.
you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.
something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.
"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.
you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.
"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.
"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.
you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"
he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.
would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?
the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.
a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.
jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.
"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.
your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.
you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.
the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.
you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."
he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.
as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?
the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.
you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.
it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.
you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.
you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.
"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."
later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.
but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.
"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.
"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.
"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.
you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.
he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.
you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.
"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.
"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"
you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.
you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.
staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.
he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.
you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.
"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."
you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."
never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."
he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.
"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."
the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.
his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"
you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.
"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"
you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.
he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.
everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.
you should have known it wouldn't last long.
a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.
something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.
maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.
and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.
and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.
a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?
it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.
but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.
and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.
it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.
so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.
still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.
the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.
at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.
"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.
he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."
and that had been the end of that.
so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.
you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.
you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.
"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."
you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.
"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.
he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"
you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."
seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.
and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.
every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.
he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.
he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.
when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.
"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.
when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.
how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?
jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.
you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.
you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.
of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.
until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.
you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.
the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.
the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.
like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.
slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.
it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.
because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.
finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.
in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.
waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.
you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.
"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.
you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.
"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.
you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.
auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."
and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.
the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.
time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.
you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.
you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."
for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.
you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.
you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.
for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.
"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.
you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.
he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"
you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.
"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."
you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.
you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.
"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.
"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.
"yes."
"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.
you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."
there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."
you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."
he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."
you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."
he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.
so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.
he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.
and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.
"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."
he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.
you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."
in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.
when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."
it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.
"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.
you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.
"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.
and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.
it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.
he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.
"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.
"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."
you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.
you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.
you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.
you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.
you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.
"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."
there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.
he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.
that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.
"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.
fin.
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dazed--xx · 6 months
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SKZ Reaction: He hurts the reader (Hyung Line)
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A/N: GUESS WHOS BACK?! BACK AGAIN DAZED IS BACK TELL A FRIEND GUESS WHOS BACK GUESS WHOS BACK GUESS WHOS BACK….a little short one I was able to come up with for this request. I hope y’all missed me as much as I missed y’all. I was uninspired recently but I’ve found my inspiration and I’m not as depressed as I once was so I felt it was only right to give y’all what you wanted. Also Minhos is implied Yandere
Masterlist
Chan:
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“You’re fucking kidding me right?!” You argue, frustration bubbling in your stomach as the image of the trainee seated comfortably on Chan’s lap flashes in your memory. He shakes his head, his eyes rolling in annoyance, “No, Y/N if you can’t handle the fact that she just fell and it’s not what your making it out to be then maybe I don’t need to be with you!” He growls. You scoff at the audacity “oh sorry Chan, she just fell and I just so happened to walk in at the wrong time?!” He throws his hands up in frustration “Jesus Fuck! Y/N are you stupid? Like genuinely I’m asking because you’re obviously fucking stupid if you seem to think I would allow someone to do that!” The veins in his neck begin to bulge as you roll your eyes “I guess I’m fucking stupid then! Cause I don’t believe you! If she had just fell why were her arms around your neck why was her head laying on your shoulder?! WHY WERE YOUR ARMS WRAPPED AROUND HER?! I UNDERSTAND IF SHE FELL BUT SHE DIDN’T FUCKING FALL YOU GUYS WERE FUCKING CUDDLING CHAN” you counter, your voice cracking as you make your way to the bedroom. Forcing the door open you grab your suitcase placed under the bed.
Chan followed behind you his eyes never once leaving you. His heart sunk in his chest at your actions, and his anger in his stomach bubbled. There’s no way you were leaving him over this….right? He genuinely didn’t do anything wrong. And whilst, yes things could have been misconstrued he was sincerely telling you the honest to god truth. Your actions only fueling his anger “Why can’t you just fucking trust me?!” He snaps, grabbing the lamp from the nightstand and sending it hurling across the room. Only, not only did he hear the shattering of the lamp but a loud scream erupting from your throat. His eyes fall on you now huddled in the middle of the room. Fragments from the lamp scattered on the floor behind you and at your feet. Shock over took him. His mouth hung widen open, tears flowed down your cheeks as you ran past him out of the room as you meekly muttered “I’ll send someone to get my things another time…” it took him a few seconds to process everything as his anger was completely subsided with his actions and your words. His feet acted before he realized what he was doing, your retreating figure came into view and his heart yearned to stop you from walking out of that door. “Baby—Y/N, please I-I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that, please don’t leave. I’m sorry” he cried as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Your whole body tensed from the contact and his resolve completely shattered at your fear. Sobs flowed out like Niagara, his breathing grew heavier and heavier as you struggled to pull him off you. His pleas falling on deaf ears as you finally force him off you and grab your keys and purse before running to your car.
Your heart broke as Chan pulled on your door handle, heartbreak and sorrow etched on his features as he begged you to stay, that he would fix things and profusely apologizing. You pleaded for him to let go of the handle so he wouldn’t get hurt but having no choice you placed your car in reverse and slowly made your way out of the drive way and down the street. Your eyes catching a glimpse of the man you love crying at the end of the driveway where you left him, on his knees.
Minho:
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“You’re overreacting..” Minho sighed as you walked down the street, not understanding your anger at his ignorance. “Minho, you introduced me as your friend to someone you’ve liked for years. How can you be so oblivious to how that can hurt your girlfriend. That watched you pine over that girl for years.” You explained cautiously behind gritted teeth. “I didn’t pine over her. And I love you, not her so I don’t see the problem, nor do I really care if she knows our relationship or not. It’s not like I go around telling everyone you’re my girlfriend anyway” he states snobbishly as he shrugs you off. You stop in place releasing his hand. “So who knows then?” You question, this has come up a few times in your almost one year relationship. For some reason, Minho seems hesitant to fully acknowledge you as his girlfriend. You wouldn’t have really cared if it was just about going public but so far you’ve never even met his members. Not when you were his friend, and especially not while you were his girlfriend. You weren’t even sure his parents knew. And with the way he’s been treating you, it’s no surprise when he gives you a confused look and states “no one? Why does anyone have to know? You know what I’m not doing this with you again. I told you already, I don’t want anyone to know about us. Other people like to ruin happy relationships, why would I want someone to unnecessarily know about something I want to be mine and mine only?” You scoff at his undermining tone, this is how it always was. You somehow get on his nerves and he scolds you like a child, almost like he looks down on you in a way. Almost like—“Are you embarrassed of me or something?” You snap.
Realization washes over you, your mouth hung open; as you stare at him in shock. The look on his face has your blood running cold. A glare planted firmly on you as he stomps over to you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist. His grip is vice like and hurt. “ow, Minho, you’re hurting me—Don’t ever say something so fucking stupid again are you kidding me?!” He snapped behind gritted teeth his words like venom almost instantaneously you nodded in fear. Tears built in your eyes and you thanked god you were close to your dorm. “Please let me go…” you muttered as he pulled you beside him down the street toward your dorm. The whole way his harsh grip remained on your wrist, as tears flowed down your cheeks. His natural calm look remained on his face, really selling the façade of someone quite unaffected but inside he was dying. How could you ask him that? You are the only thing that matters to him. He’s never once been embarrassed of you he loves you so much. And though—yes, he may have lied to that girl about your relationship, honestly just to see how you’d react, he never thought you’d ask him such a disgusting question. He lied to you, and he knows this is his price to pay for that lie but how could he bring you around everyone that’s so desperate to meet you? He could feel you slipping through his fingers so to speak so he held you at his side. Your pleas falling on deaf ears, he didn’t even realize how tightly he had been holding you. And once he realized it was too late, when you refused to meet his eyes at your door he felt like he was going to throw up. He overreacted, he knows he did. He stared at your fearful figure and pulled you into his chest. Words getting stuck in his throat as you shoved his arms away, what could he do? He was panicking. “I-I didn’t mean to—I don’t care.” You cut him off “I can’t do this anymore Minho, please…don’t—don’t come back here” this couldn’t be happening right now. “Princess, I really didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry, I’m not embarrassed of you okay? I’ll fix this, we can go to my dorm right now you can meet my members. I’ll do whatever you want but please don’t break up with me. You know id never hurt you on purpose, I genuinely just lost myself for a second but it won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again. I’m sorry I’m so sorry but please don’t make me leave now it was supposed to be our night please don’t let my stupidity mess everything up.” He begged grabbing your hand in his. Shaking your head you rejected him coldly before rushing inside and locking the door behind you ignoring the banging and whaling at the door.
Changbin:
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“This is really too much, Y/N..” Changbin scolded. You had texted him quite a few times, since he hadn’t come home in 3 days and to the average person you’d expect a reply or any sign your significant other is doing okay. The last time you had seen him he was on the verge of collapse and now he acted as if nothing had happened; as if you didn’t see how he struggled to even walk to your room a few nights prior. “How is it too much? I just asked Chan if you were okay, I was worried about you, Bin” you pout from your place on the couch. “I told you that I was fine. I told you I was busy and didn’t need you consistently checking up on me and being so fucking obsessive. I understand why your exes just disappeared on you cause holy fuck!” He growls, you bite your lip at his words lifting yourself from your seat and slowly make your way to the bedroom to collect your things to get some space. Your movements are halted by his harsh grip whipping you around to face him. Tears streaming down your face as your harshly shoved against the wall “No! You don’t get to be literally fucking crazy then just walk away like you didn’t fucking harass me” He scolds.
A sharp pain radiating in your back, you flinched as he towered over you. “Please let me go I-I don’t want this…I’m sorry I’m sorry” your hands covered your head as you squeaked. His hold on you loosened “B-babe…” he croaked “Im sorry I—“ his words were cut off by you forcefully shoving him away from you “D-don’t touch me” you exclaim while you rushed to the bedroom. Locking it behind you as you listened to a once frozen Changbin shout expletives and several loud bangs ring through the apartment.
Hyunjin:
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“You really think he loves you?” Yerim prods, her words like venom and you silently prayed Hyunjin would be back from the store soon. “Hyunjin likes me Yerim, we’re dating. We have been dating for over a year now I would think he likes me” you sigh. Staring at the door, “you think that but you do know what he does when he comes over to my place? It’s like you don’t exist, he loves me honestly. We’ve been friends since we were kids you really don’t think I can’t make you guys break up any time I want? You’re still with Hyunjin because I allow you to be.” She snaps. Her hands sat on her hips as she leans into your face “He loves me not you and honestly it’s embarrassing how much you cling to him” her words like venom, sending pain straight into your heart. You never particularly cared that Hyunjins best friend was a girl, you never minded that they hung out almost daily. You didn’t mind not tagging along because you felt he deserved to have time alone with his best friend. Yet, every time you’d had seen her she would have something negative to say and for a while now it’s been the stipulation that Hyunjin was cheating on you with her. You typically just ignore her, and never tell Hyunjin as you don’t want to be the reason for them to fight. But her words today have you absolutely fuming. “Jesus Christ, Yerim! Can you grow the fuck up for once? Like honestly I’m really over this bitchy, monopolizing attitude you have over Hyunjin. He may have fallen for this innocent, perfect persona but I’m really getting pissed off with it.” You snap as you lift yourself from the couch you were sat on and making your way over to the kitchen. “I WAS HIS FRIEND FIRST! I LOVED HIM FIRST!” She growls grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at her “okay! SO WHY WERE YOU SUCH A PUSSY AND DIDN’T CONFESS TO HIM?! IF YOU LOVED HIM SO FUCKING MUCH YOU WOULD HAVE TOLD HIM THAT YOU LOVE HIM WHETHER HE WAS WITH ME OR NOT BUT NO YOU CHOSE TO RUN WITH YOUR TAIL TUCKED BETWEEN YOUR LEGS AND NOW YOU EXPECT ME TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT MY BOYFRIEND! Get a fucking grip Yerim and don’t fucking touch me!” You force your arm from her grasp with a little too much force earning a small yelp from Yerim as she stumbles back toward the couch. The sound of the door slamming closed cut both of your words off. You see Hyunjin standing in the doorway a glare planted on his face as he stormed toward you two.
You feel confusion as his scowl never once left your face as he shoved you away from his friend. Losing your footing from going backward you land on the ground a sharp pain shoots through your wrist. “Yerim are you okay? Y/N are you fucking crazy?!” He growled at you never once turning and seeing your small figure holding tight onto your wrist as the pain radiates through it. “. “She’s literally fine she fell…” you grumble. “Onto a couch mind you” your words are strained as you slowly lift yourself up from the ground. “Why’d you fucking push her in the first place? I get you don’t even like her but to act so fucking childish it’s disgusting!” He scolds, you glare at him as you make your way to your door grabbing your car keys with your wrist pressed firmly against your body; as you held back your tears “ITS DISGUSTING THAT YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME TOO BUT WHATEVER HYUNJIN IM GOING TO THE HOSPITAL I WANT YOU, YOUR SLUT AND YOUR SHIT OUT OF MY APARTMENT BEFORE I GET BACK!” You snap. “Wait, Y/N! I think you’re misunderstanding something here… she’s my best friend that’s all! I didn’t mean to hurt you I’m sorry okay? But I heard what you said and just saw red when I saw you push her!” He counters as he makes his way over to you. “But you don’t care about what she said? Nothing was misunderstood she made both of your relationship very clear to me and honestly you can have each other” you argue, his eyes brows scrunch together as his head whips toward Yerim. “What the hell did you say to her?!” He shouted his voice filled with panic. “It doesn’t matter I want you both gone before I get back here…” you snap as you force your door open and make your way outside. You can hear his confused pleas for you to allow him to come with you. You saw the realization adorn his features as he realized that you were serious, when you wouldn’t unlock your passenger door no matter how many times he pulled on it. He cried and begged you not to break up with him over this, that he would fix it and he believed you. He felt the world crumbling down around him as you drove away and he received a text from you stating that him and his stuff needed to be vacated from your apartment by the time you came back home. He sobbed harshly as he stared after your car driving away from him.
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fuckmymunson · 1 year
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eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.
eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹
💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!
🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌
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“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.
“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.
But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.
“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.
“I lost it” He repeated.
“You lost what?”
“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.
“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.
“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.
Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.
“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.
“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.
“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”
“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”
“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.
Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.
The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.
That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.
That was your Eddie.
Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.
“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”
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Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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harufluff · 7 months
Text
asking them to marry you on over the phone (unironically)
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warnings - cursing, but that should be it.
genre - crack, fluff, bf!enhypen x fem!reader, established relationship au
wc - 1.1k
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inspired by ‘you’re here that’s the thing’ by beabadoobee
yang jungwon
was stunned
actually thought he was having a heart attack for a second
he was doing something as simple as eating his gummies when you suddenly blurted out
"oh god- marry me."
man nearly choked on his gummy
more under the cut :))
"EXCUSE ME??"
if you were joking that was a bad idea cause he is fully prepared to marry you right that second >:(
either way, he's flattered
he thinks its honoring that you feel comfortable enough to say that
eventually you convince him to stop freaking out (it took way too long)
but even then, it still makes the heat rush to his face
thankfully it was just on facetime, so you couldn't see the red at the tips of his ears too much
he knows he's down bad fr 😋😋
lee heeseung
on the other hand mr i'm so confident on stage was like a little puddle
genuinely thought he heard you wrong at first
he was just sitting there zoning out for like two minutes and finally snapped out of it when he heard you say
"just marry me, you dork."
you thought it was funny lol 😎😎
probably should have thought that through cause you just messed up his heart with two words
"w-wait did you just- what did you say?!"
poor hee was so confused
"idk what did i say..."
"YOU SAID MARRY ME IDIOT"
"oh yea lol"
"FUCK YOU YOU CANT JUST SAY THAT"
he was a tad bit mad
just a little
literally walked over to your place so he could give you hugs and kisses 😤
park jay
he's been ready for this moment his entire life
literally got mad cause he wanted to say it
it ended with you having to beg him to stop talking
jay was cooking for the boys with you on facetime cause he was bored and everyone else would get in his way
so he gave you a call and you ended up staying on a call with him for over two hours
but the second he started tasting his food like the gourmet chef he is👌👌
suddenly he heard some of the best words he'll ever hear in his life
"ughhh- when we get married will you cook for me?"
poor baby whipped his head around so fast he almost broke it
"WHAT?? NOW?? BUT WERE ON THE PHONE AND- HEY YOU TOOK MY JOB I WAS SUPPOSED TO ASK YOU!!"
at this point you were staring at your phone with a blank stare
"what."
"you said marriage. you're stuck with me you can't leave me haha sucks for you."
"its ok i didnt want to anyway." 😊
whoops you just killed him with a smushy heart
sim jaehyun
he screamed
long story short, he almost fainted and quite literally did that "mrs rabbit has fainted" thing
the two of you were folding your own laundry together on facetime because, well, he gets lonely
obviously you said yes, because why wouldn't you??
"you look so cute and domestic, i love it. i could marry you this second if i could."
took him a couple of seconds
but eventually your words processed through his head and he SCREAMED
"THIS SECOND??"
"mhm!! you look cute." 😚
another puddle guess what you're the mop. come wipe up your jake puddle babe
he laid on the floor for a solid five minutes just processing.
anyway now hes at your house still a little jake puddle and he's making you watch movies with him on the couch.
park sunghoon
he was ready 🫡🫡
hoon got the phone and everything. he was ready to make the call to all the family
but obviously before that he took it a TINI TINY bit seriously
a tini tiny bit
basically it was morning and he was on tour so he was sad and alone (besides sunoo who was just offended that he even said that)
babe started drinking water until he heard
"i miss you a lot. when we get married, you're not aloud to do this to me."
spit water out of his mouth
it was kinda gross but did he care? no.
"MARRIED?? WHO SAID I WAS GETTING MARRIED TO YOU??"
he's a little mean when he's flustered ok?
"PARK SUNGHOON I'LL-"
"wait, you wanna get married to me? really??"
if you could slap him in the face you would, but truth is he was flattered.
he would marry you any day 💘💘
kim sunoo
also went along with it
you were going through all the snacks you found at the market with sunoo over facetime
to say the least he was just excited you were excited
"i got this thingy, and im not really sure what it is but it looks good."
the call went on with you eating the snacks and reviewing
"WAIT THIS IS SO GOOD SUN YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS SOMETIME."
"ill try it sometime then."
"we have to get it together and maybeeee you can buy it??"
"ill buy you any snacks you want, my love." 😋
"ugh marry me already."
SELF DESTRUCTION
"ANYTIME"
next time you go over to his place he had a little toilet paper boquet for you 😊😊
STOP I LOVE HIM
nishimura riki
my babe fr
another one who was a little too confident
you were on a ft with him late at night just for funsies
honestly the two of you were just messing around while eating snacks and making little crafts
anyway he was like quite literally about to fall asleep and he looked SO DAMN CUTE
like his eyes about to close and his lip is getting all pouty and UGH-
"night, ki"
"nooo i'm not asleep don't leave meeeee"
"lol you're so cute just marry me"
EYES ARE SHOT WIDE OPEN MAN HAS NEVER BEEN MORE AWAKE IN HIS LIFE
"married huh?? you're really that obsessed with me"
huh- OH WAIT THAT WAS A JOKE THO"
"NOT ANYMORE BABE IT'S REAL NOW"
aaaaaaand again you're stuck 😋😊
i literally love him sm
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©harufluff 2023
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reiderwriter · 7 months
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The Us That Could Have Been
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader
Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!
W/C: 5.7k
Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.
Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.
A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.
Find the rest of my masterlist here.
If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet. 
Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down. 
“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body. 
“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once. 
“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-” 
“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you. 
“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long. 
“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words. 
“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?” 
“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-” 
“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.” 
–X–
A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right. 
Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.
The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step. 
If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care. 
The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one. 
It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed. 
Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion. 
You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you. 
“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day. 
“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his. 
You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out. 
Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.
“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home. 
“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now. 
The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust. 
The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys. 
“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk. 
“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance. 
“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock. 
“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”
“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.” 
“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.
“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?” 
“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away. 
He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember. 
–X– 
“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead. 
“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time. 
Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day. 
“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them. 
Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions. 
“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?” 
“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it. 
He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway. 
When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.” 
JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women. 
“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it. 
“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…” 
“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue. 
“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession. 
“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed. 
“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.” 
They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued. 
“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”
“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?” 
“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”
JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 
“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them. 
“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around. 
“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.” 
The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you. 
“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.  
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued. 
“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.  
“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her. 
“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out. 
“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in. 
“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word. 
“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.  
“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-” 
“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.  
“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”
“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?” 
“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve. 
“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added. 
“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly. 
“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?” 
They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them. 
“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.
“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.” 
“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.  
“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.  
“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.” 
“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things. 
“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.  
He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.  
You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess. 
“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.  
“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen. 
“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.  
“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly. 
“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came. 
You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left. 
“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.  
“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.” 
–X– 
The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?
Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning. 
“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”
Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.  
“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.  
“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?” 
He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.” 
“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.  
“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.” 
He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly. 
“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said. 
“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.” 
“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time. 
–X– 
You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him. 
You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions. 
“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider. 
It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.  
You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies. 
He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed. 
“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin. 
“I love you, please don’t cry.” 
“I love you, you’re so beautiful.” 
“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again. 
“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him. 
“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body. 
He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.  
“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again. 
“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another. 
Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time. 
“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again. 
He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes. 
“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied. 
“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively. 
“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly, 
“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question. 
“Why did you run away the other day?” 
“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”
“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far. 
“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself. 
“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.” 
“Y/N, please.” 
“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.” 
The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away. 
He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch. 
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mayearies · 8 months
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… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱
.. ❛ nailed it ❜
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genre: suggestive | warnings: implied making out, suggestive speech ->summary: miles gives you a prize
꒰ঌ a/n ໒꒱ needed to spice up shi a little bit since i havent in a while lmao i didnt feel like adding pictures to this one (ty @/q2ie for letting me steal ur format 😊 i might not keep it tho LMAO)
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miles and you were doin' your nightly routine—facetiming each other for 3 hours before you actually went to sleep. you two would talk about anything and everything. drama at school, shit at work, etc. but you wanna see him in person. you would drop that in the convo for a while.
"then this bitch down the street was lookin' at me sideways n' shit, i swear to god-" "i wanna come see youuuu"
he broke, bursting out in full on laugher and rolling around in his bed out the frame. all your other attempts landed in him letting out a breathy laugh or a small chuckle.
"okay but no seriously! you haven't came over in foreverrrr" "we saw each other last week, mi vida?" "that's too long! what can i do to make you come over?"
it didn't take him long to think about a possible challenge. the smirk on his face told you all you needed to know. "you can try that one filter goin' around."
"which one? the hammer one?" "yeah." "hmm. you make it seem like it's that big of a challenge." "knowing your timing skills, yes. yes it will be a challenge for you." "what's in it for me?"
miles held his face in his palm while he looked to the side, making a humming noise. "i'll come over and kiss you."
"make out, you mean?" "i mean... it depends if you pass or nah."
you sucked on your teeth as you moved over to tiktok and got ready to win the little prize he had for you. you didn't even tell him that you started. you just went at it. he saw your focused ass self through your camera and he was snickerin a whole lot. "yo, shut up or i swear to god."
miles sat up and took a deep breath before saying in a mocking tone: "yo, shut up or i swear to g-"
"STOP"
once the timer hit zero, you had landed around 14. still bein' salty about not being able to get at least two because of his sabotagin' ass. you mumbled a curse under your breath which he knows for certain was for him. "awww.. you mad, ma? estás molesto conmigo?
"shut up." "you're too cute, i can't." "you didn't even tell me how many i had to get!" "... 15."
you stared at him with unamused which only made him feel amused. you swear, this boy plays too much. but that's one of the reasons you love him. the other reasons? well... that's another story.
"i'm jokin', ma. unlock your window."
once you heard your window slide up, you stopped shaking your leg. you had been waiting a whole 10 minutes. far too long. he came in his prowler pajamas, which was cute and it matched your spiderman one. "took you long enough."
miles held your chin with a playful smirk on his face. tilting it upward a little so he could plant a little kiss on your neck. "y'know. i wonder if you taste as salty as you talk, ma."
"just kiss me already."
and so he did. rather passionate, you would say. he knew everything you liked when he kissed you. what you didn't like, and what you loved. what made your face warm. what made your heart flutter. all of it. it's one of the other reasons you love him.
"i know just how to make your knees weak, amor." "sad but true." "what is that supposed to mean?" "you always make me fold. it hurts my back."
he let out a small giggle while cuddling up under the covers with you. he was proud to be able to tease you so much. even if you might get sick of him. "i love you so much."
"wish i could say the same." "damn. you still got that salty ass mouth after all that? thought i carried all my sweetness over to you. you want me to do it again?"
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©hiimayee
1K notes · View notes
charlesslut16 · 3 months
Text
-be one of your mistakes-
summary : you thought you were just a mistake but Lewis thought otherwise
PAIRING : lewis hamilton x fem!reader
WARNINGS : curse words
note : I AM SO SORRY THAT I HAVE NOT POSTED FOR SO LONG!!
december masterlist ; masterlist
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''Don't'' You said, holding a hand before you to stop Lewis from moving. ''Don't come any closer.'' The tears in your eyes were collecting, but not falling. For him, you would not ever let another tear fall down.
''Why, my love? What is wrong?'' he asked, hurt visibly seen in his eyes. You took a deep breath and finally began to confess what's been on your mind for a while now. It had been tormenting you in secret.
“Because I am not ready to be just another of your fucking mistakes.” Your voice cracked and broke and you hated it. You hated how much it hurt you and how weak you looked compared to him. 
Lewis looked at you with so much emotion, that you had to turn my face away from him. Not ready to see the pain in his eyes. The yes that made you feel so much. 
“Why?” he whispered, almost sounding like a question to himself, as if this was some kind of puzzle that he could not understand or solve. “Would you ever think you'd be one of my mistakes?”
You looked at him again. Trying to figure out if it’s a serious question and not another of his cruel jokes. “Did I make you feel like a mistake, my love?” his voice was hoarse, and the pain in it made the heart squeeze in awe.
“God.” he rasped, “did I ever make you feel worthless?”
“N-No.” You stuttered, you didn’t. I’m scared.“
“And you don’t think I am?” he asked, his voice stronger now. “Can’t you see? You are the most important person in my life. I can’t fucking live without you, yn!“
Your heart was beating a marathon by now.
“You are my oxygen. My reason to just BE. You are my fucking person, yn! The woman that I have always dreamed of being together with. You are the moon to my sun.”
“So HOW could you ever fucking say, that you are just another of my mistakes?he asked in horror. Scared of the possibility he’d made you feel like that. Like a
fucking mistake.
You had to think of your next words carefully. Fearing you could say something that could make him feel more guilty than he already was. You could not see him hurting more than he already was.
“Because you never.” You made a small gesture with your hand. “Tried something. With me. I mean.“
He studied me. Careful to catch every word, every whisper that left your warm and plump lips. 
“It felt a little like.” You shrugged, “you find me unattractive.” He blinked. Then blinked again. Almost like he couldn’t believe you just said that.
*My love,“ he began, then cleared his throat, “you are the most beautiful woman to me.” he took a step forward, “When I first met you, I wasn’t believing my own eyes. Because I didn’t think it was possible to look,” he pointed a hand to prove his point.
Lewis took another step in your direction. Only inches, separate you both now. It was as if you were magnets that were constantly trying to attract you both, to make you one.
“Like the most gorgeous human being on earth.” he whispered in a hoarse voice.
You couldn't explain what effect his words had on you. But they felt magical. Almost like a dream come true. Your dream that you had wished and dreamed for like forever.
You closed the gap between your lips to make this dream even more perfect. And you so hoped that when you stepped away from each other this would be just a dream, and you wake up in your bed, but hopefully, it would develop into something beautiful.
493 notes · View notes
alessiasfreckles · 3 months
Text
Puppy Love
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You and Leah get a puppy!
warnings: none!
A/N: based off of @onasfreckles request! wanted to write something about Leah so here it is, short and sweet x
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“Oh my god, baby, he’s perfect!” Leah gushed.
“Never thought I’d hear you say that about a man,” you teased, but you had to agree. 
“He’s not a man, he’s just a little baby!” she said, picking him up and turning to look at you. You melted at the sight of your girlfriend holding the Golden Retriever puppy. “Look at his eyes! Baby, please can we get him? Please?”
“Why else do you think we’re here?” she smiled, and she let out a gasp.
“You said we were just looking!” 
“I lied. Come on, you don’t really think I would make you look at all these adorable puppies and then just leave, did you?” you said with a laugh, and she turned back to look at the puppy with adoration in her eyes. 
“You’re coming home with us, yes you are, we’re your new mummies,” she said in a baby voice, and you couldn’t help but smile.
You’d known Leah wanted a dog for a while, but she didn’t want to get one by herself because she didn’t think it would be fair to the dog if she had to leave for days at a time for camp or away games. As you weren’t a footballer, however, you would be home when she was at camp, and your family lived close by enough to look after a dog if you travelled with her. So you figured now was the perfect time. 
“Is he really ours?” Leah asked you again, looking up at you. 
“Really,” you said, kneeling down next to where she was sat on the floor. 
Tears were brimming in her eyes when she kissed you. “Thank you.”
“You big softie,” you teased, and she nodded, giggling. 
“Oh my god, what are we going to name him?” she asked. 
“Well, we have the whole drive home to figure it out. Unless you have any ideas already?”
“Hmm…” she trailed off, looking at him thoughtfully. “Peanut. I think he looks like a Peanut.”
The puppy cocked his head when she said the name, and jumped up the second time she said it.
“Peanut it is, then,” you said with a laugh, and Peanut let out a small woof. 
When you got home, Leah carried Peanut in through the front door, carefully setting him down. 
“Okay Peanut, this is your new home!” she said gently, then turned to you with wide eyes. “Wait, babe, we don’t have anything for him! We don’t have a bed, or a bowl, or puppy pads, or -”
“Woah, relax,” you told her, and opened the door to the storage closet under the stairs, the one she refused to go in because she claimed it was full of spiders. Over the past few weeks you’d gotten all the essentials for a puppy and had hidden them, knowing they’d be safe from her there. “I have everything we need right here.”
Once again, tears welled up in your girlfriend’s eyes. This time they spilled over, and she quickly tried to wipe them away.
“You okay?” you asked gently, getting the feeling that these were good tears rather than bad ones.
“I’m just, just, so happy!” she said through sniffles. “I love you so much, thank you.”
“I love you,” you said, hugging her tightly, when the two of you felt a cold damp nose nudging at your calves. 
You broke apart, laughing, to see Peanut looking up at you with his big brown eyes. He cocked his head, then licked Leah’s ankle. 
“I think he might be hungry,” she said between giggles. 
After you got him sorted with food and water, and had put out some puppy pads and his new bed, you let him explore the house. The two of you gushed over pretty much everything the puppy did, but your favourite thing was when she trotted over to Leah, who was sat cross legged on the floor, and flopped in her lap, tired from all the excitement.
She stroked his head gently, watching his eyes droop, looking like he was trying not to fall asleep. The way she looked at him, with so much tenderness and adoration, made your heart feel so full of love that it could burst.
“I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” you told her, and she looked up at you.
“Yeah?” she asked, smiling.
“Yeah,” you nodded. You’d never felt more sure of anything in your life. You leant over to kiss her, careful not to wake Peanut, who had given in to his sleepiness. 
“Want to tell the girls about him?” you asked a few minutes later, and she nodded eagerly.
“I have a great idea for how we can tell them,” she said with a grin. She got out her phone and started filming, holding it so that Peanut couldn’t be seen. “Hey guys, y/n and I have some big news. We’ve decided it’s time for us to take the next step in our relationship, and start expanding our family! So, without further ado, there’s someone we’d like to introduce you all to,” she panned the camera down to Peanut, who was still sleeping peacefully in her lap. “Everyone, meet the newest member of our family: Peanut!”
She stopped recording and quickly sent the video into the group chats your friends were in. The replies started flooding in immediately, ranging from messages in full caps from people saying they thought you were going to say that you were pregnant, to people offering to puppy-sit whenever you need it. 
“I don’t think Peanut is going to have to worry about being loved, do you?” you said with a smile.
“He has no idea how many people already love him,” Leah whispered softly. “You have so many aunties who can’t wait to meet you!”
----
Later that evening, you were sat on the sofa together, Peanut fast asleep in his new bed. You watched his small body rise and fall with his breathing, and grinned when his little legs kicked out in his sleep.
“What do you think he’s dreaming about?” you said softly to Leah.
“Running around in a big field, full of flowers,” she said dreamily, and you nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of her head with a smile.
546 notes · View notes
alonetimelover · 6 months
Text
pairing: Harry Styles x book writer!reader
fc: Saoirse Ronan
summary: YN just released her debut book, and it became the hot topic online. It might have something to do with certain someone being spotted buying it.
a/n: comments to all those posts are long, because i wanted to somehow incorporate the plot of the book that book writer!reader wrote!
masterlist taglist
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yourinstagram
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liked by fallinloveinbooks, user49 and 89 202 others
yourinstagram Those are the notebooks in which I wrote my little baby. I can't believe I am typing this, but 'Silver Lining' is out !!! You can buy it at all independent London bookstores. I can't wait for your reviews. I'll read them all.
view all 8 201 comments
yourbestfriend MY BEST FRIEND IS AN AUTHOR !!! JANE AUSTEN WHO ???
⤷ yourinstagram do not disrespect the legend here
fallinloveinbooks OMG i've been following you since that one post about understanding fantasy world and being allowed to incorporate real world in it! i can't wait to read it, im going to the store right now!
⤷ yourinstagram YOU. ARE. THE. SWEETEST. and i remember you from that post and all that came after. I LOVE YOU and will wait for your words!
user92 what is the genre of the book?
⤷ yourinstagram it's fantasy! but there are a few subgenres. i'd say romance and mystery play a huge role in this book, too!
user109 will it be available online? im from us and would love to read your book!
⤷ yourinstagram unfortunately, not in a foreseeable future
⤷ user109 oh no, why??
⤷ yourinstagram being completely transparent, i released this book using my own money- no publishing house involved - because no one was really interested in it. what is in the stores is the printing i was able to afford. hopefully, they will sell and i'll be able to print more editions.
⤷ user102 im crossing my fingers for you
hArrysbtch i was looking for some new fantasy books, you are sent from heaven
⤷ yourinstagram hope you like it, angel
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harryupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, yourbestfriend and 80 393 others
harryupdates HARRY outside of the independent bookstore in London today! EDIT: because all of you are asking, he apparently bought 'Silver Lining' by YN YSN !
view all 2 202 comments
hArrysbtch I've just finished that book and OMG OMG OMG, i don't know what to tell you, but he's getting into something so beautiful so structured so sad, i can't say enough.
⤷ harrysmoustache so it's worth it?
⤷ hArrysbtch YES. YES. YES. absolutely. from the first page to the last, it just consumes you. yn did such a good job, and it's her first book ever!
⤷ harrysmoustache oh, i can't find it online
⤷ hArrysbtch it's only at independent bookstores in London. no publishing house was involved, she printed all the copies available with her own money. i can buy it for you and send it?
⤷ harrysmoustache i DMed you!
stylesbabie harry in his book girl era
harrysmylife he is back and he is reading, he's just like me
user102 there's no way he has that book and i don't
fallinloveinbooks I've read it, and I loved it. I hated it because of how much it made me cry. Harry, you're in for a ride a wild one with all the *wink*wink* scenes and the most heartbreaking chapters of literature I've ever come upon
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 173 302 others
yourinstagram I cannot express how thankful I am for you and your love for my book. Unfortunately, for now, there are no copies available. But im trying to make it work. But maybe it wasn't meant to be...
view all 10 202 comments
yourbestfriend that's a bestseller book if you ask me
⤷ yourinstagram you are the love of my life
hArrysbtch not you using the last line of the book, like it didn't tear my heart open
hArrysbtch thank god it's already on my bookshelf, happy that it broke my heart and made me horny
⤷ yourinstagram Those were the emotions I wanted people to feel!
harrysmoustache my copy is flying to me, and I can't wait to read it
⤷ yourinstagram ill be waiting for your review!
user102 read, loved, cried and read again
⤷ yourinstagram two times??? i could smother you in kisses
⤷ user102 i wouldn’t mind that
user292 can't explain how unique and original it is
⤷ yourinstagram ❤️
user939 not harry lurking in the likes
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harryupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 128 402 others
harryupdates HARRY and writer YN YSN out and about in London today!
view all 6 080 comments
hArrysbtch Alexa play that should be me by Justin Bieber
hArrysbtch she's mine harry, fuck off
hArrysbtch what is it that whenever I find someone to obsess over they become somehow connected to harry
hArrysbtch but, i smell couple material !!!
harrysmoustache he's gonna be the inspiration spark
⤷ hArrysbtch don't even start! i read silver lining with Harry in mind as one of the main characters
⤷ harrysmoustache as Emrys, right?
⤷ hArrysbtch yes! my protective and sexy bookboyfriend
⤷ user102 I see, we support complicated men here, i love it
stylesbabie they look so good together
⤷ user02 their backs are towards the camera...
⤷ stylesbabie shhh
harrysmylife I love her style !!!!
user402 she's getting so much attention from it. how did she manage this pr?
⤷ hArrysbtch pr???
⤷ user402 don't tell me it doesn't look like one?
⤷ hArrysbtch yeah, I forgot. every woman harry is seen with is just pr or the one to hate. of course. tpwk does not include woman harry is involved with?
⤷ harrysmoustache burnt!!!
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bloomsbury
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liked by yourinstagram, yourbestfriend, harrystyles and 40 492 others
bloomsbury Our newest pea in the Bloomsbury pod is the sweetest, London based, young author who has just published her debut novel. We are here to help and tell you that 'Silver Lining' is coming to all bookstores in the world and to online shopping as well on the 15th of November. To feel whole again.
view all 2 202 comments
yourinstagram I LOVE MY NEW POD
yourbestfriend DONT FORGET ABOUT ME WHEN YOU BECOME FAMOUS
⤷ yourinstagram NEVER
harrystyles Congratulations, YN ❤️
⤷ yourinstagram well, thank you, harry
hArrysbtch my favourite author is getting famous!!!
fallinloveinbooks I CANT BELIEVE IT !!! congrats, yn!!
⤷ yourinstagram thank you, sweets!
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fallinloveinbooks
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liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 6 492 others
fallinloveinbooks I'm attending YN's 'meet the writer' thingy in London and I cannot express how much appreciation I have for her. She thought every little detail in 'Silver Lining' through to make the book perfect. An icon!
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hArrysbtch I am here too! And I love her so much!
harrysmoustache you need to either film some moments or just post-stream it for us!
stylesbabie she looks so beautiful
user102 I am here as well! we need to meet up!
⤷ hArrysbtch im in the second row!
⤷ user102 are you the one with a pixie cut?
⤷ hArrysbtch Yes, that's me!
⤷ fallinloveinbooks I think im sitting next to you, hArrysbtch
user42 come on guys, let us now what are the questions and answers!
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dailymail
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liked by hArrysbtch, user102 and 103 393 others
dailymail NEW COUPLE ALERT? Harry Styles and newly established writer YN YSN were seen leaving the same restaurant (Styles a few moments after YSN). YN independently published her debut novel just two months ago and then signed a contract with Bloomsbury publishing house after Harry had been seen buying her book. For more photos and information, visit the link in our bio!
view all 19 302 comments
user102 not you making harry the only reason she got the contract
hArrysbtch she got a contract because of the interest her book sparked online, not harry
harrysmoustache i'll just leave it here but literally Neil Gaiman praised this book online
user402 oh yes, when the privilege is striking
user99 you just cannot stop taking photos of people in their free time, invading their privacy, can you?
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 201 392 others
yourinstagram Somethin' is cookin'. And that's the audiobook of "Silver Lining" voiced by me! It will be available on 23rd of December as podcast episodes on Spotify for more of you to enjoy! Merry early Christmas!
PS: there may or may not be someone else to accord their voice to Emrys
view all 19 292 comments
yourbestfriend i could be Rhiannon
⤷ yourinstagram you were laughing your ass off after two lines
⤷ yourbestfriend not my fault that Rhiannon is the comedy queen
harrystyles 📖🎤
hArrysbtch NO WAY! i adore your voice and now i'm gonna picture you as Rhiannon - this book just became even better (it already was perfect, i don't how you're doing it"
⤷ yourinstagram hopefully, i won't end up as her
fallinloveinbooks my dream came true. i usually have such a hard time reading that audiobooks are the only option. now i'm going to listen to my favourite chapter over and over again
⤷ yourinstagram which ones are your favourite?
⤷ fallinloveinbooks definitely 6, 15, 24, 33 and 42
⤷ hArrysbtch all the chapters that depicts love - i see you
⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes! the thing is that number 6 refers to love and all those chapter number's are either 6 or add up to 6
hArrysbtch wait wait wait, i've just realised. what if harry is voicing Emrys????
⤷ harrysmoustache don't give me hope
⤷ fallinloveinbooks that would be perfect
⤷ user102 i'm not ready to listen to chapter 24 and 33 with him voicing it
⤷ hArrysbtch i will die, literally. those scenes are intense!
user102 she just wants people to be able to read the book and not care about paying bundle and having shitty quality. i love her.
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harrysupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, fallinloveinbooks and 109 393 others
harryupdates HARRY and YN at the market in Clonakilty, Ireland!
view all 6 001 comments
hArrysbtch someone tell me is that her home town?
⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes, it is! her parents still live there!
⤷ hArrysbtch meeting parents? oh god, they are serious serious
fallinloveinbooks they live that small town romance book lives
⤷ user102 so true! i need her to write something like this!
⤷ hArrysbtch i would eat it up
stylesbabie Niall is proud right now
harrysmylife i can't express how much i love domestic harry
user20 she started the thunder online after *possibly* announcing that harry will voice Emrys and decided to step away from socials. i love her. i love her. i love her.
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irishharry
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liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 23 403 others
irishharry How thin are the chances to meet Harry in a small Irish town? Very thin. But not thin enough to be impossible. I MET HARRY FREAKING STYLES AND THE LEGEND HERSELF YN YSN !!!
view all 2 022 comments
hArrysbtch they look so cosy... i want what they have
⤷ fallinloveinbooks a man?
⤷ hArrrysbtch yuck, i only like fictional men + harry
harrysmoustache this ken's job is walk
harryupdates this is very aestheticly pleasing photo
stylesbabie small town!harry is my favourite
user102 hopefully the inspiration is overflowing because i'm reading silver lining for the third time
⤷ hArrysbtch are you okay???
⤷ user102 nope. i just love torturing myself
fallinloveinbooks the matching coats...
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 401 100 others
yourinstagram my love in your heart...
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yourbestfriend answer my calls, yn !!!
⤷ yourinstagram i won't tell you
harrystyles ...my heart in your palm
hArrysbtch I LOVE THE SOFT LAUNCH
hArrysbtch PARENTS
harrysmoustache i love how we all know that this is harry but at the same time it doesn't have to be
⤷ hArrysbtch it better be! this post just cured all my mental problems
fallinloveinbooks the caption... is it the title?
⤷ user102 look at harry's comment, it might be a main thing in her next novel/short story collection
⤷ hArrysbtch the inspiration sparked and inspiration was harry. that's it. when it's published i can die happily
⤷ user102 decide, that or harry voicing Emrys
⤷ hArrybtch im chronically online, don't require any consistency from me
harryupdates vacation in a small irish town birthed some masterpiece, i just know it
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a/n: i have part 2 made in my mind already. do we want more of them?
511 notes · View notes
threestarsinline · 1 month
Text
Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part II)
Jason Todd x reader one-shot
Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.
Word Count: 15.5K (total of 29.2K)
Category: More fluff for you all (yes, more jsjs), (plus slight angst related to mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers and typical Gotham villain stuff)
Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)
Author’s note: Well, here you go babes, the second (and final) part to what once was just a one-shot but that became so long that I had to split it up (despite how much it broke my heart to do so). Hope you enjoy it!
<Part I
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After that night at the dinner (that you didn’t ever want to end, though of course, sadly, it had to), everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.
Except that now, while you scanned the children’s books, as you knew what they were for now, you asked how the kids were doing.
Except that now, a lot of times when he came in the afternoons, Jason stayed in the bookshop with you until you closed, keeping you company.
Except that now, sometimes Jason brought food with him and had lunch with you.
Except that now, you texted each other practically everyday, carrying on conversations from the bookshop and talking about everything.
Except that now, your heart, instead of giving little jumps, it run whole laps every time you saw him.
And right now, you’re buzzing with nerves.
Because you don’t know where the line stands anymore, having become blurrier and blurrier with each smile, every longing look and every soft touch on his arm or the small of your back when you pass each other a lot closer than what is necessary.
And now you’re bouncing behind the counter, wondering if what you are about to do today is too much.
When that white streak that you love so much makes its way through the door, you can hardly wait to show him what you’ve found. Jason, like always, greets you with a smile and goes directly to the counter, not bothering with excuses anymore.
“There you are!” You exclaim, barely containing your excitement.
“Hi to you too.” He chuckles at your warm welcome as he finishes approaching the counter.
“I found it.” You say with a grin. Surprise makes its way across Jason’s features, immediately knowing what you were talking about.
“You did?” He asks in disbelief. You nod proudly and from under the counter, you slip out the third and last installment of a book series about the adventures of Daisy the giraffe. In the store you only had the first and the second one and the kids loved them. They had read both several times but were unable to see how the story ended since the books were quite old and very hard to find.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” Jason continues as he takes the book from your hands that are extending it to him. “You’re amazing, Y/N.” He looks back up at you with shining eyes. “How did you do it?” You shrug your shoulders.
“I just tracked it down.” You answer. The truth was that it had taken a lot of time and effort to find it but the kids’ joy and how happy you felt right now made it all worth it.
“You did a lot more than that, believe me. The kids are going to love it.” Jason says, glancing back at the book and then at you once again, his eyes full of admiration. “Thank you.” He adds almost breathlessly.
You nod in acknowledgement with a bright smile.
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Jason had faced a lot of impossible situations during his life. Hardships that proved difficult to endure. From his days in the streets, to his Robin training and to his patrols as Red Hood.
But right now Jason feared that he may have found his greatest enemy. A problem hard to solve. A feat that will not be easy to achieve.
These damn braids.
Jason’s eyebrows are furrowed and he clenches his jaw in concentration. Despite having asked for help and Cass and Steph having taught him, he still was having trouble french braiding Lily’s hair.
He was in the area and decided to check on the kids, even though they didn't have a reading scheduled. After greeting the few that were there, Lily grabbed his hand and monopolized him.
She had asked him a few times to do her hair and he had tried but without much knowledge it had proved to be a disaster. At least now, even though it still felt a bit like an uphill climb, it seemed that his new skills were getting him somewhere.
They were sitting on some crates on the floor, Lily in front of him playing with her teddy and telling him his latest adventures as Batbear, making him chuckle at her great imagination.
He was working on the second braid when suddenly Lily fell into silence, deep in thought. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she finally spoke up.
“Do you like Y/N?” Lily asked, with the blunt curiosity characteristic of children her age.
Jason’s hands freeze on her blonde hair.
“Why do you ask?” Jason asks back nervously, afraid to give a clear response, as if after hearing it, Lily would run over to wherever you were to tell you. But she just shrugs her shoulders, lifting Batbear in her arms and examining his button-like eyes.
“She’s nice and funny.”
“Yeah, she is.” He coincides while slowly continuing to work on the braid.
“I like her. The other day she brought us all cookies from a bakery. They were delicious.” Lily continues, her voice acquiring a dreamy tone at the delightful memory.
Jason’s hands freeze once again. He had no idea you had done that. You hadn’t mentioned it to him. You had gone out of your way to buy treats for the kids and come here on your own on a non reading day.
Jason stands still on his seat, his gaze lost and thoughts clouded with you. He didn’t think that he could admire you more than what he already did, yet here he was, even more entranced by your kind nature.
“So you like her then?” Lily insists. She says it more in an innocent way rather than in the romantic sense, like when you meet a friend of a friend and they asked you if you liked hanging out with them. Just as Lily finishes her question, he ties up her braid and Lily turns her head, feeling him finish his work.
She catches sight of her reflection on a dirty window and lets out a delightful squeal that makes Jason jump in surprise. In an instant, the little girl is on her feet and admiring her hair from side to side, Batbear still in her grip.
Jason grimaces when he sees how the top of one of the braids is already starting to loosen and worries about what Lily will say. He still clearly needs more practice. But then-
“I love it!” Lily screams and Jason grins at her happiness. Ha, success. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She says in quick succession in a way in which the words jumble together and turns to give him a bone crushing hug, surprising for how little she is, and a sounding kiss on his cheek.
Then Lily sets off running, probably to show her friends her new hair, laughing all the way, completely forgetting about her earlier question. Jason can’t help but laugh under his breath too. He loves those kids.
He stands up and shakes his hands over his jeans to get rid of any possible dirt from the crate.
“Yeah, I like her very much.” Jason whispers, answering Lily’s question. His thoughts, as they usually tended to do, drifting back to you.
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“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You ask him another day when he enters the bookshop with a black eye. He opens his mouth to answer but you interrupt him. “Let me guess, boxing again?” You say with eyebrows raised in a playful manner so that he doesn’t need to worry about a fake excuse. But he chuckles and shakes his head.
“Not this time, no.”
“No? Impossible.”
“Okay so, turns out that Damian, for whatever reason that I still cannot comprehend, threw his phone at Tim. But Tim ducked and guess who was passing behind him in that exact moment just peacefully enjoying his bowl of cereal?”
“No way.” You say breathlessly, a smile already pulling at your lips and a laugh making its way up your throat.
He nods and sees you put a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your laughter. The sight makes him smile, despite the fact that the movement pulls at the swelling of his cheek under his eye, making him wince slightly at the pain.
“Sorry.” You say, failing miserably in containing your laughter.
“It’s okay, go ahead. It is funny.”
You then finally burst out laughing and Jason feels his heart swell, the sound having become his favorite in the whole world, like listening to his favorite song. And he can’t help but join in your laughter too.
“Though I did drop my precious bowl of cereal.” He adds with an exaggerated pout and you laugh even more, making him feel a radiating warmth that not even the sun could equal to.
“Oh, poor Jason.” You say.
As your laughters finally slowly die down, you round the counter and lift your hands to hold the sides of his face, turning him to see the eye better in the light.
“Are you okay though?” You ask in a low voice, serious now, almost like a whisper.
And with your hands holding him, Jason thinks that he will always be okay, no matter if he's drowning or bleeding to death.
“Yeah.” He whispers back.
Were you this close just a second before? He can clearly see how the lights of the bookshop reflect in your eyes now.
“Did you put something over it?” He nods. You tilt your head, not sure to believe him with how he hadn’t really treated the wounds on his knuckles that one time.
“Some ice.” You manage to coax out of him and you shake your head and click your tongue in slight disappointment. 
“Not enough.” You say, and just like that one time, with the bookshop empty except for you two, you guide him into the break room by his hand, sit him down and bring the first aid kit. You take an ointment from it and stand in front of him. You look down at him, asking for permission with your eyes and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.
One of your hands takes hold of his face to tilt him to the light and the tips of your fingers on the other start applying the ointment softly to help with the swelling.
Jason’s hands twitch to place themselves on your hips to bring you even closer but he grabs his own knees instead. He doesn’t have the right to do something like that. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend.
No matter how much he might want to.
So he contents himself with looking into your eyes that are concentrated on his wound.
He can feel the warmth of your body seeping into his with how close you are and he can’t help but close his eyes to savor it even further. 
He has never felt safer.
The silence of the intimate moment is deafening in the best of ways. He would gladly stay like this forever.
But then, just like a crack of thunder, cold surrounds him once again as you whisper that you’re done and retract your hands from him. You wash your hands in the faucet of the kitchen part of the break room and Jason follows your every movement hypnotized.
“Better?” You say as you return and sit in front of him.
With you? Always.
“Yeah.” He breathes out and he isn’t lying. He can already feel the swelling going down. “Thank you.” 
“It’s nothing.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.
It’s like you don’t see how much you do for him, and not just for tending his wounds. Just everything in general. Your laugh. Your long conversations. And it kills him. It kills him that you may not know just how much he cares about you.
And it kills him even more that he doesn’t have the courage to tell you.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” You say and quickly get up to grab a heavy looking bag from the corner before coming back. “I went to my parents’ last weekend and I got these books that I thought the kids might like.” You start as you take the contents of the bag out and put them on the table for him to see.
He notices how you worry your lip and how your shoulders tense and he wonders why you’re suddenly like that. He then looks towards the several books displayed on the table in front of you two.
“Most of them are bedtime stories. My mom used to read them to me.” You start and then your small posture and uncertain tone clicks. You’re shy about this. Almost ashamed that he might think that this is something ridiculous.
As if he could think anything negative about you.
“They’re not much but I loved them when I was little.” You continue and as you tell him more about them, he can see with how much fondness you remember them and how excited you are to talk about them. The insecurity seems to leave your whole body as you get lost in your explanation of the books. 
Two of them are quite thick and you tell him that they have several different stories, from a prince and a princess that could only meet at sunrise or sunset since one of them could only be in the light of the moon and the other in the light of the sun. And that if they were exposed to the other light, due to a spell, they would die; to a story about a mother reading to his son.
Another couple of them follow the adventures of a mole at his house and at the beach and the books include a small mole cut-out that you move across the pages to make him follow the story. Another one is about a boy and his dog that go on a great adventure thanks to a magical blue balloon.
As he listens intently, he marvels at you. You really were the most thoughtful, kind and beautiful person that he had ever met and he couldn’t get enough of it.
He has to resist the urge to close the space between you and kiss you right there and then. But he decides against it. He liked how everything was going with you and he didn’t want to ruin it by suddenly rushing and risking everything.
Aside from the fact that you still didn’t know about a part of his life that he’s sure would make you push him away and send you running. Even though every time that he thinks about it, he’s considering telling you more and more, wanting to be completely sincere and honest with you, knowing how much you valued that.
“Sorry, that was a lot. This probably was a bad idea.” You say after you finish explaining all the books. You’re about to start picking them up to put them back in the bag when you feel his hand enclosing over one of your own, softly stopping you.
Your breath catches in your throat.
“No. These are great, Y/N. I love them and I’m sure that the kids will too. Thank you for sharing them.” He says looking into your eyes. You were sharing with him and the kids a very personal part of you that you held very close to your heart. And he wanted you to know how much he appreciated it.
He also gives your hand a small squeeze to show you how much he means his words and to encourage you. After a moment, you smile and nod.
“Tell me more.” He says.
At his genuine petition, you can’t do anything but carry on, your radiant smile matching his. “Okay.”
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It had been a long time since you had played any of these types of games. But you really do not remember being so bad at it.
After the reading that day, the kids had suggested (or rather insisted) on playing hide and seek.
So here you were, running around the playground trying to find a good place to hide all while questioning your life choices.
Had you really been this bad at hide and seek as a kid? Then again, it is quite easier when you’re much smaller and you can fit almost anywhere. Try doing that as an adult.
You turn a corner of the nearby buildings, entering into a small passage between the back of it and a wall separating the playground zone from the rest of the block. You know that Lily has had to have finished counting already. You don’t have much time left.
In the passage there are some piled up crates leaning against the wall. You consider hiding behind them though you know that it’s not the best hiding place. However, you’re already here and you can’t risk going back into the open space of the playground if you don’t want to get caught.
Just as you start moving towards them a voice whispers your name.
You turn and find that the building has a small space that cuts into it with a back door. Due to the afternoon light, the space is covered in shadows and leaning against the wall you find Jason, hiding. 
You can’t believe that you missed him with his impressive build.
But the place seems to work as a great hiding place, almost in plain sight yet easy to miss. So, when Jason extends a hand inviting you into it, you don’t think twice before taking it.
Next thing you know, your back rests in one of the walls carved into the building that lead to the door and Jason is positioned in front of you in a way that, even if Lily were to pass by and notice you, she would only see him. At least at first.
Jason leans his head out of the space for a second to check if anyone is coming and then he comes back in front of you.
And then your breathing hitches in your throat when you realize just how close you are, even though there is plenty of space in the small opening of the building for you two to stand next to each other without problem. Yet both of you remain in your current position, not daring (nor wanting) to move a muscle.
Suddenly all your nerves are alive and buzzing, your senses heightened and all you can see, hear and feel, is him.
You're hyper aware of everywhere that he’s touching you.
His left hand on your waist.
His right arm at your side, brushing up against yours, shielding you from view.
Your chests almost touching each other.
Your hands on his shoulders, even though you have no idea how they ended up there. The urge to bring him even closer to you, practically irresistible.
You look up to find that his green gaze is already on you. Up this close you notice that there is a slight shade of aquamarine blue in them.
You feel lightheaded and dizzy but in the best of ways. It’s like you’re drunk, even though you have never actually drunk enough to feel like this.
You realize then that you’re drunk on him. You want to drown in him.
Then the scent of his cologne reaches you and you know that you’re intoxicated with this man in front of you.
And the best part is that he seems just as intoxicated with you.
You don’t know how you two get even closer but then his nose is brushing up against yours, your breaths mixing together.
He’s leaning a bit over you so maybe you should feel a bit crowded but you don’t.
You feel safe.
The safest that you have ever been. And the thing is that it doesn't even surprise you. Everything feels easy and safe and warm with him.
Like nothing could ever happen to you with him by your side.
And you’re absolutely addicted to the feeling.
Jason is breathless, as if he has just run a marathon. His breathing as heavy as yours.
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest with how fast it’s going, thrill and anticipation pumping through your veins instead of blood.
Your gaze drops and you suck in a breath when he wets his lips.
Your own tongue darts out to mimic his movement on your own, when you realize that they’re already wet and that he was the one mirroring your previous action.
Your eyes go back up to his and notice that his pupils are dilated. You can’t help but think that yours look probably the same.
It seems like he’s asking a question with that mesmerizing gaze of his and your throat feels dry, as if you haven’t been able to drink water in days and the only person that can alleviate it is Jason Todd.
His gaze flits to your lips once again and returns to your eyes just as fast and they seem to be pleading you.
You can feel yourself nodding almost imperceptibly.
You’re not sure you have wanted anything more in your life. Your stomach flips.
You close your eyes, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.
And then-
“Got you!” Lily’s voice rings out, like shattering glass, breaking the spell and bursting the perfect bubble that you two were in, before your lips are able to make any real contact.
And just like that, you deflate like an old balloon forgotten by a kid in a fair.
You have never been more frustrated in your entire life.
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain your senses, letting your pounding heart beat out the drug that the proximity to Jason Todd is, in order to come back to reality.
When you finally open your eyes, Jason looks just as frustrated and disappointed as you.
Your faces part, putting distance once again between them though your hands remain on his shoulders and his remain on your waist. Part of yourselves still refusing to let go of what had been about to happen, both of your breathings still heavy and deep.
“Come on, it’s your turn now!” Lily exclaims impatiently. She’s too excited about being able to hide now to really notice what was going on between you two.
“We-” Jason stops at how hoarse his voice is and clears his throat. “We’ll be right there.” He finally continues, though his gaze is still fixed on you.
“Great!” Lily chirps and she leaves the way she came, Batbear like always, tight in her grip.
You watch her go and when you look back up at Jason both of you have shy and embarrassed smiles. Sad for the moment that has left and unsure of how to proceed now.
You both suppose that keeping things how they are is the best course of action so very slowly and very reluctantly your hands leave each other. Not sure what to do with them now, since they still feel like magnets being pulled towards each other, Jason runs his hands through his hair and you fix your already perfectly placed clothes.
But as you two make your way towards the center of the playground, you both are hopeful that the moment will come again.
The road might have a few bumps on the way but it still goes on.
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Jason didn’t know how it had gotten so late. He had meant to stop by the bookshop earlier and hopefully, after you closed, go grab dinner with you, as you two sometimes did now. But he had got caught up with patrol stuff with Bruce and now he would be lucky if he managed to catch you before you left.
Thankfully, he’s able to reach the bookshop twenty minutes before you close. But when he enters, you are nowhere to be seen. 
Rose and Jimmy are behind the counter, chattering between them and just like every time that he went into the bookshop and you weren’t there, he felt his whole body deflate. The idea of seeing you always being his driving force.
But just like that other time when he entered knowing that you worked that day but Rose had greeted him, worry begins to settle in him. Had something happened that had made you change your shift? Were you sick?
“Hello, Jason!” Jimmy says when he and Rose notice him.
“Good evening, dear.” Greets Rose.
“Hello. Sorry, didn’t mean to bother, I know you’re about to close.”
“It’s okay, you’re always welcomed.” Jimmy answers.
“It’ll be quick. I just wanted to see if Y/N was here, I-”
“Does this look right, Rose? I feel like-” You say, emerging from the bathroom but then you freeze in your step when you spot him. “Oh, hi, Jason.”
But Jason is unable to answer, in fact, he’s pretty sure that he has forgotten how to breathe because he’s stunned looking at you.
You’re wearing a very nice dress that you must have changed into in the bathroom, and it’s clear that you’ve dressed up for something.
You look beautiful.
You always do but Jason has never seen you so formal and it stirs up something in him. For a second, he can imagine that he’s come to pick you up for a date.
But the joy of seeing you doesn’t last long as he feels his throat dry and he swears that he can feel sweat begin to form at the back of his neck and run down his back. It takes him a second to understand those symptoms and the unsettling feeling in his stomach.
Dread. Panic.
Because what if you actually do have a date?
Had he waited too long? Neither of you were any experts on relationships but it really felt like you two were working towards something. But what if it was too late now? What if he had let time drag on too much and now he was forever stuck in some kind of friend stage? Just like when he didn’t tell you about why he checked out so many children’s books and then it had passed so much time that it became awkward for him to do so.
His mind is in a spiral now, racing with thoughts. In one of your many conversations and hangouts after the very first reading with the kids and the diner, you both had mentioned that neither of you were seeing anybody. It was an off comment, something that you tell a friend without thinking too much about the implications of it.
But the idea hung in the air. The idea that the persons that you two were seeing were each other.
But still, neither of you had said that out loud.
And the thing was that you two weren’t just friends. Or at least that’s what Jason felt like and he thought that you probably thought the same. You two had a connection there and you were heading towards being something else. Slowly but steadily and surely, you were building something.
Right?
Suddenly, he finds himself revisiting every interaction that the two of you have ever had. Every longing look, every soft touch and that oh so wonderful moment while playing hide and seek where you two had almost kissed.
He couldn’t have possibly imagined all of that on his own, could he?
If he thought that the memory of holding your hand while he helped you down the ladder that one time had been haunting, it was nothing compared to that moment.
That moment that had plagued his mind every damn day since.
Everything about it, how you had looked at him, the smell of your hair, your hands on his shoulders, your slightly parted lips, added to everything about you from the very first time he met you, like your smile or the soft tone of your voice, creeping onto his skin and taking a resident place there. Like ivy, carving marks into him, down his arms and up his back, clasping and biting into him, leaving him red and scarred forever.
The difference of those imprints with the scars that he had gained over the years of crime-fighting and suffering was that they didn’t hurt nor weighed him down. Instead, they lifted him up, invigorated him and softly caressed his skin, like your hands taking care of his wounds, reassuring him that everything would be okay. That with you, everything will always be okay. They showed how much someone cared about him and valued him.
The difference being that he would wear your marks proudly. 
And Jason finally decides that he doesn’t want to walk on the tightrope anymore. He wants to let go and fall into the void, take a leap of faith and come clean to you. Tell you that he’s in love with you and that he wants to be yours.
He can only hope that you may lay a safety net beneath him to fall into.
And if he’s not that lucky, he would have another invisible scar added to him, from both crashing into the ground and from having at least tried. And even though that one would hurt, more deeply and a lot longer than any physical one that he may have, you would have given it to him, and he would welcome anything that came from you with open arms.
He doesn’t know how he’s going to do all of that but what he does know is that before anything, he wants to be honest with you. Tell you about being Red Hood. You deserve to know what you’re going to get into (if you even decide that you want to), before you two delve into something deeper.
The only thing is that you two are already there. Too far gone for each other, even though Jason doesn’t know that you are. The one thing that he is certain about is that when he tells you, it will change the foundations of the road that you have been building together.
What Jason isn’t so sure of is if it will destroy them, or make them even stronger.
But something that he does know, is that right now is not the moment for any of that.
So, for the time being, he settles with greeting you back and eventually saying:
“You look… You look great.” Even though that is an understatement.
You smile and shyly look down, your fingers playing with the skirt of your dress.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He says, and while you two are busy looking at each other, you both miss Rose and Jimmy’s knowing looks and smiles. And before he can help it, he’s opening his mouth again. “So, uhm, do you have a date or something?” He tries to say nonchalantly, not wanting to sound too obtrusive, but the doubt killing him.
Your eyes widen and you chuckle, shaking your head.
“What? God no, just fancy family dinner. It’s my parents' anniversary. Since they’re visiting they decided to celebrate together.” You explain, and Jason can feel a wash of relief going over him, his racing heart calming down.
He hasn’t lost his chance.
“Oh, that’s nice. Congrats.”
You nod and grab your things, getting ready to leave before turning to Jimmy and Rose.
“Thanks again for letting me go early.”
“Of course, dear. And don’t worry about the dress, it looks perfect. You look lovely.”
“No problem, sweetie.” Jimmy adds before complimenting you too.
You kiss the couple’s cheeks in thanks before bidding them goodbye, Jason copying your words before opening the door for you.
As you two leave, you see Jimmy whisper something into Rose’s ear while putting an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She chuckles and she kisses his cheek and Jimmy kisses her forehead in return.
Jason smiles at the fond interaction.
“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” You say, still looking at the couple.
“They are.” Jason says, already looking at you. You’re lovely too. “You’re going to the restaurant with your family now?”
“Yeah, I didn’t have enough time to spare after the shift to go back home so I had to change in the bookshop. My parents lend me their car in order to make it.”
Jason nods, trying not to look too disappointed at the fact that he can’t even offer to drive you there, and a comfortable silence settles between you, neither of you wanting to part ways yet.
But you have to go if you don’t want to be late so you sigh before speaking once again.
“I have to go.”
“Yeah.” Jason says, hands in his pockets. “See you soon then.”
“Bye.” You say and you haven’t taken two steps before Jason calls your name. You turn.
“You look very beautiful.” He can’t help but compliment you again.
You feel your whole face heat up.
“Thanks.”
You think about him the whole way to the restaurant but then again, when aren’t you not thinking about Jason Todd?
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Jason has never been more scared in his life. Well, maybe he had, when he was in that damned warehouse. And then later, when he woke up after that without being able to recall who he was or where he was.
But this other type of fear... It's almost paralyzing, threathening to swallow him whole.
He runs as fast as he can, taking long strides, his rugged breathing making him have tunnel vision and only allowing him to focus on one thing.
You.
He hadn’t liked how close the situation had been to the bookshop from the very first moment that they had received the alert. Worry tight in his throat since he had always hoped not to ever have this kind of situation this close to you.
The bookshop’s neighborhood had always been one of the safest in Gotham, there were certain minor crimes, yes, which part of the city didn’t have them? But none of the rogues had ever attacked there.
You had once joked that you thought that the reason for it might be that some of the villains had family living there. You once even said that you could have sworn to have seen the Penguin accompanying an old lady that might have been his mother crossing the street.
Yet still, now an ACE Chemicals truck had been assaulted by Scarecrow and his henchmen. The truck wasn’t even supposed to be in the neighborhood in the first place, but the company and the police had received some information that an attack was being planned and they had decided to detour it.
And now you were in danger.
Jason keeps running with his hands clenched into fists that were turning tighter and tighter by the second.
He can feel sweat gathering on his forehead and he can almost hear a ticking clock hanging over his head as he puts some distance between him and the sickeningly looking mist of muddy green gas that had exploded in the truck.
The very same gas that was quickly spreading along the streets and that would reach the bookshop in a matter of minutes.
The first ones to arrive at the scene had been him and Tim, trying to control the situation until backup could arrive.
Scarecrow’s men were taking over the truck and before leaping into action, Jason threw Tim a look that even with the helmet on, Tim could perfectly understand.
If anything starts going sideways, I’m out of here. Going to her.
Going to you.
Tim was also aware of the fact of how close it all was to the bookshop and he just nodded, knowing how much you mattered to Jason.
They had been able to control the situation more or less as more and more police cars gathered around the truck. But then Scarecrow had finally made his appearance and everything derailed. At first, it seemed like they just wanted to steal from the truck but then something happened and the truck exploded.
Between the chemicals from inside the truck and whatever other things the villain and his gang always brought with them, the gas set off along with the explosion.
Scarecrow and his men scurried off immediately after, giving the feeling that that had certainly not been their desired outcome.
But the gas started spreading and they had no idea what chemicals were inside the truck or what the effects of it could be, but Jason wasn’t going to risk it.
And so, he took a quick glance at Tim, who already had his gas mask on, helping people on the street, and returning his gaze, Tim just nodded.
Go. We handle this here.
And with that, Jason set off.
The bookshop wasn’t actually that far away, just a few blocks, but Jason feels like he’s doing the longest run of his life and that time itself is slowing him down. He has also tried calling you but the line was already overloaded with all the emergency calls.
As he runs, he can hear through his intercom Tim and Steph shouting instructions to everyone nearby and Barbara guiding Bruce to track down Scarecrow.
His heart’s racing and when he finally catches sight of the bookshop, he feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.
The sound of the door slamming open startles you in your place behind the counter. You turn your head to tell the person that had entered to mind their manners when you are met with a red stare that you had only seen in blurry pictures on the news and heard rumors about.
You take in a sharp breath as Red Hood closes the door and approaches you in quick strides. You freeze in your place, not because you are scared of him but because of the surprise of it. Especially when you look him over and your gaze can’t tear away from the brown leather jacket that felt so familiar to you.
Red Hood grabs your wrist, bringing you with him hurriedly into the break room. And though his grip is strong, you’re surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt at all. You can hear him talking and you know that his presence here can’t mean anything good, though not for you of course, you know that Red Hood wouldn’t hurt you, he didn’t hurt innocent people, but something must have happened.
However, you can’t seem to register any of his words, it’s like he’s saying something but you’re underwater, his words sounding muffled and jammed together.
Because for some strange reason you’re still fixated on his jacket.
He sets you down on the floor next to the sofa in the break room and crouches down in front of you. And then he does something that makes your brows furrow in confusion.
He calls you by your name.
How does he even know your name?
You want to ask him but everything feels so confusing right now, like a tornado spinning around you. You only manage to utter a weak “What…?”, before you can’t help it and your hands, with a life of their own, run over his arms, feeling the fabric of the jacket until they reach the lapels and grip them.
Your heart was already racing and your breathing labored from the whole situation but it seemed like they hadn’t reached their limit yet. Though you feel like they are surely about to do so. You can feel your heart go even faster as your mind begins spiraling with thoughts and you suck in a breath when the realization hits you.
Because this… This piece of clothing so characteristic of the vigilante in front of you, you had spent an awful lot of time staring and gawking over the man that wore it several times in your bookshop.
Because this… This is the very same fabric that your hands had touched while you had been inches away from kissing that very same man in an alley while you were playing hide and seek.
Because now that you were able to see it up close, you instantly recognize it.
How could you not? When you had spent so much time with its owner, laughing while you two ate lunch; admiring him when he found an interesting book on the bookshelves; feeling understood when you shared your worries with him; taking the opportunity to touch his arm anytime that you could, covered in this very same jacket, one of the few of this type that he owned; hoping that if you were to tell him how you feel, he would feel the same way; and wishing that you could kiss him without having to worry about the consequences?
Because this jacket belongs to the man that you’re in love with.
Because this jacket… This jacket belongs to Jason Todd.
And then everything clicks, how he works nights, the wounds on his knuckles, his occasional and strange run offs. Suddenly it all feels so blatantly obvious that you wonder how you didn’t see it before.
You know in your gut what it means but your brain is still catching up with everything going on around you to fully make sense of what your heart already knows.
For a quick second, the thought that maybe he shouldn’t wear the same jacket while patrolling and during his day to day, makes you want to start laughing. Though it’s true that unless you saw it more than once, several times and very close, no one would realize that they were the same jacket. But the reality of the situation around you helps you to rein in the inappropriate laugh.
And then your name being called again finally breaks you out of your thoughts, and the only thing that you can focus on is him.
Jason’s gripping your shoulders now, willing you to focus on him and needing to have some kind of contact with you to make sure that you’re okay. He moves frantically, his eyes quickly checking the front door of the bookshop through one of the break room’s windows that look into the main part of the shop, already seeing the mist of gas slipping under it, trying to calculate how much time he has left.
He’s been asking you if you’re okay and trying to explain what has happened but the sentences come out stumbled, his brain going faster than what his mouth can follow.
In his haste he doesn’t even register the change in the look of your eyes at your realization.
He knows what he has to do but he’s afraid of what it will entail. He wanted to sit down with you, tell you about being Red Hood and explain everything to you. He wanted to be hopeful that you may understand but now he doesn’t have the chance to let you know how he would have wanted to.
It feels like someone has pushed him from the tightrope beneath him, directly cutting it, or rather, that it has snapped over his own weight, not able to hold him and his secrets anymore, and now he’s falling and he can’t do anything about it.
And if you would have ever laid a net beneath him, he’s sure that you would cut a hole open in it now.
He’s about to break everything that you two have been working towards, a shattering earthquake destroying what once was a strong and beautiful road.
But it’s the only way to keep you safe.
And he would cut the rope sustaining him himself and willingly fall into the abyss if he had to to make sure that you’re safe. That’s the only thing that matters to him right now.
And that’s exactly what he does.
You watch perplexed as Red Hood takes the helmet off and you’re met with the sharp features and white streak that you love so much.
It really is him.
He’s Red Hood.
Jason is Red Hood.
Jason, who always seemed to be checking out children’s books, wearing leather jackets and making you smile like no one has ever done before.
Your Jason.
Out of the corner of your eye you see a weird mist start to seep through under the door to the break room that Red Hood- no, Jason, had closed after you two entered.
“Jason?” You whisper. He lifts his head up from where he’s been fidgeting with the helmet since he took it off to meet your gaze, and the broken look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it has been stabbed. “What’s going on?” He follows your line of sight and his eyes grow with worry.
“Scarecrow.” He mutters while turning back to the helmet, he pushes a few hidden buttons in it and you’re surprised to see how its panels shift, changing its shape slightly but still having a head-like form.
And then Jason turns to you, his hands lifting with the helmet towards your head.
Your face contorts with horror when you realize what he wants to do.
You immediately grab his forearms, pushing them down and therefore, the helmet too.
“What are you doing?” You say.
“I have to protect you. And we don’t know what the gas does yet so I’m not taking any risks.” He pushes the helmet towards your head once again but you repeat your previous action, preventing him from doing so.
“And you? What about you?” You ask desperately, the gas coming closer and closer towards you both.
Jason’s lips pull into a sad smile. “I’ll be fine.” He whispers. It’s like he has already resigned himself to something. You shake your head.
“No. I’m not taking it.”
“I have a spare small mask, don’t worry.”
You’re still so in shock from everything that you don’t realize that he’s lying, yet in the pit of your stomach you can already feel a pool of dread forming.
“But-” You start but he cuts you off.
“Y/N, listen to me. We don’t have much time. Do you trust me?”
Even with everything that has just happened, you don’t hesitate.
“Always.”
Jason nods and puts the red helmet over your head, the shifted panels allowing it to fit your head perfectly. Jason sighs with relief and looks at you fondly, his hands still on either side of your head.
Your hands come up to cover his own and he nods reassuringly. “You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.
Everything is going to be okay.
But then Jason starts coughing.
The gas has already reached you both and gathers at your ankles.
Your eyes widen and you reach for him as his hands let go of your head to support himself when he begins lulling to one side. “Jason!” You shout.
You can see his eyes losing focus, starting to get dizzy. While your breathing keeps coming in deep and clean thanks to the regulator built in the helmet, Jason seems to be gasping for air, like he isn’t getting enough oxygen or like his lungs are refusing what’s going in them.
And you finally realize that there never was a spare mask.
How could you have been so foolish?
You try to take the helmet off to give it back to him but it’s like it’s closed off. You press the buttons that you find on the underside at the back but nothing happens. You try everything but it just won’t come off.
Nothing.
You can’t take it off.
He must have locked it somehow, almost as if he knew what you would try to do.
You can’t protect him.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” A cough. “ I swear I wanted to tell you.” Another one. “ I was going to.” He says between short breaths before finally collapsing onto the floor.
You grab him before his head hits the ground and you hush him gently.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” Now it’s you the one holding the sides of his face softly.
One of his hands comes up to hold one of your own, and you can’t stand the look of utter adoration and affection with which he gazes at you.
Because you can’t help him.
And his look is as if he would be content to go this way, knowing that at least you’re safe.
And your heart breaks all over again.
The room is covered in gas now and it’s not until your vision becomes slightly blurry that you register the tears welling up in your eyes.
You cry for help but there’s nothing that can be done now. You also try calling 911, not caring what will happen if someone sees that he’s Red Hood. You just need him to be safe. But the line doesn't work. Jason begins to close his eyes.
“Hey, hey, no.” You urge. “Stay with me, stay with me.” Jason opens his eyes once more, fighting to stay awake, but you can see in them how he’s almost gone, his consciousness slipping away from him.
“Please.” You whisper, fighting the tears.
And then his hand holding yours falls limp.
And with it, your heart does too.
You shake him, call him, scream at him to wake up but it’s no use. Tears run down your cheeks now, raked sobs breaking though your chest.
You even try to take off the helmet again but of course, nothing happens.
You feel for his heartbeat, it takes you an agonizing second to feel it but it's there.
Weak and slow, barely perceptible, but it’s there.
Although you fear that probably not for much longer.
Fear and dread run through you, you don’t know how to fix this. You don’t want to let him go but he’s being pulled away from you.
And then the door to the break room bursts open.
You look up and there Red Robin stands.
And the way in which he shakes his hair away from his eyes with a movement of his head while looking around the room frantically, trying to locate you through the mist, makes your breath hitch in realization for the second time in the last few minutes.
Tim.
Then he notices Jason’s unconscious body in your arms and when his gaze meets yours, even with the helmet on he knows what you want to say.
Save him.
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Your shifts at the bookstore have never felt longer. You had become so used to him and come to rely on his visits so much that now, without him, they only drag on and on and on, something that had never even happened before.
Even before him.
Your only solace being that he’s alive.
You often have to remind yourself of that fact when the memory of the fear of losing him claws back at you.
Jason is alive. He is okay.
After Tim found you two, he launched towards Jason, checking his vitals and addressing his state.
He told you that he needed to bring Jason to the batcave as soon as possible and you had immediately grabbed Jason’s hand, refusing to let go of him and profusely saying that you were going with him.
But Tim had only shook his head, explaining how Jason would kill him if he ever allowed you to not go to the hospital for a check up.
But you had fought him with tooth and nails, saying that you weren’t leaving his side anytime soon and Tim had no other option but to give up.
However, just as Tim was calling for Steph to come and help him with Jason quickly, you passed out.
Whether because of all the emotions and stress of those five minutes (because yes, since Jason first entered into the bookshop to protect you, it had only been five minutes, maybe even less), or because due to the shifted panels in the helmet, some gas had managed to slip in, you didn’t know.
Probably more the later than the former but still.
Next thing you knew, you woke up in the hospital. Thankfully without the helmet, Tim having probably managed to unlock it.
Through the doctors, nurses, and the news on the TV in the ER, you learned that the gas was dangerous but thankfully non-lethal. In most cases, like yours, people in the neighborhood who had only inhaled a bit just felt dizzy for a few hours or passed out for a bit.
In other cases, the most serious ones, like Jason’s, people were put into a coma-like state, with the lungs rendered to a point of near-exhaustion. But with good rest and the appropriate care, they would recover soon with no side effects.
Batman had managed to apprehend Scarecrow and just like the vigilantes had suspected from the beginning, it wasn’t a deliberate attack but a robbery gone wrong.
They let you go of the hospital that very same afternoon, with instructions that if you felt any kind of dizziness to come back. After your family (and Rose and Jimmy of course) checked in with you, you were finally able to grab a hold of your phone that had been left in the bookshop.
You were met with a text from Tim, how he had managed to get your number, you didn’t know, but it probably had something to do with the fact that all the Waynes were part of the Batfamily.
Or at least, that’s what you figured, once you were finally able to think with a clear head and digest all of your recent discoveries.
The text said that Jason had made it to the batcave safely, that he had been treated immediately and that he was resting now.
You have never been more grateful for anything in your life.
But that had been a week and a half ago. And you hadn’t seen Jason since.
You felt like a part of you had been ripped out and taken along with him. The absence of a vital organ leaving you empty.
Probably your heart, since it had left your chest and leaped itself into Jason’s hands a long time ago.
The neighborhood had been deemed safe after the gas dissipated and you were back to your job like nothing had ever happened, just like how it often was after any incident with a rogue in Gotham.
Life just went on. Gotham and its residents as resilient as ever. The fight and survival etched onto their DNA.
If there ever was something to admire Gotham for, its survival skills were definitely it.
You had wanted to see Jason immediately, and you had even called Tim so that he could tell you more about Jason’s state and tried to see when you could go see him but then your mother had called.
Your uncle had had an accident at work and he would need surgery.
Though there was some risk, it wasn’t a extremely dangerous procedure. But if there was something that all of your family had in common and that was characteristic of all of you, was that if something happened to someone, every single member of the family would come running to be there.
And you knew that you had to be there, you wanted to be there, but it still tore at your insides having had to leave without having being able to see Jason. But your uncle lived on the other side of the country and you had to take a plane that very same night to be able to arrive before the surgery the next day.
So, you had called Tim back, telling him that you had to leave, how bad you felt, how sorry you were and that you would try to come back as soon as possible. But Tim assured you that it was okay, that they would all take care of Jason, that it would take him a couple of days to wake up and be fully conscious and that he understood (and that Jason would too) that you had to go.
You nodded, trying to hold back tears and muff your sniffling due to all the stress that had taken a hold of you due to all the recent events. Tim had calmed you down and promised you to keep you updated. Helping you just like you had done when you met him.
Thank god for Tim Drake. You’re pretty sure that you would have lost it if it weren’t because of him. His reassurance a sign of a friendship for a lifetime.
And so, you left. Everything went well with your uncle and you were glad to have been able to see your family for a few days since quite a long time ago.
But when you came back, Jason wouldn’t see you.
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It took Jason two days to wake up from the coma-like state, though he had been getting better and better with each passing hour, and a full day of only eating and sleeping before he was able to return to normalcy.
Still, when he first woke up, the only thing in his foggy brain was you. He asked about you as soon as he opened his eyes and Tim told him that you were okay but that you had to leave for a few days due to a family emergency, and that you had called every day several times to check in.
Jason let out a sigh of relief. Both because you were safe and because he didn’t know how he would have faced you if you had been there.
He was sure that you hated him now. Despised him. Sure, you had called to see how he was, but that’s just how you were, caring and protective. But deep down, he knew that you had to resent him for having hidden being Red Hood from you.
He was sure that if he saw you, the first thing that you would do was scream at him and tell him that you didn’t want him in your life anymore.
And he wouldn’t be able to bear that.
He didn’t know how he could ever go back to a life without you.
That’s why he refused to see you everytime that you reached out after you came back. Letting his phone ring out when you called, later just sending a quick text saying that he was fine, that he was just busy with some things in order to not worry you. He knew that it was unfair and that he was being an idiot but he didn’t know what he would do if he saw you, even though he knew that he eventually would have to.
And yet, despite all of that, he still couldn’t bring himself to fully cut ties with you. He simply couldn’t. Needing you at least in some way in his life just as much as he needed air. As well as the fact that he knew that he couldn't do something like that to you, at least not without explaining.
It wasn’t until Tim cornered him and talked some sense into him that he realized that he couldn’t put it off any longer. 
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When Jason enters the bookshop, a chill runs through him as he shakes the drops of water from his hair. He had dreaded every single step that he took towards the bookshop, a cloud of shame hanging over his head. And then the universe had decided that he wasn’t miserable enough and so that cloud of shame had quite literally started to pour on him. He couldn’t help but think that he deserved it but still, it sucked.
He usually liked rain. Just not when he didn’t have an umbrella and was tethering on the edge of sanity while trying to hold the composure that he had created to give him the strength necessary to face you. And certainly not when he was holding a hot chocolate that he had bought for you; having already lost count of how many times he had previously done so when he came to visit you, in a sad attempt at a peace offering, even though he was sure that you would dump it on him; but that now surely was just cold chocolate.
Shit. He really was going to look like even more of an idiot than he already was.
“Jason?” Your soft voice comes through, like an antidote calming him instantly and soothing all his worries. Your presence, like always, making all of his dark thoughts go away.
Though that peace didn’t last long because you were here now and he couldn’t run now. He had to do what he had come to do.
Even though he still wasn’t sure what exactly that was, no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself. Had he come to apologize? Explain? Beg for your forgiveness? He had no idea.
It didn’t matter anymore because as usual, all his thoughts and working brain cells flew out of the window when he was near you. This time even more so than usual since he had never gone this long without seeing you. He just stands there, soaked from the rain on the entrance doormat, like a wet cat begging to be let home again after causing trouble and running out.
And you’re just standing there, in the doorway of the break room, looking at him like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, as if he was some mythological creature and you didn’t dare to move an inch, either in order not to scare him away or because you were petrified in fear, Jason didn’t know.
And he’s just rendered speechless. His breath taken away from him as he takes you in for what possibly is the last time, trying to commit every part of your beautiful self to memory, all of those parts that he already knows by heart, before you kick him out of the bookshop and out of your life forever.
“Yeah.” He finally responds.
Great, Jason. Very eloquent.
No turning back now.
He gulps.
“Hi.” He adds, trying to act with normalcy but he winces when he realizes that it doesn’t match the situation at all. There really is no way of making this any easier, is there?
He expects you to start yelling at him, push him, anything. But you just keep staring at him. And then:
“God, you’re drenched. Wait here.” You disappear for a second and Jason can’t believe what has just happened, a bewildered look in his eyes. He expected anything but that. But he obeys, doing whatever you asked of him in his very nature, trying to move as little as possible so that he would only drop water onto the doormat. You return quickly and hand him a towel after taking the hot (cold) chocolate from his hands so that he can dry up a bit. 
You put the cup onto the counter as he shakes his boots on the mat, dries his face and ruffles the towel through his hair. When he finishes you approach him once again.
“Here, let me take your jacket. You're going to freeze.” Jason feels like he’s on autopilot as he follows your every direction, like a sailor the call of a siren. Not daring to move a single muscle or do any abrupt movement other than what’s necessary, afraid of breaking whatever is happening right now.
You hang his jacket on the coat rack by the door to dry a bit and then you turn back to him.
There’s a moment of silence, the only noise being the rain’s soft pattering against the windows, the dark clouds filtering the setting sun, casting the bookstore in a gloomy atmosphere though the place still maintains its warm glow from the few lamps turned on with a yellow and orange glow.
The place is quiet, not a single soul in the bookshop except you two. Jason made sure of coming around closing time so that you could be alone, without any other customers interrupting and, even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, the small hope of finding the bookshop closed and therefore having the perfect excuse to delay this another day.
But of course, the universe wasn’t going to have it. He never was that lucky.
Jason is so stupefied that he doesn’t move from the doormat as you take a couple of steps closer to him and look him over. Assessing him. Studying him. He avoids your gaze, not knowing what to do under your scrutiny.
He might as well be a cactus now with how rooted he is to the goddamn doormat. And then he sees how your feet join his on it and he can’t help the chill that runs through him once again, but not from the cold this time, but from your intoxicating proximity, so reminiscent of the one from the ghost kiss in the alley.
This is it, he thinks. This is when you finally push him from your life forever.
But then you surprise him once again, when without any trace of hesitation nor fear you touch his face. Sofly cradling it as if you might still care about him.
He doesn’t understand anything that’s going on right now. He has never been more confused in his entire life.
After so many months, Jason had come to know you in such a way, so intricately well, that he could read you like a book. Just like you with him. But now, Jason is seriously questioning that because he has no idea what is going through your mind right now.
He finally gathers the courage to look at you, still afraid of what he’s going to find, but you’re not even looking at him.
Your gaze is fixated upon the small cut at the end of his left eyebrow.
A reminder of the Red Hood duty from the night before. How he had managed to get a wound there even with the helmet on, he had no idea.
He sees your eyebrows furrow and your expression change to one of worry.
And then your hands run down his sides until they take a hold of his, inspecting them over after taking the towel from them.
And you sigh, disappointed in finding what you hoped not to be there. The skin on his knuckles broken once again.
Jason feels like a stranded boat, lost at sea, the water around him lulling him to its will.
That’s you.
The rain continues on as you turn slightly and flip the sign of the bookshop to closed before locking the door.
As a lightning strikes in the distance, flashing momentaneous light into the bookshop and illuminating your soft features, you take Jason’s hand and just like several times before, you drag him to the break room, but this time, instead of on a chair by the table, you sit him down on the sofa.
And he lets you. He gladly lets the sea take his boat wherever it wants to. Even if it’s to his own demise.
You take the blanket resting on the arm of the couch and drape it over him, making sure that it stays on his shoulders before you take the towel back to the bathroom and for the third time, you grab the first aid kit there.
You return to the break room and not even your shuffling steps make his lost gaze go towards you.
Despite his big frame you had never seen him so small, curled onto himself, head hung in shame; and it makes your heart clench. He looks deep in thought, grabbing the edges of the blanket so that it stays wrapped around him, as if he’s contemplating how to say whatever he has come to say to you.
But you don’t care. He could stay quiet the whole time if he wanted to.
Because at least he was here.
And honestly, your first instinct at seeing him back in the bookshop had been to run to him and hug him like your life depended on it and never let him go. But you had ultimately decided against it, not wanting to scare him away.
His presence there still felt almost like a mirage to you, after having gone so long without seeing him for the first time ever since you met him.
So, it was a very welcomed step from just sending you short texts letting you know he was still alive and well.
And you couldn’t blame him. Like always, you two worked by taking your own time, giving each other space.
And you knew that Jason had a lot on his mind after the gas incident. In the chaos of it all, he had told you that he had wanted to tell you about being Red Hood before and you wholeheartedly believed him, knowing that it wasn’t something that you could just tell anyone at any given moment. And now he had to deal with the reality that now you knew about that part of his life.
And you had a feeling that he thought that you would push him away for it. Resent him. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Because now you saw the whole picture that Jason Todd was.
And you know what?
He still was your Jason.
He still was the man that you were in love with.
Someone to whom you felt connected in a way that you had never felt before. Someone that was your friend and that always managed to make you smile. Someone that was always there for you when you had a bad day. Someone that reads to kids in his free time. Someone that tries to make this city better and protects its people as a vigilante. Someone who goes out of his way to visit you, a completely normal and ordinary woman who runs a simple bookshop. Someone that didn’t hesitate in sacrificing his own safety for yours.
Yeah, you were still very much in love with that man.
And if he needed some time to come back to you, that was fine with you because you knew that he wouldn’t just leave you like that. During the last few days you could even have sworn to have seen him peering through the windows into the bookshop in passing, but when you focused a bit more, he was gone. Or at least that’s what you hoped, the string pulling you two together too strong. 
No matter how much it had pained you to have the person holding your heart keeping you at arm’s length.
Because a day or two more of waiting and you would have stormed into wherever Jason was and told him how much he meant to you until that stubborn head of his realized how you weren’t ever letting him go.
You also hoped that he didn’t resent you, for not having been able to be at his side when he woke up. Something that you will never forgive yourself for, no matter how you knew that it couldn’t have been any other way.
You sit down next to him and place the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of the sofa, getting all that you will need to heal his wounds ready. You take one more look at them and your heart clenches.
You don’t like how he doesn’t seem to take full care of himself.
Because to you, Jason Todd was a treasure. A treasure that you will never be sure how you had managed to be able to find.
And he should be treated just like one.
And that’s exactly what you intend to do.
You follow the same process as the last time to take care of his knuckles, Jason quiet and avoiding your gaze the whole time, before moving onto the cut on his brow.
You raise your hand with a cotton patch to put some antiseptic on it and your eyes finally meet his. The green in them, like always, lighting up your insides, a forest in which you would gladly get lost in.
Jason looks at you as one of your hands takes a hold of his chin to tilt his head while the other one begins treating the cut.
And Jason feels like dying when he sees the flash of pain that crosses your eyes because he knows that he’s the one who put it there.
From the very first time that you healed him, he could see how you didn’t like seeing him hurt. Yet he still had let you see his wounds and tend to them more times after that.
He really usually does tend to his wounds. Except that very first time with his knuckles that he had been so tired he had only cleaned them. But after feeling your soft hands taking care of him for the first time, it was like he didn’t want his wounds healed anymore unless it was you the one who did it.
And so, subconsciously, selfishly and guiltily, he barely tended to them, just what was strictly necessary, a desperate attempt and blind hope of you maybe wanting to heal him in order to feel your delicate touch, that Jason was sure did a lot more for his wounds than whatever any kind of medicine could do.
Your touch not only mending his wounds but also healing his soul and soothing all the bad thoughts in his mind.
But right now, Jason wants nothing more than to get on his knees and do whatever you ask of him. Anything to make the slight hurt that briefly passes your eyes go away. Beg if it's necessary.
He thinks that apologizing may be a good starting point.
“Y/N…” He begins but before he can go on any further you hush him, almost like you want to enjoy the silence and this moment of intimacy as much as possible.
Then you reach for the first aid kit again, taking a steri-strip from a pack that you had bought, along with some other extra items, knowing that the basics of a normal first aid weren’t going to be enough now that you knew that he was Red Hood.
You put it on the cut, careful of not hurting him. Jason watches you mesmerized, still not believing that you haven’t kicked him out yet.
Then, you take a normal band-aid to put over the strip, just to be extra safe but mainly because you want to see him smile.
“Is that a Hello Kitty band-aid?” He asks in disbelief, breaking the silence, as he watches you open the band-aid with the pink, red and white doodles.
“Yup.” You say as you put it, covering the cut and fully hiding it from view, Jason not putting any kind of resistance to it. And your heart clenches blissfully at the small smile that pulls at Jason’s lips. Oh, how much you had missed it, your own personal kind of drug. And you can’t help but mirror him too.
“Thanks.” He whispers once you’re done patching him up. You give a slight nod in return.
You pass your thumb softly over the band-aid to make sure that it doesn’t fall off and then you meet Jason’s eyes again, that look just like a kicked puppy’s. Shining with oncoming tears and wide in fear of what is going to come next.
“I owe you an explanation.” He finally says with a sigh of resignation and you shake your head.
“Jason, you don’t-”
“No, let me do this. I need to do this. It’s the least I can do, I owe it to you.” He says, taking your hands in his, one of which still was caressing his eyebrow and stares at them as he can’t help but begin to rub soft circles into the back of them.
Goosebumps raise all over your skin.
Jason takes a deep breath before he starts talking. It seemed like you still cared about him but would you still do so once he finally explained everything and told you the truth?
He didn’t want to get his hopes up. But he knows that he can’t delay this anymore. He doesn’t want to.
As he begins, a cracking thunder sounds in the distance, shaking the foundations of the road that you two have been building together to its core.
The question being, would it stand the storm?
You listen to him intently. He doesn’t look at you once, instead deciding to focus on your joined hands. Grabbing onto a last part of you before he lets you go forever.
“And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I totally understand that you may not want to see me anymore. I betrayed your trust and that’s unforgivable. Some of the things that I’ve done…” He shakes his head. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. You mean so much to me. And even though it breaks me having to remove myself from your life, I know that it’s for the best.”
“Jason, I-”
“No, no. Let me finish please.” He continues ranting. “I promise you that I won’t let the feelings that I have for you get in the way. I will go out that door tonight and never come back again. I’ll let you get on with your life.”
You’re fairly sure that he doesn’t even realize half the things that he’s saying. It’s like he has opened a gate and now not only is he apologizing and telling you the truth about everything, but he’s also letting his feelings for you finally come to the surface, unable to stop himself. He’s so caught up in everything that he leaves them out in the open without even realizing it.
And you just want to smile. Because Jason Todd has feelings for you too. And he has just said it out loud. You try to conceal your beaming smile to not scare him away. He’s way too much into his own head now, spiraling around the fact that he has to remove himself from your life as some sort of self-imposed punishment and in order to at least spare himself a part of the pain that would come from you outright kicking him away.
But you would never do that. Because even with everything that he has just told you and the things that he hasn’t yet, because you know that his story is a lot longer than what an evening can hold and holds a lot more things and very much darker ones than what he has revealed for the moment, you still want to be here with him. You still want him in your life.
Nothing could make you want to stay away from Jason Todd.
Not even himself.
And if there’s one thing that you’re stubborn about is that you’re always there for the people that you care about.
You just need to make him see that. To make him see how important he is to you. And you’re going to do everything you can so that he does.
You call his name again, trying to center his attention back to you but he keeps rambling.
You can only think of one thing that might finally make him stop and listen to you while also making him realize how you feel about him.
You have never done something as bold as this before. And there’s still a knick of doubt in the back of your mind, but the mere possibility of Jason leaving and the fact that the safety line that you two had drawn about your friendship and your feelings is fully difuminated now after his unintentional confession, almost as if it had never actually been there, has you determined. You want to think that it would turn out right.
And if not, at least you would get to do something that you had wanted to do for a very long time.
So, after firmly saying his name once more, and one of your hands getting out of his hold and tilting his head towards you, just when his eyes finally, finally, lock with yours for a quick second, you press your lips to his.
It’s not a long kiss and there isn’t much movement but you hope that you’re conveying everything that you feel for him and more. You can tell that Jason’s caught by surprise but it doesn’t take long at all for him to slowly press his lips against yours, returning your kiss. He lets himself melt into it and you do too. You feel warm all over and then you both sigh against each other, the two of you having fallen off the tightrope and finding that not only there’s a safety net beneath you, but an infinite number under it, one after the other, in the impossible case that one might break.
A soft place to land, a warm embrace.
You think that you could die happily right now.
You part, not wanting to overwhelm him but just from that taste you can already feel yourself slightly dizzy in the best kind of way. You slowly open your eyes and see Jason already looking at you, not believing what has just happened. You take a deep breath. Might as well put the nail in the coffin now. Cement the road.
“I’m in love with you Jason. All that makes you be you. Including being Red Hood. And I’m not going anywhere. And I really, really hope that you aren’t either.” You whisper.
“I’m a mess.”
You tilt your head with a small smile. “Aren’t we all?”
“Are you sure?” He whispers back, caressing your hair, still giving you an out, a last chance for you to escape him and all his problems, before his instincts take over and he latches himself onto you forever and never lets you go.
You nod, not faltering in your resolve. “Yes.”
“I’m in love with you too. I love you.” He says next and nothing has ever felt so liberating. Jason feels light, floating. And all he wants to do now is say it over and over again, just in case that you might still not be aware of how much he loves you.
“Good. That’s very, very good. I love you too.” You giggle, pressing your forehead to his, your noses brushing each other. Jason grins.
“Can you do that again?” He asks, his gaze dropping to your lips, already knowing that the day that he goes by without tasting them will be torture.
Your smile widens even more, if that’s even possible, and you kiss him once again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
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After that, everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.
Except that now, he also kissed you everytime he did so.
Except that now, you went on very official dates, not ones that could be mistaken by a friendly hangout.
Except that now, you paid a lot more attention to any news about Red Hood.
Except that now, you always patched him up.
Except that now, you spent nights in each other's beds.
And right now, you’re very confused.
Your brows knit as you try to understand what is in front of you. The computer screen showing the details of a book order that you had made for the bookshop a while ago but that hadn’t arrived, not making any sense.
You’re so concentrated that you barely register the jingle of the bell above the entrance door. Out of the corner of your eye you feel a figure come to stand in front of the counter.
“Just a second, please. I’ll be right with you.” You say almost automatically, trying to see if you can just wrap your head around what you’re reading on the screen, though you doubt that a few more seconds will make any difference. But still, you’re adamant to try.
“It’s okay. I’m just looking for my girlfriend.” The figure says and your head lifts up so fast at the voice that you should be worried about getting whiplash. But you don’t care.
Because there he is.
Jason Todd.
Your boyfriend.
You still feel giddy inside every time that you think about it.
You let out a small gasp before your lips twist into a wide smile and you might as well be The Flash with how quickly you round the counter and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Jason’s smile is just as radiant as yours as he watches you come to him and gets ready for when you crash into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and giving you a slight spin when your feet lift off the floor due to the force of your hug.
He closes his eyes and breathes you in while he hugs you and brings you even closer to him, if that’s even possible. Your bodies merged into one in your embrace.
Never in his wildest dreams would Jason have ever thought that he would find himself in this situation. One in which you rush to meet him glowing with happiness. One in which he gets to kiss you without the fear of being rejected and one in which he’s able to call himself yours. He never would have believed any of that when he stepped foot into the bookshop that fateful night, which he was sure would be the last time he would ever get to see you.
He still can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you want him. That you accept all of his demons and that you help him fight them. That you love him. He will never take it for granted.
God, he loves you so much.
Your feet touch the floor once again but he doesn’t let go. He lets his senses overwhelm with you, everything about you enveloping him and not letting him feel anything that isn’t you. Your scent, the feel of your hair tickling his cheek, your arms around him. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.
He’s finally home.
Two weeks and a half is too long without you.
You think the very same about him as you do the exact same with him, your senses taking every part of him in, committing him to memory once again, even though you already know them like the back of your hand.
The feel of his soft hair as you run your fingers through it, just like you had dreamed so many times before, the scent and feel of his leather jacket beneath your arms.
God, you love him so much.
You finally pull back and look up at him with stars in your eyes. And then, without sparing another second, he dips down to kiss you. Or you pull up to kiss him, you’re not sure.
The only thing that matters is that his lips are finally back on yours and that’s all you need to know. You kiss him deeply, savoring him after being apart for so long and he kisses you back just as eagerly, loving the feeling of finally having you back in his arms.
And just like everytime that you kissed, like the very first time, it feels like a dream. Because you still can’t believe that he’s yours and that you’re his.
It was a long time coming.
But it turns out that you two are still human and therefore still need to breathe, so you both pull away but only what is strictly necessary to regain your breaths. Your chests and foreheads are still pressed together and lips inches from each other, so close that you can’t tell which breaths are his and which breaths are yours.
Your fast beating hearts falling into the same rhythm, syncing once again, going as one.
One of your hands holds the side of his face, softly caressing his cheek, so smooth that he must have shaved that very same morning. You feel his grip on your waist tighten.
“What are you doing here?” You finally say between giggles, the drug of his proximity, like always, making pure happiness run through your veins.
“Wrapped the case early.” He answers breathlessly before not being able to resist anymore and kissing you again.
You can’t help the smile on your lips while you kiss him and you can feel another one pulling at his own. When you separate once again you smile at each other, your eyes shining with love and affection for one another.
Jason had left earlier that month to help Dick with a case in Blüdhaven for a few days but then the thing had gotten bigger and dragged them all the way to Metropolis, making his trip longer than what he had first anticipated.
And then earlier in the week he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to return until the end of it. But here he was. Holding you in his arms and kissing you on a peaceful Wednesday afternoon.
“Everything went well?” You ask, not daring to tear your eyes away from his, only perhaps to steal a quick look at his lips.
“Yeah. All good.”
Before either of you can say anything else or even try to kiss each other again, Rose, Jimmy and Charlie, all of whom had been chatting over coffee in the break room, emerge at all the fuss.
“What’s all this?” Says Charlie with a smile as you and Jason disentangle, though he keeps you tucked into his side with a respectful arm around your waist.
“Just a young lovers reunion, Charlie.” Answers Rose.
“Sorry for intruding on, kiddos.” Adds Jimmy.
“It’s okay.” You say.
“You must be this Jason that I’ve heard so much about.” Charlie comments.
“Yes, sir. And you must be the famous Charlie. Nice to meet you.” Jason answers while shaking his hand, though not before throwing you a glance that makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and hide your face in his shoulder for a second. So you talked about me too huh?
“You too. My grandchildren are going to be devastated that you’re with someone now, darling.” Charlie says jokingly towards you now.
“Sorry, Charlie.” You respond with an apologetic smile.
“It’s good to see you, sweetie.” Says Rose to Jason to which Jimmy nods in agreement.
“It’s great to be back home.” He answers and you feel his hand give your waist a slight squeeze.
Shivers run down your spine.
You look up at Jason lovingly, a gaze that he returns, and you’re so lost in each other that neither of you see the smiles and look of recognition that the elders have in their faces, having themselves experienced a love like yours that still lasted to this day.
“Go, honey. Take the rest of the day.” Rose offers. You turn to her surprised but you can’t help but to also be excited at the possibility of going out with Jason already. Maybe to see Lily and the other kids, since Jason hadn’t seen them since he left, though you had of course shown up to check on them and continue with the readings, or maybe to eat something at Millie and Ruby’s.
But you don’t care as long as Jason’s with you. There were so many possibilities and you two had all the time in the world. And you were going to seize every single second of it. You two had wasted enough time already.
You also already know that Jason’s either spending the rest of the week at your apartment or you’re spending it at his.
“Are you sure?” You ask Rose.
“Yeah, go have fun, kids.” Jimmy confirms. You thank them before smiling brightly at Jason and then going to get your bag and coat.
As you and Jason make your way towards the door, Charlie speaks up once again.
“You’re treating her right, I suppose.”
Jason looks at you as he opens the door of the bookshop before turning back to Charlie.
“Always.” He says without hesitating and Charlie nods, glad with his answer.
The elders watch you go, happy that you two have each other. They watch how Jason moves the hand on the small of your back to take your hands between his and blow into them to warm them up in the cold Gotham air. And how you then zip his jacket all the way up, adjusting the collar so that it would protect him as much as possible, both of you smiling and looking at each other fondly, before you disappear from their view hand in hand.
Because as it turns out, it isn’t really a surprise when the road stays as strong and sturdy as ever after that cracking thunder.
Because that night, the days after and over time, Jason told you everything. About his past, about his family. And over time all that you did was fall even more for him, loving every part, every scar that he decided to show you. And he did the exact same for you.
Because in the end, he still was your Jason, the kind and handsome young man who always checked out children’s books and wore leather jackets.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters
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~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~
-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.
You are devastated.
You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.
You can’t believe John turned out that way.
Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.
You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.
You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.
Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.
Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.
You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.
“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.
“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”
“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?” 
“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” 
“No?”
“No. I think you have a mean streak.” 
He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.
God, are you really such a fool?
“Doesn't everyone?” 
You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound. 
“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”
“Like last night? I didn't like that.”
The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?
“Yes you did.”
“Not the last part.”
“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”
In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.
“My fanny.”
He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.  
You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.
“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.
How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?
“Why did you leave me, like that?”
You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.
“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.
Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.
“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”
“No.”
“Disobeying you did.”
“Yes.”
“That’s kinda fucked up.”
“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”
“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.
“Yes, you, kitten.”
The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue. 
“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?” 
“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”
He was a little more than that, you reckoned.
“You want to control me.”
“That’s part of it.”
“Why?”
He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”
You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”
You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”
He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.
The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.
You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.
“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”
The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”
Your heart drops to your feet.
“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.
That was in Rome, after all.
What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…
“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”
“I’ve been protecting you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”
You frown at this.
“So…you think I’m stupid?”
“No, of course not.”
“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”
“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”
The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.
For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.
“How do you know about the monsters, John?”
“I just know.”
“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”
He glares at you, which you take as a no.
“Interpol?”
You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.
“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.
“Were you in the mob?”
“Not…specifically.”
Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.
“Bratva, then.”
You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.
“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.
“Not clever enough,” you sigh.
You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.
You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.
Not with John Wick, though.
“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.
He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”
“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.
“Enjoying this?”
“A little.”
“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”
He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.
The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.
Well, fuck.
“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”
“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.
“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”
He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.
“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”
“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.
“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.
You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.
That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.
However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.
“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.
When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.
“Holy fuck.”
“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.
Utterly horrified, you run.
“Y/n, wait!”
You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.
It’s not fast enough.
When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.
Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.  
“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”
Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.
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wheresarizona · 3 months
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giiiirl if you say Cielito is bi in your mind now I need to know if she like came out to Javi or how she approached the topic like was she scared of how he was going to react? I need to know everything pleeeease
Brunettes
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summary: Javier asks a question you aren't expecting.
rating: T (coming out, language, Javi's continued hate of Harrison Ford)
pairing: Javier Peña/bi!reader
words: 793
a/n: Okay, okay, okay, I’ll tell you my bi!Cielito coming out headcanon. Now, again, this is just how I imagine things would go down. So, Javi figures it out on his own. Lmao I've written you a drabble on how the conversation would go. I hope you enjoy!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Series Masterlist
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It was a lazy Saturday afternoon that was being spent in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt as you lay atop your boyfriend’s bare chest on the couch. Your ear was to his skin, and you were soothed by his heart's strong, steady beat while you watched some romantic comedy playing on cable.  
“She’s so fucking gorgeous,” you said without thinking—you were pretty sure the actress’s name was Salma Hayek.
“I guess.”
You moved to look at his face. 
“You guess? Do you have eyes?”
He looked at you with a frown. 
“Yeah, I do have eyes, and I think you’re even more gorgeous.”
You scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
He pinched your ass, and your body tensed. “Stop that shit—I’m serious.”
You sighed, having a hard time believing he was telling the truth. “Fine.”
He grabbed a handful of your backside, and you both went back to lying on him and watching the movie. 
A few minutes later, he broke the silence. “Cielito?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna ask you something, and you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious.”
“Okay…?”
“Are you… also attracted to women?”
The question had your heart rate speeding up. 
“Um, wow, we probably should’ve talked about this sooner. I mean, we’ve been together for almost a month.”
It wasn’t something you’d been hiding from him. You just hadn’t known how to bring it up. 
“Your answer isn’t going to change anything,” he reassured. 
That made you feel better. 
“It wouldn’t bother you?”
“Why would it bother me? I don’t care if you’re attracted to men or women. All I care about is that you’re attracted to me.”
“I’m definitely attracted to you.”
“I know.”
“And yes, I do fancy ladies and dudes—I had a lot of fun in college. What gave me away?” 
“You mean besides when we watched Star Wars last week, and you thought I didn’t hear you whisper, ‘I’d love to be the middle in a Han and Leia sandwich’?”
“Oh, god, I’ve been obvious,” you said, pressing your forehead to his chest. 
He rubbed his hands over your back. “Yeah, you have.” 
You frowned, lifting your head to look at him. “You must hate it when I say someone else is attractive.” 
He met your eyes with a raised eyebrow. “Are you gonna fuck them?” 
“What? No.” 
“Are you gonna leave me for them?” 
“No. It’s never even crossed my mind.” 
“You can’t help if you find other people attractive—so no, I don’t hate it.” 
“Good—”
“—Unless,” he cut you off with a grumpy look, “it’s that asshole who plays Han Solo, ‘cause I’m pretty sure you have a crush on him with how many of his fucking movies you’ve seen and all the shit you know about him.” 
“Harrison Ford?” 
“Fucking Harrison Ford.” 
“Are you… jealous of Harrison Ford…?”
“No,” he answered a little too quickly. 
“Sure, Javi,” you said in a tone that said you didn’t believe him. 
“I’m not fucking jealous.” He smacked your ass, and you laughed. “He should be jealous that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.” 
“See—then there’s no reason to hate the guy since I’m dating you and only want you.” Leaning forward, you kissed him. You pulled back and asked, “Is it just because he’s a man it bothers you so much I like him? Or would you feel the same if it was a woman?”
He was pouting. “I’d feel the same…”
“Good.” You kissed the tip of his nose. 
“Is there a famous woman you like as much as that Ford guy?”
“Oh, I’m gonna let you figure that out on your own since you’ve got that big, sexy brain, and I wanna see if you can.”
You could see him thinking hard as he looked away with his eyes a little squinted. 
“Are you really trying to figure it out right this second?” you asked. 
“Hold on.”
“You’re not gonna figure it out a minute after asking the question.”
“There’s this actress,” he started, “I’ve noticed in a bunch of shit we’ve watched I thought might be your favorite, but I’m realizing you’ve just got a thing for brunettes.” He looked at you. “I don’t know her name, but I’m pretty sure it’s the woman in that movie we watched Thursday night.”
Your mouth fell open. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“Am I right?”
“I’m just so fucking obvious.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“You wanna know who I have the biggest fucking crush on?”
He frowned. “…sure.”
“This amazingly perfect guy named Javier Peña who has me head over heels for him.”
He smiled. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah—“ You leaned forward to kiss him, continuing to speak against his lips, “—I’d pick you over the other two in a heartbeat.”
“Good.”
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Series Masterlist
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its-time-to-write · 9 months
Note
jamie and reader used to date before he went back to his old team and broke reader’s heart 💔 now he’s back and wants reader back ANGST AND FLUFF PLEASEEE
I’ve been thinking about this request since FOREVER so I hope I did it justice!!
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wonder what it’d be like
You don’t get paid enough for this shit.
“So you do know Jamie Tartt?” asks some journalist doing some piece on some footballer crap. You don’t know and you don’t care.
“If you’re not going to order anything, I’m going to get my boss and have you removed from the premises,” you reply, undeterred in your mission to wipe down empty tables. Brian loves his coffee shop and is fiercely protective of both his employees and his peaceful atmosphere. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s kicked someone out.
“Well, do you have any comment on the fact that he said you were the love of his life?”
You don’t miss a beat. “No I do not. Can I get you any coffee or should I get Brian?”
The journalist declines both, and is out the door.
Fucking Jamie Tartt. What does he even think he’s doing? How did you even come up in an interview? Was the question, who, Jamie Tartt, is the greatest love of your life?
(You’d find out later that yes, that was the question. The journalist was looking for an answer like “Keeley Jones,” or “Kiera Knightley,” something a little spicy.)
It doesn’t matter, the journalist (you think his name was Trent) is gone and you can go back to making coffee and chatting with the regulars.
You should have known that wasn’t the end of it.
God, why can’t you just work in peace? You have enough on your plate, between homework and student loans and the person who’s complaining that their iced coffee is “too cold.” 
You don’t need to add “prick footballer ex-boyfriend,” to the list.
But he seems bound and determined to add himself to your list of things to take care of, with the way he’s following you around as you hand people their orders.
“Trent said you wouldn’t talk to him,” he says.
He takes your silence as license to keep going. “Why didn’t you just take the money? Can’t be making much here.”
Do not let him get to you, you remind yourself. Do not sink to his level.
So you just shrug. “I’m not one of those people who fucks a famous footballer just for the money. Now I’m going to give you the same choice I gave that goddamn reporter: you can get a coffee or you can get. Out.”
So Jamie leaves.
It figures that your ex would find some way to make your life hell. Sure, you’ve gotten mostly over him and you have your own life and you’re on your way to becoming an accountant because numbers are fun and numbers don’t break your heart. So of course, now is when he decides to show up and have journalists poking around.
But you refuse to talk about him with anyone. It’s rude, in your opinion. It devalues your old relationship and yourself and you won’t do it.
So instead you stay after hours, going over finances at the café while Brian and his boyfriend chatter softly and try new coffee combinations.
You laugh as they bicker and and sip everything they set before you, grateful that you don’t have to think about the day Jamie got signed to Manchester City and decided that he was too good for you.
Unfortunately, you have to go home at some point, which means you’re wide awake in your bed, flatmates all asleep leaving you to replay that whole terrible day.
(He said, “It ain’t gonna work, babe, I’m in the Premier League now and I should be with someone who’s at my same level.”
You said, “Don’t call me babe.”
He said, “Don’t waste any tears over me, I won’t be crying so you shouldn’t either.”
You said, “I sure as hell won’t cry over a heartless dick like you.”
He said, “That’s a heartless Premier League dick to you.”
And that was it. A year-long relationship and four year-long friendship down the tubes.)
The article hits the papers and now you’re constantly being harassed by journalists. 
You read it, the part about you. It was written in interview format, with a bolded question and then Jamie’s response. It was like a glimpse into his personal life, who he was outside the pitch.
Jamie, you’ve had an astonishing career at such a young age, and made a name for yourself both on and off the pitch. Your name has been in the tabloids with many famous models and actresses in the few short years you’ve played in the Premier League. So my question is, in the history of your romantic entanglements, who is the absolute love of your life?
In your opinion, it was a long lead-up to a short question. 
Jamie’s response was two words. Your first and last name.
That fucker.
It makes work so bad that you had to hide in the back while Brian tells people to leave.
You apologize profusely once everything’s closed and everyone’s gone. 
“I’ll give you my official notice and everything, and I can still help out with finances if you want,” you say. “I’m- not trying to be annoying, but the extra money would be really helpful while I look for another job.”
Brian shakes his head. “I’m not firing you, kid,” he says. “It’ll die down. And Caleb and I are happy to have you over for dinner if you want to talk about it.”
You’re so relieved and grateful that you hug him.
It’s late again. You’re in your kitchen. All three of your flatmates are out and will be gone until the morning, so you have the flat all to yourself. You’ve lit some candles and turned on the soft lights, and are criss-cross on the counter listening to Fleetwood Mac with brownies in the oven.
You allow yourself to think about some of the questions that were thrown at you throughout the day.
How long have you known Jamie Tartt?
When was the last time you spoke?
Are you still friends?
You shake your head. Weird.
There’s a knock at the door. Even weirder. You’re not expecting anyone.
You hop down and pad down the hall, standing on tiptoe to peer through the peephole. It’s Jamie. You make a face, double-check that the door is locked, and turn back to the kitchen. 
“I know you’re there,” Jamie calls through the door. “I can see the light on, and your car’s out front. I just want to talk.”
You’re not going to open the door, but then he calls your name and you’re rooted to the floor.
You open the door just enough so you can look at him, but not enough that he thinks he can come inside.
“I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me other than an apology, especially after the day I’ve had,” you say, more fire in your voice than you remembered you had.
The fire dies when you get a good look at Jamie’s face.
It’s different.
He looks… forlorn, almost?
“I do, I do have an apology,” he says. There’s no malice, no conniving look on his face. 
You say, “Ok,” in a tone so soft that Jamie could almost forget the anger you just held.
“Look,” he begins, but is cut off by your timer beeping in the kitchen. You sigh. 
“I have to get those,” you say. “Can’t burn down the flat. Do you… do you want to come in? Just for a minute.”
Jamie nods and follows you inside, closing the door behind him.
He follows you to the kitchen, close on your heels, where you motion for him to sit while you take out the brownies. 
“Right,” he says once you’re leaning on the counter across from him. “Look- I was a prick. I thought I was fucking special because my right foot was kissed by god. I didn’t know how to fucking handle it so I acted like a prick. And I never said I’m sorry.” He takes a breath. “Keeley’s always talkin’ about accountability, so… here I am. Taking fucking accountability.”
You just look at him.
“I’m not looking for forgiveness,” he hurriedly continues. “Just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you.”
You’re still not talking, so Jamie gets up.
“Right,” he says. “Right. I’m going to leave ya now. Got fucking trainin tomorrow.”
He’s halfway down the hall when he turns and says, “Oh, by the way, I called your uni. Paid the rest of your tuition, gave them some extra in case you decide you want to keep going.” Then he turns around again and actually heads to the door.
For a moment, you’re too shocked to even move but the magnitude of what he just said sinks in.
“OI,” you bellow. Jamie freezes, hand on the door handle. 
“Get. Back here,” you say, voice tight.
“Jamie,” you say once he’s sitting again, “you can’t just pay my student loans. The whole reason I never talk to the press about you is because I don’t want to be like those people who just, like, use you for your money. I had it handled and I don’t need you thinking that I’m just- just- using you. And fuck off with saying that shit in a magazine,” you continue, “You can’t just use me to make yourself more family-friendly. Saying that you like the girl who works in a fucking coffee shop so she can get through school and become an accountant. I mean, what the fuck? Just say it was a model or an actress or something, but don’t use me, because I never used you.”
Jamie shakes his head. “But it’s not like that,” he says earnestly. “I know what you’re like. I know it ain’t about the money. That’s why I said what I said. You really are the love of me life.”
You’re silent, analyzing his face. There’s nothing that indicates he’s lying, and if you can claim to know Jamie at all, you’d have to admit that this might be the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.
All you can manage is a weak, “Oh.”
“I’m really, really sorry.”
“Yeah,” you reply, “you keep saying that. I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be friends with you.”
Jamie nods. “Yeah, no I get that, yeah. Right. I’m not looking for that. I just needed you to know.”
You’re both silent for an awkward moment.
“Right,” Jamie says again. “Guess I’d better go. I’ll see you around, I guess.”
You nod, letting Jamie see himself out.
“So, you’re not taking him back?”
“Brian,” you say, “why the absolute fuck would I do that?”
He laughs. “I don’t know, if I had some handsome, rich young footballer come to me with an apology that I didn’t ask for, I’d’ve snapped him right up!”
“Don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” you warn.
Brian laughs again. “Oh hon, he’s heard me say so much worse.”
You snort then turn back to the column of numbers in front of you. It’s bright and early, thirty minutes before opening. That gives you twenty minutes to finish what you’re doing before sneaking out the back door. You’re scribbling in the margins in blue glitter pen when there’s a knock on the glass door. You frown.
“Who on earth is knocking?” you ask.
Brian shrugs. “No idea,” he replies as he goes to look.
The frown stays affixed to your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Brian just lied.
He’s back a moment later.
“Think these are for you,” he says, arm full of flowers.
You drop your pen.
“What the hell,” you whisper. 
Brian just grins and places them on the table. “A nice young man in a pink tracksuit dropped them off. Said to give them to you and that he’ll have more tomorrow.”
“Fucker,” you hiss.
“Me or him?”
You glare. “Both. Either. I don’t care. Take these home to Caleb or put them around the shop. I’m leaving.”
You shuffle your papers together and flee the coffee shop, door banging behind you.
“Twat,” you whisper to no one in particular. 
Jamie’s delivered flowers every day for a week and a half and you’re not sure how he manages it, but he always avoids being caught by you. You’re not sure why he’s delivering them to your place of work, but you have a hunch that somehow, somehow Brian and Caleb are in on it.
It’s fucking annoying, really. They’re so beautiful and in all your favorite colors and you’re absolutely pissed off that he still knows anything personal about you.
You’re even more pissed off that you like it.
I mean, come on, he has your forgiveness; what more does he want?
The worst part is you actually miss him. You miss the Jamie you dated, the one you fell in love with but are not particularly fond of the Jamie who dumped you when he got signed for Man City. What’s to stop him from doing that again?
You decide you’re going to talk to him.
Brian brings in a particularly large bunch the next day and you’re on your feet in a flash. You’re out the door before he can ask where you’re going, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows. 
You look up and down the street. You know Jamie couldn’t have gotten far. 
You catch a flash of blonde hair zipping away to your right. 
“TARTT,” you bellow.
The blonde hair freezes as you march up the street.
Jamie turns and grins sheepishly, “Hey, love,” he says.
“Stop bringing me flowers. It’s fucking annoying.”
It might be Jamie’s imagination, but there seems to be slightly less rage in your eyes today.
“Thought you liked that sort of thing,” he says.
“I do,” you say, “usually. When I know why it’s happening. I don’t know why you’re doing it. You already paid my student loans and apologized. I don’t really know what else you want from me.”
“A second chance,” Jamie says promptly. “I weren’t kidding in the article. You can tell me to fuck off right now and I’ll leave you alone. Can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you again, but I can fucking guarantee it won’t be on purpose.”
You’re silent, giving Jamie the tiniest spark of hope.
“Fuck you,” you finally say. Jamie raises an eyebrow as you glare at him. “Fuck you for actually fucking changing. And for making me love you again. You’re all I can fucking think about and it’s been driving me crazy, and Brian’s been no help with all his, ‘you should call him,’ and ‘he seems like a good lad.’ He’s fucking right and I’m fucking mad about it.”
“Yeah?” Jamie asks, “Why don’t you tell me more over dinner tonight? I’ll take you on a proper date.”
You actually smile at him for the first time in ages. “Alright,” you reply, “one date. One. We’ll see where it goes from there.”
Jamie doesn’t care. You’re smiling, which means he’s already won the whole fucking thing. He’s yours again, and he’s not going to fuck it up.
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babydollmarauders · 9 months
Text
SPEAK NOW — QUINN HUGHES
quinn hughes x fem!reader
part of the Speak Now Fic List
summary: in which y/n attends her ex-boyfriend, Quinn’s wedding and can’t hold her peace
notes: barely any dialogue. like i’m so serious, very little dialogue. also not proofread and i think i hate this but it’s fine because i don’t think i could do any better and i worked way too long on this.
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it was the last thing i expected.
to receive the elegant white cardstock that sits in my hand. flowers of muted colors are printed across the bottom, cursive lettering across the top.
‘You Are Formally Invited to the Wedding of Quinn Hughes & Lindsay Carter’
it’s not that i didn’t think this day would come. quite on the contrary, i feared it would come sooner. i know firsthand how special Quinn is. i knew some lucky girl would lock him down. Quinn is the type of love that you never let go.
but i did.
i made the mistake of letting go of his love.
letting go of him.
and now i’ll be forced to watch as he marries another girl. one who provided comfort and a shoulder for him to cry on when i broke his heart. one who helped him glue the pieces back together after i left.
we had both known the risks. getting together despite the warnings of his brothers. and Jack was right.
“romance is not worth risking a lifelong friendship.”
because in the end, i lost both.
i lost the love of my life and my best friend since kindergarten.
now reduced to awkward tension at conjoined family events, and pity invites to major events like these. more awkward to invite me than it is to face me afterwards, knowing that i knew what was happening and was deliberately left out.
setting the invitation on the counter, i check yes on the guest list website on my phone. confirming that i’ll be in attendance.
despite the envy that weighs heavy in my heart, and the irrational feeling of betrayal that eats at me, i know i’ll feel worse missing this milestone in Quinn’s life.
**THREE MONTHS LATER**
i’ve had months to prepare for this moment. to guard my heart and get ready to watch the only man i’ve ever loved, get married to another woman.
and in spite of that, all i’ve done is the very thing i spent the last two years keeping myself from doing.
asking about Lindsay.
i never thought they would get this far. under the impression that this was a fling and wouldn’t last long. the only thing i knew for two years was that they were opposites.
Quinn is a responsible, down-to-earth guy, focusing on feelings and equality in relationships. whereas she was more materialistic; never attending Quinn’s games unless she was guaranteed a photo opportunity, using his card to buy luxury items, and according to Jack, constantly reminding Quinn how low he had felt before she came into his life.
and now, after asking around and learning everything i could, i can guarantee that Quinn doesn’t know half the things that i do.
i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she was a bully in high school, that that mean girl attitude never left. i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she brags to all her friends that she bagged a rich fiancé and she’ll never have to work to afford her luxury lifestyle, or that she has no issue in saying he isn’t attractive but his money makes up for it. and i know he doesn’t know she’s been sleeping with her personal trainer when Quinn is out of town.
and i know what i must do today, despite my nerves.
there’s still thirty minutes until the ceremony actually begins, and no matter how much i’ve steeled myself, i’ll never be ready to face the pity filled glances and the sympathetic words of Quinn and i’s families and friends. so, i wander the halls of the stuffy church, thinking about how unlike Quinn this all is.
perhaps he’s changed his mind since we had fantasizingly planned our own wedding. laid in bed, the golden sunrise lighting his face in a greek god-like way, speaking in hushed whispers, discussing our dream wedding. nothing like this one.
my feet pause on their own accord as yelling reaches my ears, and i identify the sound coming from an open door down the hall as Lindsay.
“are you stupid?” her voice drifts out of the room, carried by the empty space. “i told you to get nude heels, not cream!”
i make quick work to pass by the room, catching just a glimpse of the blonde bride, her fluffy white gown swallowing her.
heaving out a relieved sigh, i try to ignore the pounding in my chest, turning left down the hall and towards the main room. maybe it’s best for me to just get the pity and commiseration over with.
my heels click against the hardwood floor of the crowded room, and a hush falls over most of the right side. Quinn’s side.
scanning the room, i’m grateful to find Trevor and Cole. i know Quinn’s family is with him getting ready, but i at least have these two to bring me some comfort amongst the sea of strangers.
“y/n, you came!”
pop! the comfort bubble has broken. i thought i could trust Cole to treat me normally, but the gentle incredulous tone of his voice tells me otherwise. a mix of shock and sympathy.
“yeah, of course i did.” my lips quirk in a forced smile, shoving any resentment and nerves down deep inside me. “i wouldn’t miss Quinny’s big day.”
“y/n/n, you know you don’t have to act strong in front of us, right?” Trevor’s hand rubs my arm, providing the perfect grounding for me.
“yeah, no, i know that.” i nod. “but seriously, guys, i’m fine. i knew this day would come.”
“it’s not too late.” Cole jokes. “the priest does say that whole ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ thing, right?”
i let out a genuine chuckle at the deep and ominous tone he uses to imitate the priest; the first real laugh i’ve had all day. if only he knew.
i join Trevor and Cole in finding seats, sitting in the 4th row. not quite at the front, but also not quite the middle. i perch in the seat closest to the aisle, open for a quick getaway if needed.
the guys engage me in small talk, asking me about my job and frowning when i give the generic answer of ‘it’s okay.’
but i couldn’t tell them the truth, could i? that i hated it. that i regretted ever taking it. that it wasn’t the job that was bad, but rather that i was filled to the brim with resentment that it took me away from the man i love.
i knew i had brought it upon myself. i made myself this miserable. i chose this job over him. i got the internship and thought Quinn and i could withstand the distance while i was in Boston, but i was wrong. we didn’t make it more than two months before i was forced to watch our relationship crumble before me; knowing there was nothing i could do to fix us, i had to let him go.
i knew he would live on. i knew he would be able to put our relationship in the past. but i was only more disconsolate than ever. stuck in a mournful heartbreak. unable to move on and unwilling to try.
i’m shaken from my thoughts by Cole, who points out the mother of the bride walking down the aisle, signifying that the ceremony is getting underway.
i strain my back, twisting around in my seat. my eyes are drawn to the open double doors, where Quinn makes his entrance. his parents on either side of him.
my heart races in my chest, my nerves settling low within my stomach. he looks breath taking. but i can’t help noticing the lack of spark in his eyes. the once lively eyes that used to be so full of emotion, now seem empty.
my gaze tracks his movement, following as he walks down the aisle and to the altar, coming to a stop in front of the priest. his parents take their seats as he scans the room, seemingly searching, and when our eyes meet, he seems to stiffen. his back straightening and his jaw locking.
i can only hope my eyes convey everything i’m thinking.
i’m sorry.
please don’t do this.
his brothers are quick to follow down the aisle, decked out in navy blue suits, joining him at the altar as his groomsmen.
Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk when he sees me, and he sends me a wink, but i can’t muster anything more than a simple straight lipped expression.
the next 20 minutes go by in a blur, a haze of bridesmaids and eventually Lindsay making her entrance.
“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore - is not by any - to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly - but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly.”
the priest begins, and i’ve been to enough weddings to know what comes next. steeling my nerves, i take a deep breath in, letting it escape back past my lips with a silent whoosh.
“should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
a silence falls over the room, the priest looking out over the seated crowd.
my hands tremble by my sides, anxiety growing deep within me, but i know this is my last chance.
i rise to my feet, slowly and shakily. i can hear whispers start from the left side of the room, and i glance around to find everyone staring at me with horrified looks. everyone but Quinn’s immediate family and friends.
Jack and Luke share a glance before letting out relieved sighs; but i’m only focused on Quinn, who stares back at me with wide eyes and parted lips.
“go on.” the priest urges me, an annoyed expression painting his face.
Lindsay’s face turns red, hands balled into fists at her sides.
“don’t say ‘yes’.” i plead of Quinn.
“y/n-” he sighs, and my heart skips a beat in my chest, the well-known effect he has on me.
“you need to hear me out.” i beg. “Quinn, i’m sorry. i’m sorry i let us go, i’m sorry i didn’t fight harder for us, and i’m sorry i ever even took that stupid internship. but even if i’m too late to win you back, you deserve better than this.
“she’s been using you for your name and your money.” i continue, but Quinn squeezes his eyes shut in disbelief. whether he’s in disbelief of Lindsay or me, i can’t be sure. “and she’s been cheating on you.”
gasps sound out across the room and his eyes snap open wide again. his gaze flickers between me and his bride, who has now turned a pale white; all color draining from her face at my accusation.
“she’s lying! she just wants you to herself! she had her chance and she lost it and now she doesn’t want you happy.” Lindsay cries out.
“i have it on good authority that she’s been sleeping with her trainer when you’re out of town. you know i wouldn’t say anything if i weren’t completely sure. if i didn’t have proof.” i tell him “and you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who will be absolutely head over heels, purely, and loyally in love with you. and i’m not saying that i’m that person for you. this isn’t me begging for a second chance, even if i am still out of my mind in love with you. i just can’t stand idly by and watch you make a mistake. i can’t let you marry her without knowing the truth.”
i take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. silence plagues the room, astonishment written all over the faces over every guest in attendance.
“okay, that’s all i wanted to say.” i purse my lips and nod, stepping out into the aisle. my heels click against the floor as i make my exit, not staying to see the outcome of my outburst.
***
i sit on my couch, staring at my hands fidgeting in my lap; my phone shut down entirely and sitting face down on the coffee table in front of me, not ready to face the consequences of my earlier actions.
a movie plays on my tv, but i pay no attention, only having put it on in attempt to escape my thoughts and avoid the quiet.
it’s been approximately twelve hours since i objected to my ex’s wedding. now midnight, and my anxiety has not lessened. i have no clue whether Quinn carried on with his marriage or if he took my words to hold the truth. too afraid to find out.
i’m broken out of my trance by a heavy knock sounding out on the door of my apartment, and i stand frantically. i expect that it’s Jack or one of the many other friends in attendance of the wedding this afternoon, but my heart rate picks up when i look through the peephole to find the very man i confessed my love to today.
my hand shakes as i unlock the door, opening it to reveal Quinn. he’s no longer in his tux, rather adorning sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he still looks handsome to me.
“Quinn.”
“i didn’t say my vows.” he rushes out.
“what?” i question, fearing i heard him wrong.
“i didn’t say my vows.” he repeats, pushing past me and into my entry hall. “she tried to deny what you told me, but i trust you. i held my ground, and she confessed everything. you were right.”
“Quinn, please.” i plead. “i’m happy that you’re not upset with me but i can’t-”
“i’m so glad you were there.” he cuts me off, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “were you telling the truth?”
“Quinn, you just said she confessed-” i push against his chest, tears gathering in my eyes.
“about being sorry. about still being in love with me. were you telling the truth?” he clarifies, his free hand coming up to hold both of mine in his clutch, and my arms go slack.
“yes.” the tension in the air is palpable, and i’m unsure whether it’s worrisome or comforting.
“say it again.” he breathes out, a subtle smile resting on his lips.
“i love you.” a lone tear spills over my waterline, rolling down my cheek. “i am absolutely and irrevocably in love with you.”
his lips crash upon mine in a bruising kiss, finally letting go of my hands in favor of resting his right one against my cheek. i stiffen against him, seizing up in his hold, and he pulls back. his eyes scan my face, his face etched in worry.
“did i do something wrong?” a hoarse whisper, our faces still millimeters apart.
my hands raise to cup the back of his neck, pulling his lips back down to mine. my eyes flutter shut,this time it’s slow and passionate; holding my heart on my sleeve as i pour my soul out to him in the form of a kiss.
he pulls away, pressing his forehead against mine, but my eyes remain shut. we’re both silent, nothing but the sound of our mingling breaths and the tv lowly drifting in from the other room.
“i love you too.”
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bellewintersroe · 9 months
Text
Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader- smut
Part 8?! Holy shit, I’m enjoying writing this series so much.
Warnings: Explicit mentions of sexual intercourse, angst, slight argument? I don’t want to give too much away…
Slightly prompted by @urfriendlywriter with “look at me when I'm making you feel good, baby" with Daniel because 🥵🥵🥵🥵
Daniel and y/n reunite and he’s a nervous wreck. Although being overwhelmed with the anticipation of the Hungarian GP looming, he’s still torn about their secretive situation. He is weak in the knees, however, and can’t help but end up back in her Hotel room for the night. Any confusion is momentarily dispersed, until she brings up a topic of conversation that has Daniel feeling on edge.
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“Daniel!” She giddily exclaims, greeting the taller man for a hug. For an onlooker, including her dad, it would just look like an exchange between two friends reuniting, to them however, it meant something completely different. His heart was pounding as he greeted her into his arms, the smile undeniable hard to resist as his stomach turned to mush whilst her body pressed up against his. She smelt so good, he thought, and she looked beautiful, his hands were clammy and she offered him a smile before they broke apart. With her face so close to his, Daniel thought she might kiss him. That was until her embrace was then placed on Checo, embracing him in what seemed to be an equally happy greeting. She knew different, her hug with Daniel was something she’d been dying for all week. It was now Thursday, a day before the practice rounds for the Hungarian GP, and time for her had moved so, incredibly slowly. “C’mon you, have you finished your work?” Christian then asked, stopping her chatter with Checo. “Ah-“ she turned around, embarrassed by the comment. “Yes, dad. I’m not 12.” She blinked with a funny tone causing a couple of the men around to crack up. Daniel saw the saw the way men around here would look at her, eyes quickly glancing down her dress clad body, they’d gaze at her face longingly, giggling like kids whenever she’d walk in a room. He always cringed at it, feeling an odd sense of protectiveness- but then he’d come to the realisation he was just the same as them.
“Ah, you’ll always be my baby.” Christian responded, ruffling her hair slightly as she grumbled out, scurrying away to avoid further embarrassment. Daniel felt his eyes follow her, his head even tilted a little seeing her disappear out of the room quicker than he’d liked. “She’ll chat your ear off.” Christian joked, looking Daniel in the eye. The Australian snapped his attention back, forcing a laugh and shaking his head nervously. He couldn’t give him eye contact, he’d been railing his daughter for the past several weeks now…
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God, it had felt like months since Daniel was last inside of her. She looked fucking angelic as he pushed his cock into her, arms pinned above her on the bed as he swung his hips harshly into hers. “Daniel!” She gasped, hands nudging to be released before she grabbed at his bare back, head lolling around in pleasure. With each thrust her tits bounced leaving Daniel mesmerised, squeezing and groping at them. Her lips were slightly parted, sweet moans escaping as her fingers moved down to rub over her pussy. Any of Daniels prior panicked thoughts had been quickly displaced when she began rubbing her ass into him during an extremely busy lift ride up to the room.
Daniel growled, feeling himself stupidly close to cumming despite being inside of her for a mere two minutes. He pulled out, replacing his cock with his fingers as he sunk two of them into her dripping cunt. “Fuck!” She squeaked, attempting to squirm her way up onto her elbows. Daniel’s free hand pushed her back down to the bed. “I love it when you’re like this.” She gasped, eyes slightly wide as he swallowed thickly at her words, scanning over her face that he couldn’t get enough of. If he wasn’t so desperate to have his cock inside her, he’d fuck that little mouth of hers so good.
He was panting slightly, mouth agape as he watched her with a hungry expression, one she simply couldn't resist as she cried out, feeling his fingers twitch inside her. “Yeah?” He responded, almost cockily to her little whines. It’s like she’d coerced him out of his shy exterior, and spending some time apart riled him up like no other. “That good?” He muttered, quickening the pace as she choked out a cry, nodding, her head turning away. “Fuck.” Daniel cursed, feeling how tight she was around his fingers. Her cunt was so deliciously tight, in fact, he knew he’d never been with somebody who wrapped around him so good.
“Look at me, baby.” He then repeated, desiring to see her desperate eyes on him before he fully fucked her with his fingers. “Daniel!” She whined out, head rolling back up but her eyes were still closed. He reached forwards, taking her by the jaw and pushing her cheeks together slightly.
“Look at me when I'm making you feel good, baby.” His voice came out as more of a demand, to this she obeyed his order and her eyes opened again. “Harder.” She pouted. “Good girl.” He exhaled against her lips, kissing her harshly before increasing the pace as he fucked his fingers in and out of her so overwhelmingly fast she found herself screaming, Daniel not letting her cover up one sound that left her lips as she squirted all down his veiny arm. “Good girl!” He repeated, clearly proud as he moved down for another kiss.
“Fuck me, Daniel.” She hushed, snatching his hair as he let out a soft moan at the painful tug. He couldn’t resist as he crawled back between her legs, pushing his cock with ease into her lubricated pussy. He continued with the same pace before, arms at either side on her as she reached up, stroking at the back of his neck and then his cheek. The act made Daniel soften inside, dropping his head with a curse before he’d slowed his pace and found himself lifting her closer to him.
“C’mere… up here, baby.” He whispered, needing her body flush against his as he lifted her into his lap. “You want me to ride you like this?” She cooed, beginning to rock her hips teasingly over the outside of his cock. Daniel searched each of her eyes, feeling all control leave his body as her fingers trailed over the tip of his cock.
“Do you?” She repeated, barely a whisper. “Yeah.” He hushed, moving closer to give her a kiss but she purposefully moved her away. “Please.” He repeated, a little harsher as a smirk grew on her face, sinking down over his cock, listening to the delicious moan she’d pulled from his chest.
His hips also rocked against hers, arms wrapping around her waist as they embraced, making out whenever they could as she sucked on his tongue. “Want you to cum like this, inside me- fuck, you feel so good.” She kissed at his jawline, Daniel keeping his head against her shoulder out of pure comfort. “Inside you?” He repeated as she lifted her hips higher, causing more of a friction for them both whenever she dropped back onto his cock.
“Inside me, Danny.” She let out a moan as he gripped her close. For a few moments they were just enjoying the fucking, moaning back to one another as they shared moments of intense eye contact. Daniel stroked over her cheek, holding her face so he could watch each expression he drew from her whilst he rocked his cock into her.
“You like it when I fuck you like this?” He then asked. “Fuck yeah… I do.” She responded, dropping onto his shoulder with a deep groan when his actions caused her stomach to do knots. “You like it when I keep you close, hm?” He nudged her face back up, stroking down the back of her head. “I love it.” She choked.
I love you… thought Daniel. The thought kinda scaring him as he watched her with a desperate expression. He shook it to one side, well, he tried to. She’d started sucking on his finger, the wet sensation of her lips being the only thing that tugged him from his distraction. When she pulled off his finger he pulled her back into his body, a little stunned at the intrusive thought.
“You okay?” She panted, noticing he’d looked a little dazed. “Hm?” He turned to look at her lightly. “Yeah, I’m good.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, his brows furrowing in a slight worry as he pressed his forehead against her temple. He loved her, fuck he loved her.
When she’d finished, Daniel came inside of her with a groan muffled into the crook of her neck, dropping his head there as he came down from his high, shuddering at the aftermath. They remained like that for she didn’t know how long. He had his arms wrapped firmly around her and seemed pretty content cuddling her close. She liked it, the feeling of his fingers drawing gentle patterns on his tanned skin. I love you.
Daniel thought again as he sat up looking directly back into her eyes. She’d kissed him gently, offering him a gentle smile as he took a deep breath, glancing down seeing as he was still inside of her. She attempted to move but he didn’t want to lose the contact, nor did he want the overthinking to start again. “Just-“ he held her gently down, so lightly that she could’ve moved if she wanted. “-Stay like this for a minute.” Daniel shushed her gentle moan as she sunk back down onto him, feeling him pull them onto their sides as she watched him with softened eyes.
Her eyes fluttered close as he traced the outline of her lips before moving closer and kissing them gently. They remained like that for a few more moments before she’d cleaned herself up and they remained cuddling one another close. His arm was slung over her waist, pressed up against the squeeze of her breasts, whilst the other lazily remained under her neck. It was her favourite, position, feeling so close to him.
Y/n wasn’t sure what overcame her, maybe how comfortable she felt with him, or the fact she was half asleep, but she let those words fall off her lips without thinking.
“Do you think we’ll always be a secret?” Daniels eyes shot open.
The same inner conflict he’d been battling with all week returned as he slid out of her hold sitting up slightly. “What’s wrong?” She panicked, turning over to watch him. “Nothing, just…” “Just what?” He looked freaked out, and she felt panic arise on her chest just from the look on his face. Was he not ready to hear that yet? Had she pushed it too far?
“I was just thinking about it for- for a couple days now.” Daniel rubbed his arm, staring at it as a distraction to avoid anything but those beautiful eyes of hers. Now she’s mentioned it, it made the topic much easier to discuss. She remained silent, waiting for him to continue, there was the worst anxiety building in her stomach, she didn’t like it.
“Like is telling people about what’s going on? Or-or just being more open about it.” Daniel didn’t really know where his words were headed, “yeah?” She straightened her back, finally seeing him meet her eye.
“I don’t know it would be right, y/n.” Whatever she expected him to say, it most definitely wasn’t that. Her stomach sunk and she broke all means of eye contact. Daniel felt harsh, he knew it was and couldn’t shake the regret that filled him, but it was true. How could it be okay? “Wouldn’t it?” He watched her, staring at the bedsheets looking as though she was gathering her thoughts. “How would your dad react?” He finally blurred out.
“I- he’d get used to it… are you saying you just wanna keep going on hiding everything?” The stammer in her voice made it difficult for him to look at her now, the last thing he’d wanted to do was cause her any distress, but he’d be a fool to think that wouldn’t happen. Her stomach was in knots, emotions screaming to be let out, but all she could do was sit and stare at the bed they’d just had sex in. Something about it all felt very very slimy.
“No, that’s not possible.” He slowly spoke as she felt her breathing increase. “So we’re just gonna stop then.” She jumped out of bed, retrieving some clothes off the floor, desperate to cover her modesty whilst he sat naked and pathetically in the bed.
“Well I didn’t say that-“ Daniel attempted to respond, but he realised shortly where he’d dug his grave. Had he made a mistake? It just felt so sudden, the whole conversation, he’d thought about it for all those weeks and now she was coming to the conclusion it was over between them.
“Then what do you want?” She snapped, Daniel’s attention quickly back on her. Bad idea, she had glassy eyes and there was a tension in his jaw he’d never seen before. What do you want? I want you, Daniel thought. But it wasn’t possible. “God, you’re making this so difficult, Daniel.” She turned her back, staring out of the window in an attempt to hide the tears that threatened to spill at any second. He hated the way she spoke to him, of course he was well aware he deserved it, but the sound of distress in her voice was something so unfamiliarly uncomfortable to him.
“I just don’t know how much longer I can keep going on with pretending I don’t have feelings for you.” Her back straightened at his words, she had a bad feeling this wouldn’t last, it was overly complicated, there was an age gap and they’d never once discussed what was going on between them.
“To keep that all hidden, it just feels wrong. I love you, y/n.” Daniel released the tension off his chest, her own heart bulging out of his chest. Whatever reaction he expected, it was not for her to burst into tears.
“You can’t tell me that after saying you want to end it!”
“I don’t want to end it though, not if things were easier.” He hurried to pull his clothes on, sensing she wouldn’t want him around for much longer. He felt like a major douche, and he was.
“But they aren’t.” She swiped at her eyes, turning away from him. “Don’t-dont come back and sleep with me just to tell me all this.” She let out a painful sigh as Daniel felt her words punch directly into his gut. “I’m sorry, fuck, I didn’t think it all through.” He pinched the top of his nose, feeling the urge to cry himself. Daniel wasn’t a crier, but there was something about knowing he’d hurt her that really induced tears.
“Just go, Daniel, it could’ve been easier.” She wiped at her eyes, attempting to slow the tears. “No, m’ sorry.” He touched her back, attempting to console her but she stepped away. “No, I want you to leave.” She was humiliated, and how couldn’t she have been?! “Please, Daniel.” She whispered, the two of them standing face to face.
“Y/n, I love you-“ he sighed out, but her face palm indicated she was done with the conversation.
“That doesn’t make anything easier, Daniel, please, please leave me alone.” She begged as he fought a mental battle with himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He began backing off. One part of him wanted to stay and just take back everything he’d said, another side knew he couldn't continue hounding her like this.
He’d broken her heart, and only when he left his room could she fully break down. Daniel heard it from outside the room, it was a sound he never ever wanted to hear, it made him sick to his stomach, especially knowing he was the cause of that.
Everything had happened so quick, she felt more upset over this than she ever did going through a break up of 2 whole years. Daniel didn’t know if he’d made the right or wrong decision, but it currently felt like the worst decision he’d ever made. Was there even any coming back from this?
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@mccall-muffin @benbarneslut @dinodumbass @allabouthappiness @ricciardhoe-3
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