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14buddy22 · 1 year

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You’re Losing Me

Aaron Hotchner x Female reader WC: 3.7k Warnings: ANGST

Based off the song; You’re Losing Me by Taylor Swift

@ssamorganhotchner (prepare for your heart to break bestie)

Masterlist

You had tried. You really did. You tried to keep your relationship with Aaron alive. You tried to keep it interesting, tried to keep it fun, but it wasn’t that anymore. You could try all you want to make him happy. You’d do whatever he wanted as long as he was happy, even if you sacrificed your happiness.

You were tired, lonely, empty inside. You were tired of being 2nd to him. You knew the implications of his job. He was very upfront about that, even telling you the night you met. He told you his marriage ended because of his job.

You ignored it, because you fell in love with him. You knew that his job made him happy and you learned to be okay with that. You knew that dates would become canceled, you knew you’d show up to family and friend events usually alone, you’d take care of his son more times than not because he was away.

You chose to ignore it. Him and the BAU were like peanut butter and jelly. They worked well together, but anyone else who joined, did not mix into that perfect combination. You wish you had, but you didn’t. Maybe you did for a little bit, but it wouldn’t last forever.

You were tired of always being his “back-up”. You knew it was always the BAU over you, but when would he realize he should start putting you before the BAU. He knew the BAU was the reason his first marriage failed, shouldn’t he consider changing that before his 2nd marriage started?

You found yourself sitting in the sunroom of the house you and Aaron had moved into. It was the perfect size for you, him, and Jack. Even though Jack was older and his toys had turned into more electronics than anything, there had been talks of having kids with Aaron. The perfect single family home that you and him picked to be perfect to raise a few more kids that you and Aaron made.

You loved the sunroom. It was yours and Aaron’s favorite part of the house. You both loved it because of the light that came from it. You know it was called “sunroom” for a reason, but still, it was your favorite place in the house.

But it’s funny how you found yourself sitting in the dark, without Aaron. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t know when it got this bad between you two. You don’t know where it all went wrong. You don’t know how he didn’t see the signs.

Sitting there with your thoughts to yourself, all you could think about is how long you’ve been with Aaron. All you’ve ever wanted to do was to make him happy, even if you sacrificed your own happiness. You’ve always been like that, that never changed, even when you and Aaron started dating.

You were a pathological people pleaser.

It’s been roughly 1278 days since you and Aaron Hotchner became a thing. That’s 3 years and 6 months that you two were dating. Too many “i love yous”, hugs, kisses, late nights, date nights, family adventures, and making memories to count.

You tried to pinpoint the exact moment of where everything went wrong, when you began to sacrifice so much of your happiness that Aaron was taking for granted. He never saw the signs that you were exhausted with your relationship with him. You loved him, but he’s losing you.

You and Aaron had been together for 3 and a half years. You set yourself into a routine that you just went through the motions with him every single day. There was no surprise element. You tried to surprise him with dates, but that was quickly resolved when majority of the time he was still never back from a case or was pulling a graveyard shift getting caught up on paperwork.

You were proud of Aaron. He was a great profiler, yet he never saw the signs. He never saw how you had to put a smile on around him. He didn’t notice the way that you were trying to tell him to take some time off so you and him could go on a weekend getaway because you felt lonely.

You felt like you were the only one in the relationship. 6 months ago is when you started to notice it. You noticed that you and Aaron had been in a routine. It was the same thing everyday. Even with as chaotic as his schedule was, it was still predictable.

He missed the dates you planned with him or the dates he had planned with you.

He missed your family events where you would have wanted him to be there with you.

He missed your friend gatherings where you wanted to show him off, to prove to your friends that they were wrong about him, but he let you down.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Time and time again, Aaron slowly let you down with all the broken promises he left you. Promises of I’ll be home early tonight turned into late nights at the office. Promises of “I’ve made dinner reservations for us tonight at this new restaurant” turned into, “I’m caught up in a case, we’ll go out when I get back”.

Those promises were never made up.

That’s why you were sitting in the room you and Aaron loved, alone. You wanted to go out for a nice dinner tonight, but, from the time it read on the clock, Aaron had forgotten about the reservation you made. You had reminded him this morning. Jack was spending the night at his friends house. You thought back to this morning, making sure you did remind him.

Aaron was drinking his coffee in the sunroom this morning when you decided to make your way to him.

You gave him a kiss and he pulled you into his lap. It was his favorite way to start the day with you. You wanted to break routine and have him stay in bed just a few more minutes but he preferred to be up out of bed.

“Good morning. Any fun plans today?”

“Clean the house, do some laundry. Boring stuff.”

Aaron took another sip of his coffee and as you played with the back of his hair. You decided to bring up the fact that you two had your date night planned for a couple weeks now. You specifically remember telling him to request tonight off.

“Remember, Jack’s at a sleepover tonight, you and I have dinner reservations.”

If you hadn’t known Aaron as well as you did, you would have missed the way he slightly stilled for a second, but you didn’t. You chose to ignore it, you know he couldn’t have forgotten.

“Of course. Jack’s sleeping over at a friends house, you and I are trying that new place tonight. What time?”

“7:30.”

“Right, 7:30. I’ll be home at 7 to pick you up. Okay? After dinner, we’ll come home and I’ll show you just how much I’ve missed you and how much I love you.”

He leaned forward to kiss your neck, slowly sinking his teeth into your skin, sucking what surely would leave a hickey for the tonight. You pulled the hair at the back of his neck away from you, not wanting him to go any further, not wanting him to leave anymore marks on you.

“Aaron. Save that for tonight, otherwise I won’t be able to cover it up.”

As you got up from your spot on his lap, you made your way to start making your breakfast and cleaning up the remmanents of his.

He got up, grabbed his briefcase, walked over to you and kissed you.

“I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Bye, Aaron. Be safe. Love you, too.”

It made you wonder, how can he say he loves you when he doesn’t know you’re dying.

How could he not know this was your last resort to save your relationship. Him knowing that you made reservations but him forgetting. Granted, you still had until tonight to make sure he’d remember, but you were starting to doubt. You two were just a sad song that wouldn’t come back to life any more.

It was now 8:30pm. Not a word from Aaron. No text, no call, nothing. Not even a text from the team. You didn’t like tracking his location. You weren’t insecure, you didn’t think he’d be cheating on you, but you decided to text Penelope, to see if they were on another case.

She had easily become your best friend on the team. Sending a quick text off to her asking if there had been another case, you started to think about breaking the engagement off with Aaron.

You were empathetic. You always give him the benefit of the doubt. But you think he forgot. You know he has to keep everyone else on schedule but you just wanted this once for him to have taken something seriously.

He was the best profiler, yet couldn’t tell if something was wrong in his relationship with someone he’s been “in love with” for 3 and a half years. Someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Was it all a lie?

Penople quickly texted, “Greetings, future Mrs. Hotchner! We are not on a case. Hotch actually sent most of us home early. So I’m surprised he’s not with you? Maybe he’s still in his office?”

That hurt you. If he sent the rest of his team home early. Why wouldn’t he come home early? No text. Nothing. You reminded him about your date. Maybe he knew this relationship was ending and he was just trying to avoid it?

Then you heard the garage door opening and closing. As you stood up, you were met with him staring at you. Silently pleading with you to already forgive him.

But you couldn’t. Not now. Not when you know he sent his team home early and there wasn’t a case. You couldn’t.

He knew he fucked up, royally fucked up. He saw how you looked so beautiful in your form fitting dress. He knew that you hated dressing up all formal, yet you still did it because it always got the best reaction from it.

“I am so sorry.”

“You’re losing me, Aaron.”

Aaron’s heart stilled. He didn’t know if he heard you correctly. You didn’t realize that you barely spoke that. It came out as a whisper. You didn’t know if you had the courage to say it out loud or say it again, but it had to be said.

You were met with silence from him. Why won’t he say anything? You wanted to scream at him, but you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t yell at him. He had a tough job and you just yelling at him wouldn’t work, he didn’t deserve that.

“I’m sorry I forgot about our dinner. I am so sorry. I started looking at this case and I knew it was close to 7 but I thought “it’s only a little case, it won’t take long” and then next thing you know it was 8:30”

“There’s always going to be another case. I just asked this one time that we had gone out for dinner. I made this reservation weeks in advance. I asked you to request this one night off. Aaron, you sent your team home early! You couldn’t even come home early. I just wanted one night with my fiancé. That’s all I wanted.”

Aaron was silent. You felt bad. But, when was it your turn for you to be unhappy? You always pleased everyone, but when could you please yourself? You probably wouldn’t marry yourself either with the way you were a pathological people pleaser.

“Do something, babe! Say something!”

You were still met with silence from him. There weren't many times that Aaron Hotchner was speechless, but this was one that stunned him the most. His fiancé tells him that he’s losing her. The one woman who he needed the most in his life, he was losing her.

“Lose something, Aar. Risk something.”

You were afraid by saying that, he would risk losing you. He was already losing you. You told him that, you already knew that, but you had a glimmer of hope. You thought back to the 3 and a half years and countless happy memories made up of him. The countless “you’re the best thing to happen to me”. You believed it. But was it a lie?

“Choose something. I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.”

Aaron moved towards you and he said, “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Aaron! I’m sorry doesn’t excuse the way you’ve been acting towards me. I don’t know what else to do. I know I’ve tried given you the world because all I’ve wanted since I’ve met you was to make you happy. But you know what, Aaron? Is it wrong for me to want to be happy? Is it wrong for me to want me to be seen by you?”

You looked at him, tears in your eyes. Your heart was breaking. But, you couldn’t continue to be in a relationship where you didn’t have a pulse anymore. If Aaron thought this relationship was worth saving, he wouldn’t have messed up.

Don’t you deserve someone better? You made the ultimatum. But you had to have known there was a possibility Aaron wouldn’t pick you, and you have to be okay with that. Yes, it’ll hurt if he doesn’t choose you, but in the end, you just wanted him to be happy. If you not being in his life anymore made him happier, then so what?

You were bleeding, not physically, but you were in a constant battle of you v the BAU in Aaron’s life. You were tired of the battle already. You knew making the ultimatum you or essentially the BAU wasn’t fair to Aaron.

But you deserve someone who was going to give you what you deserved. You just wanted to be seen by someone. He was losing you, yet wasn’t fighting hard for it.

“I have loved you since I met you. The last 3 and a half years have been amazing. But if you want me to choose between you or the BAU.”

Your heart shattered. He didn’t have to say the rest to know what he was choosing, and it crushed you. Metaphorically, you didn’t have a pulse anymore, your heart wasn’t going to start again for this relationship.

You slipped your engagement ring off your finger. You carefully placed it down on the kitchen counter. How ironic that the place he proposed to you is the place where you two were breaking up.

“This is for the best. I want you to be happy, Aaron. That’s without being in a relationship with me. I thought I could handle the BAU and you, but, I just can’t Aaron. I deserve to have someone keep their promises or at least make up for them. I deserve to go on dinner dates. I deserve to have a family that I’ve dreamed of having. I know this is what you want. You’ll have the BAU and Jack. You won’t have to worry about dinner dates or dates in general. You’ll just have work and your son. Don’t mess those two things up, Aaron.”

You looked at him. His eyes were filled with tears but he refused to blink. If he blinked, he’d lose all control.

“I’ll stay tonight in the guest room and I’ll talk to Jack when he comes home in the morning, then give me a day or two to pack-up and then I’ll be gone for good.”

You grabbed his hand and then kissed his cheek. There was loss and indecision in the air, but it was for the better, right?

“I gave you my best me’s. My endless empathy. I’ll always love you, Aaron.”

As you walked away from him, you went to your room and cried yourself to sleep. You were upset with yourself for not trying to come up with a better solution. You were upset with him for not trying harder. You were upset because you were losing Jack. The closest thing you had to a family and you lost them both.

Talking to Jack the next morning was hard. Aaron didn’t say a word while you talked to Jack. Jack was upset. You knew it would be rough on him. You’d been in his life for 4 years, now you had to walk away. Leaving Jack was going to be harder than you thought.

“I don’t want you to be mad at your dad. It’s not his fault. If you want someone to be mad at, be mad at me.”

Aaron was just looking down at the floor. He didn’t want to see that you were now crying as Jack was hugging you so hard, crying too. He didn’t realize that you were going to take the blame for Jack being upset.

****

It had been a few months since you’re engagement with Aaron ended. You were heart broken. You had to realize that you gave him the ultimatum. This was making him happy, he didn’t have to worry about coming home early to a wife. He didn’t have to worry about being a father to any extra children you and him wanted to have. He only had to worry about himself, Jack, and work. That was it. You pleased him before you could please yourself, even with a broken heart, you realized that he chose and that’s what he wanted. You didn’t force him, he had the opportunity to fix it and he didn’t. It didn’t just go bad that one night a few months ago, there was some part that was the beginning of the end.

Were you able to pinpoint it? No, not exactly. But it got to the point in the relationship right around the 3 year mark where it had been a problem and you didn’t realize it. Aaron knew it was coming too.

Aaron and Jack took the break-up hard. Jack wouldn’t talk much with his father. This was just as much Jack’s loss as it was Aaron’s. Aaron didn’t realize all you did for him. He didn’t realize how much of things you actually took care of.

You did the laundry, you cleaned the house, you made sure Jack cleaned his room and bathroom, you did the yardwork, you made sure the house was always filled with food. Aaron didn’t realize this, but you always bought refillable ink for his pens and always replaced them in his office. He didn’t know it had been you doing that. He thought he just bought a really good brand of pens, but when his pen finally ran out, that’s when Jack told him that when you went shopping with Jack one time, you explained to Jack that his dad loved the type of pens they were and bought refillable ink, always refilling it when you noticed it was low.

It’s true when they say, “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone”. Aaron realized that the hard way, he was determined to get you back. He needed you in his life. You were the fresh air he needed. He loved walking in his home, seeing you in the kitchen or the sunroom, waiting to talk about his day with him. He missed how you were a great mom to his son.

Aaron royally messed up and he needed to get you back. He knew you were still best friends with Garcia, so when he called Penelope asking where you were living, he didn’t miss the stutter in her voice, when she quickly said, “S-sir, I can’t tell you that.”

“Penelope, please.”

Then he heard your voice. “PG, I’m going on my date with that guy who owns the bar! My location’s on, we’re going to the restaurant across from where he works. Love you.”

You were going on a date. You knew the guy wasn’t Aaron, but you wanted to get back out there. You couldn’t sit around and mope.

Aaron hung up the phone and said, “Jack, get in the car. We have to go somewhere.”

As him and his son raced to the car, they both got in and Aaron was driving like a madman. He knew exactly what bar and restaurant you were talking about. It wasn’t the first time that the owner of the bar had been interested in you.

As Aaron saw you standing outside, he pulled his car over, but then he saw the owner reach out his hand and you grabbed it, moving closer to the man. Aaron couldn’t get out now. You wanted to be happy. You deserved to put your happiness in front of someone else’s. Aaron had his chance with you. He didn’t realize that until he saw you now, smiling and twirling in the middle of the sidewalk as there was a live band close by, the man spinning you around.

Aaron was pulled out of his thoughts when Jack said, “Dad, what’s going on?”

Aaron’s heart broke, more than it had when you pulled the engagement ring off your finger, more than it did when you told Jack you were moving out. Aaron’s heart was shattered now. He couldn’t come back from this. You made Aaron happy, sacrificed your happiness for Aaron, that’s the least he could do now. You warned him. You told him that he was losing you. He just didn’t know he had the perfect woman until you were gone.

With a voice barely above a whisper, trying to respond to his son, he said, “I lost her.”

As Aaron drove away, the last thing he saw in his rearview mirror was you smiling, almost like you were looking exactly at his car. He had lost you and he wasn’t getting you back. The hopes of you and him together again were gone. He didn’t understand how he missed the signs, but he did and now he’s paying for it. He lost you and he wasn’t getting you back.

Part 2 (if you want)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #jack hotchner #SAD HOTCH HOURS #Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fic

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jflemings · 7 months

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— like ribbons in your hair

pairing: kyra cooney-cross x raso!reader part 2

summary: kyra finds herself filled with envy whenever she thinks about her fellow matildas player. a chat with charli clears a few things up for her

warnings: none

a/n: fics inspired by songs might be my fav thing to write !!

kyra just couldn’t understand it. it didn’t matter that the two of you were close, how good you were with harper or even if you had scored a game winning goal, there was just a bitter envious feeling that she couldn’t shake.

at first she had thought that maybe it was because you were just a more naturally gifted player than she was. the way you effortlessly glided across the pitch with the ball at your feet seemed almost superhuman to her, almost like you had actually been given powers by the football gods that made you this unstoppable player. the fact that raso was the last name printed on your back didn’t really help, either.

at first, people had asked if you could even live up to hayley as a player, wondering if you could keep up with your older sister on the pitch. you had proved to everyone that you were not to be underestimated when you scored your first international goal from a distance, giving the matildas the win. kyra still remembers how she felt when she watched you score that goal. the pride that she felt had been so overwhelming that she needed to catch her breath and it only got worse when you ran at her with a wide grin, throwing your arms around her in celebration.

she also won’t forget the sight of you jumping into hayley’s arms after the penalty shootout against france in the world cup. matching hair ribbons fluttered in the air amongst the excitement, kyra’s eyes always managing to find you through the adrenaline.

even now, sitting in the change rooms before the first qualifying match in perth, kyra’s stomach is in knots. as hard as she tries to avoid it, her eyes keep finding you and that damn ribbon in your hair. usually she found it endearing that you and hayley wore matching ribbons every game. except for right now when all it’s doing is drawing her eyes to you.

kyra huffs in frustration before wringing out her hands and wiping them on her shorts in an attempt to let loose some of the pent up energy. charli, ever observant, sees kyra’s actions and furrows her brows in confusion. she takes note of the nerves that have settled themselves on the young midfielder’s shoulders but chooses not to say anything, deciding that after the game would be a better time for that conversation.

soon enough the team is walking out to the screams of keen fans, every player hyper-aware of all the eyes that have been on them since the world cup. even through the screams, anthems and kick-off that stupid yellow ribbon still catches kyra’s eye.

—

the game against iran had done a bit of a number on the team. with play constantly stopping and starting, everyone had been growing frustrated and tired by the end, just wanting to wrap it up.

kyra felt sluggish the whole way back the hotel, wanting nothing more than to have a shower and crawl into bed. her head rolls on her neck tiredly as she gets settled into her seat on the bus, her eyes wandering over all the faces of her teammates until it lands on yours.

despite being visibly tired, you were still smiling as you talked with mary, alanna and mackenzie. the lopsided grin currently spread on your face only widens as you laugh and alanna and macca’s tired banter, the four of you giggling at practically nothing.

maybe it’s the way kyra’s eyes soften, or the small smile that was slowly creeping onto her face, but something about kyra catches charli’s attention.

the blonde elbows the girl sitting next to her, evidently snapping her out of the trance you had put her under

kyra’s brows furrow in confusion “what?” she asks, rubbing her left bicep “what’d you do that for?”

charli tilts her head “what’s wrong with you today? it’s like you’ve just been going through the motions”

adjusting her sleeve, kyra leans further into her seat and away from her friend “it’s nothing” she mumbles, embarrassed that she’s obviously been caught.

charli clicks her tongue “you were fiddling before the match and as soon as it ended you were stuck to mini’s side like glue” she points out, lowering her voice “do you have a problem with y/n?”

kyra’s eyes go wide and she immediately squeezes charli’s wrist before trying to subtly look at the rows behind them, conscious of the fact that your older sister sits just two rows behind her.

she spots hayley drifting off, airpods in and eyes half-lidded and sighs deeply, turning back to look charli in the eye

“it’s not a problem” she emphasises “it’s just… a feeling”

the defender frowns in confusion “a feeling?” she questions “what type of feeling?”

kyra seems to lean further into her seat, now sitting with her back leaning against the window next to her “not a good one? i don’t know!” she exclaims as quietly as she can, trying to hide her embarrassment “it’s like everytime i look at her my stomach ends up in knots! i get this, like, jealous feeling in my chest and i hate it.”

you can practically see the lightbulb go off in charli’s head “jealous?” she asks “why didn’t you tell me you felt like that?”

“because it’s embarrassing!” kyra rushes, keeping her voice hushed “it makes me feel weird knowing i’m embarrassed of one of my close friends”

charli leans her head on her seat, now almost fully facing kyra side-on, and she smiles “are you sure it’s jealously, kyra?” she asks softly, not wanting to confuse or freak her friend out.

kyra scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief “i don’t know what else it could be” she grumbles “like, for instance, whenever she laughs with sam or when she ran straight to mary after she scored in the world cup my heart feels like it’s folding in on itself” kyra explains dully, clearly ashamed of this negative feeling she holds towards her friend “i hate it.”

charli soaks up kyra’s words, wary of what she says next “wanna know what i think? i think that you’re not actually jealous of y/n” she says softly, ducking her head in an attempt to catch kyra’s eye.

kyra looks at her confused “you really aren’t making any sense”

huffing, charli shift her weight “maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself that you’re jealous of y/n because you don’t want to admit that you actually have feelings for her.”

a pregnant silence overcomes the duo as kyra processes what charli has just suggested. her brain is completely frozen and she can’t meet charli’s eye, choosing to instead direct her attention elsewhere.

her eyes once again find you, because of course they would, and she begins tracing your facial features with her eyes from afar. she follows the line from the top of your forehead to the bottom of your chin, focusing on how peaceful you look even when you’re half asleep.

the revelation comes slowly, charli’s hushed words turning over and over in kyra’s head until she’s dizzy. her eyes widen ever so slightly, and her mouth goes slightly agape as kyra reminisces on your friendship and everything that has lead to this conversation in the quiet of the bus. unfortunately, as quick as it comes, it goes. the bus coming to a stop pulls the midfielder out of her crisis and back into reality, the quiet now slowly being filled with tired groans and moans of players stretching their limbs and shaking the pins and needles out of their legs.

charli’s eyes don’t leave kyra’s face as she stands, careful not to bump into mackenzie behind her. the blonde leans down, getting right in kyra’s personal space, and whispers delicately “just think about it, okay?”

all kyra can do in that moment is nod, aware that she probably looks more dazed than she feels, and stand in her place. she gathers her things and waits for charli to begin to walk down the isle of the bus, following her teammates into the comfort of the hotel with you on her mind.

#kyra cooney cross #kcc #kyra cooney cross x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #matildas x reader #jflemings tillies #jflemings writes #jflemings woso

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buckystevelove · 2 months

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Blood and Fire

Aegon I x Visenya X Rhaenys X Reader

Warning: incest, smut, angst, fluff, war and blood. Dragons!

Authors Note: I have decided to write a series about the Targaryens, GOT have always been my favorite books, I absolutely adore the world of Westeros, and I have always been obsessed with DRAGONS, so in the spirits of HOTD new season coming in June, I will write this series. I really hope you like it.

Masterlist

Prologue

Aegon had taken his three sisters as wives for very different reasons. He wed Visenya out of duty, Rhaenys out of desire, but (Y/N), he married (Y/N) out of love—pure, unwavering love. (Y/N) was the youngest of the siblings, the cherished jewel of House Targaryen. While Visenya and Aegon were the formidable warriors and strategists of the family, and Rhaenys reveled in the arts of dance and poetry, (Y/N) possessed a gentle and caring spirit. From her earliest days toddling through the halls of Dragonstone, she enchanted all who crossed her path with her infectious smile and endearing giggles. Her parents found themselves utterly captivated by their youngest daughter, her every whim attended to with unwavering devotion.

As (Y/N) grew older, her siblings—especially Rhaenys and Aegon—frequently sought solace in her company, visiting her chambers at night to share songs and stories. (Y/N) became a beacon of comfort and joy within the family, her presence a balm to their troubled hearts in the tumultuous world they inhabited. But it was not only within the walls of Dragonstone that (Y/N)'s compassion shone.

With a heart overflowing with empathy, (Y/N) extended her kindness to creatures great and small. She took it upon herself to care for the runts of the hound litters, adopting them into her care and lavishing upon them the same tenderness she showed her family. These pups, once cast aside as inferior, flourished under (Y/N)'s devoted care, becoming the healthiest and most beloved canines in all of Westeros.

When she had a nightmare she would always go to her older brothers bedroom for confort, that was how his brotherly love for her grew and changed to a romantic love, devotion and adoration. The long nights cuddling together turned to nights exploring each others bodies.

When (Y/N) turned four and ten and Aegon was ten and six they laid together for the first time.Changing their relationship forever, he knew that his duty to the Targaryen family was to marry his oldest sister, Visenya, but he could not imagine a world in which he was not eternally bound to his precious little sister. So he knew he had to make some plans.

As Aegon's feelings for (Y/N) deepened, he found himself caught in a tumultuous struggle between duty and desire. With each passing day, his love for his little sister blossomed into a consuming passion, one that threatened to overshadow all other considerations. Yet, bound by the weight of tradition and familial expectation, he knew that any deviation from the established norms of Targaryen succession would invite censure and condemnation from both within and beyond their ancestral halls.

In the depths of his heart, Aegon longed for a future where he could openly declare his love for (Y/N), where their union would be celebrated rather than scorned. But such dreams were tempered by the harsh realities of their world—a world where alliances were forged through strategic marriages and bloodlines meticulously preserved to safeguard the legacy of House Targaryen.

With a heavy heart, Aegon resolved to bide his time, waiting patiently for (Y/N) to come of age before setting his plans into motion. He knew that the path ahead would be fraught with peril, that the road to their happiness would be paved with sacrifice and hardship. Yet, for the chance to be with (Y/N), he was willing to brave the storm, to defy convention and tradition in the name of love.

As the years passed and (Y/N) approached her sixteenth nameday, Aegon knew that the time had come to set his plan in motion. Gathering his resolve, he summoned his family to the great hall of Dragonstone, his voice steady despite the tumult raging within his soul. With a solemnity befitting the occasion, he announced his intention to honor the traditions of House Targaryen, pledging to marry his eldest sister, Visenya, in accordance with the dictates of their lineage, but his was also going to marry his two younger sister, Rhaenys and (Y/N). His decision would change the destiny of Westeros forever.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon the conqueror #aegon the conqueror x reader #visenya targaryen #game of thrones #visenya Targaryen x reader #aegon x targaryen!reader #rhaenys targaryen #rhaenys x reader #Targaryen Reader #Targaryens #king aegon

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joelsmochi · 8 months

Text

Us Against the World

A/N: How easy is it to come back after a 4 month (unplanned) hiatus? Not easy. At all. Sorry for my absence darlings, a lot has been going on from moving to health issues to new jobs… It’s been so hectic that I am willing to admit that this piece of garbage was also being worked on over the entire 4 months I hadn’t posted. This was all I could conjure up, but I wanted to polish this off so I could move onto the next project, so I also apologize for how rushed this one kind of ends + it doesn’t have the same lighthearted tone as the first 2 parts. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading (don’t judge it too critically… I’m begging.) Also I think when I pasted this it got rid of my italicized and bolded words -.- (i am serious about italics)

warnings: 18+, kinda mean!jealous!insecure!joel, cclg/ddlg [attitude] dynamic, punishment (but it’s really a reward ;]), angst, more panty kink, some useless scenes, chance of getting caught, a little sadness and a bit cheesy, lazily proofread so expect grammar issues + typos!, i don’t wanna spoil so it ends there byeee (let me know if i missed any please!)

wc: 10k (will the length make up for how bad it is? no? ok >.<)

Read part 1 here, and part 2 here.

The bar was filled with laughter and short applause from people winning their games. It smelled slightly of stale alcohol and oak wood.

You had just walked in with Joel behind you. As you were taking in your surroundings, Joel had already seen a guy or two look you up and down. He chose not to say anything. They weren’t worth the trouble.

You both sat at the bar and ordered two beers though you weren’t necessarily trying to getting drunk tonight. You just wanted to keep your promise of making him jealous.

He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it, but when he saw your eyes go from your fresh drink to scanning the men around the bar he knew he was in for a real treat.

“You’re serious ‘bout this?” He rhetorically asked.

You only gave him part of a smile and a shrug to say and what if I am?

He half rolled his eyes and sipped his beer, immediately grimacing at its subpar taste.

“Fine. Do whateeeeever you want, little girl. Just like you always do,” he said. “Gon’ and dance for other guys. I don’t give a damn.”

You glared at him when he called you a little girl, keening a dark chuckle from him. He was poking the bear inside you, waiting for the moment you would choose to give up on your cunning idea.

You stood up out of spite and slowly walked over to a man roughly your age, clad in some lousy outfit that somehow made him stand out to you.

The teasing smirk Joel was wearing replaced itself with a scowl. You swore you felt him shooting daggers into your back as you whispered in the younger man’s ear.

“Wanna dance?”

The boy looked at you with excitement and surprise, bashfully nodding and following you when you pulled him next to the other dancing couples.

You pressed your back into his and looked everywhere except for where Joel was sitting, swaying your hips in sync with your dance partner and occasionally pressing back into his crotch gently.

Joel stared long and hard at the boy who was just using the curve of your ass to jerk off, yet when his eyes wandered to you, all he could do was think about using you like that, only with fewer clothes on.

The song ended and Joel thought it would be the end of your shenanigans; he watched as you whispered in the young man’s ear again, and once you pulled away he motioned for his friend to come over.

Another young man approached the front of you, and you gave him a flirty smile as your arms linked around his neck.

Joel was gritting his teeth so hard he was sure he heard one crack. He wanted to keep his cool, not give you the satisfaction, but watching you dance for men that were your age when he was already insecure about being thirteen years older than you pissed him off.

He knew you were just having fun, but fucking hell.

He hated seeing those idiots practically fucking hump you in the middle of the bar. They were feral and inadequate compared to Joel who knew they could never take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of.

Joel had about enough when the boy in front of you began slipping his thumbs underneath your baby tee and saw how it made you tense up so he reached in his wallet for cash to pay for the drinks. Then, he stomped over you and grabbed your arm, snatching your body from between the two men.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel growled at them before pulling you behind him. He felt you resisting his grip after entering the parking lot so he grabbed your hips and picked you up. He sat you in the passenger seat then got in himself, driving back home without saying a word.

You knew you were in for it.

Once you two made it to his place you were trying to get Joel to speak to you. He just gave you a hard look and tossed you over his shoulder without further resistance; he carried you to his bedroom, sat down, and forced you to bend over in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Jo—ow!”

He had landed a firm slap across the back of your thigh and then broke the zipper on your shorts from yanking them down. Your hips ached from the waistband digging into your bones. You tried wiggling from his grasp causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and yank it back.

He smoothed a hand over the peaks of your ass for a few seconds, not wanting to hurt his precious girl.

But then he remembered how you left him without a care in the world just to spite him.

He gave you another spank that burned furiously against your flesh and forced a cry out of your throat.

“I’ll never do it again,” you pleaded, “I swear! Joel—“

Another smack.

“Fuckin’ damn right, you won’t,” he grunted, watching your ass color red. “You wanna fuck some dumb college boy, huh?”

You whimpered and waved your feet around desperately.

Smack! “Answer me when I ask you a question. Do you wanna fuck people your own fucking age?”

You shook your head frighteningly fast, waving your feet around more as if it would get him to release your hair but his grip only tightened. “No, Joel! I only want you—just you. Please, Joel, I’m sorry.”

He tugged at your panties, not too harshly, just gently enough to create a wedge between your cheeks. You were thankful he didn’t notice your eyes roll back and the soft moan that left you from the friction against your throbbing clit and asshole.

“My ol’ ass not enough for you? S’that it?” He whispered in your ear.

“Of course not—“

He popped you again from your words before pulling your panties up again, hating how you said it like it should have been obvious.

He watched you grind into the taut cloth, humping his knee. Although it was a subconscious movement from your body it didn’t stop him from letting out a humorous laugh.

“So fucking needy, ain’t ya?” He cooed, releasing the fabric and trailing a thick finger down the wet spot in your panties. “M’over here punishin’ you and you’re fucking my leg.”

“M’sorry,” you mumbled.

“You like it when I spank you?” He cooed in your ear; you nodded and he chuckled softly, tickling the hairs along your neck. “Yeah?”

“I like it when—… When you pull my panties,” you bashfully admit. “Feels good.”

He slowly let your hair go and cradled your jaw softly to keep your head up. With a smirk, he toyed with the linings of your panties. “You like when I hurt that pretty little ass a’yours?”

You hummed, taking one of his fingers in your mouth. He circled the pad of his middle finger around the rim of your clothed asshole, letting out a hum or a chuckle every time he felt it pulse.

“You’re gonna be good from now on, girl?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered against his fingers, spit drooling into his palm.

“Good,” he hummed softly, “good.”

“Can you,” you paused, unsure of why you were still acting shy. “Can you please pull my panties again?”

He happily obliged, starting a little gentler this time. He watched the shadow of your face contort with pleasure while you moaned softly, grinding your clit into his knee some more.

He watched one of your swollen pussy lips escape from the constriction so he pulled them some more to make the other lip appear.

You moaned at the thin fabric being engulfed by your cunt, clenching so more of your juices oozed out.

You felt his finger gently slip beneath the fabric to rub your wet entrance. You exhaled at his long finger slipping inside of you, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your asshole to circle it briefly.

He removed his finger and snuggled your panties up more. The friction stung your skin deliciously. He landed a smack on your ass cheek with the noise piercing your ears; you yelped and flinched, seductively laughing afterward.

Joel noticed the outline of his hand appearing along your flesh, red and bruised. He kneaded it with his palm and told you to bend over the edge of his bed. Once you were on your stomach again you felt him pull your shorts off of you completely, then your panties. His hands warmed over your thighs, grazing your ass and touching your lower back. He pressed his thumbs in slightly to massage you there for a few seconds before he slid his hands back down again to spread your ass.

You held your lip between your teeth throughout his touches, not wanting to make any noises in case he wanted you quiet.

The cool arousal leaving your body dripped down to your clit almost making you flinch from the temperature difference. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, seeking his fingers or his tongue or his cock — anything. His laugh was taunting and raspy, seeing how desperate you were for him.

"Such a needy girl, hmm?" He took a deep breath leaning into your flesh; his tongue scooped up your juices from your clit to your ass in one long, heavy lick. You gasped, surprised by the sudden contact. You were left disappointed when he didn’t continue lapping at you, but a rush of joy ran through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you.

He heard your simpering little giggle, smiling at how cute it sounded but still popping your right ass cheek where you had begun to bruise. You hissed, chewing on your lip while he undressed from the waist down.

He teased his length along your slit, spreading your wetness upwards and slapping his fat tip roughly against the tight ring of muscle.

And it fucking hurt, more than you were expecting, but judging by Joel’s chuckle he already knew it would.

You understood his need to humiliate you. That was the whole reason for doing what you did. You wanted him to have his way with you just as you had a few nights ago.

But you hurt his feelings more than you expected to and much more than he would like to admit.

He slapped your puckering hole even harder to elicit a response from you, satisfied when you groaned his name.

“Joooel, that hurts.”

He lined up with your pussy, not quite touching you yet. His only response was, “Good,” before shoving his thick cock inside of you.

You screamed at him tearing your walls apart with cruelty, clenching furiously around him to try and adjust quicker.

But he wouldn’t let you.

He pulled out of you to watch your muscles flex for a second, then rammed back inside of you; he stayed as deep as he could.

After ensuring your stomach would remain glued to the bed his lips pressed a wet kiss to the rim of your ear. He listened to your soft cries, feeling your hips wriggle beneath him.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asked again.

You panted with annoyance and told him, “If you fucking ease up on me.”

It was an absentminded comment with consequences you’d be dealing with for days. Joel just clicked his tongue at you and dug his hips into your flesh deeper. His cockhead nudged your cervix serving up a mixture of pain and pleasure throughout your stomach.

He didn’t want to be too mean, however, so he pulled back and pushed his weight into your lower back from his palms. Your stomach being smooshed into the bed made the impacts of his thrusts feel deeper than they were.

Your precum enthusiastically coated his shaft, lubing your entrance as he rammed into you. Your voice was breathy as you spoke.

“Joel—th-that feels… That feels good.” Your eyelids hung low creating a blurry line of vision, head bobbing from his stuttering hips.

“You like getting fucked like a slut?” He spat to which you confirmed. “S’that why you act like one?”

You admitted your faults, not wanting him to ease up on you.

“You wanna fucking dance on someone again?”

You didn’t respond, too immersed in how good he was touching you.

He grunted, pulling out of you leaving strings of your precum mixed with his hanging; he flipped you around and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, using his other hand to hold you at the base of your spine. He lifted you off of the bed, making you yelp.

Once he got into a comfortable position he removed his hand from your neck, showing you how strong he was being able to hold you up on his own. Your legs looped around his waist as he stood tall, your hands clinging to the broad peaks of his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he whispered; not wanting to be scolded again you lazily obliged. He laughed like a bully at your worn-out expression. “You’re so pretty like this, already fucked out like you can’t handle it.”

“Too much,” you complained against his lips in a short breath.

His hips snapped into yours, jolting your eyes wide open. “I don’t care. You wanted to act like a slut, so you’re gonna have to get fucked like one.”

“Joel—“

He shut you up by shoving his free fingers into your mouth, while the nails of his other hand dug into your back.

He didn’t want to hear your apologies anymore, or your complaints. He wanted you to shut up and take it, like a good fucking girl.

He saw the hindrance of innocence in your eyes that tried to beckon his forgiveness. He ignored it, meeting you with a punishing frown. The heavyweight stare riddled your nerves with anxiety — you didn’t want to disappoint him again.

He ravaged your attitude, breaking you down until he got his way with you just like you had all this time.

“You gonna be a good girl?” He asked again, shoving his fingers further back. You hummed into his hand and nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. He gasped when you twirled your tongue around his digits, slurping up the taste of his flesh. “You like that?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He experimented by pushing his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged and coughed, but bit down on his knuckles so that he wouldn’t take them out.

His thrusts slowed because he was too focused on feeling your throat, something that felt entirely different against his fingers versus his cock.

Seeking his approval, you took this as an opportunity to fuck yourself on him. With your shaky fingers pressing into his shoulder blades you lifted you rocked your hips up and down, clenching around his length often.

“Look at’cha… You need to cum baby?” His fingers left your mouth indicating he wanted a verbal response.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good for you.”

“You’ll be good?”

“Yes. Fuck—yes. I’ll be so good for you, Joel. I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He moaned at your cunt gripping him, smiling at how you humped him. You couldn’t hide your deprivation from him any longer, but he wanted you to earn it.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructed, smirking when you did so immediately. He gripped your ass with both of his wide hands to steady you. “Yeah, there you go. S’pretty like this…”

Your hair was glued to the sweat on your face and your eyes were low with a wave of tears waiting to spill onto your cheeks. Your teeth waned behind your red lips as you gurgled from choking on your saliva.

“You’re so pretty for me, princess,” he cooed; despite the softness in his voice, his tone was still suggestive of his anger.

He was on the verge of forgiving you, but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Your arms and core were growing weaker the harder you worked your body on his, but you were so determined to cum — and to do it on his command.

“Tell me how pretty you are,” he said with a devilish grin widening.

You were a little lost — what exactly did he want?

“Hmm?” You hummed, unintentionally slowing down.

“Tell me… How pretty you are,” he said again.

“Um…” Your mind was blank, God, Joel could really fuck you stupid, couldn’t he? “I’m—I’m so pretty,” you whispered.

You couldn’t think of what to say.

Maybe if I compliment myself the way Joel does…

“You like how pretty I am for you?” You asked. “All fucked out from your cock?”

His eyes rolled shut as he let out an obscenely long groan.

He liked that, you thought.

“I look so pretty with your cock stretching me out, don’t I? Hmm, yes, fuck—ah! You make me so pretty when you let me fuck myself on you, Joel—gah! Do you—fuck. Do you wanna see how pretty I am when I cum like this?”

His eyes shot open at the proposal, the only words his mind was able to compute being, “Yes, princess. Yes, yes, cum for me—mnh, God. You feel so fucking good.”

His words were encouraging enough to keep you going, long enough to light that fire that tickled you red.

“Show me how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.”

Your ass stung from him squeezing where his punishment landed, adding fuel to your rising orgasm.

He saw it spread across your precious body: your eyes wavering between open and close, your mouth pouting with his name leaving your tight throat, your nipples peaking, goosebumps flaring across your entire body.

You were flushed red and heaving and Joel couldn’t look away. You looked so ethereal, wrapping your fluttering pussy around the base of his dick and grinding in circular motions.

Pins and needles poked your arms from holding your weight, but the climax felt too good to let up so soon. You were sensitive, knotty, and engulfed in the stillness you were finally able to have.

“My pretty girl,” Joel whispered sweetly.

You opened your lazy eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Show me how pretty you are when you cum,” you said against his lips.

He took a moment to catch his breath before propping his arms underneath your thighs one by one. Your body thanked you for the relief.

Your cunt squelched cum onto his balls while the air thickened with the aroma of sex and sweat.

So sleepy, you felt as he continued to drive his hips into you, but he was so handsome in the low light of the moon. You felt your soul tie to his own, blending your orgasm into admiration for the man.

This was anything but the casual agreement you two had come to weeks ago, but fuck was it well worth it. His jealousy was a sign of a weakness he only possessed when it came to you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whispered with need. You wrapped your hands around his jawline and pressed his lips against yours.

The slip of your tongue against his was nasty. It was fucking filthy. You licked each other anywhere you could reach, coating one another in saliva as if to mark your territories.

Joel whimpered against your lips, admitting his arrival in the middle of the kiss. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I—…”

His mouth parted as he brought you impossibly close to his body, and he felt a knee nearly give out from the intensity of his orgasm. He drifted his body to the floor so he could sit on his knees, not wanting to drop you.

His thrusts were small and deep as he continued ruining your sore walls with his ropes of cum.

Still entangled in a series of kisses, they simmered to a savory pace. You tasted each other and relished in the filthy mix of bodily fluids.

You’d never been so sweaty from sex in your life yet it felt so fucking amazing.

He pumped you so full of cum that even with his cock plugging you a little bit of it managed to leak out. You both smiled at the feeling and broke away from each other's lips.

With your head tossed back on the edge of his bed and his head resting on your chest, you just sat there in silence.

His hands gloss over your back and your fingers stroking the wet curls on his head. You wanted to stay here forever, clinging to him like a bear to a tree.

He pressed a kiss onto your collarbone before raising his head to look at you.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you moaned shut-eyed, obviously very tired from sex. He grunted from standing up again and laid you in the cold bed before grabbing your panties and slipping them back up your legs. You finished it for him, making sure they were snug against your entrance to keep the cum from spilling out too much.

“I’ll go get some takeout, princess.”

You hummed with a small smile at his new nickname for you, feeling him press a kiss to your temple before you fell into a deep slumber.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yawned as he entered the kitchen.

“I am making us eggs and only eggs because you have a poor selection of breakfast foods.”

He snickered, closing the space between you and wrapping his warm arms around your waist. “Well, thank you, princess,” he mumbled against the curve of your neck.

His fingers slipped beneath the shirt you borrowed from him and found the hem of your panties. You didn’t allow his hands to distract you as you spread the fluffy eggs out over two plates.

“I guess this…” His fingers slipped inside of your partially wet cunt, curling just the way you like. “…is my breakfast.”

You shivered as goosebumps poked your skin from the motion of his hand, and you smirked to yourself when his other hand tugged at your panties. Once they hit the ground he bent you over slightly to pull his cock out, gliding it along your slit to tease you. You turned the stove off and gripped the counter, careful to not burn yourself.

Not even a moment later you felt his velvety cock smack against the peak of your ass, and you moaned at how warm he felt against your cold flesh.

“Joel,” you exhaled. “You’re fucking ruining me.”

“Y’say it like it’s a bad thing,” he grunted whilst sliding inside of you.

You moaned, eyes closing softly. “Not at all.”

He rolled his hips slowly, careful not to break you any more than he did just the night before. His hot breath filled your ears with decadent compliments about how good you were for him and how much he wanted to show his appreciation.

Joel fought a moan every time he saw your eyelashes flutter shut and heard you sharply inhale between gritted teeth. His confession of admiration seemed to hold more weight than before. That knot inside of you gushes at his rasps of affection, pushing you toward the edge.

You focused on how he felt, every little thing he was doing: his left hand held you steady at your hip while his right stroked your hair calmly as if you were his new pet kitten. His hips curled into the shape of you as if his body was planting kisses anywhere you managed to still be bruised from his punishments. His thighs trembled against the back of your stiff legs, urging you to let go whenever you were ready, not quite rushing you.

His voice was staggering and cracking, the words I love you straining against his throat from him suffocating it with praises instead.

You knew all of the you’re doing so good f’me’s and you sound so beautiful’s and you look so pretty with my cock inside of you’s were just invulnerably hidden I love you’s, but it didn’t bother you.

You understood what he truly meant and that’s all you needed for now.

His lovely teeth nibbled into the valley of your ear earning a giggle from you; you were so close—so fucking close. You needed more.

You tried rubbing your swollen and throbbing clit yourself but it wasn’t enough. Joel’s need to take care of you radiated from the heat of his body and you craved more of his touch; you moved his hand from your hip to your stiff bud, guiding his fingers to perform the way you sought.

His fingers were strong and thick and just what you needed to overflow, clawing at his bicep, leaning your head back to rest upon his shoulder.

It felt so good to be held by him. A longing that burrowed itself into your soul resurfaced. Ready to be fulfilled by him.

His words turned into simpering little mewls of yes’s and cum for me’s as you clenched around him.

He knew you were just barely there and he was adamant on not changing his pace or patterns if it meant he could watch you crumble.

Joel’s right hand left your hair and held your agape jaw to keep your head from bobbing too much after one of your legs buckled and your grip around his muscles tightened. He increased the force of his thrusts emphasizing the sound of his hips clapping against your heated skin.

His body was aching from the lack of rest but every moan you let out was so soft and subtle that it motivated him to continue.

Your breathing was shallow, filled with whimpers since he wouldn’t ease up on your sore cunt, but you loved it. Your body craved the sin of secrecy that had Joel’s name written all over it.

All the sneaking around, lying, and pretending you two are nothing more than long-time neighbors made all of this worth it. The games. Chasing each other. Waiting days—if not weeks just for a kiss was the thrill of it all.

Deep down you knew it couldn’t last forever; it’d either have to come out or come to an end. But couldn’t you live in the fantasy just for a little while,

moaning Joel’s name a little longer,

feeling the thick cum etched between your bodies,

feeling him stiffen up or jolt whenever your breath hit his sensitive ears,

laughing every time he accidentally slipped out,

getting so carried away that you couldn’t hear anything else…

…Like the garage door opening.

“Oh! Shit!”

You and Joel immediately pulled away, shocked by the sudden boom of Tommy’s voice; with trembling legs, you struggled your underwear back up while Joel tried to tuck in what refused to be hidden.

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t…” Tommy’s voice trailed off as he looked over and realized it was… You?

Wearing one of Joel’s big t-shirts and some rainbow-striped socks, Tommy said your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out.

“Jesus, Tommy. Quit lookin’ at her like that,” Joel complained while ushering Tommy into the next room.

“Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat.” Joel briefly looked back at you with those puppy eyes of his and asked if you were okay. You could only give him a tense nod in response.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in before looking at the plate of now-cold eggs.

Embarrassed wasn’t even the word. Distress curled around every crevice in the pit of your stomach making you feel nauseous.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, regaining enough composure to grab two forks from the utensils drawer and take them out to the living room where the two men sat and spoke.

“Here you go, Tommy,” you said sheepishly while trying to pretend that you weren’t avoiding eye contact. Turning to Joel you said, “I’m gonna head home.”

“You don’t have to leave ‘cus I’m here,” Tommy said, his apologetic tone emphasizing his indication. “I didn’t mean to impose or nothin’, it was… Just a surprise.”

“I gotta go shower and change my clothes anyways, so, uh…”

“Here, I’ll go help you get your things. I’ll be right back Tommy,” Joel said. You both walked up to Joel’s cluttered room where he shut the door softly and then apologized. “I forgot we picked up a job for today,” he explained.

“Well, I have been told I’m a pretty good distraction,” you teased, fumbling with last night’s clothes. He chuckled and watched as you got dressed, asking himself how it got to this point. “I probably can’t do anything until Sunday. My dad wants to take me to this new movie tomorrow, and then some event thingy Saturday.”

“Sunday, that’s…” Joel’s voice trailed off while he pretended to think about something.

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before hitting his arm with his t-shirt. He caught hold of it and used it to bring you closer, the grin of a jester playing on his face.

“I’m kiddin’, princess. I know it’s your birthday,” he cooed against your lips. His kiss embraced your laughter and made him smile again, but this time much more humbly. “I got you a present—but if I give it t’ya now I’ll be empty-handed in two days.”

You cocked an eyebrow up and stared at his lips causing him to vapidly blush. “You won’t be empty-handed,” you whispered. You held his hand in yours and brought it next to your face.

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, ‘cus I’ll make sure to keep both’a your hands busy,” you teased.

He watched carefully as you brought his index finger to your drooling mouth and took it in slowly. You somewhat forced his finger down your throat pretending it was his cock. You choked on the thick digit and pouted at him with your eyes.

He gasped at the textures of your narrow throat, frowning in a way that let you you’ve ignited something in him. He fought his moans harder than he ever needed to before, staring at you gag and slurp and slobber around his finger.

You curled your tongue against the webbing of his fingers and licked all of the excess spit up into your mouth with a swift bob of your head.

This made him bite his lip to shut himself up; you decided to not bully the poor man any longer and released his hand, smirking.

“You’re gonna regret that Sunday, princess. I’ll tell you that right now,” he threatened, however, his tone was full of defeat and his voice sounded higher from the strain of silencing moans.

“What are ya gonna do about it, old man?” You teased before walking out of his room.

Your birthday was more fun than you were expecting, more than enough people showed up (granted more than half of them were your dad’s friends), and you spent more time being the photographer than the center of attention.

Joel and Tommy showed up fashionably late (you’ve chosen to believe Joel’s watch is set two hours back). Meanwhile, their arrival earned a few giggles and stares from your high school friends.

They tried to talk to you about how much hotter Joel and Tommy had gotten while you pretended not to feel the pang of jealousy in your chest whenever they gawked at Joel a little too long.

They asked if you two had hooked up since being back and the only lie you managed to conjure was, “Joel’s either always at work or with my dad, so… I haven’t really been able to try.”

“Wait, does your dad know you two used to hook up?” One of your friends, Bri asked.

Right now you were really regretting telling all those lies…

“No,” you said almost too enthusiastically, “and I plan on keepin’ it that way. Not worth the trouble.”

“Well, if Joel’s not worth the trouble to you then you wouldn’t mind if I gave it a shot, would ya?”

You resisted rolling your eyes, wavering the drink in your hand around and mumbling, “Go ahead.”

“Hey,” another friend said after tapping you on your extended arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. Joel’s just one guy.” She must have noticed the defeat in your eyes.

Maybe to you, you thought.

Before you could respond Bri was sitting back down at your patio table with an embarrassed pout on her face, and for some reason, you were surprised rather than happy (okay, you were a little happy).

“What happened?” You asked.

“He said he’s seeing someone else,” she scoffed. “Do you know if he even likes blondes? Because I can always dye my hair darker.”

You chuckled, “I don’t think he has a preference.”

The rest of them changed subjects so when your eyes went searching for Joel, you found him standing next to your dad at the grill where he was already looking at you wearing a smile. You smiled at him and then turned your focus back to your friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

Once your friends had left for the night and your dad ended up in a game of dice with his buddies, you realized you needed some time to decompress from all the socializing.

Your dad insisted on cleaning up for you the way you always did for him, so you made your way upstairs intending to lie down for a few minutes.

With your back facing the door as you flipped through a magazine Joel was able to sneak into your room; it was the lock clicking that scared you.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Joel!” You gasped while throwing your magazine at him.

He chuckled hoarsely and leaned against the wall with the doorknob sticking into his back.

“Could at least make a little more noise when you’re following me!”

“The more noise we make the quicker we get caught,” he spoke under his breath.

Your eyes were wide as you took the sight of him in; his skin was beautifully tanned from the Texas sun, his biceps straining against his almost too-small t-shirt, and his jeans hung a little lower than usual.

His glossy eyes lingered on yours as he watched you stand up and check him out. He saw the fear on your face morph into lust, increasing as you walked towards him.

“What’chu nervous for?” He teased after watching your hand fidget with your belly button ring.

You barely heard him, thoughts immersing into thoughts of all the things you wanted him to do to you. “Hmm?”

Even as you got closer to him your eyes couldn’t leave the imprints of his muscles effortlessly flexing against his shirt.

“You play with your piercing every time you get nervous,” he told you after you pressed your body against his.

Ignoring his statement, you stared at the shadow of his collarbone and the light layer of hair coating his chest.

“Look at me,” he cooed, yet you only did it for a second, fueling that same attitude he had at the bar.

He tapped underneath your chin more roughly than you liked, almost like a smack.

But when you looked at his face again you saw that darkness you knew you wanted it like that night again, despite your attempts at hiding it.

Joel could always see past your bullshit.

“You like when I’m mean to you, girl?” He asked. You opened your mouth, ready to omit, but he held a warning finger up. “Don’t. Do not lie to me.”

You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and batted your eyes at him before naively nodding your head. “Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t peg you for the mean type.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No? But you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” you whispered against his wet lips.

You didn’t need to decompress. You needed to unwind.

“I bet you did, rubbing that needy little pussy all over my leg when I was bruising you up all sweet and blue,” he bullied.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your breath left your body, remembering how good it felt for him to punish you. When you looked at him again you saw an egotistical smirk had plastered itself onto his face.

“Problem s’that you didn’t disobey me tonight, so how could I possibly punish you when you were being such a sweetheart? Sayin’ thank you after opening every one of your gifts and offerin’ to help out.“ His tone was sadistic, taunting…

“Well, it is my birthday…” You said grinning. A heat burned through the pit of your stomach and spilled into your panties. “…and no one’s given me my birthday spankings yet.”

He remained quiet opting to run his hands up your arms until they cradled your face, thumbs stroking your lips and cheeks.

“You gonna count ‘em for me?” He whispered without breaking eye contact.

You smirked and kissed him tenderly. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed at your bed where you went to bend over the edge for him.

His boots softly knocked against the hardwood floor as he paced behind you, pondering in his head how he wanted to proceed.

Despite the curiosity that made you want to turn around and ask him questions, you stayed still and quiet until he gave you your first instruction.

“Take your shorts off.”

You reached for the button and zipper before pushing the denim down until it met your knees on the floor. Your hips wiggling more than necessary.

“No panties?” He said amusedly. You heard his body move behind you so that he became eye level with your ass. “You must’a really wanted that present from me tonight, huh?”

You nodded your head and reached under your stomach, using both hands to spread yourself for him. “I’ve been touching myself all weekend thinking about it.”

Joel stifled a moan at the sight of the creamy precum that revealed itself between your swollen lips.

You flinched and yelped at the sudden feeling of his middle finger spreading your cum around your tight hole making him smile.

“Rub your clit f’me, baby,” he rasped.

Licking your lips you rested your head down on the bed before listening to him; your ring and middle fingers rubbed perfect loops on your bud while your pinkie finger kept your cunt spread for his eyes.

He glanced at your ass which was still marked from his abuse nights prior.

“My God, girl… These my bruises?” He asked wanting to hear your submission.

“No one else I’d let do this to me,” you breathed out.

His calloused hands gripped and massaged your butt for a few quiet moments until a firm smack landed on your left cheek.

His touch left your body as he anticipated a verbal response from you but it took too long for you to compose yourself.

You were just so fucking eager for his fingers to dance around your cunt that you made the mistake of forgetting the arrangement that occurred only two minutes prior.

“I don’t hear you countin’, girl,” he warned.

“Shit,” you whispered, “sorry—“

He interrupted you with another smack, only this one landed on your spread lips.

“Ah!” You yelped, quickly burying your face into your sheets. It stung ruthlessly. “One… And two…”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mean smirk on his face burning into the back of your skull. “Take too long t’answer me again… You get the rest on that pretty little pussy a’yours. Understand?”

Your knees braced into the floor as you nodded. “Yes, I understand, Joel.”

“Mm,” he hummed grumpily. “Good.”

Smack.

“Three,” you hissed.

Smack.

“Four…”

Smack!

The pain was starting to get to you in the best way possible.

You knew that for the next week anytime you would sit down on your bruised cheeks you’d remember how Joel took care of you in the way you wanted him to.

One spanking in exchange for one orgasm — that’s how you saw it anyway. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment, but he went into this knowing he’d find a way to make it worth your while however you saw fit.

Joel only dominated you because you dominated him in every other aspect. When it came to sex he lived to serve you. So if 23 spankings is what you wanted, well then… What kind of man would he be to deny you of that?

By the end of the torture, you didn’t even want to think about sitting down for the next two weeks.

Joel saw your reflection in the mirror hanging from your closet, watching those red and puffy lips curl into a beautiful smile.

“Dunno how much longer we got, girl,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Best make it quick.”

Your eyes softly close and you bite your lip, giggling and moaning at how his southern drawl sounded especially sexy tonight. He noticed how lazily you were acting and laughed.

“You already fucked stupid?” He said with a small smile.

You turned onto your back, hissing at the pressure on your ass but giggling again at his annoyed tone and pursed lips. “Hmm… Maybe.”

Joel opened his mouth to say something but you raised your feet to rub against the growing bulge in his worn jeans. He watched your bottom lip get stuck between your rows of teeth, shining a drunken smile at him.

“You wanna play around, girl?” He flirted, a crooked show of his grin sending chills throughout your body.

“Wanna feel you, deep…” You let out a strained moan, cunt gripping so tight around nothing your precum slid out.

His fingers slid to the bulky strap of his belt and pulled it from his waist so fast it ended with a snap.

“So pretty like this…” He whispered as he sprung his cock free from its restraints.

Your face warmed with blush and your nipples stiffened at the sight of his dick: so hard it only slightly curved to the right, with a red hot angry tip beaming with a thick droplet of precum.

He leveled with your body and slid into you slowly, not wanting to risk making you moan louder than the walls could handle.

“Need you to be quiet for me, baby,” he whispered, “can ya do that f’me?”

Your eyes were shut, lips still between your teeth as you hummed and mewled. You nodded, looping his curls around the webs of your fingers and legs around his soft waist.

A breathy grunt escaped his mouth. His breath hit just below your ear making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

As his hips softly crashed into yours you felt yourself tensing at the sound of people outside and downstairs. You’d managed to forget your father’s friends were still here, and any one of them could walk upstairs to use the restroom only to hear the soft squeak of your bed frame—your father could.

Joel was just so easy to get lost in. His scent, his pretty smile, his touch… The way his tongue lapped at your neck like a cat would milk. How his hands cradled your waist and thighs. When he’d move his head up just for a moment to look into your heavy eyes.

God, you were a fucking mess.

His cock slid effortlessly against your needy walls, pressing deeply into that perfect spot at an angle you’d never felt before. And fucking hell, you wanted to say his name shamelessly. Scream it and plaster it onto the fucking walls if you could.

You did everything in your power to keep quiet, struggling from how your bruised ass stung even more every time his body crashed into you.

Joel bit the meat on your shoulder to shut himself up. His body yearning to fill you up with his precious seed was almost distracting. Almost.

“Doin’ so good f’me, girl,” he whispered into your chest, the pace increasing. “Might need t’cum.”

“Joel,” you whined, not needing anything more. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your head was thrown back into the mess of your blankets.

The knot in your tummy twisted, curling tightly around itself. You let out too loud of a breath that turned into a moan, but nothing too incriminating.

“Do not make me have to pull out and stop, now,” he rasped before taking two fingers and shoving them into your desperately open mouth.

You choked at the surprise but settled down and bit at his knuckles.

His face pressed into one of your tits as another desperate attempt to keep quiet, but all he had to do was feel you cumming to finish himself. Joel’s cock was sensitive and overwhelmed, and despite his best efforts to keep going for the sake of satisfying you he just couldn’t fucking take it.

You pouted and tried to pull him back in after he slipped from inside you to no avail.

“M’sorry, princess,” he huffed, annoyed with himself. “Can’t handle you sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes but saw the disappointment on his face as he buckled his pants back up.

“Just sneak over tonight,” you flirted, “suck me dry.”

He smirked at your coy smile and slid your bottoms back onto your hips. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, cowboy.”

It had been about a week since your birthday, and Joel did indeed sneak over to give you your well-deserved orgasm, give or take three more.

And his real birthday present was a small Eiffel Tower; he had remembered how you’d always wanted to visit Paris. While he wasn’t the most superstitious or spiritual man he said he’d hope it would bring you good luck with traveling for fashion.

Your dad on the other hand had been quite distant since that night and you wondered if he saw or maybe even heard something that gave your little secret away. Your dirty lies. Had they finally caught up to you?

Or were you just overthinking things? Maybe he’s just been moody or tired or in hermit mode. It could have been lots of things, right?

Needless to say, it was a shock when he called you downstairs as soon as you were done with your shower.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?” You asked as you entered the kitchen.

“You tell me,” he grumbled, eyeing you as you sat down.

“Ummm, the apocalypse is happening and flesh-eating monsters are taking over,” you answered sarcastically. When his facial expression didn’t even change in the slightest you stopped joking. “Uh, I…don’t know…”

“Whose shirt is this?”

A dull brown and red flannel was tossed onto the island and you just knew your face gave you away.

“Dad—“

“Don’t lie to me either,” he said between gritted teeth.

Your father already knew it was Joel’s, you knew that. But he always gave you the opportunity to take accountability for your actions. Not like it made him less mad, it just softened the blow.

“Where did you find it?” You asked, voice shaking.

“Yesterday,” he said after some hesitation, “you were at work for your last day. I was doin’ your laundry and there it was, as plain as day.”

You shut your eyes, a tear of embarrassment rolling down your cheek that you wiped away swiftly. “It’s Joel’s.”

“Why is it here?”

You looked at him with eyes that begged for him to not ask, but his face was hardened.

“Because Joel was here,” you reluctantly answered.

“When.”

“A… A few times.”

“Why?!”

The tension was suffocating; you figured you were already caught so you may as well admit to everything—well, not everything if you could help it.

“Because we’ve been seeing each other,” you said softly, leaning your forehead onto your hand. “Since I got back, we’ve been seeing each other. Sometimes I go there, sometimes he comes here.”

“Since you got back?”

You nodded and faced him again, fighting your tears. It wasn’t that you were sad or worried about what your dad may have done, you just wished you were more honest from the start.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I made the first move. I was trying to get over my boyfriend and… He was there… And it just sort of happened.“

“S’good thing you’re going back to New York soon.”

Your heart sank—had your dad forgotten when you said you were thinking of staying in Austin to stay close? Not just for Joel, but everybody. Your family, your friends, you wanted to be near when Sarah graduated. You missed life in Texas, too much to go back to New York State so soon.

“I—I told you I wanted to stay, that I was thinking of staying close,” you rambled, “did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. You’re not allowed to see him anymore. You in New York makes sure that happens.”

“Wh—not allowed?!” You almost laughed. “I’m twenty-five, I make my own decisions.”

“He’s too old for you,” he said.

You scoffed, standing up. “I’m not some mentally incompetent eighteen-year-old, Dad. I’m a grown woman dating a grown man!”

“Not here! Not when you’re living in my house.”

“Well, then I will just fucking move out!”

You ignored his protests and calls for you, feeling like a grounded teenager all over again.

What you and Joel had was fickle, you knew that. You weren’t stupid. It wasn’t built on a foundation, it was hardly dating even though you wanted it to be more.

Your dad would come around someday. Hell, maybe he would have already had you been honest from the start.

“Hey, Sarah, is your dad home?” You stiffly asked.

She frowned at your puffy eyes and red nose, looking over her shoulder before saying, “Uh, n—no, but he’s just runnin’ a bit late from work. Why don’t you come in and wait for him? He should be back any minute.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t wanna impose. Just tell him to call me when he gets some free time, please?”

“You sure?”

You nodded, not necessarily trusting your voice anymore with how you were choking up from your tears.

Sarah’s shoulders dropped and she insisted you come in. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.”

After a moment of hesitation, you followed her inside after picking your bag up, wiping your nose, and clearing your throat.

Sarah was kind enough to bring you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down a couple of cushions away.

“Are you breaking up with my dad or something?” She asked after a minute or two.

“What?”

“He told me a couple days ago, but I already figured because I heard him talking to you on the phone a while ago. Something about missing you,” she explained.

“I’m sorry, Sarah, I…” You sighed and looked at your hands. “I wish I was there to tell you.”

“No, that’s okay! I think it’s kinda cool. A little weird, but cool.” She assured. “But are you? Breaking up with him, I mean.”

“No, well at least I hope not,” you chuckled softly. “My father isn’t a very forgiving man.”

“He just wants to protect you. My dad said that’s just what fathers do. I’m sure he’ll come around someday.”

“Thanks, Sarah.”

The lock clicks soon followed by the door creaking open; you and Sarah watch as Joel walks in with empty hands before he notices you sitting on his couch. A look of worry spread across his face.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah chirped while standing up. “She just came by to see us.” Sarah walked into the kitchen to give you some privacy.

Joel sat next to you and gestured at the ground. “Why do you have a bag?”

“Oh, I’m just going to stay with a friend for a few days,” you said.

He nodded reluctantly, sensing your nervousness. “Your dad find out?”

A wave of sadness took over you again, but you managed your tears away better this time. You only offered a nod, nails picking at a loose thread on your jeans.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I was gonna make steak for dinner.”

“I—I don’t wanna… Impose.”

He chuckled. “What d’you mean impose? You’re my girlfriend.”

Letting out a surprised sound, you frowned and looked around the room incredulously while Joel just stared at you anxiously.

“Girlfriend?”

He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Well. You are my girlfriend, right?”

“You never asked,” you laughed.

His eyes were a mix of amusement and surprise. “My apologies, darlin’. Forgive me for not having been gentleman enough.” He takes your hand earning a laugh from you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so sappy,” you teased before giving him a peck on the cheek. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“I dunno what I’m gon’ do,” you said softly.

You and Joel had been in bed for a couple of hours just talking about everything, with Sarah sound asleep in her room; the three of you had watched one of Joel’s favorite movies and Sarah gave him a fixed watch.

You shifted up to rest on your elbow and looked down at him. “How much longer you think he’ll be mad?”

“I don’t know, princess,” he said after sucking his teeth. “He doesn’t tend to hold grudges but I know he’s more mad at me. F’it’s any consolation.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw just firm enough to keep you still. Your lips tangled with his, fingers reaching up to clasp his curls; he climbed on top of you carefully, humming on the tip of your tongue.

He began to grind and hump eliciting moans from you both while his right hand got to work beneath your shirt, thumbing the nipple just enough to tickle you.

Your hand snaked between your bodies to find the opening of his boxers; you pulled his velvety cock out and pumped it gently whilst not bothering to touch yourself as your panties were already pooling.

Your heart ached with so much pain and at the same time so much love. You needed Joel. In every fucking way possible for as long as you’d be blessed to have him.

His lips broke free from yours to greet your neck, then your collarbone, before planting around your now exposed breast.

You exhaled at his warm tongue swirling saliva around your peaked bud, sending waves of shivers down your arching spine.

“Joel,” you whispered leaning into his gentle touch.

With a throbbing clit and a slippery cunt you felt weak beneath him. You were enamored with pleasure that it overtook your body. You couldn’t control your breathing or your trembling. Hand awkwardly shifting around his shaft.

He took your other nipple into his hot mouth, shirt bunched around your arching neck. With daunting hands he traced the hem of your panties, pulling at them carefully.

He sat on his knees to undress your legs, adjusting so his cock lined up with your entrance. He slid in slowly, knowing the lack of foreplay could ruin this.

But it didn’t.

Your walls burned with a stretch so delicious it set your skin on fire. It took everything in you to not moan as loudly as your body begged to.

A soft gasp only leaving your lips, your head lolling back, eyes clenching shut… Yeah. Joel knew how to fucking work you.

Your walls clung to him fearing even just a moment of loss. His eyes burned into your feverish skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest and stomach as you took in deep breaths.

“You feel so good,” he whispered into your collarbone, placing a sloppy kiss on it afterward. “I lo—“

A pause in his voice made your eyes fly open; his hips stuttered the same way his voice did signaling something was wrong.

Joel’s heart punched against yours, but he kept grinding into you like he hadn’t spoken at all. Oh, but all the worry was written in his eyes.

“Joel?” You softly asked between moans.

He took in the softness of your hands cradling his uneven stubble. He hummed and kissed the meat of your palm before biting it gently.

You fought the nerves in your voice. Everything inside your body screamed that this was wrong, yet as you looked into his eyes your heart swelled with admiration for the man that helped you find pieces of yourself again.

“I love you too,” you finally said.

He stopped moving his body against yours and he just stared at you. He was conflicted with whether or not you said that only because he almost did.

But when you said it again and tightened your legs around his waist to affirm it he gave you a gentle kiss, finding his tongue bumping into yours along the way. Pulling back, Joel finished his sentence.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” You teased.

But his face remained serious, eyes boring into yours.

After a few more silent seconds Joel laid his head into the curve of your neck and began riding into you again. Hips rolling into you, breath hitting your neck, and hands gripping the sheets.

Your body was hot as molten lava, melting into the mattress. Joel felt so safe, so beautifully safe. Safe enough to say, “I love you,” in his ear over and over again, his voice overlapping yours with the same words.

He took care of you that night. Letting you immerse yourself into enjoying every damn thing he gave you. His grunts staggered and turned into short hisses of pain as you bit into his shoulder to keep quiet. That’s what fueled him: the pain of your undying desire.

He reached deeper inside of you than he ever dared to before, reaching reaching reaching to find your soul and bear all commitment to it. To serve you, as his gravelly voice whispered, “I fucking live for you.”

“I love you, Joel,” you responded. “It’s you and me. Forever. Us against the world.” A tear made its way from your eye to his forehead.

He kissed the trail the tear left and repeated you. “Us against the world.”

It was just sex talk — usually is, but Joel always knew what words would just make you fucking cum. Those words dripped from his lips like a poisonous honey for you to lap up and savor.

He wanted you cumming all over his sheets cock to fucking mean something. To permeate his love anywhere it could stain.

Joel had started to cum just a second before you did, forcing him to let out a moan. You held his head to your chest while he cradled your back.

Your head buzzed the same way it would when you got high, only it felt better. Quieter. More immersive. Your back arched into his touch and the rolling of his hips kept you in that limbo. Not here nor there. You were right where you needed to be, whatever that fucking meant.

You managed to keep quiet a little better than him, giggling softly when he just plopped down onto you after you had both come down.

He stayed like that for a few minutes while you just stroked the curls by his ear, his other one listening to your heartbeat slow down.

“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he cooed, and just as he finished dressing his phone began to ring. He just answered it as he walked to the bathroom, letting you rest some more. A few minutes later, he came back and wiped wherever you asked. “I gotta go help Tommy real quick with somethin’. W’ya stay here, keep an eye and ear out for Sarah?” He asked.

“Yeah, for sure. Be safe.”

You shared a kiss with him again before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Shit. 11:32 PM.

“Joel?” He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Happy Birthday,” you said with a smile.

“Thank you, princess.”

taglist: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeereaa (cant tag) @ssweetart42

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #tlou

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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

Text

Have I found you? 🥀

AU Twilight x Miguel O'Hara

Miguel Cullen x Reader Swan

Synopsis: inspired by the ending prom scene from the first Twilight movie. Title of the piece from the lyrics of the song Flightless Bird American Mouth by Iron and Wine. You're Y/N Swan and he's Miguel Cullen. You two steal away to have a discussion about your desire to be with him always, even if it means giving up your mortality. Word count 1.4k

TW: mostly fluff, maybe a somewhat toxic relationship dynamic because as we know Twilight relationships aren't exactly the ideal model of healthy relationships, aging, death, some angst, no mention of reader's gender

You look up at him in the cold, eyes pleading into his sullen expression, the condensation of your breath catching in the air while the air stays still around him. The juxtaposition of your mortality and his immortality. You start to shiver and he wraps his arms around you in response, but it's in vain. The wintry temperature from his skin can be felt through his suit jacket. He shrugs off the suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders instead.

The tension of your conversation is interrupted briefly by the sound of music. An accordion, guitar, and soft tambourine playing a slow, gentle song from a gazebo at the top of the hill where attendees of the Spring Solstice festival are slow dancing.

The touchy subject of you wanting to be with him was brought up again. Not wanting to have your lover's quarrel on display, but perhaps more the fact that he was a vampire known to everyone in town, he lead you by the arm away from the patio lights where you two could talk in private.

He gives a small smile when he hears the music.

"May I have this dance?"

"Don't change the subject."

Before you can protest further, he's swept you off your feet in one motion, landing your worn out converse and your medical walking boot on top of his dress shoes, not minding the bit of mud on them that came from the rain soaked grass.

Miguel looks smug at your annoyance as he starts to dance for both of you in a perfect waltz, not tearing those gorgeous scarlet eyes from yours. His expression gets even more smug when your cheeks become evidently hot as his grip on your waist tightens, causing your pelvises to press against one another.

"Not cool."

"You need to stop asking me to change you," Miguel replies cooly. "Can't we enjoy our night, just like this?

You stay silent, trying to pick your next words carefully.

"I just want to be like you...because we'll never have a chance of being together if I stay human. You're not going to be attracted to me when I'm old."

Miguel's brow furrows. "That's not true."

"But it is Miguel." Tears well in your eyes, sending a tight knob to your throat. "How could you torture me like that? Make me watch you stay young and beautiful while I get old and gray."

Miguel shakes his head, red irises boring into yours. "You say you want to be like me but you don't understand what you're asking me to do...you want me to rob you of your opportunity at a normal life. I'd be ending your life before it even started. Before you even had a chance to live...I'm already a monster, don't ask me to damn your soul too."

Your heart broke at his words, tormented by the fact that he truly saw being with him equal to being cursed.

"If you just let the venom spread when James bit me, I could've been like you right now."

The tears that brimmed your eyes can no longer contain themselves and roll onto your cheeks.

"You were going to die...I had to do whatever I could to save you," Miguel replies softly, bringing a cold hand to wipe away the tears that stained your cheeks. You shiver a little under his touch, and his eyes become apologetic at his startling of you.

"I'm dying right now! Every moment that I'm not like you, I grow older....closer to..."

You don't have to say the last word for him to understand you're referring to your inevitable end. The inescapable fate that awaits all mortals: death.

Miguel's heart doesn't beat, but he feels a surge in his chest that almost brings him back to the feeling of mortality again. The thought of burying you one day was unbearable. To watch you edge closer to the conclusion of your humanity would be painful, not to mention watching you suffer the ailments of aging, possibly forgetting him, and seeing you become increasingly uncomfortable would be devastating. Then, he'd be forced to dredge on in his neverending, monotonous existence. Doomed again to deprivation of all spirit and passion. The color in his world reduced back to gray in tandem with the color leaving your cheeks. He'd let hundreds, if not thousands of years pass him by knowing that you would never resurface.

Miguel sighs. His eyes are sad, yet show signs of yearning. What kind of man condemns his beloved to a life of a monster? A vampire. Whose very existence is blasphemous, a blatant mockery to the laws of nature whose jurisdiction it cheated its way out of. Who is a killer by its very design.

He'd cause you to be robbed of simple human experiences like the rich taste of freshly made desserts, the smells of a new destination, the satisfaction of lazy deep slumbers on Sunday afternoons, to be able to feel one's emotions rise in one's cheeks, the privilege of growing older beside one's love.

To be able to experience the blessing of living long enough to see the repercussions of the love you shared translated into generations below you, your children and grandchildren walking the Earth.

He's silent and just staring into you, a quiet cost-benefit analysis underway in his mind. Would you willingly, voluntarily giving all of those things up, be worth it, as long as he knew in his heart that you'd be his? He knows the answer. He's just afraid to jump.

Miguel's lip trembles, the humanity that laid dormant for centuries attempting to resurface.

"I want you to have every human experience. Even if it's not with me...but..." he sighs.

"I'm selfish enough to want it to be me." He brings your hand to his cheek.

You feel your love soar in your chest.

"I'm ready right now."

Miguel's lips part a little bit as he dips you gently backwards, holding the back of your head securely with one hand while the other is against your back, your hair sliding off your shoulders revealing your delicate neck and the tempting jugular vein running through it. He leans downwards, and you feel the very tip of his sharp fang graze your neck. You blink furiously then shut your eyes all together, bracing for the stinging pain you might have underestimated.

But instead, you feel his cold lips press a soft kiss against your neck and hold it there, drinking in your scent and warmth once more before he brings his gorgeous face to yours, your noses inches away from each other.

"Allow me to enjoy you like this just a little bit longer?" He begs softly, tracing your collarbone with his finger.

You exhale your defeat, and realize it's no longer about his doubts about whether he could really bring himself to end your mortality, but rather your mortality being the very cornerstone of what made him surrender his heart to you in the first place. It was simply his grief of letting that version of you die, despite his certainty that his love for you would never waver after the fact.

But, you know what you want. And even though he can't read your thoughts, you make sure he knows it too.

"For now..." you answer softly, the corner of your mouth turning up into one of those half smiles he adores so much. Miguel knew you would eventually ride into eternity with him. Your heart already sealed away in his hands, becoming a vampire tonight wasn't necessary to make it so.

Words escape him and so he decides to show you instead. He pulls you into a tender kiss. His lips soft under yours despite the coldness they contain as he snakes a hand into your hair, holding you against him as though your only purpose was to be in his arms. Holding you as though you'd break outside of his protective embrace. The Lion and the lamb.

For what feels like forever curtailed into several moments, your lips dance with one another, the music swelling into a crescendo, a perfect parallel of the love only growing stronger between you until the floodgates of your heart could no longer hold back the boundless ocean that only forever could contain.

Eternity would always await, but for now, this night belongs to you as you dance with Miguel. This passionate kiss under the stars proves it.

-----

🖤

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #fanfic #spotify #atsv miguel #twilight saga #miguel o'hara fluff #Spotify #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

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quinnylouhughesx43 · 1 month

Text

Peter

based off of Taylor Swift’s song from The Tortured Poets Department

warning: a bit sad, longing for ex-lover, use of y/n

Ethan Edwards x fem!Reader

summary: Ethan and reader childhood friends —> lovers —> break up —> reader heartbreakingly waiting for his return.

author’s note: the photos are intended to tell the story them growing up. the last last picture are two quotes from the book “better than the movies” by Lynn Painter. (can be found on Amazon, books a million, barnes & noble, etc. links were too long to post)

Ethan and (y/n)’s older childhood friends always joked the two would fall in love one day. It was always a big laugh between the two of you because what business do 8 year olds have thinking about love?

In a blink of an eye you’re dancing at your end of the year eighth grade formal together, your heart has never reacted the way it was at that specific moment. Confused and a bit scared you kept your head staring at the floor while your hands were firmly placed on Ethan’s shoulders. His hands placed awkwardly on your waist. He cleared throat and paused both of your movements. “Hey (y/n)? Can I do something and you promise you not get mad if you don’t like it? We can just forget about it after if it’s weird.” His words were rushed and hands shaking. Your eyes connected with his, a slight nod yes to confirm you were okay with whatever it was he was asking for. As if the world moved in slow motion and no one else was in the school’s lobby, where the formal was happening but the two of you, Ethan ducked his head down just the few inches he needed to in order to give a quick kiss.

The first kiss for both of you.

Awkward, yet not weird for either of you. The beginning of what turned into a long beautiful journey. Until it wasn’t beautiful.

꧁꧂

“(Y/N) I am so tired of this repetitive argument. It happens over and over. I got accepted to Michigan and I got a scholarship for hockey. Their program is notorious for building up their athletes and getting them drafted. Drafted! You’ve known since we were kids that the NHL is what I wanted for myself.” Ethan tried to keep himself composed until he couldn’t. His desire, compassion, and dedication to chasing his dream often overshadowed his love and dedication to you. His childish mannerisms peaking through. “I just want to know where I fit into this plan? This future of yours.” You tried to keep your voice strong and unwavering but just like each time before the lump in your throat prevented you from even being able to breathe properly.

He sat down on the edge of your bed. Quiet minutes passed before he finally spoke again. “Maybe there isn’t an us in the future..” His words are so quiet you aren’t sure if you heard him correctly. “E?” You whimpered. Tears streaming one after the other. He didn’t look at you right away. Knowing if he did his resolve would shatter.

Taking a deep breath, starting over. Looking at you after a couple minutes had passed by and leaning over to wipe your cheeks dry. “I know this is going to be hard to hear. It’s killing me to even say it. It killed me to even think about it recently. I’m going to be gone for a long time for school. I won’t be returning home. My parents will be coming there over the holidays. It will be easier with training. I can’t ask you to sit here while you’re going to school yourself and be tied to me. Especially when we will never see each other. Neither of us have the money for traveling to and from. I’ve been so physically sick thinking about leaving you. We’ve only argued since I decided but honey this is what’s best for me and my dreams. I’m sorry I’m being so selfish but I can’t pass this up. If I stay here I take a chance at never having an opportunity at the NHL at least I know I’ll have an opportunity there.” Your tears stopped at some point. Sadness turned to numbness. Lost to the words he was saying.

“(Y/N/N). I can go and grow up while I’m gone. Get drafted. Or not. Then I’ll come find you if you’re still single. . We can live our dreams then. I just can’t ask you to sit here and be miserably alone.” Pressing a quick kiss to your forehead he left your house. That was the last thing he said to you in person. You didn’t see him again before he left. He tried but you declined. Not wanting to hurt anymore than you already were.

꧁꧂

You just watched Ethan’s NHL debut with the New Jersey Devil two weeks ago. Pride swelled in your heart for him but heartbreak also overtook you. He never came back for you. You’re both 24 now, he could’ve come back after college since he was drafted pre-degree but he never did. Since ‘goodbye for now’ turned into ‘goodbye’ you sat down at your desk and started writing him a letter. You were going to mail it to his mom’s house. She can mail it to him.

Dear Ethan,

I hoped you'd return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned because love is never lost when perspective is earned and you said you would come and get me, but we were only 17. My shelf life on the fantasies has expired. Please forgive me, Ethan, I really tried to hold on to the days you were mine. But the young girl turned into a woman who sits by her window has turned out the light.

You said you were going to grow up and you were going to come find me. Promises that were oceans deep, but never to keep.

Sincerely,

(Y/N)

Little did you know he was back in town at his parents’ house and received the letter himself. He was there to see you. He was back for you now that he was settled and could care for you both properly. But he was too late. You had shut the door on him. You stopped supporting him quietly. Stopped following the scores of the games and watching. . Ethan played the rest of the season terribly, not having his number fan, supporter there. It didn’t matter if he knew or not that she was always cheering him on. It just solidified for him, he no longer had his rock. His reason for being. That he fucked up all those years ago. That he no longer had a reason for what he thought was his dream. His dream was really your dreams. He wanted the future you wanted with him and now he will never have it all because of his selfishness back at 17.

#ethan edwards #umich hockey #umich fic #umich imagine #y/n #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x y/n #Ethan Edwards fic #Ethan Edwards blurb #hockey fic #hockey blurb #cay writes #cays masterlist #nhl #new writers on tumblr #new jersey devils #nj devils #nj devils fic #hockey

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winter-dayz · 5 months

Text

Think of me?

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Brother's Best Friend Genre: Fluff; Smut (if you squint) Words: 1673 Warnings: strong language; sexual content (male masturbation)

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist: @soobin-chois

‘It’s gonna be fine. The worst that could happen is that he won’t notice me. Again. And I’ll just remain his best friend’s little sister forever.’

Totally fine.

You shook your head—putting any other self-deprecating thoughts away in a tiny, sealed box in your brain to be dealt with at your next therapy session—and entered.

Each year, your family hosted a Christmas party. It used to be small, contained to the immediate family. But then your brother and you got a little older, begged your parents to let you invite your friends. They allowed it, and invited some of their own friends too. Then other guests wanted to bring their families—parents of your friends and children of your parents’ friends started showing. Soon enough, it became a proper holiday celebration and couldn’t be held at your family home anymore. All of the adults started chipping in to rent space and have it catered. It became a celebration and reunion of sorts from then on.

You made your way through the decent-sized crowd, greeting friends and family as you went, until you found your own parents and brother standing around chatting.

“Hi honey!” Your mom cheered, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.

“Hi mom,” you smiled and glanced around, “The decorations look really nice this year. I like the red and gold theme.”

She beamed at the praise, motioning to your father, “Your dad picked out the main tree, and some of the others donated the smaller ones. We were going for something homier and warmer this year. People felt that the ‘White Christmas’ last year with all the white and silver was a little too sterile.”

You hummed, “Maybe if you do that theme again throw in gold? Like the song Silver and Gold… Or a nice royal blue if you want it to lean more–”

“Jackson!” Your brother shouted, interrupting your train of thought. Your head whipped around, following his line of sight.

Jackson, your brother’s lifelong best friend, was strolling over to your group. Soft, close-lipped smile on, eyes shining with happiness. He was dressed well, as usual, and had a Santa hat perched on bleach-blonde hair.

It was a different look than you had seen on him last, but you couldn’t deny you were really enjoying it.

‘You’ve got to get yourself together.’ You admonished yourself, tearing your eyes away and trying not to drool over your childhood crush.

Just the thought of him so close once again, though, had your eyes being pulled to him. As you caught another glance of him, you managed to catch his own eyes traveling the length of you.

‘I’m imagining things, right? Surely he didn’t just check me out? Right!?’

“Honey,” Your mom pulled you out of your thoughts, “can you bring yours?”

You hummed, wide-eyed as you refocused on the conversation around you. “What was that?”

“Your air mattress. Can you bring it for Jackson?”

“Why would I do that?”

Your brother looked at you with furrowed brows and said like it was obvious, “So he doesn’t have to sleep on the couch in the basement.”

“I didn’t realize you were coming to the cabin with us for Christmas?” You finally let your eyes flit back to Jackson. He was holding back a smirk in your direction already.

“Yeah, my parents are spending the holidays on a cruise. Didn’t really want to spend Christmas alone so your family is letting me stay with you.”

You felt your entire being tense. You weren’t trying to be defensive, even though you’re sure that’s how it comes off, but all that was running through your brain was getting through the holiday with the big fat crush you still had on your brother’s best friend.

“If you don’t want me to borrow your air mattress, it’s fine. The couch in the basement isn’t that bad.”

“No, no… It’s fine. I have to go back to my apartment and grab my bags after this anyway. I can bring it.”

Jackson’s subtle smirk split into a gentle smile, “I appreciate it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned a bit closer to you, “Between us, that couch is actually really awful. We should use it as kindling.” A bubble burst out of you, and Jackson’s small grin grew, brightening his face and causing his eyes to squint. “There’s that gorgeous smile.” You swore you heard him add on under his breath while you laughed.

🎄

“Hey loser,” your brother tossed a set of sheets onto you as you lounged on the sofa, watching a Christmas movie in the den. “Mom said to take those to Jackson downstairs.”

“And why can’t you do it?”

“I’m going to bed. You’re still up.”

You rolled your eyes as your brother headed towards where the upstairs loft was. You gathered up the sheets and made sure to grab an extra fleece throw, knowing how chilly the cabin basement could get in winter—regardless of how much work your dad put in to finish it and make it a nice guest suite.

Before you bounded down the creaky, wooden stairs, you called down softly, “Jacks?” You waited a moment, cold seeping in through your fuzzy socks, before heading down when you thought you heard him call your name back. “Hey, I brought you some sheets and a blanket since it can get… cold down… here…” You trailed off at the sight before you.

Jackson hadn’t been calling your name as an okay to come downstairs. No, instead, he was too busy moaning your name. His hand was wrapped around his cock, angry red and desperately weeping. Head thrown against the back of the couch, back arched as he bucked into his hand, and legs spread wide with his jeans unbuttoned and just barely pulled down to free himself.

‘He’s jerking himself off. To me? To me!? I shouldn’t be watching this. I shouldn’t be here.’ Your brain was malfunctioning. You knew you should just turn around, march back up those stairs, and come back down in a while with the blankets and sheets. But instead, your gaze darkened on the way he bit his lip to try to smother the louder groans, yet your name and swears still slipped through. Your eyes fluttered as you tracked a bead of sweat streak down his face. Your own mouth fell open, and you groaned at the way his hand flexed and gripped the couch, as if he could barely hold himself back.

Jackson froze, whipping around to find you standing there watching. He let out a sound, somewhere between a yelp and a whine. Embarrassment at having been caught colored his cheeks, neck, and ears.

You could feel that your grip on the sheets was white-knuckled and knew that your thighs were pressed together to release some of the pressure, but you simply cleared your throat and finally averted your eyes.

“I… Um, I br– brought the sheets for the air mattress.” You managed.

Jackson stared wide-eyed and panicked. He rushed to tuck himself away, fixing his hair and standing to take the sheets from you.

As he turned away to toss them onto the couch, he whispered into the awkward air, “I’m so sorry… You weren’t supposed to know… I’m just really sorry.”

“Know?” You flinched in confusion. ‘I’m not supposed to know what? That you masturbate to the thought of me?’ For once, you voiced your thoughts smoothly.

“Um, yeah…” Jackson looked ashamed.

“How… How long?”

His eyes darted to yours and quickly looked away, “Remember the Christmas party after you turned twenty-one?”

It was your turn to feel embarrassment wash over you. Of course you remembered that party. You had enjoyed one too many of your aunt’s famous Ho Ho Hot Cocoa… It was hot chocolate with more chocolate liqueur and peppermint schnapps than actual chocolate and milk.

You ended up nearly black out drunk, with only fuzzy memories of dancing with cousins and flirting with some friends of friends of friends. In fact, you were pretty sure you kissed someone…

“Oh my god!” Jackson rubbed a hand over his face, as you came to the same conclusion. “I kissed you!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry…”

That felt like a slap in the face. “What why? I’m the one who kissed you and then watched you… you know… without your permission. If anything, I’m sorry.”

“Because I enjoyed it…” Jackson hesitated, “I enjoyed both things if I’m honest.”

“Oh…” You breathed, mind blanking. “If… you liked me, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Your brother told me you’d never like me like that. ‘I’m like a big brother to you,’ were his exact words I think.”

“That fucking idiot!” You screeched, “I’m gonna kill him! I’ve had a crush on you since we were fucking kids, Jacks!”

“You– You… Really?”

“Yeah!”

Jackson burst into laughter, pulling you into his arms. He was a bit clammy, his cologne a bit tainted with the smell of his sweat, and yet, you really didn’t mind.

“Y/N…” He eventually whispered into the crown of your head, “I want you.”

“Oh?” You whispered back into his chest, desire coursing through you.

He pulled back quickly, “Not like that! I mean… Yes, like that too… But– Fuck, I’m fucking this up… I want to be with you. I want to take you on dates and kiss you and cuddle the shit out of you all the time. I want to show you off and come home to the same apartment—at least someday—and then pamper you and fall asleep in each other’s arms.”

You breathed out slowly, “I didn’t know you thought about stuff like that.”

“I never did before you.”

“Well damn, Jackson… What am I supposed to say to all that?” you giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around his waist.

“Say you’ll go out with me.”

“Okay,” you smiled, “on one little condition…” He hummed, and you pressed a kiss to his jawline. “Keep thinking of me like that.”

“I can do that forever, baby.”

#got7 #jackson wang #reader #jackson wang x reader #got7 x reader #fluff #smut #oneshot #ficmas

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

Hello! I absolutely love your work. You’re a fantastic writer. Is it possible for you to do something based a bit off of the song London Boy by Taylor Swift? If not I understand. I just feel there’s some cool way to tie it with Jamie Tartt. Sorry if it’s a bit of a generic request

ALRIGHTY gotta preface this, I actually hate this song 😂 Lyrics aren’t bad, but the like accent thing she does makes me die a little bit. BUT. I saw what you were going for (I think)! So here it is, I suffered through listening to this song bc you asked for a fic and I am nothing if not eager to please.

This is also a response to two other requests. So if that was you, ✌️😗 y’all were on the same page, congratulations. This is also my first song-based fic, although all of my works are (very, very loosely) based on songs. That’s why they have such insane titles😅 ANYWAY that’s enough talking from me. Enjoy!

i fancy you

i love my hometown as much as Motown, i love So-Cal

Richmond in London is very different from your hometown in Southern California. It’s colder, for one. And older. Things in California don’t have the same extended history as they do in England. You’re here visiting family for a couple months, although your cousins are trying to convince you to stay longer.

“What do you really have waiting for you in California?” Holland asks.

“Uh, the beach. Sun. Great Mexican food.” you respond.

Holland isn’t buying it. “When else are you going to be able to live here? We can help you get a job and all that, not a huge problem.”

Holland is very convincing. You decide to stay for a year, single year, and see what happens.

Holland is four years older than you, and has always been the cousin you’re closest to. You’ve had a long-standing bond since being the two eldest sisters in your family. Holland takes you to clubs and introduces you to her friends, including a Miss Keeley Jones who thinks you are “abso-fuckin-lutely adorable.”

“You have to bring her to a Richmond match, babes,” Keeley says. “Lots of fit footballers.” She winks.

You ask Keeley of she’s dating a footballer.

“Oh god no,” she shudders. “A coach.”

You don’t really see the difference.

saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent

It was a good match, even you can tell. The Richmond team played seamlessly, passing the ball back and forth without letting the other team even touch it. Their conductor of sorts, the one mediating the passes, was crazy. He never seemed to get tired, anticipating his teammates’ moves and those of the opposing team. It seemed like he was always five steps ahead of everyone. Holland notices you watching him and pokes Keeley.

“You like Jamie?” Keeley laughs. “Makes sense. Anyone with eyes likes him. He’s right fit, too. Good in bed, shit with feelings. Well, used to be. Still fucking cocky.”

That’s interesting. “You’ve been with him?” you ask.

Keeley gives you a 50/50 hand motion. “Sort of. Don’t really count it, do I? Was with him at his fucking worst. That’s why Roy fucking hates him.”

“He’s much better now,” Holland chimes in. “Something happened last season and he stopped being such a dick.”

“Holland!” you reproach, laughing. “That’s not nice!”

She and Keeley shrug. “It’s true though, innit?”

You don’t know if it is, because when you first see Jamie up close in the club later that night, he seems perfectly fine. You see a flash of a smile, a dimple, then he says something (you don’t know what) but his accent is… something else. It’s not like Holland’s, or any of your family, but you know enough to pinpoint it to Manchester.

“The accent got you, didn’t it?” says a voice near your ear and you yelp as Holland slides her arm around your shoulder.

“Gets the best of us,” says Keeley, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

She drags you over despite your protests.

he likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, ‘darling i fancy you’

Regular dinner dates are scary, but dinner dates with a Premier League footballer are downright terrifying.

You made Holland help you figure out what to wear, and when she showed up at your aunt’s house she had Keeley in tow.

“Heard you’re in need of a bit of a makeover,” she grins. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”

Keeley and Holland have brought some of Holland’s dresses and you’re in a dark green one that “does fucking wonders for your hair, babe.”

Keeley did your makeup while Holland curled your hair and just like that, you’re ready to go.

You groan, “God, I fucking hate first dates,” while shaking out your arms.

“It’ll be fine,” Holland promises, and she’s right.

It’s more than fine. It’s fucking fantastic.

“I like your smile,” Jamie says. “Fuckin’ American, it is.”

You laugh. “What does that even mean?”

Jamie shrugs. “It’s bigger. Brits are more reserved. Like Roy. You met Roy yet? Biggest fucking twat I ever saw,” but he says it with such affection that you’re sure he means something else.

His eyes are electric, blue and dazzling. They betray his every thought and feeling and right now you feel like if you hold his gaze any longer you’re going to say something completely stupid.

Turns out your not the one to say something stupid; he is.

You’re walking back to his car, holding hands and swinging them in between you when he stops and says, “Darling, I fancy you.”

You grin and he returns it. He asks, “Was that British enough for you? Feel like you got the whole experience?”

“Definitely,” you say. “Was I American enough for you?”

“Dunno,” he replies, “Got to test one more thing.”

His lips are very soft on yours.

met all of his best mates, so i guess all the rumors are true

“This is Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Sam.”

Jamie is introducing you to some of his team. You’ve been dating for a month now, and your first picture together just popped up in the papers the night before.

The boys of AFC Richmond were pretty sure Jamie was seeing someone, but they didn’t know who it was. Jamie had set up this dinner thing a while ago, it just so happened that the tabloids got to you first.

It’s not even that great a picture honestly, but you’d been around Nelson Road enough that the boys were able to recognize you.

It’s a little unnerving to meet them, what with Isaac’s intense stare and Dani’s wide, wide smile. You’re grateful Colin and Sam are acting normal.

“We have an American coach,” Colin says in an attempt to break the ice. It does, because you’re all laughing at the absurdity of his attempt.

“We have heard very much about you,” Dani says and you wonder if he ever stops smiling. It feels so weird and so normal to be at Jamie’s house with a pile of food and FIFA queued up on the TV, ready to go. You figure that if you’re meeting his friends, Jamie must be at least a little serious. He finds your hand and squeezes it under the table as Isaac cracks his first smile of the night. It’s weird dating a footballer, but you think you can get used to it.

babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

Jamie’s house is the largest you’ve ever been in, and it used to be strange that it was only just the two of you, clattering around that big home.

It’s a cool night after a warm day so you both decided to lay in his backyard under the stars.

It feels so much like something you’d do as a teenager, and you tell Jamie as much.

“Used to sneak on me mum’s roof,” he tells you. “Didn’t even do dumb shit, I’d just go to look.”

You lay there in silence for a few moments until you feel something tickle your side.

“Jamie!” you shriek.

“I didn’t do nothing!” he protests. “Must’ve been a bug.”

You don’t believe him, but you don’t push it until you feel another tickle.

“Babe!”

“Babe, it weren’t me, I swear,” he says and you really don’t believe him, especially when he tickles you again less than a minute later.

You laugh. “Fuck you, Jamie Tartt.”

He smirks. “Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Hm, maybe I want a good time.”

Jamie’s grin widens and he sits up. “You know where the bedroom is, love.”

you know i love a London boy

“I don’t fucking get it,” Jamie says. You shrug.

“I literally don’t either,” you say. Your dad leans over to Jamie. “So basically…” he begins.

He’s halfway through his explanation when Jamie pokes you. “Babe,” he says, “can we switch seats so I can hear your dad better?” You chuckle then wiggle your way into Jamie’s seat while he gets into yours.

“Why the fuck is it called ‘football’ if it’s with their hands?” Jamie asks.

Your dad shrugs. “Not a clue, son, not a clue.”

The game progresses and one of the teams scores a touchdown.

“Hold the fuck up,” Jamie says. “Why did their score change that much?”

“I know this one!” you exclaim. “Different types of goals get different points. And there’s something called a lateral which has to do with moving backward I think?”

You dad just shakes his head with a grin and doesn’t attempt to clarify.

Your dad spends the second half explaining everything to a very focused Jamie, and he asks questions the entire car ride home. It’s funny have Jamie here in America, staying at your parents house and seeing where you grew up.

When you’re finally back home and in bed, you pull him as close as you can and whisper, “I love you very, very much. You know that, right?”

You can feel Jamie smile against your hair. “I love you too, very fucking much.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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jocelynscrazyideas · 11 days

Text

Summer lakehouse- Arrival | Quinn Hughes x Reader

Summary: this episode reads… Zoey, Trevor’s twin sister and Trevor Zegras go on a roadtrip to Michigan to the Hughes Home. Summer is calling!! And so is love.

Warnings: language? Not proof read.

A:N- this is the kickoff to the series!!! Also sorry to mention but Trevor’s actual sibling don’t exist in this story (sorry!)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Zoey!” Trevor calls for me from my kitchen. Trevor and I are at my house in Minnesota. I’m currently upstairs getting packed for our trip to Michigan. Normally, Trevor would fly out to Michigan and I would be left at home.

Trevor, my older brother, only by 7 minutes has been super successful in his hockey career. He had just suffered in an injury so lately, Trevor has had time to check up on me, especially since I had just went through a breakup with a relationship that lasted about three years. I live in Minnesota, Trevor is in Anaheim, and our parents moved back into New York. I feel so special being able to literally be going to Michigan with The HUGHES brothers. I’ve known Jack for a long time, but I have never really considered us friends. I only talk to Jack because he’s Trevor’s bestfriend.

“Are you coming?” Trev bellows out for me again.

“Yes! Just calm down and eat an apple.” I yell back from upstairs in my room.

“Incoming!” I exclaim cautiously chucking my bags down the stairs. Trevor runs under the botttom of the stairs and catches my bags. I packed about three bags knowing I’ll be in Michigan for half the summer.

“Okay give me your keys.” Trevor motions for my pocket. “Um.. now.” Trevor barks back at my nasty stare.

“No! I’m driving.” I look him up and down, I pick up one of three bags and throw it at his chest.

“ZEGRAS IS DOWN!! ZEGRAS IS DOWN!!” Trevor screams out flailing his arms as if he’s trappped under my bags. I grab one and throw it into my car. I run inside and grab my other two and throw those into the car. I hurry to my side of the car and notice that Trevor isn’t outside. I unlock the car, knowing he may be tricking me and he could steal the drivers seat.

“Fine.” Trevor murmured in defeat as he walks out f the house. He gets in the passenger seat and he turns in the radio.

Perfect.

Umbrella by Queen Rihanna is on.

I open our windows as we are still driving in to town towards the nearest highway.

“Can we stop for some drinks and food?” Trevor, being a former big back asks.

“Yeah sure, you’re paying.” I say as I’m still locked in into one of the best songs ever.

We pull into Starbucks as he orders for me and him. We wait for 15 minutes, and my dragon fruit lemonade refresher comes out followed by Trevor’s black coffee and his cake pops.

“You know this song is going to be your summer.” Trev indicates as we approach the freeway.

“No, I’m going to have fun thi summer, and having fun is being single.” I say trying to get rid of the conversation.

“Well yeah never mind you’re still a virgin.”

“Trevor shut the fuck up. You can’t keep your girlfriends! You scare them off!” I say yelling back at him. Yes, I have lost my virginity, but I haven’t had sex in like 8 months. Which is normal.

We make it to Wisconsin and we stop at a rest place, I use the bathroom, Trevor goes to throw our trash away. “You know I’m serious. You could get a boyfriend this summer. Quinn throws seriously cool parties.” Trevor still not letting this go.

“No, I just got out of a healthy relationship, and I’m still hurt.” I explain, trying to give him signals.

“Good. You can get a rebound. I mean You’ve met Jack. Michigan men are hot.” Trevor goes on and on about me and the idea of “hot men”.

I drive for another four hours and we stop at another rest place. I get out of the car and stretch my legs and start to walk into the buildings for the bathrooms. I get some water, grab a few snacks and head back to the car. Trevor and I switch seats, and he drives really scary.

Trevor swerved in front of a deer. I punched Trevor in his right bicep, and he winced. He looks over at me and he drives off. He throws his phone at me telling me to turn on some music.

“Why do you get aux?” I reply in a snap.

“Well you get to pick the playlist that’s on MY Spotify.” Trevor sassed back.

Whatever.

I press on his “lover girl/wedding vibes” playlist. Interesting.

“What’s this?” I say as I laugh. I know Trevor was hurt when I told him he’s the reason he can’t keep a girlfriend. I felt terrible.

“WHAT IF HES WRITING MINE ON MY UPPER THIGH.. ONLY IN MY MINDD!” Trevor breaks out into song. And I follow.

“Taylor the woman you are.” I say as I hold trevs hand. We make it to Michigan. We both pulled all jighters.

“10 hour drives aren’t for the weak.” Trevor says as he pulls over into a parking lot. We switch seats once more. Trevor puts the Hughes address in my google maps. I turn in the aux and play Lovers by Anna of the North. So teenage girl coded. I back into the driveway, and I knock on Trevor’s head.

“Wake up.” I whisper trying to get him up but still he quiet for those around us in the block.

“Mhm” Trevor moans out in a sleeping bliss.

“Zegras?” Quinn says as he walks out of the newly renovated home.

“Oh yeah! Hey buddy!” Trevor instantly gets up and opens the trunk. Quinn helps us bring our stuff into the house. I get my own room, for now.

“So Trevor I didn’t know your twin sister was like super hot.” Quinn mumbles to Trevor.

“Uh, yeah she’s hot.” Trevor looks over at me and winks.

“Yeah she is! And she’s mine!” Jack says as he run into me and grabs my bags before I get the chance to.

“Hurry up! It’s cold.” Luke says. Luke’s hanging half way in the door way and half way out. He held the door for us and he walks me to my room.

“So you jack know eachother?” Luke mentions. Luke is 6”3, really tall, like taller than Trevor. I’m 5”2 and on a good day I’m 7”.

“Yeah, but only through Trev.” I respond, Luke seems so chill. I think out of all of the Hughes, I’d get along with Luke the best.

“Chill. I’m glad you could come this summer!” Jack says. I’ve never thought me and Jack were so buddy buddy, but I guess we are.

“So I’ll wake you up in the morning, so we can go down to the beach, and buy some avacodoes from the store. I know you like avocado toast!” Jack hypes up. We past their parents rooms and I settled into my bed.

Now that I mention it. Jack and I are actually best friends. Trevor met jacks through me when I told Trevor to tryout for USNTDP U18 because I knew the captain. It’s been years since me and Jack talked, I mean Jack and Trevor hang out, but it’s not me and Jack going on walks everyday.

I can’t believe I forgot Jack and I’s friendship. I feel terrible. Jack was the only person who really knew me for me.

I go to bed and I dream about nothing. Mind is empty. Except…

I’m thinking of how Wuinn called me hot. Maybe Trevor was right, maybe I could find a love this summer.

I wake up to knocking on my door, last night before I fell asleep I put all of my clothes and shoes away, I unpacked my hygiene stuff into my bathroom.

“Hey? Are you wake?” I hear from behind my door. I can’t decipher the voice but I know it’s not Trevor.

I get out of my bed and unwrinkls my bed sheets. I slide my slippers on and walk over to the door. “Hello?” I whisper. “What time is it?” I ask as I look up to the owner of the mysterious voice.

“Yeah. Sorry for waking you up.” Quinn apologizes to me, he grabs my wrist and pulls me out of my room. My door shuts behind me, Quinn pulls me down the stairs and I’m following the tall man all the way to his car.

“Jack told me to take you to get avacidos.” Quinn told me as he opens his car door for me. “It’s like 5:30.” I told Quinn. Just making sure he knows it’s way too early to buy avocados for breakfast. Especially in the summer.

“I’m aware. But if you wanted to go sneak out like Jack and Z told me, then this is the time. Besides, I know a sport downtown.” Quinn backs out of the neighborhood and he drives off to a small shop. Some farmers markets are open so we buy organic avocados, four of them.

“You like the ocean?” Quinn asks me. He places a blanket on the sandy stone. We sit on a cliff on top of a lake.

“Yeah, you?” I respond. I wonder if Jack and Trevor put him up to this. Or if Quinn genuinely thought of taking me.

“Uh- yeah no I love the lakes here in Michigan. I hear you’re from Minnesota, the place of 10,000 lakes.” Quinn mocks the Minnesotan accent.

“Yeah I mean it’s nice, especially during the summer because of the weather, but during the winter there the lakes are fun to skate on, and I have friends who ice fish- it’s really easy to have fun in Minnesota.” I explained, I look at Quinn and he’s staring into my eyes. It’s like he’s reading me.

“Yeah? Maybe I should drive back with you and Z.”

“You should, Trevor loves to annoy me.”

“Well he told me most of the stuff you’ve been through before this.”

“Like what? My breakup?” I say as I turn my head towards the lake instead.

“Maybe we should head home, it’s been a couple of hours since we left.” Quinn excused out conversation, knowing I was offended.

We got home around 8:41- about three hours since we left to get avocados. I bring in my favorite ingredient, and Quinn opens the door for me.

I set the avocados on the counter and I head to my room. “Zoey!” Quinn runs up the stairs after me.

“Sorry for getting in your biz.” Quinn apologized to me, he must truly care.

Jack comes down from his room and makes us our avocado toast that he promised us.

We went boating and I tanned on the deck while the guys barbecued and grilled some burgers.

#jocelynscrazyideas #hockey #nhl #umich hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes #umich #new jersey devils #luke hughes #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #hockey blurb #trevor zegras #anaheim ducks #michigan #road trip #summer #love interest #🍇🍇🍇

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vgilantee · 1 year

Text

dear devoted delicate {xavier thorpe}

xavier thorpe x reader

requested: by my beloved julie @websterss <3

words: 2.2k

a/n: the reader is an outcast of an unknown type, but not a werewolf. i love werewolves, but because of some of the setup, it's gotta be a non-werewolf reader. also i went a little off-prompt but it's still the same in essence, and all the important bits are included, just shuffled up a little. oh and yes the title is a line from the song older, but i used it mostly because dear is a sweet petname, and butterflies have delicate wings. i think i'm clever. oh and if you're new here, i hate writing dialogue and it shows in this also if you want to see some really cool drawings of poisonous plants, send me an ask (please) because one of my favourite things ever are vintage botanical drawings (this will make sense in a minute dw)

warnings: n/a. just some sweetness. there is swearing though so idk if that counts as a warning

pronouns: she/her (maybe she/they? i can't remember if i threw in a 'they' lmao)

Once a month - sometimes twice if you were incredibly unlucky - you were kicked out of your room for two days while your roommate had a handful of her younger cousins over.

Before Nevermore, you loved the full moon. Now you had a love-hate relationship. You still loved the moon itself, but you never enjoyed showing up at your friend’s dorm, backpack over your shoulder and sleeping bag tucked under your arm, sheepishly asking if you could once again sleep on their floor. You could, in theory, go back to your room to sleep as your roommate and cousins wouldn’t be there, instead transformed into wolves and galavanting around the woods. But in your second month at Nevermore, you did that, and woke up to a room full of the less-than-dressed human werewolves, some of whom had chosen your bed to curl up on, with you still in it. Never again.

Full moons on the weekend were the worst. With no classes to occupy your time, you often found yourself moving from place to place around campus to find somewhere you could hide out before getting bored and moving on.

Xavier watched as you jogged past the archery field, headphones in and running shoes muddied. It wasn’t unusual to see you go past during club practice, though you tended to avoid it after a downpour. He’d asked you about it once, after seeing you in the library one rainy Saturday afternoon.

“My room already smells like wet dog at the best of times, I’m not going to add to that.” Your voice was light with humour; you adored Sofi and she always made sure to not bring in any smells with her. But the comment stuck with Xavier and the next time you were sat next to each other in Torture through History, he sketched out a wolf before moving his hand to bring it out of the page. You giggled quietly as the ashen wolf shook itself, small flecks mimicking water coming off, then curled up next to your hand. You had smiled down at it fondly as it fell asleep before dissolving into charcoal dust, leaving a light smudge on your hand. Xavier watched you and pretended not to notice the warmth that came to his face as you looked up at him, the fond look still in your eyes.

“Xavier, are you going to take your shot? Or you just going to keep staring at ‘em?” He shot up a middle finger over his shoulder before turning to follow its movement to see his club mates smirking over at him.

After ducking into Ash’s room to change into more comfortable clothes, you make your way down to the library. Ash was generally the most reliable for having space on their floor for you to crash, the thin roll-out mattress a permanent feature in the beanbag corner of the dorm.

On your way, you detour to your room to kick your muddy runners under your bed, though not before making an ‘I’m watching you’ motion toward a curled-up Sofi with a smile.

It wasn’t uncommon for couples to be hidden away in the library, especially not on an overcast weekend. But the Grimmstone library was the only library on campus that held an original copy of an 1800s toxic botany encyclopaedia.

After a few false turns with quick apologies to the interrupted couples, you finally found the right - and luckily empty - aisle. With your forefinger running gently along the worn spines, you made your way down the rows of books, glancing at the names of authors until you found the one you were looking for.

After carefully sliding the hardcover book off the shelf - nearly dropping it as the loose plastic dust cover slipped - you sat down at one of the desks lining the centre of the room and began flicking through. You flicked the book to the back, finger running down the yellowed page until you reached the name you were looking for: aconitum.

----

“Big scary werewolf and you’re afraid of a little butterfly?” You laughed as you wandered into Plant Toxicology with Sofi.

“It flew right into my face!” She waved her free hand in front of her, mimicking the butterfly’s movements.

“And you squealed!” As you laughed, Sofi gently hip-checked you, nudging you toward your usual desk, before laughing with a shake of her head and walking toward her own. You nodded hello to Yoko as you sat beside her.

“Alight, class. Group paper time.” The sounds of groans and heads hitting tables bounced around the room. “I know, I know. Now, rows one and three, turn around and give a little wave to your partner.”

----

You were hours early to meet your study buddy, but it was a non-issue. The time alone allowed you to make meticulous notes on the plant before worrying about formatting them into a presentable paper.

The notes you made were messy, quick dot points from the encyclopaedia that could make into a decent assessment. The paper was only short anyway, the first report of the semester that was more of a benchmark than a large percentage of your grade.

Headphones in, it wasn’t long until you found yourself with your feet up on the seat and book resting open on your thighs, reaching around your bent knees to occasionally take notes.

You were in the middle of triple-checking the spelling of a latin nomenclature when a flit of grey out the corner of your eye caught your attention. But as you turned your head to see what it was, all you could see was another couple darting down an aisle, whispering to each other. You shook your head with an amused exhale before turning back to your note-taking.

Just as you leaned forward to take a note, you saw the grey again. But this time, instead of a moment at the side of your vision, the grey moved in front of you just long enough to make out the shape of a butterfly before it landed on the tip of your nose.

Cross-eyed to stare at the charcoal insect, you pulled out the headphones slowly, trying not to disturb it. You knew it wasn’t real, recognising the trademark sketch lines of Xavier’s art.

Another pair of butterflies began to flutter in front of you, bouncing off of each other with tiny plumes of dust. You let out a small giggle and the bug on your nose darted away, flying right into the other two where all three of them exploded into a shower of dark powder onto the desk. Once the last of the dust landed, you turned quickly to look over your shoulders, dropping your feet to the floor, trying to find the artist.

You met Xavier’s eye as he folded his sketchbook closed in his right hand. His head was tilted with a smile as he made his way toward you, backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Howdy, howdy partner.” You wriggled your fingers to wave as he pulled out the chair beside you, dropping down and letting his bag fall to the floor. As he did, you noticed that Xavier’s pulled-back hair was a messy damp, the kind that comes with being caught in the rain.

“Started the fun without me.” He gestured lazily to your notebook and the two thick library books in front of you (at some point during your research you wandered back to the shelf and found a second book with information on the deadly plant).

“Wanted to make you jealous, of course.” You shot him a wink with a small giggle, turning back to your book just in time to miss the tips of Xavier’s ears go pink. “The butterflies were definitely a welcome distraction though,” you thanked, turning in your chair to face him fully, “I felt like I was going cross-eyed staring at these pages.”

“I’m happy to distract.” Xavier sent you a dopey smile and raised one hand to flatten down flyaways, and you bit the inside of your lip while ignoring the warmth that grew on your face. In your attempt to break eye-contact and hopefully get rid of the blush, your gaze flicked down to his mouth and caught him licking his lips.

Almost in sync, you and Xavier looked away from each other and as you looked over at the textbook, you heard him clear his throat.

“Okay, so,” Xavier broke the silence after a moment, “what have you got so far?”

You quickly delved into giving him a rundown of the notes you had made so far, explaining ideas you had come up with for it. However, you made a point of not looking up at him. It was a little awkward at times, where you would catch yourself beginning to look at him but quickly found a drawing of the purple flower far too important to not look over at.

Neither of you noticed that the sun had set until the howls of classmates made their way from this distance, the sound causing both of you to turn and look out the window.

“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it had gotten.” During the week, there was an 8pm curfew, but over the weekend library hours were extended and they were a little more lenient with the time you had to be back at your dorm giving you until midnight to be back. There was just one downside to being in the library late.

“Oh my god we missed dinner.” Xavier sounded devastated at the realisation, and you looked over to see him with the back of his hand pressed dramatically to his forehead.

“You hungry?” It wasn’t long past dinnertime, but because of the routine that came with living at Nevermore, you knew the answer would be yes. “I may or may not have some snacks hidden in my dorm.” He perked up, and though he would never tell, he was more than a little excited to be spending more time alone with you.

---

Xavier sat awkwardly on your bed as you kicked off your shoes and began to pull a box out from under your bed. Pushing some heavy clothing out of the way, you pulled out a bag of chips and a couple of packets of sweets.

“It’s not really a dinner, but it’s food.” You showed him the food you had stashed, offering it weakly. Xavier scooched himself onto the floor, patting the space beside him and you sat yourself down cross-legged.

As Xavier pulled open the chip bag, you sent Ash a message saying you might be over late, but would try to be as quiet as possible. They sent back a thumbs up, and you shoved away your phone just in time for the chips to be held out in front of you.

Between the sweets and bag of chips, you and Xavier managed to talk about anything that came to mind as time quickly moved by. During your time, both of you got more relaxed, losing any vague semblance of good posture and leaned against the side of your bed. And maybe closer to each other, but only maybe.

Xavier pulled his sketchbook out of his backpack and leaned forward, listening to you talk as he drew. He hid his sketchbook from you as you tried leaning over him, giggling into his ear as you did.

You let your body flop onto the ground beside him, staring up leaning on your hand as he readjusted how he was sitting to keep hiding what he was drawing from you. Then he tucked his pencil behind his ear and held his hand above the page.

Lifting up with a rain of dust, a dozen small butterflies began to flit around your room. They bounced off each other, spinning in circles as they danced.

Much like the interruption of howls earlier in the evening, you are brought back into reality by the buzzing of your phone against the hardwood floor.

“I don’t mean to stop you from whatever you’re doing,” Ash skipped the greeting as you answer the call, “but if you’re sleeping here tonight you might want to think about showing up soon.”

“Hello to you too.” Sitting up properly, you watched Xavier as he turned on his phone screen and showed you the time, and you widened your eyes. “Oh fuck. Okay, thanks, Ash. Be there soon.” Xavier stood first, offering you a hand to pull you up which you happily took pretending not to notice the way he squeezed your hand shortly when you stood.

“I can walk you over if you want.” You were already shaking your head at the offer, knowing that you would be cutting it thin getting to Ash’s dorm and Xavier’s dorm house was in the opposite direction.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble.” He held the door open for you, leaning on the outer frame. As he pulled it shut his arm brushed your side.

There was a beat of silence as neither of you wanted to move. Although you had spent the night hanging out, the softness in that moment was different and not something you wanted to break.

Steeling yourself for a moment, you darted forward and kissed Xavier on the cheek, turning and beginning to walk away before you could see how he reacted.

Xavier watched as you moved quickly away, his cheeks and ears pink, He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to figure out how to react. Once you disappeared around the corner, he let out a breath and sheepishly smiled to himself.

comments and reblogs are appreciated! as are asks about the fic!

rambles, feel free to ignore: this fic isn't… okay so i hold myself to very high standards which is a problem with my brain and things, and i need to stop doing that because i end up giving up on things that aren't perfect instead of appreciating that i have made something and it's mine and from my brain. again, a problem i need to sort out. but all this being said!! by my self-imposed standards this isn't amazing, and really i'm posting it as a "here! it's done! take it before i take it back and destroy it!" and that's only happening because it was a request from a mutual.

tl;dr: these rambles are more to say that i like this fic, and i'm happy enough with it, but my standards are so high that i don't think it's good enough. which is a common thing with creatives and just know that what you make is good because it's yours and you made it, and that's all that matters!

#char rambles #char writes #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x y/n #reader insert fic #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe blurb #char's mutuals #˚:✧｡• julie #xavier thorpe reader insert

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itsgrimeytime · 2 months

Text

Magnolia in May (Part Thirty Three) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Parts 1-20, 21-30, 31, 32...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker @misatmosfear @crazyunsexycool

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TW: a little bit of happy crying.

[[A/N: girl let's tie up some loose ends!!! Thanks for reading !!! ]]

You were silently doing some of the chores around the house -day relatively passive, nothing of note. It was these kinds of days you enjoyed most, where you could simply exist, busy yourself to an extent.

So, you were doing a mix of things -at the current moment, you were hanging clothes to dry. Dress bellowing in the wind, it felt quite nice on your skin. You'd chance to later go on a walk. To where you weren't sure, but you were quite certain you'd end up at the Grimes Estate. Always did.

The chirps of birds and rustle of wind filling your ears, you were quite at peace then. Pinning up dresses and towels and father's shirts, you found comfort in the monotony. Motions fluid and practiced, a little bit like dancing.

Though, you would admit dancing was much more fun than such a chore.

Your mind lit up with balls, with music. Twirling dance partners of all sorts, you had danced with quite a few types of people. Being the eldest, everyone often asked for a dance, and being the eldest, you rarely refused.

Plus, it was quite fun dancing with all kinds of people -older, younger, richer, poorer. All types of people danced differently, and you had dabbled in quite a few. Some were funnier than others, and some were not quite as... exciting. Those were the worst, the boring ones.

Maggie quite believed that those with the least skills were the worst. But you heartily disagreed, they (in the right circumstances) can be quite fun. You'd always find something to laugh about later if a man had danced oddly. The worst ones were those with no flair, no talking, no joy.

Their technique could be flawless, each step in time, but it wouldn't be a good dance. Part of the event of dancing was the chatter, the laughter, the joyous swings with the music. Without that, the movements were rather bland and experience monotone.

You'd much rather dance with someone of lesser quality.

You supposed now though, you didn't have to worry about dancing with others. Betrothed, you had quite the built-in dance partner.

Dances with Mr. Grimes were a tedious balance, his movements fluid and practiced and the banter wonderfully produced. It was exciting, not only to be near such a man you held so dearly but to dance with someone as well socialized as himself.

He was clever, witty, and wonderful-

Perhaps, you were a little biased in retrospect. But you did truly believe that dancing with Mr. Grimes had to be one of the delights of your life. To keep such conversations going and move so eloquently to the music, was special. You were glad to be on the receiving end of it.

Although, you were quite certain that Mr. Grimes would say you were the one with such characteristics. As he always did.

"Y/N, darling," Headmistress called out, "-come here, will you?"

Grabbing the empty basket, you waltzed back up to the door -head filled with wonderous sorts of songs and the image of dancing with Mr. Grimes. You were quite smiley, as Maggie would say.

You hummed, placing the basket where it usually stayed -fidgetting with some leftover cloth, "What is it you needed, ma'am?"

Headmistress didn't say anything.

You pursed your lips, turning to face her -curiosity blooming through your chest. What your eyes met was simply not expected.

Headmistress stood there, hand outstretched with a stack of paper -you recognized the ivory. Her dress was crinkled and hair mussed, she looked quite worse for wear -there was a question on the tip of your tongue.

"I finally decided to read them, my dear," she swallowed and you could hear the clog of her nose -the redness of her cheeks to match.

With a start, you realized what she held -the letters, the invitations, from oh so long ago. Something in you had forgotten you'd given them to her to read, desperate for her to understand and forgive Mr. Grimes.

You with ease pulled the papers from her hands -fingers gently carding through them. It was such a mix of emotions to be holding them again -it brought you back to such a place of uncertainty but also at the very beginning of something so wonderful.

She sniffled, dabbing at her eye with a handkerchief, "I couldn't quite do it, at first, all that time ago. All I felt was guilt, and I believed reading these would only further that."

You merely looked at her -watching.

"I cannot express how sorry I am for my misdeeds, and though I do believe you have already forgiven me," she sighed, her voice cracked only slightly, "-I humbly ask for your forgiveness."

"Headmistress-"

"I was holding something so wonderful back from one of my own," she cried, breath biting through her lungs, "-I do not believe I can forgive myself, but I do ask you to. If you have not already."

"Headmistress," you tried to interject.

"If such a thing had ended in heartbreak," she continued, "-I would've certainly never forgiven myself. I hope you know-"

"Headmistress," you stressed, running your hands down her arms, smiling, "-please do not cry. I have long forgiven you."

She seemed to settle slightly then, something heavy lifting from her shoulders; you wondered how long she'd carried such a thing, briefly. You slid your hands down to grab hers, comforting.

"And I urge you not to think of such possibilities," you squeezed her hands, "-Mr. Grimes told me that there was no limit to his affections, and he would have waited forever had I asked him to."

Headmistress was tearing up again, but you felt that this time her reasoning was much different.

"So, even if you had postponed my reaction longer than it was," you explained, "-it is my belief that the outcome would not change."

"Oh," she laughed -a little weepy, "-the man does love you so, doesn't he?"

"Very much," you smiled, "-And I like to believe I love him just the same."

"Oh, my darling girl," Headmistress sighed, hand smoothing over your cheek, "-you are to be married so soon, and to a wonderful man, no doubt."

You leaned into her hand, watching as her eyes began to wetten, and her smile smooth across her lips -something passing through her eyes, "I shall say that I'm rather proud of you."

Your eyes began to fog up then.

"It is with no doubt that the man fell in love with just you," she echoed, rubbing her fingers along your face -looking at you like she could still see you as a child but it was now shifting, "-you need no training to be such a person. It was only a matter of time, really-"

You laughed, "Headmistress-"

"No, truly!" She hummed, a bit joyfully, "-Had you not met Mr. Grimes at the market, I'm sure you would have elsewhere. Either by mine own hand, or just within Alexandria. I believe it destiny that he loves you."

"Headmistress," you spoke, softly.

"No man loves as powerful as he does without such a reason."

It was an idea that you had been familiar with, one that Mr. Grimes had many a times expressed. He seemed ever convinced of it, that your souls were intertwined. That you were the superior one, and he was made as a compliment.

"Seeing you for the first time felt like everythin' in my life shifted, I found ya. You must understand, I was made for you."

"You existed, and the world built me off of ya. I, by some grace of God, found you."

You weren't sure you quite agreed, Rick Grimes was anything but inferior, but the sentiment was all the same. Made for each other.

You often thought back to the day you met him and the feelings therein. Sure, they were surprisingly new and you'd been drawn to him quite quickly. Something of a new, handsome presence you had never quite seen. Always wondering why Judith had chosen you of everyone within the market if it was, in fact, an act of destiny.

There was always the opinion that she saw your berries, to be frank. Or maybe you just looked safe, kind, you did get that a little bit from onlookers.

But there was something in you that said even without Judith, he would have found you.

Perhaps he would've brushed into you, stopping to apologize or maybe you'd drop something after running through the shops (lord knows your hands were often full) and he'd pick it up. There was just the rightness of you and Mr. Grimes as if your souls had been matched -crafted expertly by God.

"I may agree with you, Headmistress," you finally replied.

"You should agree with me," she spoke -frankly, "-you could ask for the most rare sort of gem and I'm certain he'd cross the ocean to find it."

That was the thing, there were no limits for Mr. Grimes, but you wouldn't ask him to pursue them. You were perfectly happy within your the life you lived, whether that was with Mr. Grimes or without.

Though without him, something would certainly feel as though it was missing.

A man willing to go as far as necessary, and a woman who only really needs him by her side. It was an odd sort of match, but you supposed anyone who asked him to reach such bounds would be rather exploitative.

Perhaps the kind that only chase the money.

You were nothing of the kind.

"You know I would not ask him to," you laughed in response, "-I'm perfectly happy with what he gifts me here."

Headmistress's eyes trailed to your basket, poised carefully on the kitchen counter, "He does give you quite quality gifts, does he not?"

You absent-mindedly trailed to it as well, eyes lingering on it -thinking back to that day with a fond smile, "He's quite mischievous in that way, all such expensive gifts are done without my knowledge, so I can't refuse them."

"Would you?" She asked curiously, "-If given the option, would you refuse them?"

You pursed your lips for a moment, thinking about such an idea. Suppose the lavender dress, had he made it personally for you under different circumstances, would you accept it? Or the basket? Or the portrait?

"I suppose not," you remarked -thoughtfully, "-He does it out of his affections, and I believe it an extension of them. I would be daft to refuse such a thing."

"So why do you refuse them, darling?"

"I... I don't know," you hummed, thinking to yourself, "-I'd guess it was something of a confidence issue. I value myself much under what Mr. Grimes tends to give me. Or-"

Headmistress listened very carefully, for once.

"Or I did," you corrected, "-I'm working on such things now. Valuing myself properly, perhaps not as high as Mr. Grimes does-"

"Oh, you'd surely believe you were god," she retorted -pompously, "-I cannot imagine anything quite higher than you in his mind."

You laughed, eyes dropping toward the table by the wall -where the letters lay. You'd set them there in your urge to calm Headmistress. Eyes lingering along each fold and expansive of ivory, your fingers reach out again and you pull them toward your chest.

And on the off chance you don't understand what I mean, I ask, from the depths of my heart, don't leave Alexandria.

Written through all of this was his very own heart extended to you, like an offering. Something so personal, vulnerable, in every single word, you remember the feeling once you realized that.

The realization that you were wrong, that it was an assumption, that he quite possibly wanted you. Did want you, if his words were to be believed. And you believed them.

I fear if I cannot explain it now then, she may never know. And I truly don't wish for it to end this way, or for it to end at all.

I will not stop trying. I can't.

And I ask that you honor that and tell your sister I am still fighting, that I have not run away. Please.

You swallowed, eyes just a little misty. It was the last letter, the one addressed to you, that you held in your hands. Your eyes flickered through the words, reading briskly. It all rang familiar.

My head is a mess as it is, but I find something clears it all when I think about you. I've never been more certain about you. I suppose I'm just afraid I don't know if you are as certain as you once were. I want you to be. I need you to be.

You smiled, a little bittersweet. Your fingers gently rubbed against the ivory -holding it like a prized possession.

You supposed it was.

"I shall intend to keep these," you hummed, briefly flickering over every written word -mindlessly you rubbed at your nose, "-They are quite emotional, but..."

Headmistress's hand found itself on your shoulder, squeezing once solidly. She roamed to your side -reading over your shoulder.

"That one," she said, a little wistfully, "'s rather desperate. A man of his status does not beg, but-"

Your fingertips traced over the ink, absent-mindedly imagining the scratch of his quill. His composure, or what you believed it to be. Was he crying? Was he desolate, desperate as she said?

"-he begged for you."

"Yes," you hummed, biting at your lip -the tears bubbling up your throat (it felt a bit like the first time you'd heard Mr. Grimes wanted to marry you, deliriously happy), "-Yes, he did. Didn't he?"

She laughed, a little weepy too -happy in her own right, "You've got quite the man in the works, my dear."

"I know," you laughed out, placing the letters back onto the table -spinning to her with a smile beyond comprehension, "-I know, Headmistress. Oh, it's just so-"

The bell in town rung, clearing through your head -you stilled.

"Is that the bell? Truly?"

Headmistress nodded -a confused look crossing her face.

"My final dress fitting!" You nearly exclaimed -eyes darting across the space in front of you, "-Oh, I need the carriage if I'm to be on time now."

"Hershel, dear," Headmistress called out, and you could faintly hear his response, "-We need the carriage, immediately. Call for it, will you?"

You had a spare thought, staring at the pile. Suppose you brought them, and after, talked to Mr. Grimes about them. It might answer some of your questions, and there was something in you that wished him to know how you'd read them -if it was the same as how he intended.

You blew a huff through your nose, grabbing your basket off the counter and piling the paper into it.

And with that, you scampered out the door and into the carriage -at the urge of the Headmistress. Without so much as an extra thought, she tumbled in beside you -speaking quickly to the driver.

You found, even though you hadn't invited her, you didn't quite mind.

#its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #twd #twd rick #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #magnolia in may

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givemeonereason · 6 months

Text

Now I Want You

Photo credit to ^^^^ this individual. I cannot read kanji so I can’t point you guys in the right direction.

Rating: +18, Sweet and Spicy

Plot: When Suguru decides to kiss you as a way to piss off Satoru, it sets into motion your need.

A/n: Guys, while I was writing the rough draft for this I lost part of it due to an app crash. I was crushed! But I went back and finally finished it before going through and refining it.

I’m so happy it’s done 😌 I really want to write more Suguru pieces.

I hope you enjoy <3

╒══════════════════════╕

It’s definitely not easy living in the Gojo estate.

And its even more difficult being the younger sister of the greatest sorcerer of the modern age.

Satoru Gojo; older brother, six-eyes, infinity, popularity, fame and fortune.

He’s the hope of all sorcerers.

And you are a fraction of his shadow. None of the clans gifts were passed down to you. You have nothing that particularly stands out. You are simply, as you are, Satoru Gojo’s little sister to mostly everyone.

However, you’ve gotten used to your existence. You don’t bare the burden and ordered attention.

And burden and attention Satoru does have. His two best friends Suguru and Shoko always at his side. Along with numerous others, sorcerer and non-sorcerer.

They gather at your childhood home on the weekends. Sodas, boba, pizza, sandwiches, loud and full of laughter.

There are definitely times where you can join in the conversation, or just be present, scrolling through social media on your phone as they carry on.

Tonight, you weren’t allowed to join.

They were playing games like Would You Rather, 20 Questions, and Spin the Bottle. There were too many boundaries that could be pushed, especially with you. No one would dare cross them, and Satoru wouldn’t allow it.

Your resolve to exclusion was baking. It gave you something to do that wasn’t connected to what was going on his Satoru and his friends, but you can also be close enough to hear what’s going on over the music playing softly playing from your Bluetooth speaker.

The glass clinked against the hardwood as it spun counterclockwise between the group. It landed on Shoko again, a coincidence, most likely not. Everyone loves pissing her off. Kento leaned over and kissed her left cheek. They both relaxed enough to not let it bother them, but Satoru and Suguru were laughing at her being subjugated to mediocrity. The things she puts up with.

The glass spun again.

Some shouting and some laughter.

And again.

But it was time for a smoke break. Nanami followed you out to the garden for some fresh air.

Suguru turned again with a clank, but it fell between the temporarily empty space that both Shoko and Kento provided. Satoru reached out to grab the bottle again for a re-spin, but Suguru looked in the direction in which the bottle was pointing. The nose was pointed towards the kitchen where you were icing cupcakes and loosely singing along to the song that flowed out into the living space they were all huddled.

Satoru is going to kill me, but this is going to be so worth it. Suguru thought with a wide smile on his face.

He stood up from where he sat cross-legged and walked towards where you were working in the kitchen.

“Suguru, where are you going you have to re-spin.” Gojo was calling out to where he was laying on multiple pillows on the floor.

You didn’t even notice him until he came up beside you. His quietness almost like a cat and it made you jump and laugh at your sudden fright.

“Oh, hey Suguru.”

He smiles sweetly at you. “Hello.” He was looking over the blue buttercream icing atop the cupcakes you made. “Mmmm.” If his eyes could devour one while he would.

He looked back to you with those hungry eyes.

“Suguru!” Satoru shouts towards him. He looks up overtop of your head and smiles back at him.

Geto bends down and grabs both of your thighs, picking you up and sitting you atop the counter.

“Suguru, what the fuck man!” Satoru is yelling and complaining. He didn’t see how Suguru lifted you.

Suguru stood between both of your legs, your body close to him, but still not against him. He looks down at the cupcakes once more and to the bowl where there was left over icing. He swiped his finger, collecting a sugary dollop on the tip. His other hand reaching out towards your face, lightly brushing over your jawline up towards your lips. His thumb brushing and gently tugging at your bottom lip. “Open.”

“Ughhhhhhhh, what are you doing, we have to get back to the game. Nanami is back already.”

Shoko was standing at the threshold of the kitchen and living space watching Suguru slightly worried, but she knew at any moment Gojo is going to unleash hell. She took her phone out and started recording.

Suguru took his finger and put it placed it in your mouth. You closed your lips over it tasting the buttery sweet you mixed only an hour before.

“That’s a good girl.” He took his finger from your mouth and closed the space between both of your lips. The kiss is hard, but his fingers held the nape of your neck so gently. Wonton kisses, little moans leave your lips between kisses. His tongue swiping against your lip for entry.

Satoru was making his way towards the kitchen, but you we so lost in Suguru’s lips and ragged breaths. His hand at your neck and waist pulling you against him so that you could wrap your legs around him.

You open your mouth to grant entry for him. His tongue swirling against yours.

It lasted only a few moments before Satoru came barging into the kitchen, the sight of his best friend and little sister making him see red.

You were the only one who didn’t notice the shift when Suguru bit gently at your bottom lip before pulling away, a trail of saliva pulling between you two. “So sweet. You taste goo…I mean, the icing tastes good.”

Your face is flush red, your fingers reach up to touch your swollen lips. You have to catch your breath.

Suguru took off while Satoru chased him jumping on his back. He was yelling about defiling his little sister, he is his best friend, kick is ass. They wrestled each other and Shoko was sure to keep that video for a later use to tease them.

The kitchen was silent again as if they never came in. Back to where you started. Satoru Gojo’s little sister.

<< >>

You found yourself replaying that kiss over and over in your mind when you spaced out or when you dreamed at night.

Suguru’s kiss awoken a need deep within you. A need you could never seem to satiate.

How many nights did you lay a top of your blankets rubbing your overstimulated bud thinking about his mouth on yours, the warm aftertaste.

Your own climax not nearly enough to stop the ache.

An ache enough to need so much more.

You snuck out of your Jujutsu High dorm room and over towards the upperclassmen rooms. The night air nipping at your skin through your pajamas. You crossed your arms over your chest keeping warm against the cold.

Room number three.

You knocked four times and shifted your weight from sole to sole nervous.

A few moments later the door opens and Suguru looks at you through sleepy eyes. His bed hair lay against his bare chest. He rubbed an eye and yawned tensing up the muscles of his abs and arms. “Y/n, it’s late. What’s going on?” He braced himself against the doorframe.

“Suguru, I need some help.”

“Hmmmm.” He looks down towards room number four. “I don’t think Satoru is here. He’s been away on a mission. He might be back—“

“I don’t need his.” You interrupt him. “I need your help.”

That surprised him, he shook the sleep out of his head. “Okay.” He pushed the door, letting you pass through the threshold and shutting it behind you.

He motions for you to sit on his bed. You barely take up any space on the edge, trying not to encroach upon his personal thing. You could feel the warmth where he laid prior. You wanted to lay there with him.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

You shake your head no and he stands near the foot of the bed with his back pressed against the wall. “Well, What can I help you with?”

You’re staring at the ground. The dark room only cast gray shadows from the moonlight shining between the curtains.

“I can’t get it to stop.”

“You can’t get what to stop?”

You pressed your thighs together to ease the throbbing in your core. “This feeling I have inside of me. I just can’t get rid of and I keep trying, but nothing’s working.”

He sighs and closes his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. “You women speak in riddles.”

“That was my first kiss.”

His eyes shoot open at your confession. “Hmm?”

You didn’t hear him, “I haven’t been able to get rid of this feeling inside of me since then.” You cross your legs to stop pressing them together “and tried I rubbing my clit so many times, but it just doesn’t go away.”

His eyes are wide. His hand dropping down to his pants where his cock was becoming overly hard. He tried to hold back a groan when he tried adjusting the pressure in his pants. “And you want me to help you get rid of that?”

You turn to him with hopeful eyes, “I’ve tried everything. Suguru, please.” You begged him.

He rubs his hands over his face to calm the heat residing there. “Your brother really will kill me.”

You stood from where you were sitting and faced him, closing space between you both. You reached out, touching his chest. Your voice soft, but needy. “Please, I need….” You couldn’t even finish.

Suguru looked at you for a moment pondering on what he should do. “Are you sure this is what you want?” You nod your head in agreement.

He scoops you up into his arms and carries you back over to his bed. He lays you down against the cotton sheets. The spot remaining warm from where we slept prior to your intrusion. And he’s over top of you, his face nestled in the crook your neck. His long black locks draping over you.

You’re trembling beneath him as he trails kisses up towards your wanton lips. His hand resting gently against your waist. He can hear you soft moans.

“You’re shaking.” His fingers gliding up your side. “Breathe, y/n.” Your heart is beating so fast. Your skin hot with need.

He softly kisses your lips. He looks down at you smiling from his eyes.

“I’m trying, Sugu.”

He chuckled sweetly. “Sugu, hmmm? I rather like that.” He gently pushed the hair away from your pretty face.

His weight is pressed against you, hand gripping your waist, while the other is gingerly at your cheek, your nose against his. He’s looking intently at you. “I will ask one more time, I need to be sure. Do you want me to do this?”

You pick your head up to close the short distance between both of your mouths, but his finger stops you, pressed against your plush pink lips. “Do you want me?”

You nodded.

“I need you to use your words.”

“Suguru, please, I need you so bad.” You whine, trying to buck you hips into his to sully the ache deep inside.

He reaches down pulling onto your thighs around his waist, burying his face back down against the soft skin at your collarbone.

One by one he unbuttoned the top of your pajama shirt. Kissing and nipping at the plush of your breasts.

His eyes flashing up towards you face, relishing in the way your eyes flutter with each touch and kiss. The shape of your lips when you mewl. And the rise and fall of your arched back with every sharp breath, pushing you against his hungry mouth.

His raven locks sending shivers over your when he gently kissed at the space where your waist band rested against your hips. Slowly he peels down fabric you grab at his shoulder.

“Suguru, please…” you nails creating red crescents into his skin.

He had no point in teasing you any longer. Suguru removed your bottoms giving him full access to your already wet pussy. Two fingers split your glistening folds open to him. “So beautiful.”

He kissed your tiny bud making you yelp and buck your hips at the sensation. Pushing up into his face he was able to get his whole mouth over you, his tongue swirling in rhythmic motion.

And the more you moaned, cried out his name, clawed at the skin you could reach; the harder he sucked, the faster the flick of the tip of his tongue, fueling his motivation.

Three times.

He took you there, three times.

His mouth still lapping at your overstimulated cunt. “Suguru…mmmph…Sug…please.”

A lick to your pussy lips and a kiss at your back of your thigh. “Please, what?”

“I need you.”

He laughed, peppering your inner thigh with kisses. “You have me now.”

“No.” You whined, balling your hands with his sheets. If he keeps teasing you again you’ll scream from frustration. “I need you inside.”

The hungry taking over his gaze again, when he lines the tip of his cock against your entrance. Pushing slowly inside of you. He hums deeply in his chest. You were so tight around him.

He grabbed onto your hand, entwining his fingers with them. He brought them to his lips and he kissed each knuckle as he continued to slowly sheath himself inside of you.

It’s painful, he’s so big. When he sees you struggling he stops. “Y/n, breathe. It’s going to be okay.” He guides you through, letting you adjust to the sheer mass of him.

“You’re doing so good.” He brushes the hair out of your face and kisses your lips. He rocks against you and the wave of pleasure washes over you.

The ache.

You needed him.

Needed him inside of you. Just like this.

He was gentle enough to gage your pleasure. Looking at your expressions, listening to the sounds you make underneath him. The face you make when you’re clenching down around him.

Beautiful, Suguru thinks to himself. She’s so beautiful.

He kisses you passionately before picking you up and turning you around.

His body weight was against you, cock buried deep inside of you, both of his hands coming up to grasp yours. You felt

“More…ah!” He thrusts hard into you at your request. “Sugu, please, more.”

The faster he thrusted, the harder he gripped at your hips, the louder he moaned, your name chanted like a prayer to a peak, spilling his sticky, hot seed onto your skin.

He gently laid you down against bed while you caught your breath. You buried your face into his pillow exhausted.

I love him.

He cleaned you off a wet cloth, making sure to be gentle against your sensitive skin.

Suguru tossed the cloth to the ground, grabbing onto you and pulling you against his chest.

The room is silent, the early morning light peaking through the window. You pressed your face against him more. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you away from the dull rays of light.

You can hear his breaths, his heartbeat soothing you into sleep.

“Suguru.” You voice barely above a whispery sleep.

“Hmmm?” His thumb rubbing against the small of your back.

“Thank you.”

A hum emanated in his chest. He kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”

There is some silence before he speaks again. “Y/n, please forgive me.”

“What?”

He gently pushed the hair out of your face. “When I kissed you, I was only doing that because I knew it would piss of Satoru. I never asked you if it was okay. I acted very selfishly. I never intended for this to go this far.” He kissed the top of your head, lingering there. “Forgive me.”

Sadness washes over you. In part it was due to the passion you two just shared. The other was that you felt like you were being used.

So is this love?

Or is this respect?

Or some aspect of both.

Is he mostly to blame?

You did play a part in this.

It takes two.

“I did come here to you. I asked you to do this.”

He tilted your face to look into his eyes. “That is true, but I could have refused you as well.”

You pressed your cheek back against him.

Love.

Please.

Love.

His voice quieted. “One thing I know to be true is that I genuinely do admire you, y/n. I think you’re smart, talented, kind and beautiful.”

He laughs before telling you, “honestly, I have no idea how you’re Satoru Gojo’s younger sister. He’s a bit much sometimes and that’s coming from me, who puts up with him.” Another deep chuckle.

His fingers playing with your hair. “I think you deserve someone who will be good to you and make sure that you know how valued you are.” He kissed the top of your head.

You lift your head and peak up at him over your eyelashes. He’s smiling down at you. He turns his face away to hide the red building in his cheeks. “I don’t know exactly what Satoru is going to say.” Shaking his head. “I can imagine he will try and send me into the void.” He looked back to you in earnest. “But if you would like to, maybe we can try this together. We can take it as slow as you like.” His arms wrapping around you keep your close to him. “I know it doesn’t change what we already did, but if you want me, I’d like to try to be the man you deserve.”

You buried you face against his chest. Your nose squashed against his skin. Your cheeks hot from your blush.

Satoru will probably be mad. You knew your brother.

But maybe this is working out for the best, his closest friend remaining close to him. Also, he can keep an eye on Suguru while he’s around you.

It might be worth a try.

Suguru Geto, special grade sorcerer, your brother’s best friend, your lover, rightful, honest lover.

You could get used to that.

To this.

╘══════════════════════╛

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

#geto suguru #suguru geto #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #Suguru geto and you #geto suguru x reader #geto Suguru and you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu suguru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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viperrot · 1 year

Text

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 2

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

oboes are fuckin' expensive. much to you and your brother's dismay, the school is making you pay for the damages instead of your newfound enemy. oh, and his dad wants you to tutor his daughters!

pt. 1 pt.3

content contains: mild angst, enemies to lovers, mean leon, cliches, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

not proofread i am sleepy

2252 words

song rec: "the mercy of the wind" by million eyes

still on the slower side, but alas.

"Ms. (L/n)? They're asking for you at the guidance office," Mr. Kay coughs during our water break. I look up at him, confused for a moment, but I realize it was most likely to talk about that awful interaction that happened before this period between Damien, Leon, and me.

"Oh... Oka-"

"Let me go with her, Mr. Kay," Sammy demands, setting her flute down in her case beneath her seat. Before the director can say anything, the ravenette drags me by the sleeve of my shirt out of the door. She's got this pout on her lips, and I know that she's still angry.

"I can't believe that fuckin' asshole just thought it was a good idea to drop your oboe like that!" She fumes. I swear I can steam come out of her ears as she grumbles profanities about the ace soccer player. "Y'know, you'd think that he knows how expensive those things can be since he has two sisters in band, but nnooooo, he just had to go on 'n do that to you, huh? I'll show him...!"

"Sammy, it's fi-" The five-foot-nine beauty stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to face me and slam her palms onto my shoulder.

"Sugar, it's not fine," she sighs, seeing how shocked I looked. "That oboe is your baby. You can beat up your trumpet as much as you want, but that oboe is what's gettin' you into college," she reminds me. I look down at the toes of my converse, a bit embarrassed by how I was so easily putting off my emotions. I feel Sammy give my cheek a soft caress with her thumb.

"Don't lie to yourself and put Kennedy in a shinin' light. He did something awful to you, and that's a fact. Me 'n your brother are gunna make him pay hell," the girl assures me, and I nod at her words.

"Thank you, Sammy... I'm glad you love me enough to tell me I'm being an idiot," I chuckle dryly. She slaps my shoulder softly.

"That's what best friends are for, (Y/n)!" Sammy gives me a comforting smile, and we begin walking again. The journey is a bit long considering the band room is on the opposite end of the high school, but it was fun because of how Sammy described the most grotesque ways of torturing the new boy in town. Eventually, we made it to the guidance office, and inside was my counselor, my older brother, and the devil incarnate.

"Ah, there you are," my conselor, Ms. Penelope smiles. She nods at Samantha, and I figure she's okay with my friend being here. I sit down awkwardly between Leon and Damien, shrinking in my spot to take up as little space possible. My best friend sits next to Damien, furthest away from the ex-Greenvale resident. The silence is deafening, and I feel as if I could cut the tension with a knife.

"So..." Ms. Penelope clears her throat, resting her dainty hands atop her desk. "I think we all know why you three are in here," she motions towards the boys and me. Damien grunts, and Leon is dead silent. I decide to speak up.

"How will my oboe be repaired?" I question. I see Ms. Penelope's expression turn a bit somber. Through gritted teeth, she responds.

"Well, I had asked some other people before I called you in, and they said it would be best not to penalize Mr. Kenne-"

"What.," Damien and Sammy eyes narrowed as they spoke in unison. I hear Leon stifle a giggle, and my brother immediately stands up, about to pounce.

"Don't fucking laugh, you piece of shit!" He roars, fist tight at his sides. "That thing was hard-earned, dipshit!"

"Mr. (L/n), sit down, now!" Ms. Penelope gasps.

"Please," Leon scoffs. "Nothing from your family is hard-earned. As far as I know, you bribed your coach to be team captain. It's too bad that money's all wasted, Dami-poo~ I'm here now," the blonde smiles devilishly, and I see my brother is getting ready to rip his throat out.

"You little-!"

"Boys! Settle down, please! You are not making this situation any better," Ms. Penelope orders. Like a kicked puppy, Damien retreats back into his seat, crossing his arms beneath his chest like a child being scolded by his mother.

"Ugh, Ms. Penelope, this doesn't make any sense. That was an advanced-level instrument. If (Y/n) can't get it repaired or replaced soon, she won't have anything to play for our concert season," Samantha said, trying to reason. "Surely he can pitch in a little money. This is his fault, after all."

"I'm sorry... I have no control over this. If I had it my way, I'd have him pay in full, but it was a request from our principal. The best I could do was have a fundraising event approved for your band," the brunette woman explain, her frown worsening.

"Great. Can I leave now? My study hall is about to end, and I've got an English class to catch," Leon yawned out, the sleeve of his Greenvale High letterman straightening as he stretched. Ms. Penelope pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly irritated dealing with ignorant high schoolers.

"Yes, yes. Go 'head, Mr. Kennedy," she eagerly dismisses him. Immediately, he saunters out the door of her office, seemingly very happy with himself. The door shuts with a click, and it's just us four left. Tears begin to swell in the corner of my eyes.

"Erm... So, w-what's the fundraiser going to b-be?" I stutter out, not wanting to show weakness. The counselor hands me a slip of paper.

"I recommended a bake sale. It's simple, and I know our little town never says no to a sweet treat, especially with how nice the weather's been recently," she smiles gently at me, and I feel my heart squeeze. Samantha takes the pink sheet out of my hands and grins from ear to ear.

"Thanks, Ms. Penelope. I'll be telling our director about this. Is that all you needed from us?" Sammy asks, standing up from her spot. The brunette shakes her head as a no and has us leave her alone. Damien sighs when the door closes behind us, and I can tell he wants to blow up. I take his hand in mine, softly squeezing it.

"You okay, Dami?" I frown. He looks at me, clearly distraught.

"I guess..." he huffs. "I just wish he were dead," his eyes narrow, and I know he's thinking about Leon.

"Tch, you 'n me both," Sammy clicks her tongue.

"You gunna be okay, sis? I can get Ma to pick you up if you need," Damien asks me, worried. I think for a moment, and I nod as a yes. It's a Friday anyways, and there won't be any games until two weeks. Sammy leaves Damien and me on our own, deciding to get back to the band room to retrieve my belongings. My dear big brother takes me to the front off and requested the desk-lady to call our mom. After a bit, he left me with a chaste kiss on my forehead and told me to wait for Mom and Samantha.

I sat alone in the office, patiently waiting for my mom with my broken oboe in my lap.

"Hey, (Y/n)? Can you come down here for a second?" I hear Mom call from the bottom of the stairs. I slug myself out of the bed, not wanting to leave my room. My slippers drag against the floor as I slump down the stairs, wanting to get this over with and just sleep for the rest of the day. We don't have dinner until an hour or two, so I'm curious as to why Mom would call me down so early. When I make it down the stairs, I see Mom sitting in the living room with a familiar man, happily talking to him.

"She's had a bit of a rough day, so give her a moment," I hear her tell him. I walk in, still in my school clothing. My fingers fiddle with the fabric of my shirt as I sit down next to my mother, looking at the man confused.

It's Leon's dad...

"Honey, this is Mr. Kennedy. He wants to ask you a favour," Mom sets a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it softly. I swallow dryly, a tight feeling in my chest as I stare at the blonde man across me. His hair is slicked back, dressed in black dress pants, and a maroon button-up. His eyes are a gentle chocolate brown, a stark difference compared to his son's harsh and icy hues. Mr. Kennedy nods at me, smiling gently.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/n)," he grins at me. "I got a suggestion from my little ones' band directors about private lessons for trumpet. I was wondering if you were perhaps interested? I'm willing to pay you 20$ an hour if so," he asks me, crossing his legs. My eyes widen at his price.

"O-oh, uhm...!?" I bite my bottom lip, unsure of what to say. I shoot a look at my mom to my left, silently begging for guidance. She gives me only a reassuring smile, and I look back at Mr. Kennedy.

"Well?"

"Uhm... sure," I cough. "Is it alright if they're after school every Monday, Tuesday, and some Friday nights? I would like her to have some experience with our marching band as well, if you're both okay with it," I ask him. He thinks for a moment before nodding.

In the end, we agree with the schedule. Every Monday and Tuesday, his daughters will come over to practice with me. For Fridays, they'll only accompany during home football games to get some experience playing more advanced pep-tunes, but only if they want to. I tried to tell him that 20$ an hour was a bit much, but he insisted, claiming that his daughters can be rowdy. Eventually, he leaves, and I'm left alone with my mom in the kitchen to drink some tea. Slumping in my seat, I sigh annoyedly.

"Do you think he knows about my...?"

"Maybe," Mom murmurs as she washes dishes, sometimes looking at the stove to check on the boiling pasta. "But I'm assuming not," she hums, and I frown. I didn't have the heart to tell him his son is a heartless person, and it made me feel a bit worse than it should have. I leave the kitchen without another word, stumbling back into my room to cry a bit more...

It's sunny today.

"Oi, thumper, wake up," Damien raps at my bedroom door, opening it enough to poke his head in. I'm already up, sitting in my window nook while I look through some music I played in middle school to get ready for tutoring. I look up from the sheets, staring blankly at my brother.

"Ready?" I ask him. He looks surprised that I'm awake, but he nods.

"Mom's letting me take Pa's car today," my older brother smirks, dangling the silver keys in the air. I chuckle, knowing how much he loves Dad's little Impala. I get up from my spot in my plush nook, following Damien downstairs and out the door after we bid our parents goodbye. The two of us race to the car childishly, giggling all along as we throw ourselves into the noir Chevrolet. We settle into the cool leather seats, and I immediately pop on our cassette tape that’s stored in the center console. Immediately, Toto’s “Hold the Line” begins, and we begin to pull out of the driveway. As Damien hums along to the song, I look out of the window to my left.

Today, we’re going out to get a hand-me-down oboe from a local shop that is generous enough to give me one since I’m there so often. A little temporary deal until my personal one can be repaired or replaced. As we pull out of the drive way, I catch sight of the devil across the street.

He’s sitting on the porch, and I’m confused as to how I didn’t notice him before. In Leon’s lap is what looks like a guitar, and he’s got this ugly scowl on his face as he glares at us from his home.

“What an ugly bastard,” Damien white-knuckles the wheel, glaring at him through the rearview. I glance over to my brother, seeing his brows furrow as he stares down the blonde boy across the street.

A large part of me wanted to defend Leon’s beauty. I know I should hate him, but he’s just so… charming. From the rearview, I notice how his hair is a little damp, and I assume he had showered this morning. His shirt is simply white, and I can’t see the rest of his outfit from the way he sat behind his porch. My fingers clutch the at fabric of my sleeves, holding myself back from saying something about Leon’s looks. We drive past the Kennedy household, and I can’t help but stare through the window.

Leon’s gaze pierces through the glass, and I feel myself shrink into my seat, my heart drumming against my ribcage as we lock eyes. His lips are formed in a straight line as his icy glare follows the Impala I rode in, and I can’t bring myself to look away.

Is it wrong to want to talk to him, despite what he did to me?

uhh its still slow but yk i think thats what will make it good or not i honestly just type out my scrambled thoughts and hope it works!

pt.3 here!

some lovelies⇁ @vampiramaeve @kurawooooooo @umooooo74 @estre11afugaz

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil/biohazard #biohazard #angst #mild angst #slowburn #leon s kennedy x reader #high school au #>>high school sweethearts: lsk

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bucky-fricking-barnes · 1 year

Text

Until We Get Home

Title: Until We Get Home

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Verbal harassment and threats, language, mentions of alcohol and drinking

Summary: It’s 2am and you should be in bed, but you’re on the subway instead. Unfortunately, so is your ex.

A/N: This is based on the song “Another New York Love Story” from the musical “In Pieces”. As always, thanks for supporting me in all the ways you do. Lots of love, and thank you for reading!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Tara had promised you that dinner wouldn’t be more than a few hours, especially since you’d worked all day and you have work again tomorrow. It would be a few drinks, some food, and then maybe a little bit of catching up if the restaurant wasn’t too packed. The restaurant is packed, but it’s packed when you get there, so your college friend makes the executive decision to move your shindig to the bar across the street. That bar turns out to be a club that’s equally as packed as the restaurant, but clubs are supposed to be packed, so no one complains. You don’t complain either, considering you haven’t seen Tara and the others for almost four years.

I should’ve complained, you think. Maybe only a little, though.

The stairs down to the station seem to be moving as you climb down in your suddenly precarious heels, and it takes you a second at the bottom to right yourself. Maybe you had one drink too many. Despite your giddiness at spending so much time with your friends, you’re exhausted. It’ll be okay, though, because it’s two in the morning. There’s bound to be plenty of open seats on the train, meaning that you won’t have to stand for a little while—fourteen stops, to be exact. You’ve got some time to sober up.

You swipe your metrocard and board the train as soon as it arrives, then plop yourself down into a seat. It’s one of the cars with two long rows of chairs separated by an aisle, and the rest of your row is empty. Only three other people are in the car, and all of them ignore you as you get on. The older woman down the way continues to knit in silence, and you spy an airpod tucked behind her hair. It looks like she’s making some kind of underwear, if you’re being honest. You try not to stare.

A man a few seats down from you on the other side of the aisle stands grasping one of the metal poles. There’s nothing particularly interesting about him, but he looks about as tired as you feel. He stares out the window behind you at the station, then at the passing bricks and darkness when the train lurches into motion. The man sways a little as you move through the tunnels.

I’ll bet we all look like zombies right now. You half-heartedly try to fix your hair a little, but give up a minute later. It doesn’t really matter this early in the morning, anyway.

The third person is a young girl, young enough that your protective instincts kick. She’s hunched over in her seat with her bag in her lap, the picture-perfect vision of a girl who’s never ridden late at night before. She’s hyper vigilant and glances over when she feels your eyes on her. A pang of sympathy goes through you at the sight, and you make a mental note to make sure she stays unbothered while you’re riding.

Fourteen stops. No one gets on or off.

Thirteen stops. Still, no one gets on or off.

A few minutes later, the train slows to a stop at the next station. You look up from where you’ve been shuffling through the music on your phone, despite the fact that you’re just going to listen to the same song on repeat, then freeze as a new man enters the train. His stature is large, big enough to stand out in a crowd, but here on the train he seems like a behemoth.

Steve doesn’t take the subway, you think, but it’s definitely him. He’s wearing the same brown jacket and blue t-shirt that he wore on the first time he took you to Brooklyn, and though his golden hair is covered with a baseball cap and he’s got those stupid black-framed glasses on again, you’d know him anywhere.

The doors hiss shut as Steve takes one of the empty seats. He’s across the aisle from you, a few seats down but not as far as the woman knitting. Though he doesn’t look around, you know that he’s taking in his surroundings. He’s always hyper-aware of what’s around him.

There’s a book in his hand and you’re too far away to read the title, but you recognize the cover. It’s the one that you bought him from your favorite bookstore, the one that you still have a hard time going into because it makes you think of all the afternoons the two of you had spent wandering the aisles together.

Steve always said that New York was his city. It’s his home, his safe place, and his beating heart. Once, he’d told you that you were his beating heart. It’s hard to be in a city that reminds you so much of him. The pain never quite leaves, an ever-present ache in your chest as you go about your day. If you could break your lease, you’d leave, but that isn’t an option, at least right now. Instead, you’ve changed as much as you can. You don’t take the same routes to and from work anymore. You shop at a different grocery store, and you don’t eat Thai takeout from the place around the corner that he loves, no matter how many menus and coupons they put in the mailroom. Memories of him are in every monument, every crosswalk, and every tucked-away apartment. They come in on whispers of wind and the crash of trash cans outside your building, and they break your heart every single time.

As subtly as possible, you shift until you’re sitting at an angle, facing away from him. If you’re lucky, Steve won’t see your face and try to start a conversation. The two of you haven’t talked since he broke up with you in the lobby of the Avengers Tower months ago.

You’d come to bring him some lunch. He’d been on his way to tell you that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. While five months had been enough to make you certain that you could spend the rest of your life with him, it wasn’t enough for him. Steve’s words had cut deeper than any knife ever could. A small part of you wants to hit him in retaliation for the way he ended things, though you know your punch wouldn’t do much at all to him.

Only twelve stops, you tell yourself. You can do this. You can totally go unnoticed for twelve stops. Just sit very, very quietly.

The train starts moving again and you close your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Thankfully, this car doesn’t smell as bad as some of the others you’ve been in. There’s movement in the aisle and you open your eyes to see the man approaching you. He’s leering, something between a creepy smile and sneer on his face, and you tense. You only have one earbud in, but even if you didn’t, you still would have been able to hear everything he says as he creeps towards you. It’s disgusting and your stomach churns. The girl down the way is watching with wide eyes and while you’re thankful it’s you and not her, you still don’t want to be in this situation.

He keeps his distance, thankfully, but he’s shouting at you in a way that makes you want to curl up and hide. His eyes are crazed as they look you up and down.

“You whore! You can go back to wherever you came from! You’re not gonna get my money! You’re not going to get anything from me, not until the boss tells me you’re dead!”

You try your best to ignore him, fidgeting with the cord to your portable charger and clutching your bag in your lap. There’s pepper spray inside, but you’re not sure if that would help. You refuse the instinct to curl in on yourself. The best thing to do is to stay strong, to look tough.

“I’ll bet you’re gonna go home to the boss and tell him all the nasty things we did together! That’s right, tell him all the things you want to do to me. I’ll bet you're ready for a good lay, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Steve’s closing the distance between you now. His book has disappeared from his hand and his posture is undoubtedly less casual than when he’d been sitting in his seat. You hadn’t even realized that he was watching you, but you suppose that outbursts on an almost empty subway are hard to miss. Part of you is grateful that he’s stepping in, but a small part of you rises up, indignant, and insists that you could’ve handled it yourself. You’ve handled worse.

“That’s enough,” Steve firmly tells him, positioning himself between you and the man. He’s like a brick wall, and you relax a little in his shadow. You can’t even see past Steve’s figure, and if you’re being honest, you’re trying not to look. His ass is right in your face, and if you look too much, you’re bound to say something utterly embarrassing about it when this is all over.

“You should leave her alone.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?” the man taunts.

Steve draws himself up a little taller and you peek up to watch him remove the baseball cap and glasses. It only takes a second before the man retreats.

Captain America saves the day again.

Once the man is back on the other side of the train, Steve turns to you and you quickly look down before he can catch your eye. The screen of your phone is black now and your earbud has fallen out, sliding from your shoulder to your lap. Miraculously, it hasn’t fallen onto the floor of the train. You tuck it into your palm and make a fist.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentler. When you don’t answer, he tries again. “Y/N? Please just let me know if you’re okay.”

I don’t want to talk to you.

“I’m fine,” you finally respond. You force yourself to look up, unsure if you’re more grateful that he’s helped you or if you should roll your eyes at his inability to let someone else take over. Steve never was one to back down from a fight, even when it’s not his own.

He nods. “Good. I’m glad.” Steve pauses, grabbing onto one of the horizontal bars for balance as the train sways. “How have you been?”

You hold back a groan. Of course he wants to small talk.

“Okay. How about you?” you ask, not really wanting to hear his answer.

Please don’t say that you’ve been good, you tell him in your head.

He holds your gaze for a second before looking away, nodding a little bit more than necessary. “Good. I’ve, uh, I’m okay, too.”

He replaces his glasses and the hat before grabbing onto the bar again. You shift awkwardly in your seat and glance over at the girl. She’s watching the man warily, but the train stops again and he makes a quick escape. The girl relaxes, and so do you.

You glance up at the map as the announcements play in the car. Eight more stops to go.

“Why are you out this late?” Steve’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up at him from your seat. “You’re usually in bed at this time of night.”

“I went out for dinner with some friends,” you answer.

“Not Natasha?” Steve replies, like he already knows the answer, and you shake your head.

“Tara,” you tell him. “Lindsay and Mallory were there, too. Lizzy was supposed to come, but she got sick and decided to stay back at the hotel.”

Steve looks surprised. “You haven’t seen them in years. Why are they in town? Did you get to meet Mallory’s daughter?”

He remembers that she had a baby?

It takes you a second to process his questions. While Steve remembers a lot, it’s strange that he’d remember such specific details about your friends, especially after so long. It’s not important information. You’re certain that you only mentioned them a few times in the months you dated. You and your college friends don’t keep up except to send each other funny posts and videos.

“Um, no,” you stammer after a second, knowing that it’s been a little too long of a pause. You’ve made things awkward. “No, her husband stayed home with the baby while she’s in town. They have concert tickets for tomorrow, but they all flew in a day early to do some sightseeing. They asked if I wanted to go out to dinner after I got off work.”

Nodding, Steve searches your face, and you feel your cheeks warm under his steady gaze. You shift in your seat again, adjusting your grip on the earphone in your hand just to give yourself something to do.

“You look good, Y/N. Work’s going okay?”

You nod back and glance at the floor. There’s gum everywhere. Someone’s left a styrofoam takeout container underneath a seat.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s good. Yours is good too, from what I hear.”

His expression is neutral when you finally look up again. “I’m not dead yet,” he tells you. “That’s normally a good sign.”

You could get lost in his eyes. How is it that it’s been months and you’re still able to be drawn in so quickly? Steve has the kind of face that comforts, that reassures. You love that about him. It soothes your soul a little and washes away the last dredges of fear the man’s harassment had brought on.

You’ve been staring too long, your brain helpfully chimes. He’s just being friendly. Small talk and public relations are a part of his job.

You blink, then look back over at the map above the windows opposite you. “So where are you headed?” you ask.

“Manhattan,” Steve answers. When you look back at him, you get the answer to your next questions without even having to ask. You’re both getting off at the same stop, just like you always used to when he came to pick you up from work.

Clearing your throat, you look back down at your locked phone. “Right.”

Only three more stops. That’s not as long as it feels like.

Down the train, the girl grabs her backpack and exits the train. The doors hiss shut a moment later, and when you look up, you realize that the other woman has left, too. It’s just you and Steve on the train in the early hours of the day.

You swallow thickly and wrack your brain for something else to say. All you can come up with is, “It’s been pretty cold lately.”

Steve is quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think Nat said something about it snowing this weekend.”

You nod and try not to fidget, try not to look nervous. Why is he still standing so close?

“She’ll like that,” you reply.

He nods again. “Yeah.” Steve pauses. “Tony won’t, though. He hates the snow.”

You nod again, then curse yourself for nodding so much. How many times has that been? You haven’t looked up in a while, should you look up again?

“So where did you have dinner tonight?” he asks.

“What?”

“You said you went out to dinner.”

“Oh. Right.” You look up, and when he doesn’t say anything more, you realize he’s still expecting an answer. “Oh. Um, well, we were going to go to this one place—Rio? But it was too busy, so we went to the bar across the street. Well, it’s more of a club than anything.”

Steve leans against the pole next to him, one hand still holding onto the railing above him. “Tuscano, right? I’ve been there.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’ve been to a club?”

“It wasn’t so bad,” he answers, though there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks. When your expression doesn’t change, he explains, “It was Tony’s birthday a few weeks ago. He insisted we go to as many clubs as possible in one night—something about him and Pepper taking a break? We were only there for twenty minutes, I think, but it was long enough.”

Nodding, you relax and smile a little at the mental image of Steve standing in Tuscano. “Sounds like a fun night.”

“Something like that. I think I’ve been to Rio, too. It’s not too crowded if you go for lunch.”

Steve carries on the conversation like it’s easy. It probably is. He’s friendly in a way that reminds you a little too much of how he talks with strangers and fans. He doesn’t once ask you anything too personal, nor does he bring up anything about your last interactions or the months you dated. It stings, thinking that you mattered nothing to him in retrospect, but when he glances out the window at the second-to-last stop, you catch a glimpse of something you hadn’t noticed before—sadness.

You recognize it immediately. You’ve seen that same look in your eyes every time you’ve looked in the mirror since Steve broke up with you. You feel it every time you pass by the bookshop or hear about him and the other heroes on the news or in conversation. Every time you pass by the corner deli he likes or the vintage candy store, you think of him, and it twists the knife just a little.

A small part of yourself asks, “What if he misses you just as much as you miss him?,” but you’re too afraid to entertain that thought for long. You want to tell him. You want to tell Steve everything, starting with how much you miss him, but you can’t. That wouldn’t be fair—not to him, and definitely not to you. You’re working hard to recover from being disposed of, and another rejection could be the final blow. You push the thoughts away, willing yourself not to speak up.

The two of you ride in silence until your stop, and you follow Steve off the train and up the stairs without a word. When you reach the sidewalk, you get out of the flow of traffic and stand together, both of you with your hands in your jacket pockets. It’s strange to be standing here with him again, but you don’t want to leave yet, and you busy yourself by glancing at your phone to see if you have any missed calls. You don’t, but your music has been playing this whole time. You wonder if Steve could hear it the whole time.

Silently, you pause the song and unplug the portable charger, then tuck your earphone into its case. Steve watches you as you arrange your belongings.

“Y/N…”

“Whatever you’re about to say,” you say, stopping him before he can go any further, “Please just know that you… I’m having a really hard time with this.” You gesture between the two of you and break eye contact, knowing that you won’t be able to hold his gaze while you say this. You inhale deeply through your nose and close your eyes for a second before focusing yourself on a building across the street. “I can’t have my heart broken again by you, Steve. It was too hard the first time, and I’m still getting over it.”

Strangers walk past as you blink away tears. The light turns red and cars roll to a stop. Somewhere down the street, a siren wails. Footsteps sound in chorus all around you in the city that never sleeps, though a hush has fallen over the sleeping public, as if the world is holding its breath just for a moment.

“Me too,” Steve says. “And I’m sorry.”

You sniffle. “What?”

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. “It would make me feel better to know you got home safely after what happened on the train.”

You pause, taken aback by the question, but after a few seconds, you nod and wipe your eyes, a little embarrassed.

Steve moves forward and you turn around, naturally falling into step beside him as he heads towards your apartment building. The sidewalks are less crowded than normal, but you walk together in silence, side-by-side, until you reach the door to the building’s mailroom. It takes all your willpower not to reach out and take his hand as you walk.

”I’m sorry for what I said. I was… I was scared and I panicked, and that’s not an excuse, but I didn’t think I was ready to be in a relationship. I’m in love with you, Y/N, and that scared me. I didn’t think that I should fall as hard and as fast as I did for you. It felt too dangerous, but now I realize that it wasn’t a bad thing. Being with you feels like being home, and that’s something I’ve been searching for for a long time,” Steve says.

You shake your head a little. “What?”

He searches your face, mouth gaping a little, before finally answering with, “I’m in love with you.”

“But you broke up with me,” you say, feeling a bit lost. It’s like he’s taken the script in your head and completely flipped it upside down. What are you supposed to say?

“I know,” he replies. Steve looks down at his shoes and rubs the back of his neck. “Y/N, I— I’m sorry. I don’t think anything I could ever do will make up for what I said and what I did, but I want to try.”

You press your lips together and look over at the glass door that leads inside. You could go. It would be easy to leave him standing outside your building, and you know that if you told Steve to never talk to you again, he’d listen. You’d never hear from him ever again. A tiny voice tells you to do that, to pull away from him before he inflicts even more pain.

He kisses you on the cheek.

Your eyes fly to his, and there’s guilt flooding the blue that’s always been a safe haven to you.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You shake your head. You’re not angry. You’re…

“I love you too.” The words you’ve wanted to say for so long are finally out in the open, hanging between you in the night air.

“You do?” he asks, and you nod.

“I do.”

A smile appears on his face, your heart settles a little in your chest, and then you realize what it is that you’re feeling.

I’m home, you think, and you smile back.

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