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lizthewriter · 8 months

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i think there's been a glitch / theodore nott

PAIRING Theodore Nott x studious!shy!Reader

SUMMARY Theodore Nott was well known for the sort of happenstances that occurred in his dorm. However, the new transfer student seems to catch his eye in particular - that transfer student is you. His friends think that, at first, he has his eyes set on you for more sinful reasons, but he soon proves that his intentions are more romantic than anyone ever thought.

TAGS Theodore Nott x Reader, angst, if you squint, idiots in love, cursing, kissing, study buddies, friends to wtf is this to friends with benefits but also wtf is this to lovers, theo is a simp, reader is not slytherin, can be any other house, reader has social anxiety, references to sex, underage drinking, headmaster's list = dean's list, gender neutral reader

"We were supposed be just friends, / you don't live in my part of town, but maybe I'll see you out some weekend, / depending on what type of mood and situationship I'm in, / and what's in my system," - Glitch by Taylor Swift

WORD COUNT 3.2K

WRITTEN 27.08.2023

A/N This came as a burst of inspiration during calc class when I realized I was really the only person answering my professor's questions in my classes, lmaoo 😭😭 so this is purely self-induglent. i hope you guys enjoy <333

When you had transferred to Hogwarts, you hadn't made very many friends. All right, you hadn't made any friends. Because you had transferred to Hogwarts so late in your academic career, everyone had already formed their own friend groups. No one had any real interest in you - that was, they were interested in why you transferred, but not in assimilating you into their social circles. Your professors, however, had grown quite fond of you, most likely due to your dedication to your studies. And eventually, around midway through the fall semester, you were called into the Headmaster's office. It had kept you on your toes all day - had you done something wrong? Gotten in trouble? Your mind had come up with most elaborate and unlikely scenarios that might have cause you to get called into the Headmaster's office.

You were awarded the honor of being added to the Headmaster's list. Only two others in your year were granted the same honor - Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott. All three of you were maintaining straight O's. You and Hermione had never gotten the opportunity to grow close - it might have been the fact that she was much more close-mindrd than you, or the fact that she didn't have the time to spare to make new friends between her studies and all the "Chosen One" stuff going on. You wanted to at least make one friend, instead of an academic rival, which you made the mistake of creating at your previous school.

So, you approached Theo after the meeting, your hands clamy and shaking while you stuttered out your request to study together. Theo simply watched you with those dead eyes of his before nodding. It had unnerved you but you pushed yourself to confirm a date and time with him. And so began your little friendship.

You were never meant to be more than study partners. Weekly study sessions in the library grew into bi-weekly gatherings, which then grew into daily meetings. And then you were meeting each other after class, making inside jokes, hanging out just because. Slowly, but surely, you and Theo grew close. You weren't sure you had ever been this close with anyone before. It was like he just knew you, not only like the back of his hand, but like every square inch of his body.

And Theo? Theo had never saw you coming. He didn't know that he wanted to be friends with you until you were friends, and then he couldn't stop coming back. You were like a drug. He needed another hit each and every time he saw you. Soon enough, he was aching to spend every waking moment with you. It had started as nothing more than a mutually beneficial partnership, but it grew to be much more than that.

It took him a while to realize he loved you. Cared for you. He was well reputed for sleeping around and having a general devil-may-care attitude. He knew that he loved you when he began to grow tired of the constant flings and one-night stands. When he called off the on-and-off relationship he'd had with a particularly vivacious Slytherin girl. He hated the way girls threw themselves at him, vying for his attention like wildcats fighting over a piece of meat. You weren't like that. You were perfect.

He knew he wanted to ask you out. His friends scoffed at the idea, thinking he was joking. They were shocked when they realized he was serious. Mattheo had even knocked on his head, asking if Theo was really in there. It had to be perfect, so he went to the only people he knew who had ever been in serious relationships. Mostly everyone had told him the same thing - find out what you liked. Woo you. It was rather simple. "For someone who is so smart, you're rather stupid, you know," Blaise had told him. He secretly agreed.

First, he had bought a collection of muggle novels for you at a book store on a forgotten. It had beautifully decorated covers, guilded with golden etchings. When you had sat down to study one day, Theodore had dropped it on the table in front of you while he pulled out his books.

"What's this?" You had asked in confusion.

"It reminded me of you," he said simply, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through it to find where he had last left off.

You furrowed your brows as you pulled the box towards you, unclasping the front of it and pushing it open. You let out the small gasp at the gorgeous hardcovers resting inside, hands trailing along the sturdy spines. Five Muggle Classics, the interior of the box cover said. "Theo . . . " Your voice trailed off at the thoughtfullness of the gift - you were left utterly speechless. "I can't take this. I can't imagine how expensive how this was." You slid the case of books back to Theo. He stopped it, pushing it back towards you.

"Take it. I can't return it. Besides, I got it for you. I would hate to see these go to waste."

You bit your bottom lip before pulling the box back towards you, a smile spreading across your face as you pulled out one of your favorite muggle classics. You flipped through the pages, allowing that paticular new-book smell to wash over you like the waves on a shore. "Thank you," you mumbled softly.

You never came to parties. Mostly because you hated all the drinking and crowds and the mixture of stroking lights and booming music that made you dizzy. But you had started to develop feelings for a particular friend of yours. He was tall, devilishly handsome, and more intelligent that anyone you'd ever met. He smelled of evergreen trees, cigarettes, and lilac. You felt for him in a way that you had never felt for anyone else. You were always so laser-focused on you studies, but you realized that your attention had been straying towards a paticular someone as of recently.

You knew he hung around these sort of parties, finding pretty girls to have a fun night with. You wore the most insanely inappropriate dress you could find, hoping to catch his attention. You weren't exactly sure what your goal for that night was, but you were certain you wanted it to end with you and Theo, alone.

Of course, Theo was shocked to see you there. Even more shocked to see you out of the jeans and sweaters you usually wore, standing in a tight little number that had him practically frothing at the mouth. Not that you weren't always stunning, but you were stunning stunning. He wouldn't have approached you normally, but with the alcohol currently coursing through his system, he had a boost of courage and stupidity.

Five seconds later, he was standing right behind you, calling your name. You turned around to face him with a grin. "Hey, there you are."

"What are you doing here?" It sounded much more like a statement than a question - he was seemingly distracted by something else about you.

"I came to see you, silly. And to see what all the rage is about."

"And?"

"I've come to the conclusion that parties suck."

Theo laughed, something hearty that rumbled through his chest. "Want to go somewhere else?"

"Please," you responded with a role of your eyes. "I'm starting to get a headache." You had stupidly accepted a drink and chugged down the bitter alcohol earlier - that didn't bode well for your head when you were already bothered by loud music sober.

Theo's eyes searched the room for somehwere that might be a little quieter - his eyes landed on the staircase to his dorm. Well, where else was there to go? He lead you up the steps, the two of you laughing as he kept you from stumbling down the stairs, and guided you to his dorm. He sat you down on the bed, grabbing a glass on his bedside table, and filled it up with the spell Aguamenti.

"Thanks," you said sweetly, taking it from his hand and taking a long sip. You took a good look at the room, easily able to tell whose area of the roo. was whose. Mattheo's was messy - clothes strewn across the bed and floor. Draco's was neat and filled with a variety of potions book, his bedside table cluttered with potions of a variety of colors, lined up in orderly rows. Blaise had a poster of his favorite Quidditch team plastered on the wall, as well as a family photo filled with all his siblings. Theo's, however, was minimal and tidy aside from the piles of books. His bed was neatly made, the corners of the covers tucked under the mattress.

You finally met Theo's eyes and finally saw some sort of emotion - it took you a moment to identify it as hunger. You glanced down at the outfit you were wearing and flushed, your eyes staying firmly on the ground.

"You look very pretty."

You felt your heart stop in your chest. Had Theo called you . . . pretty? You were in shock - sure, you had come to the party with more than friendly intent, but you had never expected that he would actually notice you the way he had noticed other girls.

"Y-you - you look very handsome."

Theo watched you for a moment - he was standing only a foot away with arm wrapped around the four-poster, hanging off from it slightly. There was an odd sort of tension in the room - you both knew what you wanted and you both knew you wanted it now. Both of your inhibitions were lowered because of the alcohol, so it was that one split desicion that changed everything. Soon enough, his lips were planted into yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other trailing along the side of your body. Everything had happened so fast - it went from the hand on your hips guiding you down onto the mattress to clothes strewn on the floor to sleeping heavily within each other's arms. It was hours before you woke again, and you were grateful that none of his friends had come up from the party yet. He helped you get dressed, a look of almost disbelief settled into his features as you left, sending him an awkward smile before you closed the door. What had he done?

The next day you had studied together like nothing happened. You cracked a joke. He laughed. You helped him with Transfiguration, he helped you with Ancient Runes. Another day passed. And another. And another. Theo was going beyond mad - what were you two now? Were you still friends? Were you dating? He felt like he wanted to yank all his hair out of his head.

That was, until about a week later. Late at night, the two of you were studying in the library. He was huddled next to you, embarrassingly distracted by your beauty while you were trying to help him with a homework problem he got stuck on. He finally snapped back to attention as you pointed to something on his parchment, leaning downwards to see exactly what you were pointing at. At the same time, you had turned your head to see what had him so distracted. The resultant situation: your noses bumped together and he could feel your heavy, hot breath on his lips.

Flashbacks to the night you shared soared through both of your minds. And it was you, this time, who had made the stupid desicion. You lunged for his lips with desperation, fingers snaking through his hair, a hand planted on his chest. He had tensed in surprise before returning the kiss with equal fervor. It wasn't long before you were quickly packing your things and Theo was dragging you to some abandoned room, your lips entangled as he pressed you up against the wall. The moonlight seeped in through the red glass-stained windows, dancing deliciously on your skin. Forever engraved in his memory was the picture of you, the only word on your lips being his name, grasping his shoulders with need.

Neither of you knew what kind of relationship you had descended into. It involved rather intimate gatherings from time to time, but for the most part, you were just friends. It was an almost seamless friendship between you two - except for the nagging thoughts at the back of both of your minds that kept you wondering if the other really felt the same way.

Theo buried his face into his hands, surrounded by a group of friends who had utterly no idea what to do. Their eyes watched him with trepidation and worry. It was oddly concerning how much he was stressing over this. Theo never seemed to stress about anything. But here he was, hands fisted in his hair, staring down at the ground in utter disillusionment.

"I've ruined everything. All cause I couldn't keep it in my fucking pants."

"That can't be it, mate," Mattheo tried reassuring him. "Look, you said they're different, yeah? All the other girls you've slept with found someone else after you. But they keep coming back for more. That has to mean something, right?"

"Yeah, you've just got to romance them," Blaise said. Theo groaned.

"Please never open your mouth again."

"I'm serious. Take her to Hogsmeade, that'll show them."

Theo leaned his face upwards, staring at Blaise. He was right - taking someone to Hogsmeade virtually meant asking them out on a date. You had to know the innuendo by now, being at Hogwarts as long as you have. "Blaise, you're brilliant." He clapped his friend on the back, rushing out of the dorm to find you.

You scanned the bookshelves for books with more information on Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The idea fascinated you - how come you could conjure any sort of non-edible object from nothing, but with food you couldn't? At the root of it, everything was made of subatomic particles, then atoms, then particles, and so on. So, theoretically, anything could be created from nothing, correct?

You were so enraptured by your own thoughts that you had no conception of your surroundings and bumped right into someone walking straight towards you. The books in your arms tumbled onto the floor and you flushed a bright red, bending down to pick them up.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, hastily collecting the books from the ground. The boy, who you hadn't really looked at yet, bent down to help you collect them as well. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm really -"

As you stood up, you finally got to look at his face - and it turned out to be Theo. His face was just barely flushed, and the emotion in his eyes held a deep meaning that you couldn't quite decrypt. You didn't have a chance to ask him what he was doing, because he beat you to it.

"Go to Hogsmeade with me."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hogsmeade. You and I. Interested?" His tone was strained, and you realized what emotion finally lay beyond those dead eyes. Fear.

You knew what he was insinuating. Was he - asking you out on a date? Did that mean he really did like you? More than just as someone he could have a little fun with time and again, someone who was just a friend. You stared up at him for quite a while, not realising how silent you were as you sunk into the rabbit hole of your own thoughts.

"I - erm - all right, then." You were still quite in a bit of shock. "Will you -"

"Yeah, I'll wait for you outside your common room." The fear in his eyes seemed to dissipate, his shoulders sagging in relief.

"Right. Yeah, sounds good. Great."

You had bundled up for the cold weather, a thick scarf wrapped around your neck and a hat with your house emblem on your head. You tried to dress in something nice underneath the layers of warmth - it had taken you a long time to decide what exactly you wanted to wear, but you had eventually come to a conclusion.

When you exited the dormitory, you found Theo bundled up with an equal amount of layers, yet he looked just as attractive as he always did. In his hands, he held a single rose. You flushed a bright red, especially as a group of first year girls giggled as they exited the dorm behind you.

"Hello," Theo said simply, handing you the rose.

"Hello," you responded shyly, taking it gratefully and holding it in your hands. You smiled nervously, rocking back and forth on your feet. "So."

"So. Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Theo grabbed your hand, holding it gently. You hid your face from his view, not wanting him to know the kind of affect he had on you as he lead you through the castle. "What do you want to do first?"

You had weaved your hand through his arm, resting your head on the edge of his shoulder. "Hm. I need some more quills. But we should definitely stop at the bookshop first. I want to see if they've gotten anything new."

"Okay."

Theo had never been a talkative person - and you had never really minded it, not until now. You wish that maybe he might just tell you he had feelings for you, more than feelings that only arose every once in a while. It would make this so much easier on you. But you were nervous and shy and had a hard time talking to people, even one's you've been friends with. So you remained silent on the walk there.

Theo could tell it was an uncomfortable silence. Not only did being the quiet one meant he could read a room easily, he had also been around you long enough to know when you felt uncomfortable. He stopped the two of you from walking - you were already walking the path to Hogsmeade, snow lightly covered both of your heads.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing."

"You don't have to lie to me."

You bit the interior of your cheek nervously. Did you really want to destroy what you had with him? You were content with keeping your relationship the way it was. At least, that's what you convinced yourself.

You felt your gaze being drawn back to Theo, his fingers resting under your chin. "Don't hide from me, love, tell me what's on your mind."

"Love." You felt your heart melt into a puddle of hope and embarrassment. "Theo . . . what are we?"

Theo grabbed your hand and held it up, intertwining your fingers together. He looked at them, with something akin to fascination, and muttered, "What do you want us to be?"

You paused. "I want us to be together," you whispered, looking up at him with eyes of despair. Theo felt his heart wrench at the sight of it. He raised his other hand, brushing it lightly against your cheek.

"Then let's be together," he whispered back. He leaned downwards, meeting your lips in a soft kiss. It wasn't like any of the kisses before that - no, those were passionate, desperate, lust-filled kisses. This was loving, caring, blossoming. He dropped your hand to cup both of your cheeks in his hand, his nose biting into your cheek. "You and I. I like the sound of that."

tags: @plants-are-pretty-cool @annaisabookworm @maricardigan

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

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joelalorian · 18 days

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Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

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

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

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

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Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981 @marirxse

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

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reiderwriter · 9 months

Text

The Lightbulb Moment

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff but a little bit suggestive at the end.

Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.

Word Count: 4.8k (I love idiots in love...)

Warnings: secret relationship, mentions of hickeys, kissing and heavy petting but no actual smut (a little suggestive and fade to black). Minor character is a misogynist prick and gets his nose broken, though.

A/N: I need everyone to know that this is absolutely inspired by the very first episode of OHSHC. I don't think I will elaborate further. This is also my first fluff, so if you want to see more like this my requests are open!~

My Masterlist✨

Walking into the BAU’s Quantico offices was a simple part of your daily schedule. You usually drove your car from your house to the parking complex, took the elevator up to your floor, put your bag down on your desk and moved immediately to the office kitchen to make yourself an appropriately large mug of coffee. Today, however, you drove your car from Spencer’s apartment, after quite the pleasant night together. The two of you had agreed weeks before to keep your relationship as private as you could.

Which meant that you were now in the office, trying your best to hide both your hickeys and your micro-expressions in a room that was about to fill up with extremely observant FBI profilers.

The turtle-neck sweater was a classic but effective aid, and when paired with the piping hot mug of coffee you were making yourself, you were hoping to feign an oncoming cold of some kind to escape any scrutiny. Spencer had left an hour earlier than you, knowing that it took him longer to commute alone on the metro than it took you in your car, which was probably the best thing for the two of you right now, as after last night, you wanted the whole undivided attention of his hands and his mouth on you.

Taking one last deep breath you walked into the office, and were greeted by the sight of two more new arrivals, your beautiful boyfriend and SSA Derek Morgan. Thankfully, the marks you’d left on Spencer's back the night before were easy to hide under his usual sweater-vest-shirt combo, as he'd probably have a harder time explaining those away. You wrapped your work blazer a little tighter around you and made your way to your desk.

“That’s a big cup of coffee you got there, angel. You have a long night?” Morgan says as you sit down in your seat, trying your best to look at anything but Spencer.

“A long night with a bottle of nyquil and three layers of blankets, if that’s what you mean, yeah.” You shoot back, praying he takes the bait.

“Aww, that sucks sweet-pea. If you need anything, let our resident Doctor know, I’m sure he’ll do his best to make sure you're in peak physical condition once again.” Morgan mocks the younger male, before walking off to his desk.

You happen a glance over at Spencer, and he’s sporting the cutest little blush you’ve ever seen, not needing to hide his embarrassment at the insinuations of his friend.

The two of you share a quick glance, but don’t have to say much else when Hotch walks out of his office announcing there’s another case.

“Meeting room in ten, wheels up immediately after, we've got a serial in Washington State that requires our attention.”

You sigh in relief knowing that a case will be a great way to distract you from somehow messing this up and you grab your stuff and head to the meeting room. Before you can get there though, Rossi cuts you off at the door.

“A word of advice, if I may,” he says, letting your other team members pass in front of him on their way into the briefing before grabbing your attention.

“Sure, why not?” You reply, curious about what the man has to say.

“I’ve never heard of a cold that causes bruising behind your ear. I’d suggest you take yourself and your make-up bag to the bathroom to cover that up.”

You feel yourself grow hot. You’d thought you’d got them all covered with the turtleneck but you had a limited range of vision. Cursing under your breath, you tried to explain to your senior coworker but again he cut off before you could.

“No, I’m not gonna say anything else. Just tell the kid to keep it classy next time, if your gonna wine and dine a lady, you don’t need to make her neck dessert.” You blanched now, all of your previous redness running out of your body.

“You know?”

“I’m very good at my job. However, whatever this is is none of my business, so please, don’t make it my business again any time soon, okay?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll just go down now. Could you-” you gestured vaguely to the meeting room where all your close coworkers were taking their seats, and the older man smiled back at you.

“Consider it done.” You thanked your lucky stars that it was Rossi who had spotted it first, and made a mental note to send Spencer a quick message before you got on the jet.

Y/N: Busted by Rossi. Next time, don’t go full vampire on me. Okay Doc? That was like getting the talk from my dad, but somehow worse.

–X–

After a week in Washington, you wrapped up your case fairly quickly. The flight was long, so you were very much looking forward to finishing the documentation for the case and heading back to your apartment for some much needed alone time with Reid.

The entire week you’d been in the field interviewing witnesses and suspects, and he’d been stuck inside making geographical profiles and aiding Garcia with undigitized file information. It hadn’t helped things that you’d ended up stuck sharing rooms, you with Emily and JJ in one room and him sharing with Hotch, of all people, so you couldn't even sneak out at night to meet each other without arousing suspicion.

It had taken all of your strength not to climb onto the long bench next to him on the Jet and just melt into him, letting the long journey ahead lull you into some much needed sleep. You forced yourself to the other end of the jet, picking up a blanket you’d stored there previously and forcing yourself to shut your eyes.

When you landed, you practically launched yourself off the plane, so eager to get back to your car and drive all the way to your house. But fate had other ideas.

“Everyone, take the rest of the day off, but I want to see you bright and early monday morning working on the required paperwork. Reid, Y/L/N, can you stick around for an extra ten minutes? I just have some supplementary questions I need to ask you.” Hotch announced to the team and you felt your freedom escaping from you once again.

You made it calmly to Hotch’s office, following both your boss and your boyfriend, unsure of where this conversation was going to go.

You sat down on the sofa, and watched as Hotch pulled out two sets of documents.

“I’m not asking questions, and frankly I don’t want to know. But this is standard for all workplace relationships, so I need you to fill out these forms and submit them back to me ASAP.” He said the words calmly, but you felt the panic rise in your chest.

“Did Rossi say something to you?” Spencer managed to recover quicker than you could, neither confirming nor denying your entanglement to your boss.

“No, actually…” Hotch seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure of whether to continue or not. “You talk in your sleep, Reid. You talk quite loudly in your sleep.”

Your head snapped up to your boyfriend and you came face to face with a look of mortification. You heard him mumble a curse under his breath, before he grabbed the papers from Hotch, handing you one quickly.

You filled them out in silence as quickly as possible, trying to not let the blush on your face deepen, and entirely grateful that Hotch was busy ignoring that the conversation had ever happened now, back at his desk filling out his own paperwork.

Spencer grabbed your papers from you when you were finished, put them together with his silently on the older man’s desk, grabbed your hand and swiftly walked you out of the office.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m used to sharing the room with Morgan and you know he sleeps like the dead.” He apologised, but the look on his face was so cute, you couldn’t help but tease him.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” you smirk up at him. “You have got to tell me exactly what that dream was about. I'm very curious”

–X–

After both Rossi and Hotchner had guessed at the nature of your relationship within the space of a week, you were a bit on edge around the office. But a month of busy cases (and thankfully no more room sharing incidents) had restored your confidence in your lying capabilities. You almost felt guilty now, hiding the best part of your life from some of the most important people in your life. But you chose to keep being selfish, knowing that the side of Spencer that you were witnessing now was yours and yours alone.

Basically, you grew over-confident, and when you grew over-confident, you grew sloppy.

After coming back from a particularly rewarding case, a stalking case that you managed to solve before the unsub could turn from attempted murderer to murderer, you went out to celebrate with the team. Hotch and Rossi had begged off again, and Morgan had excused himself because he was giving a self-defence talk the next day at Quantico and didn’t want to show up still suffering from the night before.

So, at the behest of Emily and Garcia, you found Reid was swiftly uninvited, and the team celebration turned into a Girls’ Night Out. It had been a while since you’d been able to let loose, having spent practically every weekend between yours and Reid’s apartments, so you were determined to make the most of the night.

You blame Garcia really. JJ had survived two rounds, but had retreated back to her husband and child when she saw the drinking getting out of hand. Emily had been on virgin drinks the entire night, because she’d drawn the short straw and ended up the designated driver.

Which left you and the wonderful Penelope Garcia going toe-to-toe, or more realistically, tequila-to-tequila as you not so healthily egged each other on. By 1am, Emily had to make the executive decision to put Garcia in a taxi, knowing she would at least be able to function on her own, whilst you were sat like a little mess in the other woman’s arms.

“Emillleeeee!” You giggled as the brunette helped you into her car. “You’re sooooo strong, Emileeeeeeeeee. I love you, y'know.”

“Yeah, Y/N. I gathered that the last time you told me.” She laughed back at you, knowing that she was going to absolutely let you know everything that was said and done that night in the morning.

“Wanna know whoz also realllllllly strong?” You giggled and slapped your hands over your mouth like a schoolgirl talking about her crush.

“Oh, yeah? Go ahead and tell me.”

“Ssspencer,” you said his name and your entire face flushed, “Spencie is really strong.”

Emily rolled her eyes at you, assuming for the time being that you were too drunk to understand what you were saying.

But her reaction obviously didn’t satisfy your drunk self enough, because you pouted a little and then continued.

“Sss true! He’s so strong when he lifts me up and holds me against the wall, it’s so fuckin gooood, Emilleeeeee.”

“Y/N! You're talking about Reid here, I doubt the boy could even hold a girl's hand without breaking a sweat. Let's go get you to bed." She shot back in disbelief.

“You don’t believe me? He is strong, look I can show you the bruises he left on my hips the last time we-”

“OH MY GOD, please stop talking.” Emily cut you off before she heard something she really didn’t want to hear. Still half in disbelief, thinking you were just so far into your cups you’d reached the horny level of alcoholism, she pulled into your apartment complex and quickly helped you out of the car.

“Emilleeeee, don’t leave me!!” You giggled out as she practically frog-marched you to your front door, having commandeered your keys earlier. Before she had the chance to use them however, the door was swinging open, and there was Spencer, in the door, realising he’d just made a huge mistake.

"Would you believe me if I said I were explicitly for work purposes?" He stuttered hopefully, seeing the shell-shocked look on his coworkers face.

“Oh god, she wasn’t lying, was she?” Emily managed to eke out in horror, the thought of the man who was practically her little brother doing anything sexual with anyone sending shivers down her spine.

He didn’t have to reply, however, because you chose that exact moment to launch yourself at your boyfriend wrapping your legs around his waist as he did his best not to tumble over, as your mouth started working its way down his throat.

“Shit,” he grunted out, still unsure about how to handle the situation. “Emily, let’s just pretend you never saw this, deal?”

“Yeah, okay, I think I can do that.” She turned away swiftly, but turned back to add on one final statement, looking almost impressed.

“You know I really didn’t think you were strong enough to do all of that. Huh, wonders abound.”

–X–

Your devastating hangover the next day saved you from the embarrassment of reliving the more scandalous details of your Girls’ Night adventures, but on the parts that Reid filled you in on, you were mortified to say the least.

“I fucked up so bad,” you groaned in pain the next morning in bed with Spencer.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he did his best to reassure you, but you silenced him with one look. “Okay maybe it was that bad, but Emily isn’t going to say anything. So we just continue as usual, right?”

You groaned again, but said no more and burrowed your face further into your partner's chest, hoping that the painkillers he’d bought you earlier that morning would take you out of your misery soon.

But there is no rest for the wicked and not even an hour later you find yourself in an FBI vehicle heading to a police station.

Your sour mood is noted by every single one of your coworkers, but evidently not some of the locals that you’re working with on the case in question. You notice them gawking at the female members of your team almost immediately as you walk into the precinct, and once again you wish you were back in bed away from these creeps. Can a girl not get some peace and quiet on a Saturday morning?

One of them in particular seems hellbent on making his harassment of the three of you a full time fucking job. He gives up on JJ quickly when she mentions her son (“asshole,” you think to yourself), and when he realises that Emily is a bit too dominant for him, he quickly loses interest in her too (“coward”). Which leaves him with all the time in the world to dedicate his energy to you.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, anything you need a big strong man to help you with?” The officer smiles down at you, practically begging you to punch him in the face.

Luckily, his sleeziness doesn’t go unnoticed by both Reid and Morgan, and they make sure to keep you within earshot the entire day, the three of you reading up on the victims' backgrounds whilst your other coworkers head to the crime scene.

“Sorry, chump, if I needed the help of a strong man, there's about five people I’d call before you - and two of them are women.” You shoot back, unwilling to stomach the bullshit of a uniform when you’re trying to do your job.

“Easy now, pretty lady, very high tension today, aren’t we?” He smirks down at you, hand on your chair, almost the perfect distance away for you to headbutt, but you choose to ignore him looking back down at your work. He backs off slightly before trying again.

“Come on now, I’m sure I could do something about that. Maybe fuck that tension right out of you?" And that’s your last straw.

Morgan almost prides himself on having the foresight to grab you before you can launch yourself at the man, ready to scratch his eyes out if he takes it even one step further. What he didn’t see coming at all was Reid throwing the punch first, connecting directly with the chauvinistic officer's nose and flooring him.

“Son of a bitch, I'm not sure I know any woman who'd want to touch you with a ten-foot pole, much less my fucking girlfriend." He seethes out, and Morgan is almost too stunned to speak. He releases you from his grip, and you run to Reid, making note of the way you instantly slot into Reid’s arms, like you were meant to be there.

“Damn pretty boy, nice hit,” is all he can get out, still a little shocked that the two of you had managed to hide this from him for so long.

“You bwoke my noise…” the officer rolled on the floor in pain.

“You’re lucky it was me and not her. And for the record, she's only 'high-tension' because we got interrupted this morning to come and help your sorry ass with a case,” Spencer seethed at the man, only now noticing that his knuckles weren’t faring too well either.

“As entertaining as this is, that's enough, Reid. You take your man and clean him up, Y/L/N, I got this one here, okay?” Morgan swiftly gave you orders, and you let out a sigh of gratitude, knowing that Morgan was going to make sure you got minimal reprimands for this.

“Oh and by the way you two,” he smirked at you a little as you made your way out. “Congratulations.”

–X–

In the name of keeping your relationship to yourself, the two of you had, so far, nearly gotten suspended, filled Emily in on some of the raunchier parts of your sex life, and accidentally shared some of those same details with your Unit Chief to boot. Your only saving grace was that, because you’d sworn everyone to secrecy, and they all seemed to pride themselves on smuggly keeping the information to themselves, they hadn’t started using you as an office-wide conversation started just yet.

All-in-all though you’d needed some time out of the office to relax for a bit, so when JJ came to you at the last minute with a plea for help asking for you to possibly babysit Henry the next night, you’d gladly accepted. Babysitting may seem like a lot of work, but seeing that little angel's face only brought you peace of mind, despite his mother’s protestations that he was only that well behaved for other people.

You were honestly looking forward to spending the night playing with the kid, and you decided it was about time you showed him some classic kids movies, as you packed both Toy Story and The Lion King ready for a fort film night! You were so excited, in fact, that you forgot your previous arrangement with Reid.

“Hey, Y/N, about ready to go? Thanks again for agreeing to carpool out with me tonight, you know how crowded the metro gets on friday nights.” He winks at you, using your regular cover for your biweekly date night, as your stomach drops.

“Oh god, Spencer I totally forgot. I told JJ I’d watch Henry for her tonight, so I’m heading there straight after work so I can watch him whilst she gets ready for dinner with Will.” You guiltily look up at the man whose face has fallen into the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, hey, no problem, it’s okay, tell Henry I said hello.”

Overhearing this, and seeing her friend's obvious disappointment, JJ jumped into the conversation quickly.

“Hey, why don’t you come over as well, Spence? Henry’s been saying he missed his Uncle Spencer, and I was going to order a pizza for Y/N anyways, if you want that?” She suggested, looking between the two of you.

“I bought movies as well?” You added, hoping desperately that he’d say yes, even if you weren’t acting the most subtle about your feelings for him.

“Sure, thanks for that JJ. Let me just grab my jacket.”

Four hours later and the two of you were all played out. You’d entertained incessantly for the first hour, Henry desperately excited to show both of you each and every toy he’d acquired since you’d last been at his house. When the doorbell rang and the pizza arrived, he hadn’t lost steam, and it took you putting on the first of your movies of the night to get him to drop his toys and focus on the pizza and the plot.

And of course, you’d gone and promised him two movies at the beginning of the night, so after wrestling him into pyjamas and making him brush his teeth, you were finally resting again on the sofa. Reid sat at one end, you at the other, with Henry’s sleeping head in your lap, you stroking the little guy's hair.

“I think, and don’t quote me on this, that he’s asleep now, Y/N.” Spencer whispered to you over the movie.

“I know, he just looks so comfortable I don’t want to move him.” You pout at him, looking down at the sleeping angel in your arms.

“Hey, it’s not fair he’s getting all of your attention.”

“Spencer Reid, are you telling me you're jealous of a child right now?” You asked him in a mockingly shocked tone as he stood up from his side of the couch and came closer to you, placing one hand on the arm rest beside you and the other on the couch cushion behind you, effectively boxing you in.

“If I say yes, will you stroke my hair like that?” He smiled down at you, closing the distance between the two of you and giving you the softest sweetest kiss you could have asked for.

When he pulls back you find your lips following his, wanting more, but he just laughs at you and pulls Henry out of your arms, cradling him softly as he carries him upstairs to bed as you think to yourself that you’d do anything to see that scene every night of your life.

On Monday morning, JJ pulls you aside to thank you again, bringing you some of the chocolates she knows you like to show you her appreciation.

“He was a little angel, JJ. A bit energetic and excited but he was so sweet and sat with me the entire way through the movie before he fell asleep.” You gushed about the baby, happily holding your gift.

“You know that little angel did ask me something pretty interesting at breakfast the next morning.” JJ smiles at you, and you encourage her to keep going.

“He asked me if mommy and daddy kiss because they love each other, and so of course we said yes, that we love each other very much, and you know what he said after that?” She laughed a little, and you could feel your cheeks getting hot as you knew you’d been busted once again.

“He said that he was happy because that meant Uncle Spencer and Auntie Y/N must love each other a lot, too.”

You covered your blushing cheeks, not even trying to stammer out a response, knowing that JJ had probably interrogated little Henry about what he’d seen when feigning sleep the weekend before.

“Relax, Y/N, no harm done. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re good for him. He seems a lot,” she paused to think of the right word before continuing, “a lot more like himself than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

You try to hold in the tears that threaten to spill from the touching words, as you stammer out a small thank you.

Another team member knew now, but that had to have been the most successful way you'd revealed your relationship to date.

--X–

This had to have been the worst way you’d revealed your relationship to date.

It was a slow day of office work in the BAU with no consultation case coming up just yet. And with the majority of your paperwork done, you really were just trying your best to stay entertained around the office before you could clock out and go home.

So when you received a message from Spencer that read “copy room down the hall, five minutes,” your interest was piqued enough to make you run there immediately, not even waiting for the appointed time.

You opened the door slightly and a hand shot out and pulled you in so quickly that you almost lost your balance, your hands pushing up against Spencer’s chest as he slammed the door shut as quietly as possible.

“And what are we doing here, Doctor Reid?” You smirked up at him as you felt his arms tighten around your waist, his hands trailing up and down your back before coming to rest a little lower than before.

“Thought you could use a midday pick me up.” He smirked back leaning down to connect your lips, slowly at first, but gaining a feverish speed.

You were only so happy to give back just as you gave, your hands finding their way up to his hair, pushing your chest forward and up against his own, needing to feel closer to him than you had all day.

He gave your ass a swift slap and used your resulting gasp to force his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His mouth not leaving yours for even one second, he walked you backwards until your back hit the makeshift file shelving in the small storage closet. Lifting your leg around his waist he pressed closer into you, and finally removed his mouth from yours before swiftly returning it to your neck to continue his ministrations. He removed one hand from your ass, and worked his way underneath your top to your chest beginning to massage you there as he made to push your bra away from your now aching nipples.

Before he could do so however, the door swung open:

“Reid are you in here- oh holy mother of god.” As soon as the door opened to show the figure of Penelope Garcia standing in the door the two of you jumped away from each other like randy school kids just caught clumsily making out on school grounds. Which you supposed you technically were.

“Are you and your lady friend decent, Doctor, can I remove my hand from my eyes now and live a long and healthy life?” She squeaked out, in surprise, her hands firmly blocking everything from view.

She hadn’t seen you just yet, but there was no getting around this.

“Yes, Penny, you can open your eyes,” you almost winced after you straightened your clothes quickly.

“Y/N!?! With Reid?!” She quickly squeaked out, gaining the notice of a nearby Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss who came rushing in as soon as they heard the frantic tone of their favourite tech analyst's voice.

“I can explain, Pen, please let’s just get out of this closet,” you tried to reason but she was still so shocked she wouldn’t listen.

“Derek, Y/N and Reid!” She motioned vaguely between the two of you.

“I know baby girl, I know.” He tried to reassure her but he couldn’t quite keep the amused look off of his face.

“You KNEW? That Y/N and Reid are getting all hot and heavy in the supply closets now? Emily, are you hearing the words coming from this beautiful man's mouth because I think I have walked into an alternate dimension and I need someone to please bring me back to my real one.” She gasped out.

“Actually, Penelope, I knew too. I think we all did actually.” Emily softly explained.

“You traitors!” she spun around to face the two of you again, and now that she’d calmed down a little, you’d found yourself gravitating towards Reid a little until he’d pulled you into a shy side hug.

“Look at them! They’re canoodling all happily in one of my supply closets, and they didn’t think to share the happy news with me!” She groaned out in faux anger. “Why did you tell Mister Action Man and Little Miss Faked Her Death here before me! Come on, I'm not that untrustworthy!”

“Actually, we didn’t technically tell anyone.” Reid managed to finally get out between Penelope’s moans of anguish, that stupid little smirk you loved so much playing on his face.

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning back to face your three coworkers. “I guess they all just had light bulb moments, and realised themselves, right?”

“God, stop being so cute and in love, it’s making me want to forgive you too easily.” Penelope joked, and you all let out a quiet laugh before deciding to remove yourself from the situation.

“Okay, I’m fine with being the last to know about this, but you better make Aunty Penelope the first in line to hear about any future Baby Geniuses, do you hear me?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #dr spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #idiots in love

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lolahasmoxie · 5 months

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Best Friend (E.M.)

WARNING: angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, sexy times, disgusting fluff, Eddie being too sweet and precious for this world.

NOTES: I'm in a mood. I blame this time of year. Also, the end quote is inspired by the Simpsons. Points if you know the episode it's from.

DIVIDER BY @firefly-graphics

You're at a house party, and Eddie watches you like a hawk across the kitchen.

You're here alone; your boyfriend of two years is nowhere to be seen. You're talking with Robin and a group of girls, and even though you're smiling, Eddie can tell you're faking it. You've been faking it for a week now.

Your friends don't know, but Eddie knows. Your smile hasn't reached your eyes in a week. A trivial thing that most people would miss. But Eddie has been in love with you since you were 15; when you love someone that long, you pick up on things like that.

When you excuse yourself from the group, Eddie follows as you head out into Harrington's backyard. He sees how your shoulders sag once you think no one is around. The way you sit like the world's weight is on your shoulders as you sit in a lounger by the pool.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

Eddie smiles to himself as he takes a seat next to you.

"Should ask you that; you've been off all week."

"What do you know?"

Eddie isn't phased by your snippy remark; it's more bark than bite. He gives you a "Are you serious" look as he scoots a bit closer to you, close enough that the denim of his jeans touches your bare leg.

"You don't have to tell me. But it might make you feel better if you didn't keep it in."

Eddie watches you from his periphery as your body tenses before you let out a defeated sigh.

"He cheated on me."

The words make Eddie want to hunt your man down and pummel him until he can't feel his hands. The last time he wanted to inflict that kind of violence was the last time he saw his old man.

"He's been seeing her for almost six months, and then he said he didn't love me anymore."

"He's a fucking idiot."

"You have to say that you're my best friend."

"When have I EVER said anything that I didn't want to?"

He can see the hint of a smile on your lips as you discreetly try to wipe at your waterline.

"He's an idiot. He didn't deserve you; he never did."

"Keep talking like that, and I might think you were jealous."

Eddie's body stills, his heart dropping into his ass at your words. He had spent years lying. First, to himself over his real feelings and then to you as he tried to hide those feelings as he watched you repeatedly date the wrong guy over and over.

"Eddie."

He doesn't turn to face you when you call his name. Turning will begin a conversation he doesn't know if he's ready to have. The delicate dance he's held you in will disappear, and the possibility that he will end up alone is more than he can bear.

"How long?"

Eddie turns then, brows furrowed in question.

"How long?"

"About 10 minutes after our first conversation in freshman English."

He lets out a heavy sigh, face looking straight ahead as he still refuses to look at you.

"Why didn't you say something? You had so much time?"

"You seemed happy. That's all I ever wanted. It's all I'll ever want."

He turns his head when your hand touches his chin, letting you pull him to meet your eyes. He watches as you study him like you're seeing him for the first time.

"Tell me what you're thinking, Y/N."

"Make me forget."

Eddie gasps softly at your request.

"You don't mean that."

"You think you're the only one hiding their real feelings?"

You're both staring at each other now. Your waterline is still teary, but Eddie is pretty sure this has nothing to do with your now ex. He reaches for your hand, entwining your fingers and feeling elated when you squeeze.

"If we do this, it's going to change everything. There'll be no going back."

"I hope not."

Eddie can't help but chuckle when he sees your smile finally reach your eyes.

"I'm serious; this could ruin everything."

"Oh, Eddie,"

Eddie's breath catches when you lean in closer, your lips right against the shell of his ear.

"It could also be amazing."

Eddie lets out a shaky breath before standing. He stretches out a hand and helps you out of the lounger before he leads you out of the party through the front door. He opens the door of his van for you, leaning over you to buckle you in with a cheeky grin. Then he's behind the wheel, revving the engine as he drives to your apartment without another word.

The sun is barely coming in through your curtains when you wake. Stretching your limbs like a cat, you smile at the soreness in your thighs and between your legs. You reach an arm out and sit up when you feel empty sheets next to you.

The night comes crashing back in stages. The fumbled kisses as he crowded you into your apartment. The look in his eyes as his plush lips worshipped your pussy until you had to drag him up by his hair. The way he whimpered when he was finally buried balls deep inside you. How you had both finally collapsed after what felt like hours. Eddie sending you off to sleep with a flurry of soft declarations of his love.

And now, he wasn't here.

You feel the panic bubble when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. The smell hits you next: freshly brewed coffee. Then Eddie is softly pushing into the room, naked and holding two hot cups of coffee.

"Morning, Sweetheart. Hope I didn't wake you."

You're incapable of speaking, and Eddie stops when he sees you. He puts the mugs down and quickly climbs into bed next to you.

"What's wrong? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You shake your head as you let him pull you close.

"You weren't here, I thought. Never mind, it's stupid."

"Don't say that. Just wanted to make my girl some coffee. I know how grumpy she gets without her caffeine fix."

"Asshole."

Eddie smiles at the remark, all bark and no bite. He hands you your mug, watching you take a small sip as he rests beside you.

"So,"

Eddie freezes at your tone. He knows that tone. It's usually the harbinger of bad news. He steels himself, waiting for you to tell him that last night was a mistake and that he needs to be on his way.

"I'm your girl now, huh?"

Eddie can't hide his smile. It stretches ear to ear as he snuggles in closer to you. His head rests on your shoulder, lips pressing to your skin as he breathes you in.

"I think you've always been my girl."

"Well, I'm glad we're on the same page now."

"Yeah, but now I have this new problem."

Eddie's smile doesn't falter as he sits up. He takes your mug and places it on your nightstand. Before you can speak, he's laying you back down on the mattress, his body moving over yours like a panther.

"I meant what I said in the van last night. What did I say was gonna happen once I stopped the van?"

You sigh as he rests his weight on you. Eddie takes your hands, bringing them above your head. He entwines your fingers, both of you giving reassuring squeezes that this is what you both want.

"You said that you were gonna hug me."

A kiss to your neck.

"You were gonna kiss me."

A brush of his lips against yours.

"And?"

You feel his cock warm and heavy against your pussy.

"You were never gonna let me go."

He kisses you as he enters you, and he has you moaning as the sun rises in the East.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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t-lostinworlds · 5 months

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Competitively Stupid | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: rivals-ish (since childhood) to lovers, some angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.

》 WARNINGS: canon divergent (everyone is alive & well & happy thanks), pet names (sweetheart, baby), shitty parents (on both sides), competitiveness on all accounts, r is basically a counterpart of steve during high school (cheerleading captain, queen of hawkins high, swim team captain, etc.), peer pressure-ish, some stupid decisions & stupider actions, very irresponsible cliff jumping (which doesn't end well), drowning, CPR, injuries, an emotional moment™, love confessions, and a happy, sappy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

A/N: hi! okay, well, it's been a while since i posted a steve fic so i'm kinda nervous ngl. also, not me making it a habit to include swimmer!steve in all my fics from here on out. this was meant to be short & sweet to dust off the cobwebs but lol. super random. i saw a video of someone cliff-jumping & boom, the idea was born. also, not me using the first aid training i learned in college.

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE H. MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

You genuinely have no idea why you were even doing this in the first place.

"There's no way you can do it."

Right.

That's why.

The taunting voice of Steve fucking Harrington was the reason why you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a thirty-foot drop into the dark ocean.

This was supposed to be a relaxing trip with your new found family.

"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?" Robin sighed, so completely over the fact that her two best friends who never got along no matter what she tried, somehow came to an agreement to not listen to her right now.

Not that you could blame her.

You and Steve had been rivals ever since you were kids.

It was what you had always known.

What with narcissistic parents who used their children as pawns to one up each other, you had been conditioned to see him as an enemy from the second you step foot into their home.

Your family was invited into the Harrington residence for dinner as a way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. You recently just moved in, so you didn't know anyone else yet. When you heard that the next-door neighbor had a son who was your age, you had been really excited to gain a new friend.

All that changed when your dad sat you down an hour before, prepping you about how the Harringtons were a respected family in the town, and that you needed to show them you weren't any less than them, if not show them you were better. He drilled it in your brain to be on your best behavior, to be the best and the perfect daughter.

It only got worse when you finally sat down at that dinner table.

The comparisons were endless.

"See, my daughter here is a wonderful gymnast, quite amazing for someone her age."

"How wonderful. Steven here has swimming lessons every weekend. His coach said he might end up in the Olympic team once he's of age."

"Splendid. How about his academics? I'm sure he can take inspiration from my daughter's exemplary grades."

"He's the top of his class. Maybe if they study together, your daughter would be able to catch up in time."

It was harsh, pitting two seven-year-olds against each other—impressionable kids who only wanted to make their mom and dad proud.

But neither your parents nor his truly gave a shit. All they cared about was becoming the best family in the street, if not the whole town.

The sad thing was, those dinners became a regular thing, held alternately between your house and his.

It always looked like a preparation for battle whenever your mom would pull out the finest china in her collection along with the cookbook she only ever used for special occasions.

It was in the guise of cordiality when it was, in fact, an excuse to show off, to make a competition out of everything, a moment to compare who did what best. Those dinners were like monthly scoreboards, tallying up the respective families' recent achievements—and that included yours and Steve's.

Nobody was surprised that the competitiveness stuck with you both.

And it only got worse during high school.

Whether that was something as mundane as winning the popularity contest when running different circles—even going as far as getting crowned the King and Queen of Hawkins High—down to academics and extracurriculars.

Captain of the basketball team. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Prom Queen. Prom King. MVP of the season. Brightest student of the year. Beer pong Queen. Kegstand King. Best summer camp counselor. Lifeguard of the month and it went on and on and on and on.

When he got co-captain for the men's swim team, you rubbed it in his face that you were the captain of the women's team. When you got second place at the science fair, he made sure to rub his first place medal right in your face. When you became president of the student council, you ordered him around to do extra work whenever the basketball team was required to help with community service.

It was a constant back and forth.

There was always a competition between you and Steve Harrington.

And sure, since you graduated, it became subdued. But it was still very much there. Vying on who was the coolest babysitter in your band of ragtags, even fighting to have the title of Robin Buckley's ultimate best friend.

This thing between you and Steve was deeply rooted. So there really wasn't much Robin could do apart from getting in between your frequent squabbles before you started actually killing each other.

In Robin's words, something drastic had to happen for you both to finally wake up and see that this rivalry between you both wasn't what it seemed to be on the surface.

You had no idea what she was even implying.

Now, on a little getaway on the nearest beach you could drive to, the competition started with a race on who could get there first. It wasn't even fair seeing that you weren't the one driving.

The group had split into two, some were in Eddie's van—along with everyone's belongings since he had ample space in the back—while the others were in Steve's Beemer. Since you and Steve couldn't be in the same room together without an argument ensuing, it was a unanimous decision to have you two separated. Nobody wanted to deal with that for hours on the road.

Not that you could blame them, either.

And sure, it was the kids who suggested the race, but with Steve's smug smirk and that arrogant wink he threw once you got into Eddie's passenger seat, you knew it was game on between you too.

Yet despite the metal head being a fast—albeit slightly reckless—driver, he somehow took his sweet goddamn time getting to your destination.

Only when your group arrived at the beach last, did he say something about Steve threatening him to be extra careful with driving because there's important cargo in his van—whatever the hell that meant.

You lost to Steve on that one, but you would argue it was rigged from the start.

The next was a supposed friendly bout on who could build the biggest sandcastle that didn't topple over after a few minutes.

It was boys versus girls with you and him being team leaders. The girls won, obviously and El never used her powers. It was fair and square since the other team mostly argued over everything they could think of and had no teamwork at all. You made sure to point that out to Steve as you watched their sandcastle crumble into ruins.

Another one was beach volleyball. Same leaders as before, but you get to pick the members of your teams this time. Steve made it his mission to pick the tallest of the bunch. Still, it wasn't the advantage he thought it was because it ended up being one point too close.

Your team would've won if Steve wasn't such a dramatic asshole.

It was truly an accident. When you spiked that ball, you were not aiming for his face. He simply thought it was a good idea to catch the ball with it. Besides, he was distracted, flirting with some random girl in a bikini who was passing by, right in the middle of the game.

How was it your fault that he wasn't paying attention?

He made sure to oversell his injury after that, curled up on the sand as the girl fussed over him. But you saw that smirk on his face. You would've hit him again—definitely not by accident this time—if you weren't busy arguing with Robin about the point deduction. She said it was only fair since you hit the ball when she hadn't blown her imaginary whistle yet.

You decided to let it go when Steve commented on you being a whiny sore loser.

Unfortunately, the competition was ending with who could make jumping off a cliff and into the ocean look the coolest—adults only, despite the groans of protest from the mischievous bunch.

Eddie offered to stay behind and watch the rascals. When teased, he simply said he didn't want to test Death today.

His comment didn't help your nerves.

Robin said she was only coming purely as a voice of reason. She'd been saying nonstop how it was a horribly stupid idea, that there really was no need to be doing this in the first place.

But Steve wasn't backing down, so you weren't going to either.

So once again, it was only you and him.

As it always had been.

He volunteered to go first, throwing in a comment about rushing back up the cliff's edge before you could take your turn because he wanted a front-row seat for when you'd chicken out.

It only made you want to do it more.

His dive was smooth, almost flawless, you admit. He even showed off with a little flip near the end. It didn't take long for him to swim back to the shore, either. His years of training as a swimmer were obviously paying off.

But you trained just as much if not more than he had.

The only difference was, adrenaline didn't fuel you as much as it did Steve. So instead of getting all powered up looking down at a cliff's edge like he was, you were terrified.

But who wouldn’t get scared looking down at harsh waves crashing against sharp and jagged rocks? There was no margin for error here because one wrong slip and you'd be dead.

Still, if Steve could do it, you could do it better.

You weren't about to lose to his stupid ass.

"I'm not listening to him," you argued back, taking in a shaky breath as you took a step.

"He's doing reverse psychology!" she squeaked. "So you doing it is still listening to him!"

"I'm fine, Robs, I can do it," you mumbled, a slight questioning lilt at the end of your sentence.

"Look, sweetheart, it's okay to admit defeat," Steve said, cocky voice with an even cockier smile as he crossed his toned arms against his bare chest. His hair was still damp, quick to climb back up so he could get his front-row seat as he promised.

But you weren't chickening out.

Never.

"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you lost to me so, it shouldn't sting as much."

You ignored him.

Instead, you took another step, the tips of your toes now hanging over the edge.

You can do this. Wipe that smug smirk off his face. You got this.

"Listen, you don't have to do—"

"Shut it, Harrington," you growled.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, counting from three, two, one…

You jumped.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

He shouldn't have pressured you like that.

The jump wasn't deadly, per se, but it also wasn't exactly deemed the safest, especially if you weren't an expert in any sort of way.

And he didn't want to say it out loud because if he did, he knew it would only push you to do it more just to prove him wrong.

But Steve could see how scared you were.

He was already dropping the act, voice laced with concern as he started telling you that he wasn't worth all of this, that he was stupid and that you were always going to be better than him.

But, obviously, you didn't listen.

You simply jumped.

You and your stupidly competitive ass.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, rushing to the edge of the cliff, tensely watching your falling figure disappear into the water with a splash.

"You two are complete idiots."

"Shut up," Steve gritted, never looking away from the water. Yet any annoyance was quickly overpowered by sheer worry as he scanned the deep blue for anything.

There was no sign of you.

"Like seriously! It's like I'm the only one with a brain cell here!"

"Come on, come on, come on," Steve mumbled, completely ignoring Robin when you still hadn't emerged to the surface. "Come on, Y/N, don't scare me like this."

"Uh, Steve?" Robin asked after a moment, carefully looking over the cliff before shooting him a worried glance. "You look anxious and you being anxious is making me nervous."

"She hasn't come up," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.

It was nearing a minute.

"Maybe you didn't see her?"

"I haven't taken my eyes off the water, Buckley," he gritted, too harsh and uncalled for since Robin didn't do anything wrong.

But he was panicking.

A minute and thirty seconds.

"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it. You're an amazing swimmer," he whispered encouragingly, hoping some sort of magic would let you hear him underwater all while saying it aloud for his own sanity.

Two minutes.

You could never hold your breath any longer than that.

Steve knew because he always won that competition.

And that was in a calm pool.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, gearing up to dive after you. "I don't think she's coming up!"

"Okay! Okay," Robin rushed, panicking. "Maybe she's already on the shore. We should go down now and see—"

Steve didn't listen.

He jumped right after you.

The biting cold was awakening.

Still, it was the absolute fear of losing you that was keeping him alert.

He ignored the sting of the salty ocean water in his eyes as he frantically searched for you, his heart beating hard and fast, struggling for oxygen all while fearing for your safety.

Steve didn't know which came first, relief or dread when finally found you, aimlessly floating and unconscious under the deep blue.

He swam to you as fast he could, securely hooking his arm under your shoulder and dragging you up to the surface.

Steve always knew that adrenaline can give you a random boost of strength when needed. He simply didn't expect that to be proven true when he was carrying your unresponsive body in his arms as he brought you to the shore.

He gently placed you on your back on the sand, cupping your face as he checked for any injuries.

You were so cold.

"Hey, hey, wake up," he begged, grabbing your shoulders to try and shake you awake.

Nothing.

"You didn't have to make the jump, you idiot. Why do you always want to prove me wrong," he scolded with no ounce of anger, only worry. He started tapping your cheek frantically. "Come on, wake up!"

Still no response.

"Dammit, Y/N, why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn," he scolded, his voice shaking in fear, his chest tightening as he pressed two fingers against your pulse point.

His own heart stopped when he couldn't feel yours.

And you weren't breathing.

Steve tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked now, he wouldn't be able to give you the aid that you direly need.

"Come on, Harrington. You know what to do. You trained for this," he mumbled to himself, getting into the proper position to give you CPR.

He gently cupped your forehead with his left hand, his other two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up.

"You're going to be okay," he whispered, pinching your nose before slotting his lips against yours.

Breathing into your mouth, one, two, he watched your chest rise as it filled up with air, only for it to settle back down without coming back up again. He quickly kneeled straighter, locking his fingers together and placing the heel of his left hand in the middle of your chest, pushing down with enough pressure to try and get your heart to start again.

"One, two, three, four, come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," he mumbled, easily finding the right rhythm, his first aid training as a lifeguard coming back to him like it was second nature.

Still, he never wanted to use this skill in a real-life situation, much less use it on you.

It was the longest thirty counts in his life.

Check for a pulse. Check for breathing.

Still nothing.

"Goddammit, Y/N, come on!" he growled, blinking back the tears as he pressed his mouth against yours again.

Two rescue breaths.

Thirty chest compressions.

Steve repeated the cycle over and over. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his knees were burning as the rough sand dug deeper into his skin, and his arms were starting to get sore, tiredness slowly covering his aching muscles.

But he'd rather die first than give up on you now.

"Steve—"

"Call for help, Robin!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. When he didn't hear any movement, he yelled, "Don't just stand there! Go!"

He was going to apologize for being an asshole later. For now, he needed you to fucking breathe.

"Come on, come on, please," he begged, leaning back down to give you two more rescue breaths. "Breathe for me, baby, please."

Thirty chest compressions.

"Trying to prove me wrong when I've always been wrong, you idiot."

Five, six, seven—

"Sweetheart, come on," he choked back a sob. "Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid, huh? You know Robin can't do it alone."

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen—

"And you're really going to leave me alone to watch our kids?"

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—

"Y/N, baby, please, I can't live without you," he whimpered.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—

Steve felt his breath leave his lungs when you finally gasped for air.

He quickly turned you to your side, rubbing your back as you choked out all the ocean water that got into your system.

"There you go, you're okay," he whispered, whether to reassure you or himself, he didn't even know anymore. All he was focused on was making sure you were going to be okay.

"S-Stevie?" you coughed out the nickname that was only ever used by you.

It was the equivalent to his nickname for you—sweetheart.

Names that started out to annoy each other but the more often it was used as time passed, it only managed to grow into an endearment that held something warm underneath it. You both were quick to realize that the nicknames you had for each other weren't out of spite anymore.

Neither of you simply addressed it.

"Steady, sweetheart, I'm right here," he reassured, hurriedly getting into your line of sight to stop you from trying to turn around to face him. He gently cupped your cheek, offering you a soft smile when your gaze found him. "I'm not going anywhere."

You nodded as best as you could, your eyes clinging onto his brown ones only for them to screw shut when a shiver ran through your whole body.

"C-Cold," you stammered.

"I know, I know, come here," he said softly, guiding you to sit up before quickly settling behind you. He gently pulled you closer between his legs, his chest pressed against your back as he blanketed his body over yours, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.

You turned to face him slightly, burying your face into his neck only for you to wince at the slight movement. He quickly tried to steady you again, checking over you twice to look for any visible injury. But he couldn't find any.

"Tell me what hurts," he asked, pressing his lips against your cold forehead as he fully wrapped his arms around you.

"A-Ankle," you whimpered in pain, your grip on his waist tightening and God he hated that sound so much.

You must've rolled it when you jumped, and having landed on it when you reached the water, it definitely made it worse.

"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured, littering kisses against the side of your head to try and keep your mind off it. "Robin already called for help, they should be on their way, alright?"

You gave him a small nod, inching even closer to him, seeking as much warmth from him as possible. Your cold breath was tickling his skin but he didn’t care. Hell, you could be breathing fucking ice and he still wouldn’t give a shit.

As long as you were breathing.

"I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

"I-I'll try," you whispered.

"First to fall asleep is the biggest loser," he mumbled, squeezing you slightly when he felt your eyes flutter close. "And you wouldn't want me to win this, babe, because I'll be a little shit about it."

"Not f-fair," you choked out a laugh.

"It's plenty fair," Steve chuckled tearfully, ignoring the sudden wetness on his cheeks. He hugged you tighter instead. "So stay awake or you'll lose to me. Again."

"Right there! They're right over there!"

Steve had never been so grateful to hear Robin's voice.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"So are you finally going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Steve questioned back, unable to take his eyes off of you, soundly sleeping in a hospital bed with your foot now wrapped in a cast.

The doctor had already checked everything and thankfully, there weren't any further injuries apart from your twisted ankle.

Now, all you needed was to rest and recover.

"That you've been in love with her this whole time."

Steve sighed, squeezing your hand before turning to look at his best friend.

"I'm not in love with her, Robs."

"Right," she scoffed, raising a knowing brow. "Because jumping off a cliff with zero hesitation so you could save her is totally normal behavior for someone you claim you hate."

"I never said I hated her," he argued, and it was true. He couldn't think of a single moment where he hated you.

"Yeah, well, you two definitely don't act like you like each other."

"Does she annoy and frustrate the shit out of me? Yes. But I never hated her," he admitted.

Steve didn't know what it was exactly, maybe it was his tiredness muddling his brain, maybe it was from everything that happened in the last couple of hours finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the overwhelming need to confess everything into the open before it was too late—and it almost had been. Either way, he found himself suddenly spewing out all the things that he always just kept to himself.

"She's also been the most constant person in my life, you know? Hell, we basically grew up together. I can't just not care about her," he continued, memories flooding his system before he could even stop it. "She's been so ingrained in my life, her and the cute dresses she wore at those stupid dinners our parents always dragged us to. Her and her stupid competitions whenever our babysitters would bring us to the park together. Her and that stupid dance she always did whenever she won at anything even if it was my expense—she always does this cute little wiggle whenever she won, and that never left her even as we got older," Steve chuckled at the thought.

"And fuck, don't even get me started with how similar our parents are. She's the only one who will always get me when it comes to that," he continued. "And yeah, we compete a lot, but there was no hatred between us. Maybe at the start but all that went away when we learned that whatever our parents were feeding us was bullshit—that they were bullshit.

"And fine, did I sometimes get so annoyed whenever she got a new boyfriend? Yeah. But only because she always had this bad habit of dating fucking assholes. I don't know where she got those dickheads from but every time I see a glimpse of her crying by her window at night I swear to fucking God I would've killed every single one of those assholes if she asked," he gritted, slumping down in his seat with a sigh.

"She deserves to be treated right, you know? She's already experiencing so much shit at home, she doesn't need any more of that anywhere else. Sure, she irritates me to no end but that doesn't mean she's not a sweet girl who always cried whenever some random pet commercial came on the TV during the holidays. Does her competitiveness drive me up the wall? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean I don't feel so fucking proud of her whenever she wins another medal or achieves another milestone. And yeah, I wonder about how she's doing, if she's taking care of herself, if she's getting enough sleep between her work and classes. But that's only because I worry, you know?

"And maybe I do think about her a lot but that doesn't mean I'm in love with…"

Steve blinked.

Well fuck.

"Wow," Robin marveled. "You're stupider than I thought."

"He hit his head as a kid, cut him some slack."

Steve paled at the sound of your voice, swiftly turning red at the thought that you probably heard all the things he said.

He turned to face you, groaning in annoyance when he saw the smug smile on your lips. "You've been awake this whole time?"

"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Robin sang, quickly slipping out of the hospital room and closing the door behind her.

"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Enough to say you're stupid," you hummed.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. "I'm not the one who jumped off the cliff and almost died just to prove a fucking point."

"Yeah, well, I guess we're both stupid then," you snorted.

He shrugged. "I guess we are."

"Jesus, you don't have to act so tense. I mean, you've already given me a mouth-to-mouth, we've practically made out already," you scoffed playfully. "I honestly thought I'd die first before swapping spit with you yet here we are."

It was your attempt at alleviating the tension, to throw in a funny quip. But with everything still so fresh in his mind, Steve simply couldn't take it well.

"Don't fucking joke about that will you?" he snapped, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

The silence that followed only made the tension worse.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Steve immediately felt bad.

"No, no, no. You didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize," he sighed, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just—"

He stopped himself, chewing on his bottom as he looked everywhere but at you when he felt the tears well up again.

"Will you come here?"

Steve took a calming breath and did as you asked, moving his chair closer but didn't attempt anything else than that.

"Stevie," you called when he still wouldn't look at you.

Harshly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he lifted his head. You smiled at him sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to come even closer.

"You scared me back there," he croaked, taking your hand with a squeeze.

"I didn't mean to," you softly said, remorseful and apologetic even though you didn't have to be.

"I know," he murmured, pressing your warm palm against his cheek as he shot you a glare. "Just don't do that again."

"Promise," you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Steve leaned closer into your touch. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you," you hummed, brows furrowing in thought. "When Marcus got that black eye, you said it was because he was playing dirty on one of your games." You tilted your head knowingly. "That wasn't true, wasn't it?"

Steve shrugged. "He hurt you."

"It was a small bruise on the arm, Steve," you reasoned.

"He shouldn't be giving you a fucking bruise in the first place," he growled, the memory bringing back the same anger he felt when he first saw that bruise. The soft tapping of your finger against his cheek calmed him down. "Sorry."

"Did you lose on purpose to get him expelled?"

"What? No!" he scoffed, offended, rolling his eyes when you giggled. "I tried so fucking hard to win that fight, you know, for you."

"You've always been protective of me," you hummed, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

"Don't think I didn't know it was you who dyed that poor girl's hair green that one year in middle school summer camp," he retaliated.

It was a sharp and piercing scream that woke up the whole camp that morning. Everyone rushed out of bed to see what was going on only to find a girl who once was blonde was now sporting bright green hair in the middle of the crowd, crying her eyes out.

Steve would've thought it was only some silly prank if he didn't know who the girl was. But he did. Because the day before he tried to ask her to be his girlfriend, only for her to turn him down in the most embarrassing and humiliating way possible.

It wasn't difficult for him to find out who the culprit was since he immediately noticed how you kept hiding your hands in your pockets for the next few days after the incident.

The counselors quickly found out that the little menace—whoever she was—decided to use permanent dye on the poor girl's hair instead of something washable.

Your green palms colored you oh so guilty.

"She called you pathetic and gross in front of everyone!" you argued, pouting. "You looked like you were about to cry and I hated it."

Steve's heart warmed at that, a smile on his face despite rolling his eyes. "I wasn't about to cry."

"Yeah well," you shrugged, eyes trained on your intertwined fingers, your thumb playing with his. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be mean to you."

"Hmm," he agreed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. "I guess we've always been there for each other, huh?"

"I guess so," you giggled, cupping his cheek and tugging him closer.

He stood up from his seat, following your lead until he was pressing his forehead against yours.

"Thank you for saving my life, Steve," you whispered, eyes turning glossy as so many emotions covered your irises, the weight of what almost happened catching up with you.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he said sincerely, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "I'd do it over and over again in a heartbeat."

You nodded, sniffling, "Still, thank you."

Steve wasn't able to argue some more when you all but kissed him.

The first time Steve felt your mouth on his was a horrible experience considering he was trying to keep you alive.

Now, everything was the complete opposite.

A kiss that was careful but sweet, a hint of nervousness and excitement all the same, completely unhurried yet burning with passion as his lips molded against yours.

But still, it felt like that first gasp of air—a finally.

"I'm in love with you, too, by the way," you murmured as you pulled away, your warm breath tickling his lips.

"Thanks for clarifying," he chuckled, eyes laced with adoration, unable to stop his smile from growing wider, warmer. "I couldn't figure that out from the kiss."

"I mean, you are kinda stupid," you teased.

"We're on that same boat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I'm sure Robin would remind us about that every single day now."

"Unfortunately," you groaned playfully. "God, she gets annoying when she's right."

"Tell me about it," he hummed, brushing his lips against yours, moving away when you chased it.

You whined.

Steve didn't hesitate to dive back in.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can <3

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#cs #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #my writing

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hueningsloverr · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ kiss her you fool !

pairing: established relationship!beomgyu x reader summary: dating beomgyu was rocky, simply because he didn't know how to kiss you. or how to ask. or when. luckily, he had his friends to guide him through it. word count: 1.0k extra: inspired by kids that fly's 'kiss her you fool'! apart of my valentines day series

beomgyu was not one to do things simply because it was asked of him. he 'marched to the beat of his own drum', or so his mom always told him growing up. and while it was his best quality, it was also his fatal flaw.

"no, we haven't kissed yet." he groaned, throwing his head back on his pillow as kai and taehyun laughed at him. it was an embarrassing thing to admit. six months dating, and he still hadn't worked up the courage to ask to kiss you.

he'd never kiss you without asking. his mom had raised him 'right'. and soobin would kill him if he tried.

kai continued snickering, even after beomgyu had practically rocket launched his pillow at the younger teen.

kai of all people was not one to laugh at others romantic endeavours, not with the state of his own love life.

"you gotta just ask man!" taehyun howled, falling back on himself as he clutched his sides, laughing so loudly beomgyu worried his parents would hear.

"you try to have a significant other!" beomgyu shot back, "a partner, who at that, is the prettiest person alive!"

kai's voice held a mocking tone, and then it was taehyuns turn to harass the boy. "it can not be that hard man!" kai giggled, as if he was a teenage girl on the phone. "just be like, hey, your lips and my lips would make an awe- ow! taehyun!"

taehyun grinned, turning his attention back to beomgyu. "the idiot's not wrong. just be polite. she's probably waiting for you to kiss her."

bviously, beomgyu was aware of that fact. he had long since stopped making excuses of his behalf, at this point it was simply a lack of guts. he had the rest of his life to live, so what if he embarrassed himself once in high school?

"don't be afraid dude," kai chimed in, and taehyun had half a mind to tell the teen to shut it. yet, kai was kai. he always made somewhat decent points at the end of the day. "dreams aren't found, they're made."

taehyun cackled, an exasperated, unbelievable, cackle. "shut up man!" he laughed, but beomgyu drowned out his younger two friends. they both were right.

quickly grabbing his phone, he texted you to meet him outside your house in 10 minutes. and with that he set off.

"i'll be back in a bit, you guys can leave whenever you want." he mumbled to his friends as he grabbed his coat and scarf off of his desk chair and sped out the door.

kai and taehyun were left completely clueless, but still giggling like mad men.

a quick walk through the park by your side, you practically freezing the entire way, was all beomgyu needed for a confirmation. he knew in most situations in life, he had endless attempts, yet somehow in that one moment it felt like he only got one chance.

stopping briefly at the steps to your house, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. he had half the mind to check it, but then he noticed you walking away.

"hey," beomgyu called out, his hand loosely reaching to grasp your wrist. it felt like every cliche moment in a movie ever. you always liked watching those movies this time of year. when the snow piled up so high outside it was a surprise school wasn't canceled, and the only thing left to do was watch movies.

"hm?" you grinned, turning back to look at your boyfriend. the streetlamp above gave you an etherial glow, and beomgyu felt his heart stop beating for a moment.

"don't go just yet." he whispered, inching closer. "there's more i want to say - more i want to do."

a soft look of surprise coated your face, and suddenly it was far too hot for it to be the middle of february. "what was it you wanted to say?" you mused, leaning closer to your boyfriend.

he felt his brain shut down.

there was no where to go.

no place to hide.

life presented him with two options, and neither seemed truly appealing. he could either let you go, or ask.

"i really like you," he blurted out, noticing how antsy you had become. you looked as uncomfortable as he felt - how fitting. "and i was wondering, you know, since we've been going out for so long…"

you leaned in again, as if following so closely behind his words you could guess what would come next.

"can i kiss you?"

your words caught him off guard. it wasn't supposed to go down like this - he was supposed to be the one to ask. it was supposed to be his romantic gesture.

beomgyu felt as the heat rushed to his cheeks, and he felt like all his defences had been knocked down. "oh," he managed to let out, eyes wide yet still so soft. all he could do was nod; a hesitant nod that said it all.

'i've been waiting for this'.

and before he could react, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a gentle yet determined kiss. his heart skipped a beat as he melted into the embrace, his mind going blank as he lost himself in the moment.

pulling away, beomgyu let out a soft gasp, and he watched in awe as you melted away from his grasp, up the steps, and into the warmth of your home. he could slowly feel the world around him shift back into focus, and the cold breeze began to penetrate his jacket.

it was still february after all.

and so, as he made his way back home, stumbling like an idiot drunk in love, he finally remembered to check his phone. his home screen was littered with notifications - mostly mundane things like a 394 day streak on duolingo to uphold, and pinterest board recommendations - but the most prominent was the oldest.

a simple text from taehyun that read "kiss her you fool!"

authors note: part 3!!! i've yet to have my first kiss... this may be wildly inaccurate. it most likely is. idk. also this is so late oh my god i meant to post it on like tuesday or wednesday but kept rewriting the kiss part😭

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whxtedreams · 8 days

Text

Those damn puppy eyes

Inspired by rupi kaur poem

They should feel like home A place that grounds your life Where you go to take the day off - The one (the sun and her flowers - page 180)

word count: 1.5k

Pairing: neighbour!joel x reader

tags: sad!reader, reader just needs a hug, crying, comfort!, hurt & comfort, cuddles, soft kiss, mentions of love, rejection letter, joel miller (pedro) and his puppy eyes will be the death of me, two idiots in love, joel really loves cookies, joel is the king of comfort, soft!joel, photos are for aesthetic purposes only, reader has no description

A Poet's love masterlist - Main masterlist

Your feet are plastered to his front porch, your hands heavy as they hover at his door. You want to knock, to hear his footsteps beyond the door as they race towards you. You want to hear his voice as he calls out that he’s coming. You want to see the smile on his face when he realises that it’s you that’s standing before him.

What you don’t want is for him to see you in the state you’re in. You don’t want him to see your tear stained cheeks. The whites of your eyes strained red from the time spent crying on your couch. You don’t want him to feel your damp sleeves, where you’ve tried to wipe away the evidence of your own emotions.

Your chest burns, your eyes sting and your heart shattered.

But you want him.

What you wanted was to walk into his house like any other night, to hear Sarah upstairs listening to her music on full volume as Joel shoves a pre-made dinner in the oven with his headphones on, drowning out his daughter's music. You want to scare him as you wrap your arms around his middle while he has his back to you, feel him jump in your arms. Hear his huffed laugh as he turns around and kisses your forehead, telling you once again you’re going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

Tonight however there is no music playing in the house. There’s no pre-cooked dinner and there’s no possibility of a heart attack.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you reach for it, opening the text from Joel.

OMW home now darl. Sarah wanted to stick around and chat to her friends. Her team won tonight so shes a little high on adrenaline, get ready for her talking ur ear off tonight ;) bringing home pizza, cant wait to hear about ur day!

A tear slips down and lands on the screen and a soft sob rattles through your body. Of course he’s not home, how could you forget? Sarah had her semi finals tonight, she had been so excited about her first big game last night.

You shove your phone back in your pocket and walk the short distance back home, not wanting to ruin Sarah’s night.

Your phone buzzes again where it sits on the coffee table in your lounge room. The pillow you lay your head on is damp, your tears soaking the material as you lay in silence, your heart heavy. You know it’s Joel, wondering where you are but you don’t want to answer him.

The letter sits beside your phone. The letter you thought was your acceptance into the culinary school you applied to but turned into informing you they had declined your application.

Your front door opens and Joel’s voice fills the air, the sound of his boots shuffling on the doormat as he rids his shoes of any dirt before he enters your house. “Babe?” He calls out as he shuts the front door. “You get any of my texts? Got me all worried-” His words stop as his feet still in the doorway of the living room as he sighs.

He walks around the couch and gently lifts your legs off the couch before he sits down with a huff, placing your legs over his lap as he settles on the couch. His fingers run over your legs and he sits in silence as you sniffle into your pillow.

“The letter came today?” He asks after a moment, already knowing the answer and you nod without looking at him.

His hands still on your legs before they squeeze and you finally tilt your head to look at him. “No matter what they say, you know Sarah and I are always going to be proud of you. You’re amazing at what you do darl’, they’d be fools not to see that.”

You nod, a lopsided smile forming on your face before you sink back into the pillow. “I know, I just really wanted this.”

Joel leans over you then, pushing you slightly to fit behind you on the couch. His arms wrap around you as you shift to make room for him. His chin rests on your shoulder, his legs wrapping around yours and pulling you tight against him.

He pulls you close to him and wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tightly as the warmth of his touch sinks through you. You sink into him, your mind and body relaxing as his arms hold you close to his chest, the heat of his body surrounding and grounding you as the weight of the world seems to slowly lift off your shoulders. Your body shudders at the touch, as though he's somehow absorbing all of your negative emotions and easing the anxieties that lay heavy in your heart.

“I know you did and I’m so sorry baby. We’ll find you another school, yeah? Someone that appreciates your talents.” His mouth kisses your shoulder as he talks and your body relaxes, believing his words once more.

He always does this, always seems to know just what you need, just what will make you feel better, better than any medicine or solution or remedy could ever do. A simple touch is more than enough to calm your worry and soothe your anxieties, to remove all of your worries and fears and to convince you that everything will end up right, as it should be. A few words and a tender smile and you're able to believe in the things that he says, able to believe in the fact that everything will work itself out and that you have nothing to fear.

“I love you.” You sigh and you feel his body shake behind you, a soft chuckle in your ear.

"I love you too, darl," he says, his hand rising over your chest and landing just over your heart, your hand rising to meet his and interlocking your fingers with his. The warmth of his body is enough to overwhelm you, the love that you feel rising through you as you hold onto his hand and feel his touch on your chest, your hand gripping tightly as your heartbeat speeds up slightly at his touch.

You move your head and look in his eyes that glisten with adoration as he looks at you.

Those damn puppy eyes.

He leans in and lands a soft kiss on your lips, the gentleness of the kiss enough to make your breath catch in your throat, your hand tightening around his as all your thoughts and emotions flood from your mind at once. Every time he kisses you, it feels like perfection, as though your souls are meant to come together in this moment, two halves finding each other in the space and the time where they belong. He feels like home, wherever he is becomes safety and warmth and comfort that fills you from the inside to the outside and back again.

He leans back, breaking the kiss and leaning his body back as well. His grip doesn't let up, however, and he looks down at you with a warm smile, a look of genuine affection and care and tenderness on his face as he watches you. You never want to leave his embrace but your stomach aches from hunger and you smile back up at him.

“You mentioned pizza?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, pushing himself up from behind you, a mock offended look on his face and a slight pout that borders on the verge of a smile. "Oh, so you did get my texts?" His voice is light and playful, a tone that makes the pout of his mouth even more evident as he tilts his head to the side slightly, giving you a look of mock disappointment.

“I’m sorry, what can I do to make it up to you?” You ask as he pulls you up from the couch and pulls you right up against his side, his arm wrapping around you tightly as he pulls you close,

His smile turns wicked as his lips ghost over your ear. “I think you know exactly how to make up to me.”

Your smile mirrors his as your turn to face him once more.

“Chocolate chip cookies, right?”

His eyes close as he leans his head on your shoulder, a soft moan escaping his chest as his body relaxes. He leans his head back slightly, his eyes opening again, but his eyes are soft and warm as he looks at you, a fond smile on his face. "You know me so well," He whispers to you, the softness of his voice enough to make you melt into him as he holds you tight.

And you suppose that you do know him, that you know him as well as you can know the feeling of home. The warmth that you feel when you are with him, the comfort that spreads through you whenever he is close, all feels like home. He is home to you, the place where you feel as though you can let down your guard and be your true self, the place where you can take a deep breath and relax.

Because he’s the only one for you.

Notes

it's been over two months since i've updated this fic yikes im sorry. These two have my heart and i just want the best for them.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel fanfic #joel x reader #tlou #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal

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onlyseokmins · 10 months

Text

the devil wears baby blue • h.j.s.

Pairing: joshua hong x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol Warnings: joshua hong himself 🚩🚩, swearing, alcohol, reader is a menace and tease too i'm ngl, grinding, groping, slight exhibition kink, degradation, name-calling, objectification, FINGERS (all of it fingering, riding, etc), mentions of knife/surgery, choking, wbk but major hints to big cock josh 💔, marking, licking, alluding to devil imagery uwu, roleplay sort of but not really, kind of public sex acts + a mirror, manhandling, lil slaps, dangerous fashion decisions + "fun" clothing shenanigans during sex ig????, mentions of car sex and oral sex (male rec.), dirty talk (joshua won't stfu), edging, lil bit of pain kink if you squint ❤️‍🩹, and tons of banter/insults, is there a thing like a wealth kink??? - as always lmk if i missed smth WC: 7k A/N: *taps mic* would love to thank @onlymingyus and @duhnova for proofing, hyping, and supporting me on this. also ofc a huge honorary shout out to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for the constant cheering and screeching at me in and out of dms - hope you enjoy this hehe. idk if jackie will see this but her watch post(s) helped re-inspire me to attack this wip. and finally blowing kisses to the joshushushus in my inbox, i hope you'll like this! ps if anyone recognizes where the last dialogue is from, you receive a kiss on the forehead from me and get to spend one night with joshua!! 😏

↪ this is a loosely based prequel to idiot

Seungkwan's hand lays steady on your back, guiding you through the crowd much more efficiently than you could have on your own. He has a way of navigating through the waves of people with practiced ease whereas you would rather just be swept away. It's why you enjoy going to the club with him, especially one as crazy as tonight's.

You would think you were still on the dance floor with how many people are bustling around you, mingling and giggling just as much on the sidelines as they do moving to the music. Drinks in hand, they chat and flirt with one another so it takes nearly twice as long to make it to the bar than you think it really should.

"This better be worth it," you shout directly into your friend's ear despite how close you are to him. "For the amount of times my feet have been stepped on!"

There's a sharp pinch from his fingers that snuck to your side. "Told you not to wear those stupid shoes."

Though you can't exactly hear it, you can see how his pouty lips purse out in a huff. He's also grumbling under his breath and you're able to catch bits and pieces. Things like, "won't matter" and "swept off your feet anyways" and "don't blame me" make you roll your eyes.

"Acting like this is my social debut with the prince of wales."

"Someone's been watching too much Bridgerton. And with how often you fail to come —" he's interrupted by the loud thumping of the bass, "makes sense."

"You can't possibly compare me against your standards, Mister Social Butterfly. You know everyone… and you've probably screwed a lot of them as well."

Seungkwan can only guess a gist of what you actually say and is therefore mildly tempted to let you get lost in the sea of people like he knows you'd rather prefer. But he's finally made it all the way over to what seems like an impenetrable social circle, though the group readily parts to make room for the two of you to squeeze in. So, he'll have to bring you along for the adventure.

"Hey there!"

"Hello!"

"Fancy seeing you here."

"I know, right?"

Greetings are easily interchanged. Most of them are familiar faces — friends of your own or people you've gotten to know simply through Seungkwan's ever-growing collection of new instagram posts.

Jeonghan's got some poor new soul to flirt with again and Seokmin looks like he'd rather be at home watching cooking videos. Vernon is wearing headphones of all things while Seungcheol has a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. And you instinctively know Mingyu has to be up to no good because you don't see or hear him.

Not that you're actually paying that much attention to the same-old-same people, focus naturally drawn to the tall man standing next to Wonwoo. Light brown hair curls just beneath his ears, shaggy enough that the urge to run your fingers through and imagine what the tug of strands between them might feel like consumes you. It comes as a shock, considering that Jeonghan's had the same style before and you've never felt like this.

You drink in the baby blue shirt that compliments the mystery man's skin tone, top buttons left undone to showcase the delicate silver around his throat and framed by collar bones. The fabric's elegance belies the strength of the body it clothes, material straining tastefully in the tiniest bit over a broad chest and wide shoulders. Sleeves rolled up to accentuate the flex of his forearm down to the long, long fingers wrapped all the way around the glass of alcohol held between them.

"That's Joshua Hong," Seungkwan supplies helpfully though he can't hide how smug he sounds observing you and shares a knowing look with Vernon who snickers.

"Joshua Hong," you repeat and enjoy how easy his name sounds and feels coming off your tongue. "Is that so?"

"Yeah and to my knowledge, he's extremely single."

"Don't tell me that's how you introduce me to other people."

He feigns innocence. "Can't recall but even if I did, bet it's going to work in your favor. Don't look now but it seems like you've caught a big fish."

Of course, when someone tells you not to look, the first thing you'd logically do is look. Glad you weren't caught staring earlier now that the very same man you were drooling over has noticed your existence and is staring directly at you.

Brown irises drop down to scan your figure and the suggestiveness of it lights something deep within you. You're quick to nudge off Seungkwan's arm around your waist when Joshua's eyes linger a second longer on it than you'd expect, ignoring your friend's sassy mutter of "hook, line, and sinker."

"I… I really don't like that implication, 'Kwan."

"Sure you don't."

Joshua Hong's intent gaze is far from unsavory. Even if it was more perverse in nature, you think you'd feel drunk off the same amount of power it fills you with and you haven't had a single drop of alcohol yet. A swear word escapes under your breath at the dampness of your back — and elsewhere — before sending the admiring man a demure smile of acknowledgement and turning once more to Seungkwan.

"You were criticizing my shoes earlier?"

"'Cause you can barely walk in them!"

"Then let's put these bad boys to good use."

Your friend can only shake his head as you stride away. He'll keep an occasional eye on you from afar for the rest of the night but he has a hunch things will be… fine. He hopes. Wonwoo did say Joshua was a decent man, after all.

He'll have to be… if he's willing to put up with you, Seungkwan thinks to himself with a cringe as he watches.

Vernon hands over a much appreciated beer and he sidles up to the unbothered man's side, jutting his chin out in your direction and asking, "Are you ready for some entertainment?"

"Yo, always bro."

"Cheers to that."

Meanwhile, you've made it to the new company without stumbling once — something you're very proud of. You nod at Joshua. Nothing more than a soft flutter of eyelashes, alerting him that you're aware of his presence but indulging in nothing more. Instead, you choose to lean comfortably into his companion's space.

"Hi Woo, care to share?"

The bespectacled man wordlessly offers his nearly empty glass of wine, always easygoing and ever perceptive. Unlike his best friend who never fails to be endearing but can't take a hint to save his life. One of the many reasons why Mingyu has never succeeded as a wingman — unfathomably clumsy but still loveable in all aspects to steal everyone's heart involved.

You finish the rest of Wonwoo's drink off with a satisfied hiss at the taste but not without a snort. "I didn't mean that, silly."

He cracks a smile, returning the teasing with a fake, reproaching scold of your name. "Could've told me you wanted to steal my buddy and not drain all my alcohol!"

Joshua laughs — loud and clear above the din of noises surrounding you. It has an air of gracefulness to it and you're sure the club brightens in a way that's totally not from the strobe lights going crazy.

"So, this is Seungkwan's friend…"

You jab Wonwoo's side with a huff. "Hey, I'm much more than that!"

"If it's any consolation," Joshua cuts in with another laugh and a handshake, taking on a self introduction. "I'm just some guy named Joshua. Hope that doesn't disappoint."

"Just some guy, huh? One that wears a Royal Oak?"

He thrillingly doesn't let go of your hand, keeping a firm but gentle grasp when turning it with his to properly glance at the notorious status symbol wrapped around it. The steel casing glints just as fiercely as the sapphire glass over white gold hour-markers embedded on its face.

"Yep, still just some guy that's called Josh. Joshua Hong, to be exact. Scared you off yet?"

"I wear heels that have a one hundred percent chance of breaking my ankle to a place where there's a terrible combo of dancing and drinks. But you think I'd be scared by a pretty boy wearing thirty-some jewels around his wrist?"

He steals another appreciative look up and down your body. Not as fiery as the first one but still bold without shame, striking another bolt of heat that flashes through your veins and simmers in your lower abdomen.

"Taste. And bite. I'd expect nothing less from someone like you."

"Someone like me?" you scoff as he winks, taking a step back and extending your arm as far as it will go with the notion for you to follow.

"Dance with me?"

Wonwoo had quietly faded into the background and slipped away for another refill. Smart guy. There's no one to worry about leaving behind when you accept this unfamiliar man's invitation and let him whisk you in the direction of the dancefloor. But not before catching Seungkwan's mild and supportive yet watchful gaze before he raises his beer in a mock salute.

It's almost cute at how inept Joshua is maneuvering through the tumultuous flow and ebb of moving bodies compared to said good friend. The way his taller frame looks more like a poor cruise ship tossed helplessly in the waves of the ocean than the stationary lighthouse and its reassuring beacon you'd expect causes a chuckle.

"You're almost as bad at this as I am."

He shoots an apologetic smile at the same time someone once again jostles his shoulder, pushing him closer into you. "Nightclubs really aren't my scene."

You're not complaining about the aided proximity that lets you hear what he says without strain. Although you do try to match the beat as it changes to something more sensual yet still playful. Going along with the rhythm of the other dancers rather than against much smoother than Joshua's awkward attempt to mimic. He sticks behind you, failing to hide the blatant mesmerization at how you sway effortlessly to the beat.

"You're not bad at this at all."

You shrug. "I've been here often enough to blend in better than most. So tell me, what's a rich boy's usual scene then? Shanqin Bay's clubhouse?"

"Hah, you wanna come with me sometime and find out?"

"Only if you can promise a fun experience… oh," you throw a smirk at him over your shoulder, "and to cover all the costs, of course."

"A pretty thing like you would have anyone saying yes and wrapped around your little finger."

"Maybe, but only if they're worth my attention."

"Afraid to disappoint yet again when I spend most hours of the day in the operating room."

You turn abruptly to face him, grateful for the hand that shoots out to support your elbow despite his surprise at your dubious side-eye. "Are you a doctor?"

"Maybe."

"Director's son?"

"Cliché enough for you yet?"

"I recall someone who's wearing a Royal Oak saying I had good taste so I'm not going to complain. Though it would have been quite the story to hear you were the one under the knife," you take a step closer and slip a finger underneath his silver chain to tempt him closer, "to end up looking this good." When large hands hesitate to land on your hips, you raise an eyebrow. "Thought a surgeon would have a steadier grip."

"Oh." Brown eyes flicker with a carnal desire, focusing on your lips. "You expect me to be a rich, talented playboy and not be naturally handsome too?"

"Sorry, Doctor Hong but there has to be at least something wrong with you."

The polite smile he'd been wearing all night quirks up at the corners, changing into something more on edge. A little dangerous. Beckoning excitement. He spins you back around, hands solidly landing on your sides — this time without reserve — to prevent your lower bodies from touching and changes the subject back to when you approached Wonwoo and him.

"Do you always take drinks from guys?"

"Ah, hm. Just the good ones."

"Good alcohol?" His breath is hot against the ear he's speaking directly into. "Or… good boys?"

Biting your lower lip does nothing to hide the unfettered glee you're feeling. "Alcohol, of course." A breathy sigh and you take the leap. "Want a taste?"

There's no need to ask twice. It's like the right key turning its lock. The doctor's initial awkward movements are nowhere to be found as one hand smoothly leaves your hip, turning your chin toward him to meet you halfway with his lips ready to brush against yours.

At the last minute, he backs off and turns your chin to its original position of facing forward with a smirk you can't see. Who cares about a missed kiss when his other hand slides across your stomach? Urging you to press your ass backwards and grind against the very obvious bulge that his khakis do nothing to hide.

Its growing hardness and promising length cause you to automatically moan, arching your back with the feral need to feel more. Your head tilts to the side, hips swiveling and swaying not to the beat but the rise of his cock. The position willingly grants Joshua access to lick, suck, and bite at the exposed skin.

He hums along to the music with a melodic voice from what you can hear, though you find more enjoyment in the consistent vibrations against your neck. A naughty hand plays with the tucked-in hem of your blouse and an occasional finger teasingly slips under the waistline of your jeans.

You can now feel Joshua's smirk when in turn, your fingers tangle in the bottom hairs of his mullet. His lips curl up, moving to nibble behind your other ear and breathe in your scent. As delightfully predicted, there's a distinct pull by your rings when you tug them free from the strands that has him pausing. Eliciting a sharp hiss and equally as sharp — but appreciative — thrust against your backside.

In retaliation, the lax hand caressing your throat tightens around it ever so slightly while he growls in your ear, "You said there has to be something wrong with me, right?"

"Mhm, oh yeah. Totally."

"Wanna fuck around and find out, beautiful?"

Hook, line, and sinker was damn right, Boo Seungkwan. Of course, the devil would be wearing a shirt the same shade as the sky where heaven's clouds make their home.

And you eagerly take the forbidden fruit — his hand, once again — and teeter after him. The red flags are already starting to fly at full mast but into the dimly lit hallway you go, elated to find an empty and quiet corner right before the stairs leading down to the bathrooms.

Underneath the neon glow of the exit sign, Joshua pins you against the wall with your arms laying on his shoulders. If you thought the attacks from his mouth were rough on the dance floor, they turn ten times more animalistic now that he has something to support you with other than strong arms and big hands. A pair of soft lips and the warm wet tongue between them contrast with the digging in of his teeth that follow your necklace chain to its adorning pendant.

It hangs in the v-neck window of your blouse and he lets out a tiny grunt of displeasure at the breasts being concealed away by the fabric and its many buttons. That doesn't stop him from tugging the bottom of the shirt free like a petulant child, nothing preventing his fingers now free to tickle and feel up the bare skin beneath.

This man is good at distraction. You don't think much of the light grazing beneath your tits, only a fleeting and casual touch. It feels so good when he cups under them like an additional support for the bra you're wearing and squeezes, causing you to keen and push yourself further into him. Then quick as lightning, one hand sneaks around the back to unhook the bra's clasp and the other deftly unbuttons your jeans.

"Joshua!" you squeak in protest, stepping back and pressing flat against the wall. You're quick to rush and slap a hand against your chest to keep the beloved strapless bra that's served you well from falling to the ground. "Is your red flag undressing someone in public?"

"Only if you insist 'cause surely I would never decline such a request being the gentleman that I am." The doctor makes no further move despite the way he licks his lips and teases, only chuckling at the menacing way you squint. "Just know my full intentions are to be touching all over and especially under whatever layers you're wearing very shortly."

There's no use hiding the whine that escapes when he places a hand on the wall next to you and leans in with a smirk.

"However, sweetheart… "

You catch his line of sight dart off to the left and your heart plummets, the fear of being left high and dry (wet) setting in. "Josh — "

"You'll have to forgive this rich boy's schemes. You see, I've always been very spoiled and just have to take what I want right away. And you're much too irresistible…"

He speaks casually. Like your jeans weren't suddenly unzippered and he isn't currently running a tantalizing finger on the fabric below the waistband of your panties, causing them to soaken further down. Way more than they already had and almost where you need him but also not even close in the slightest.

"Though as a rich boy," he continues, "I'm more than familiar with providing a small courtesy here and there. Would this club's filthy bathroom offer enough privacy for you, gorgeous?"

"… Only if you make sure I'm presentable enough to get down there… and back up here after, for when I have to leave with my friends."

Joshua's eyes widen before he's throwing his head back and laughing, bright and cheery like he's not going to rearrange your guts. "So you don't expect to go home with me? Maybe I won't be such a walking red flag to you."

"Doubtful. Now fix me up, Doctor."

"With pleasure."

It's not like there are as many people milling about as in the main area. Still, it's good to be conscientious. The same adept hands re-fasten your top undergarment efficiently. When he ducks his head to kindly fix your pants — which is sort of hot — you take the opportunity to whisper in his ear for shit-and-giggles to gauge his reaction.

"You know there's a front clasp too."

He glances up from where he's eye-level with your covered breasts, eyes darkening. Bingo.

"What a little whore we have here, hm?"

The nonchalant, degrading question and burning desire in his gaze makes your knees weaken, arousal skyrocketing. Enough that you almost throw all caution to the wind for him to fuck you. Right here, right now. But then he's pulling away, offering a palm you can't seem to refrain from taking a hold of. And ever the true picture of being a gentleman — helps you descend down the dark stairwell.

Your killer heels really do nothing for you physically (besides the threat of rolling an ankle) because it doesn't matter how tall or short you end up with them on. It's the confidence and ego that are heightened exponentially, which is all that matters.

That's why you follow Joshua Hong into the sketchy bathroom, let him lock the door, and bat your eyelashes with a coy smile. Leaning against the sink and fussing with your blouse as he approaches like a predator eyeing up its prey. Greedily drinking in the bare skin revealed by each button that's undone until only one is still fastened — right across your tits — that the man can unclasp himself if he so chooses.

Barely anything stopped him before anyways.

And that's what also fuels you to put your arms around his neck, pressing your bodies close together. Even closer by hooking your right leg across his hip, the point of your heel digging intentionally into the back of his other thigh. It's hot and hard — the dick bulge that keeps growing pressed tightly into the snug warmth of your core — and Joshua lets you grind down and dampen his khakis for a few moments longer than expected.

"Desperate, aren't you? Didn't wanna fuck in public 'cause you're freakier behind closed doors?"

"Just a little." You fight back the urge to whimper or admit anything to him. Like you aren't humping his length that only swells more and feels achingly thicker the harder you rut against it, eyelids fluttering the few times it's able to deliciously spread your pussy lips just the slightest through your clothes. "I'm so wet — "

"The more of a mess you leave on my pants, the longer I'll have to edge you while waiting for them to dry." Joshua grins cockily at you trying to force your hips to stop themselves only to struggle pathetically in vain. "Think you'd like that. Haven't even gotten to fuck this hot little cunt yet and I'm already certain I wouldn't mind being buried in there for hours. But don't know if your friends will stick around for that long…"

"J-Josh, ah — Shua… mhm!"

"So I think you'd better behave if you know what's good for you," he stills your hips hard, "fuckin' slut."

You mewl at the hard, rude thrust that bumps your clit as if he was actually fucking you. Like goo, you let him manhandle you around so you're bent over and facing the smudged mirror, hands gripping tightly to each side of the sink basin. Aided by the reflections, you witness how he shamelessly ogles the tempting ass that's been rubbing all over him all night. And of course that means you have to perk up and wiggle your hips, giving him quite a show.

The small distance between you clears the lust cloud and you throw a smoldering glance over your shoulder. "If you fuck me with my heels on, I'll give you a chance with them off."

Joshua swats your ass — not very hard but you release a yelp of surprise. "Wasn't aware that you were running the show, sweetheart."

"It's my backside you're looking at."

"Knew you were mouthy the minute I saw you. You're aware of how kind I am, so let me give you a choice." He's anything but kind as he sighs and leans his weight over top of you. Despite the bracing strength of his arms, you feel suffocated by just being caged in between them and the overpowering scent of his cologne. "I shut you up with either my fingers in your mouth or around your throat."

Oh… decisions, decisions! Long fingers that would surely feel best deep inside your pussy but that wasn't one of the options. You purse your lips in thought and arch up, balancing the heavy cock supported by your ass and unconsciously pouting. Joshua has the audacity to look at the time while brushing back his hair and clicks his tongue.

"Wow, I'm letting you choose between sucking on my fingers like a slut or being choked like a whore and you still can't decide? What a high maintenance toy."

The urge to scoff is extremely strong. "Sucking it is then, Doctor Hong," you say sweetly and then add with a sneer, "like the perfect slut that I truly am."

"When your friends all said you were nothing but a gentle soul, I knew they were duped. Only one was partially truthful in saying you could be sassy which doesn't even come close. Little do they know there's a bratty cockwhore with quite a bite underneath all that charm."

"Haven't fucked any of them, that's why. No plans to either."

"Yeah, what was it you like — oh right, good boys?" He laughs — low, mean, and degrading. "Then what am I, sweetheart?"

"A doctor who's full of himself and needs taken down a few, ha, pegs."

"Ah, there it is." Joshua undoes the final button, slipping a curious finger beneath the bra's front hook pulling your tits together. You shiver when it snaps against your skin after he retracts, pointer finger tracing a lazy line up your throat to its final destination. "The attitude."

You willingly part your lips, lolling your tongue out mischievously to match the roll of your eyes. "Someone gets off on it."

"Is that so?" He smears the lipgloss on your lower lip by pulling it down before releasing it. "Do you think this is all a coincidence, darling?" Meeting the hardened gaze in the mirror, you shake your head. "The minute I saw such a sparkling gem on Wonwoo's story, I just had to have it for myself."

It's not hard to guess what he's referring to. A couple weeks ago, you wore enough scraps of fabric to just cover your nipples and the areas between your legs. Drinking far too much and hanging off of the WonGyu duo's broad frames while the whole gang partied it up together at Vernon's. You had even asked them to send you the videos and pictures after because damn, you did look hot as fuck.

Who knew it would be bait for an entitled pretty boy?

"At least you waited to find me when I wasn't drunk."

"Much more fun to break someone sober."

"Glad to know consensual exists in your vocabulary."

"How about it — will you let me destroy this little pussy of yours and ruin it to keep you crawling back to me for more?"

"Sure, if you ever stop talking and actually do something — "

Joshua's quick to shut you up, almost cracking your jaw with the harsh thumb that's jammed in the corner of your mouth to prop it open. The following two fingers are thrust cruelly inside as a replacement so it can move to keep your chin steady. They're able to reach so far when pinning down your tongue, ending up wedged near the back of your throat so you're already gagging around them.

"Most sluts behave the second I drop the nice guy act. But boy oh boy, it only makes you act up more, eh?"

He finally does away with your bra to allow those gorgeous tits to spill out and casually rips the garment from your body like it's personally offended him. Maybe it has. Shoving it away into his back pocket and then urgently tugging your jeans down. The binding position you're left in helps keep your shaky legs in place while you cling to the sink like it's a lifeline. Upper body supported only by the cruel hold he has on your face until he yanks it back so you're flush against him instead, the cool baby-blue silk of his shirt set ablaze by your shared body heat.

"Next time, wear something that has easier access. Or better yet… maybe nothing at all or I'll be forced to rip it off." A piercing set of eyes attempt to glare into yours that roll back delightfully despite what's likely some snark ends up sounding all jumbled. "Oh yes, there will be a next time, sweetheart. I have to train this cunt to yearn for my cock — and you don't think you'll get it that easily, right?"

Joshua chuckles darkly knowing you can't reply. But liking to be full of surprises, you relax your upper jaw while his fingers trail across your pelvis and close your lips around the ones in your mouth. Suckling and swirling once the tension in them relaxes despite the naughty thought of biting. That doesn't eliminate the occasional graze of your teeth as a threat, responding to his words in your own way.

"Just look at yourself, slobbering all over… bet you suck cock like a champ. And prolly like it real messy. How well-trained you'd look trying to balance on these pointed heels while I fuck that bratty mouth."

You moan at the visual he's painted in your head.

"That's right, darling." There's a mean pinch to your clit followed by the man's groan at the ruined fabric squelching between his fingertips and how the covered little nub was already begging for friction. "Now tell me how long your cunt's been warming up and soaking these drenched panties?"

"Since the beginning…" you admit once he's freed your sore mouth and chooses to bully your breasts next. "When you looked at me."

He snickers, pushing your underwear to the side and petting at the bare slippery folds. Just able to barely see a small glimpse of where his actions play with your lower body in the mirror. At least your expressions make up for what he misses seeing.

"Aw, this soft pussy started drooling the minute I laid eyes on you? While I was imagining all the things I could do to these tits," the hand on one of them palms at the rounded flesh hard. "This ass," his pelvis grinds in a slow circle against it. "Mhm, and of course, this hidden gem."

At that, a thumb brutally rubs at your clit while plunging a finger inside the warm, wet walls that eagerly pulse around it. You weren't wrong about how good the digit would feel inside, the length and stretch of its bony knuckle feeling good enough to substitute as a mini-dick when Joshua starts a slow and methodical pace with it.

"Thought about having you spread out in the backseat of my Bugatti La Voiture Noire, you'd look like a vision laying across its leather seats. And the best thing? No one can see inside so you'll get your much desired privacy while being right out in the open."

Then he's adding another finger, longer than the first. And finally one more with an additional push in and out of the others. Clearly his experience on how to work a pussy is more than helpful. Alternating between stuffing your hole full of all three or changing up the pace and number each turn.

And of course, your chest is attended to as well. Both nipples tugged in iterations to match the rhythm of each finger spearing into your cunt, the pendant of your necklace bouncing in time. Without fail, he hits the bundle of nerves with a deadly precision that has you going slack against him.

"Maybe we should do that 'cause," he mumbles in your ear, "this filthy hole is awfully good at convincing me to spoil its owner like no one else. Let's see if it can tell me how much it'll want me to fill it up one day."

Your ears ring with the devastating screams of white noise at the sudden stop. The moans you were letting out trail off into a dissatisfied growl. His hand falls away from your upper body while the one in between your legs merely sits nice and snug, still inside but not moving. Far too relaxed, limp even.

"Joshua!"

"C'mon, weren't you listening? Convince me."

"Fuck you," is what you spit out, glaring at the challenging and impossibly smug reflection of the menace behind you.

"You didn't say fuck off, so… I'm waiting."

Another check at his watch like he's bored infuriates you enough to move your hips. Whining at how his fingers fail to stiffen and only follow your pitiful motions back and forth. Out of protest, you reach behind and take a harsh hold of the hard length you're able to grab.

"Watch it, darling!" Joshua flinches and the way his cock twitches dulls the venomous words that come next. "Or I'll leave you here all needy and by yourself, waiting for some other pathetic dick to hop onto in order to satiate just a little bit of this wet and slutty pussy's behaviors."

Well, that idea doesn't appeal to you whatsoever so you lean on the sink with a huff to do what needs done. It's a struggle to stay balanced on your heels while grabbing at his wrist but a small part of you knows he won't let you fall, a bicep supporting under your breasts. Revenge comes sweetly by digging your nails into the tense muscle of his forearm and leaving scratch marks that have him hissing.

And now you know for sure — despite the doctor's incredibly huge ego and big talk, Joshua Hong's no better than a painslut.

"Hah," you breathe out and start to slowly rock your hips. "Disrespectfully, go to hell."

Ignoring the abrasive insult — because he's a demon anyways — Joshua focuses on the wet suctioning sound growing louder the faster you move. The feeling of your tits and necklace hitting his arm to the beat of your hip bounces and enjoying the view of how his fingers disappear beyond the jiggle of your asscheeks. Up into the tight heat of velvety walls as you force his hand to behave and serve your needs like one of your dildos, though they've never been this uncooperative.

"That's it. Yeah, there we go… just like that. Go ahead and make yourself cum riding my fingers, beautiful. Uh-huh, now who's using me like a little whore to get off?"

You're already losing yourself. Waiting for that rising wave to crest because despite his annoying mouth, Joshua's fingers are more than skilled enough to hurl you into a delightful climax. As long as nothing interrupts it.

"Answer me — or I'll make you choke yourself."

"Mhm…"

He likes seeing how your face contorts, moans getting louder. It's too addicting which is why he growls out, "Do it."

It's a feat to let go of the sink but the reward is to move his arm around your bra-line to your throat, making his hand envelope it. The visual in the mirror is depraved — limbs all wrapped and tangled with each other — and your half-closed eyes taunt the searing gaze in the mirror, repeating his words right back.

"Why not do it yourself, Doctor?"

"Are you some sort of succubus or what?" He spits out the question like it's the germs on the toilet seat next to you. Freeing himself momentarily from the grip of your hand and your cunt, the man's at least nice enough to assuage the pissed off whine with a consoling lick up your neck and tugs impatiently at your pants. "Take these off."

"Go fuck yourself," you mutter darkly with half the mind to walk out of there. But you do as he says, quickly shimmying them off while your clit buzzes and twitches angrily at the neglect of stimulation again.

Joshua's eyes don't look away, his hands steadying your hips and your pussy aching when you hear how he slowly slurps on his fingers to clean them. Once you step back into your heels, he throws the jeans over his shoulder.

"Careful with the phone," you threaten.

Joshua snorts and bends over to secure a strap for you — sucking harshly on the skin of your thigh as a "you're welcome" but pulling away before your hands can tangle in his hair and keep him down there.

"Wrong thing to say to someone who likes broken and expensive things. Shouldn't you be warning me not to break something else?" Suddenly, your other shoe dangles precariously off your foot when he uses a strong hand to lift and support your leg onto the sink's surface. "Like this poor pussy?"

The straining burn in your muscles and the added chill of the porcelain is all alleviated by harsh rubbing at the tender skin of your entrance. Middle and pointer finger eagerly prying sloppy pussy lips apart once again.

"Ah, but I might enjoy that."

A clear glob of arousal drips from your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. Joshua leers hungrily past your shoulder at the mirror's erotic display of your exposed cunt and the wetness shining under the buzz of the bathroom's fluorescent lights.

"Dirty and yet it's such a pretty little jewel. Sparkling and glistening so, so lovely that I can't wait to watch it shatter while playing with it."

Finally, all three fingers from before work in tandem to scissor repeatedly inside of your tight warmth without forgiveness. This time, the devil has nothing but good intentions to send you over the peak of pleasure. His eyes can't stop feasting on the raunchy way your greedy hole gobbles up his fingers. The loud squelches accompanying his motions echo around the small enclosed space, mixing with the warm breath hitting the side of his cheek from your gasping moans.

Joshua thinks it's mighty cute how puffy your outer pussy lips grow and struggle to spread around the thick and long digits shoved inside plus the onslaught of his thumb bullying your clit. The angle shows the slightest bulge of them relentlessly stroking the bundle of nerves that has your leg twitching from the sheer pleasure.

He focuses on bringing you there, all on what you're feeling rather than his own pleasure because you have the most convincing cunt ever that deserves to be ravaged by a large, girthy cock. A shame it has to wait because he cannot give in so easily. But you're definitely a piece of work. Joshua likes that.

"Gonna keep making a mess on my fingers, darling? Leave 'em all sweet and wet enough for me to wrap around my dick later and pretend it's your pussy instead."

You'll be the death of him when your head rolls into the crease of his neck, drool dampening the skin as you mouth senselessly at the vein protruding beneath. There's a sharp sting — the certain kind he hasn't felt in a very long time. A telltale warning of a hickey, the beautiful colors of red and purple already rushing to the surface and decorated by little nips of your teeth after you soothe the pain with your tongue.

No one marks up Joshua Hong. Sure, he's had lipstick stains before but those can easily be swiped off with a handkerchief and washed away in the shower. He can't help but smirk though, knowing when he eventually wipes your sticky lipgloss off, something of you will remain for a bit.

However you can't go without a little punishment. If you can even call it that when he returns to wrapping a hand around your throat. Anyone else who dared to leave a mark would be walked away from. But you — you simply lose enough oxygen causing your head to spin more pleasantly than it already is.

And you claw at his forearm, scratching it up ten times more to serve as a further reminder for Joshua to look at. You're by no means urging him to stop but to earnestly keep going while simultaneously searching for something — anything — to anchor you down as you float into an almost unconscious state of pure ecstasy.

It's by far the strongest, most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced. Becoming nothing but a bag of bones in his arms as your walls pulsate around his fingers and the fruitful expenditure of your release drips down his wrist.

He stays in that position, unable to move anyways with the vice-like grip of your spasming cunt cramping his fingers. Instead, drawing out the pleasure as much as possible by squeezing and releasing the pressure on your throat over and over again. The true picture of debauchery — heaven and sin mixed in one — and he kind of wishes for a third arm to take a photo for a keepsake.

Everything in your body aches deliciously. You feel both refreshed and exhausted when you finally come to and even then Joshua supports your weak body as you try to regain control over your wits and whereabouts.

"Pants," you croak out and wave him off when he tries to gentlemanly assist. Which he still kind of has to when you almost topple face-first on legs that feel like jelly. "Bra."

Joshua's a little less enthusiastic to hand that over, bitter sarcasm lacing his words. "Wow, won't even grant me a souvenir?"

"Boo-hoo," you gripe back and pretend not to notice the eyes glued to the way your tits bounce when adjusting the garment around them. Turning to look in the mirror, you work on dulling the "just got fingered in the bathroom" appearance. "It's not like you need one and it seems even less likely you'll keep anything from a stranger, especially lingerie."

"Hm, I like how well you read me."

"Of course you do, fuels that large privileged ego. Don't get used to it. But, want me to do something about that one though?"

He coughs at the rather suggestive insult, shifting his pants and shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the messy boner you're referencing. "Guess I did a great job if you're begging for it already."

"Oh, for goodness sake I'm being courteous."

"Cute."

Joshua admits it almost like he's startled by the words that escape his mouth. Further surprising both of you with a clumsy, sloppy kiss to the cheek when he leans over to fasten the top button of your blouse. As if embarrassed, he's already halfway out the door when he remembers to mention, "I'll be thinking of you darling, look forward to your call!"

You're left staring at the saliva spot reflected on your cheek in shock. And then, you wipe it off with the rest of the accumulated sweat to make yourself a bit more presentable and then head back to the club as naturally as possible.

Dr. Hong is seemingly nowhere in sight as expected. You figure it would be hard to return with a raging boner despite the low lighting and he probably left through the back exit to likely jerk off in his ridiculously expensive car. The visual of white ropes of cum streaming past the steel band of the Royal Oak around his wrist haunts your mind, making your aching core buzz to life again and your sticky panties even grosser.

Out of pure spite, you hope he stains his shirt too.

Luckily, Seungkwan is still at the bar when you wobble over in search of him. He shouts your name in mock shock, assessing your appearance with pursed lips and eyeballing your figure dubiously.

"You look like hell."

"Yeah?" you laugh it off as nonchalantly as possible, unaware of the phone in your back pocket lighting up with a returned text message from a newly saved number and a scandalous picture attached. "I just got back."

onlyseokmins: July 2023 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #joshua hong smut #joshua smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #smut #hong joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #if this flops so does the hong schlong #i fist fought this joshua in the parking lot and WON #svt.smut

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acciocriativity · 5 months

Text

-> When they reject you…

… but it wasn't a confession (MATZ Version)

Genre: angst (I'm sorry)

Warnings/tags: angst; unrequited love (?); Seonghwa being a little asshole; heartbreak; just betrayal guys

WC: 1,4 k

N/A: Yes, this is inspired by that Colin scene in Bridgerton, to be honest I still not forgave him for that.

Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it, it helps to reach other people <3

Ateez Masterlist

Park Seonghwa (박성화)

You had no reason to be up right now. Actually if anything, you should’ve been sleeping for hours now to rest for the early morning ahead of you, yet somehow you were still waiting to make sure he was safe and sound.

You heard them from the hallway, a combination of the dead silence in the building and their loud voices. You heard only sounds that didn’t make any sense to you, but it made you get up in hurry.

This isn’t good, there was something wrong with Seonghwa, you knew it.

The apartment was small, there wasn’t stairs to go down or a long way to cross to reach the door. In a few steps after you left your room, Seonghwa’s and Yunho’s voices became clear to you.

“Shh, keep your voice down, are you trying to wake everyone up?”, Yunho whisper-screamed, but his tone was far from angry, there was a residue of laughter on his voice.

“No”, he almost whined as you heard the constant jiggles from Seonghwa’s chains bag, like he was struggling against Yunho. “I told you I don’t want to live with her anymore, take me to the dorms for the night”.

That took you by surprise, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Ever since you two became roommates two years ago, he never gave you any signs that he needs some time away from your company, which would be completely okay, but to hear him say that to his friend made you feel so humiliated. You tried so hard to be friendly, to make him and all of his friends at home and all he did was pretend to do the same, welcoming you into his life.

Was this how he talked about you behind your back? Did they all know he hated living with you?

You feel something burning, maybe it was the bit of love for him, you had or the tears you refused to cry over this.

“Hyung, com’on, it's not that bad, you need to sleep and think clearly about this”, Yunho tried his best for a while, you could tell this wasn’t the first or second time he said those words.

They got closer to the door, only then you realized you were spying on them. If you were embarrassed before, now you felt mortified, but somehow you couldn’t move an inch.

What exactly made him feel uncomfy at home, because you were completely in the dark about those feelings, whatever they were. Did he seem off those days? You can’t remember, he was as sweet to you as he’s always been. But the man on the other side of the door was done, he was huffing and puffing like an immature child because he didn’t want to be at your home. The Seonghwa you thought was a friend couldn’t be more different than the man you are listening to right now.

“She is that bad”.

You breathe in.

There’s no way, absolutely no way.

“You should just tell her, y’ know”, Yunho said in that soft tone you hear more than once directed at you.

“I did”, Seonghwa raised his voice and that startles you. “She just doesn’t get the hint, I gave her too many signs to move on already”.

You don’t hear whatever answer Yunho gave him nor the sequential sounds of each number of the door code. You could only hear all the deep conversations you had together, where he told you he would be there for you anytime you needed, that he’d give a shoulder when you needed one. He was the one that made you open up to him and for what?

The door opened wide

They stood there like two idiots caught dirty-handed. Seonghwa couldn’t look at you in the eyes, a fucking coward he truly was. He was just like the others in your life, your worst nightmare became true.

There were tears pooling in your eyes as you closed more and more in your own head again, all of those months worth of improvement wasted.

Your mind screamed for you to move, to run out of there as fast as you could to as far as possible. But why should you? The voice in your head was bitter and angry. This was your apartment at first, even though you didn’t hesitate to call it ‘our’.

“Leave then, am I forcing you to live here with me? Did I even say I was interested in you? Get your shit by tomorrow night and get off my face.

You shut the door close on their faces.

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중)

The library wasn’t as empty as you wished it would be at 21:39, to study or do something near closing hours would be pointless for most, but you needed only more 79 words to finish your essay and your mama raised no bitch.

You watch the numbers change on your phone, exactly 20 minute from now you have to finish this. You’ve been here all evening, you can’t bring yourself to do it at home. No, you are going to finish this, get home, get a nice shower and re—

“I think you’re actually going insane, no offense though”.

You could recognize that voice anywhere. That fucker said he didn’t have time to study with you, again. Did he come to check on me? The thought crossed your head, but you shut it down just as fast, that wouldn’t make any sense, would it? He was ignoring you for a week now, no calls, no texts, nothing. Did he even know you were here? He would, if he saw the text you sent at noon.

You stared at your screen, the white was blurring your vision after so long. You took that as a sign to take a little 5-minute break.

Alright Hongjoong, this is your last chance to redeem yourself, this is the last time I’d bother to try.

You couldn’t see where he was from your seat, but his voice seemed to be coming from the sets of tables on the other side of the bookshelves. At the very least he deserved a little jump scare, he should have it coming as payback, so you don’t feel bad as you tiptoed to spy on where he was.

You moved a couple books to the side to see it better. He had his phone glued to his ear as he paced around. Distracted, as you needed, but the little mischievous demon on your shoulder disappeared as you paid close attention to his distressed disposition. There were few moments where you saw him so tense and stressed. Whatever the other person was saying, wasn’t good news.

“No, that’s… I see, but that makes it worse, no? I can’t tell her like this, hm…”

The lilac pencil case on top of the table distracted you from the big picture. The table was a mess from two people, the distinction was clear as day. Hongjoong wouldn’t be caught dead with anything other than black or red on his bag. It was clear it wasn’t his, so whose was?

The answer walked in with a concerned look on her face. Was that the ‘her’ in the conversation? He ended the call as soon as she got close. They stood near each other, too near for two people who just met.

“Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”, she leaned into him as if on instinct, a feeling you could relate to, he had something in him that attract people to him.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know, I wish to keep a normal friendship with her someday”.

“It’s better to just call her, it’s been long enough for her to get over you”.

Is this ‘her’ me? You hoped not, whatever this was, you hated.

You felt sick to your stomach as they held hands, so you left Hongjoong alone, like he clearly wanted to. He wasn’t the type to open up to new people, she wasn’t new, and he never told you about it. There wasn’t secrets in your friendship, at least he said so, but there was a lot you don’t know, apparently.

If that’s you… if he was talking about you, did he just ignore you for almost two weeks because he thought you would get in the middle of his relationship?

You phone rang.

It was him, but you didn’t bother to answer, and he didn’t bother to try again. There’s nothing to salvage anymore.

Tag list: @h3arteyes4mingi

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez masterlist #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez angst #seonghwa reactions

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inbloomwriting · 9 months

Text

a kiss that I kept II Jamie Tartt

Plot: Jamie Tartt was 9 years old when he met the love of his life. He considers himself lucky to have met her at such a young age. He considers himself a damn fool for fucking it up later on though. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of Jamie's dad. Notes: Friends to idiots to lovers. Inspired by "Simple Song" by the Shins Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

When I was just nine years old I swear that I dreamed Your face on a football field And a kiss that I kept Under my vest Apart from everything But the heart in my chest

There’s something cathartic about being back home in Manchester. Not as a footballer, just as Jamie. When he doesn’t have to be phenomenal, when he doesn’t have to perform and win. When he doesn’t have to try so damn hard to give his dad a reason to be proud of him.

Without those expectations and without the pressure, it feels good to be home. It’s a part of his childhood that is untouched by his father’s malice. It’s pure and joyful and precious.

He’s not Jamie Tartt, golden child and footballer extraordinaire. He’s cousin Jamie. He’s Jamie from down the road. He’s Georgie’s boy.

It’s been a while since he’s been back, been even longer since he’s seen any of his extended family but being back now, it feels like hardly any time has passed. Millie has always been his favorite cousin so when the envelope showed up in his mailbox, all fancy paper and swirly font, there was no hesitation in him. Nothing could keep him from attending her wedding.

She’s a beautiful bride, all flowy dress and flowers in her hair. It’s almost hard to believe she’s the same kid that used to run around the neighborhood with Jamie, getting into trouble wherever they could find it. But somewhere between chiffon and carnations that little girl still exists. He wonders if the little boy he used to be is still alive somewhere inside of him. He hopes he’s proud of who he grew up to be. Sometimes he doubts it.

His eyes wander across the room, the reception is in full swing, people are talking, laughing, celebrating. Love is radiating from every smile. Though Jamie doesn’t really care all too much about that if he’s being completely honest, he only cares about one particular smile.

And when he catches sight of her, leaning against the bar with a glass of champagne in hand, wearing a gorgeous powder pink dress and daisies in her hair, he’s certain his heart misses a beat.

It would be an understatement to call (Y/N) his best childhood friend. Friend was never a big enough word to describe what she meant to Jamie — what she still means to him.

Jamie Tartt was 9 years old when he met the love of his life. He considers himself lucky to have met her at such a young age. He considers himself a damn fool for fucking it up later on though.

“Are you planning on talking to me anytime soon or do you just want to stare at me all day, Tartt?”

She says it with the same sense of mischief she’s always held. Like a silent promise of adventure perpetually hidden in her words.

“I was going to — eventually.”

“Well, eventually is not good enough for me. I missed you, Jamie.”

It’s only when she pulls him into a hug that he realizes just how much that sentiment is reciprocated. The familiar scent of lavender and the feel of her body against his, it all brings up so many memories of times long gone. This, Jamie thinks, is as close to time travel as humans will ever get.

He is suddenly 9 years old, playing soccer on the field just down the road from his house. His football is old and slightly inflated and some of the hexagons are flaking off, just holding on by a single tread. His goal is no real goal and all but two plastic bottles functioning as make-believe goalposts.

The air smells like sunscreen and summer and dust and life is easy for a moment. He gets to do what he loves without having to prove anything to anyone. Football is just a game here, something to pass the time. It’s fun.

He does kicks and jumps and trick shots and it doesn’t matter if he messes up. He can fail without having to fear any repercussions. There is no one there to judge him for it. Failure is a byproduct of trying not a sign of weakness.

Just as he is about to line up another shot at the makeshift goal, he sees her across the football field. At 9 years old, Jamie doesn’t know a lot of things but he’s quite certain she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. For a moment he wonders if she’s a dream, an illusion. Then she steps closer, comes walking towards him with that bright smile of hers and the glimmer of excitement shining in her eyes.

“You’re really good,” she says. He’s heard that a few times before, it never mattered then because he wasn’t good enough, not to his father at least. It matters when this stranger says it though, because she’s pretty and because she has no reason to lie to him.

“Thanks. I’m Jamie.”

“You’re bleeding.”

His eyes follow to where she points at his right knee and sure enough, it’s scraped up, a drop of blood running down his leg.

“Does it hurt?”

Jamie shrugs as if to let her know that it’s not a big deal. It does sting quite a bit now that she pointed it out to him. He’s not gonna let her know that though, girls don’t like soft boys who whine about scraped knees.

“I have a plaster if you want one. So you don’t get any dirt in the wound.”

She doesn’t even wait for an answer, just rummages through her purse that’s shaped like a little poodle, and pulls out a plaster. Jamie holds out his hand though she doesn’t pay it any attention, just kneels down and softly, so fucking softly, put the plaster over his wound. It’s the first time he smells her lavender shampoo, the first time she smiles at him, and the first time she sends his heart racing.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

And his life has not been the same since.

“ I missed you too.”

It’s the truth. He missed her terribly. But sometimes it’s hard to reconcile who he is with who he used to be. Who he is now with the person she used to love.

“Could’ve fooled me, you don’t even answer my insta DMs, you ass.”

Even when she curses him out, she regards him with infinite affection.

The girl that put a plaster on his bleeding knee is now a whole woman, but the kindness is still the exact same. The softness she holds for him is still there.

“To be fair I hardly check those. They scare me, honestly.”

“At least your mum updates me on your life. She was always my favorite Tartt anyway.”

He loves how much she loves his mum and how much mum loves her. There is something so inexplicably comforting in knowing the people you love most share a bond.

“Think you’re her favorite too.”

“Oh yeah, I know I am.”

Her laughter rings through the air like the sweetest song he’s ever heard. It’s so awfully cheesy, his own thoughts almost make him barf. But she just has that effect on him.

“You look beautiful today, (Y/N).”

“Today?” she asks in mock offense and though he knows it’s really just a joke, he feels the need to explain himself.

“Don’t get me wrong. You’re always proper fit but that dress? You look like a fucking angel.”

The way she bites her lip slightly and bashfully averts her eyes for a second, is a success in his book.

She really does look gorgeous, a whole vision of perfection. The pink dress, the flowers — the necklace.

A shiny rose gold charm sparkles in the light, resting gently against her skin. Heart-shaped like his feelings for her. He knows the pendant opens up and he knows exactly what he’ll find if he were to open it.

His lips lift in an involuntary smirk.

“What’s that look for, Jam?”

“You still got the necklace.”

She places a gentle hand against her chest, against the heart-shaped charm.

“Obviously. I will never ever ever get rid of it. I love it. You stole this for me!”

He was 14 and stupid and head-over-heels in love. He still remembers the sticky heat of the summer clinging to his skin, the taste of watermelon on his tongue, and the thought of her on his mind.

They spent all day riding their bikes around town with nowhere to be and everywhere to go. It was a good day, a phenomenal day. She shared her ice cream cup with him and held his hand on the way back to their bikes. It was a phenomenal day and Jamie was not ready to let it end just yet. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about the way her eyes lit up as she looked at that necklace in the shop window.

In retrospect, it was an extraordinarily dumb idea, one of his worst to date, but it made her smile. The way she smiled at him when he gave her the necklace that he stole for her, that made it all worth it. The yelling from mum and the being grounded and the having to pay back the money by working at the store for 3 whole months that summer.

Her smile made it all worth it.

“Mum was so mad at me that day.”

“Well, you did commit theft, so —”

“Worth it though. Made you smile.”

“Oh, Jam you— “

The nickname gives him shaky knees, the interruption by the DJ gives him a fucking headache.

“May all the unmarried ladies please report to the dance floor, it’s time for the bouquet toss.”

“That’s my queue, I guess. Save me a dance, Jamie Tartt.”

He will save her every damn dance in his life. They are all hers if she wants them.

She stands in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by a bunch of other women, a flicker of friendly competitiveness shining in her eyes. If she’s joining in on the bouquet toss, that means she’s not married, does that mean she’s single?

Of course, he could’ve asked mum, she knows for sure, but that would just open a whole different can of worms. You don’t ask your own mum if the girl you’ve been in love with since you were 9 years old, is single. You just don’t, no matter how badly you want to know.

The DJ starts playing Girls just wanna have fun, (Y/N) hated that song. “It’s awfully overplayed”, she said one time they were driving in his car, before changing the station.

She must still hate it judging by the grimace that falls over her face for a mere second before she catches herself and puts another polite smile back on her lips.

Millie stands before the group of women, back towards her friends, and bouquet raised in the air before counting down.

One

Two

Three

The flowers fly through the air and land in the hands of a girl whose name Jamie can’t recall but she’s definitely one of the bridesmaids. Chelsea? Cristy? Something like that. She looks elated, a guy leaning against the bar looks mortified.

(Y/N) seems thoroughly unbothered by it all as she strolls back across the dance floor toward Jamie.

“Do you want me to congratulate you or give you my condolences?”

She just laughs and shakes her head “It’s not like I have any suitors waiting for me to offer them my hand in marriage anyway.”

So she is single. Not that it matters or anything. It’s good to know though.

His eyes sweep across her face, then her hair, where one of the daisies is barely holding on and just about to fall off. Without giving it another thought, as if moving on autopilot, Jamie gingerly plucks the flower from her hair and places it behind her ear. There’s something about her that makes him want to be soft, that allows him to be soft.

“Almost lost one.”

“Thank you, Jamie.”

The tenderness in her words almost sends him to his knees. When you’re used to words being sharp and bitter it’s hard to accept when they are silky and delicate.

“You have the saddest eyes, Jam. What’s bothering you?”

There is a big long metaphorical list of all the things that rest so heavy on his heart. The pressure of having to be the best version of himself at all times. The feeling of failure always creeping up on him. The fear of messing up. The idea of not being good enough.

The reminder of what could’ve been and of all that isn’t.

He has a whole big list of things that make him sad — he doesn’t say any of that though. Just shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance.

“Don’t know what you mean, I’m chuffed. Doing fan-fucking-tastic.”

She can read him like a book, always could. Jamie doesn’t know why he even tries to fool her, it’s not going to work either way.

“I know that’s a lie,” (Y/N) scoffs then regards him with a look he can’t place. It’s a mix between pity and something else, something warm and comforting. “I’m not going to force you to talk to me about it. I’m aware we aren’t as close as we used to be but I just want you to know that I am always in your corner, Jamie. Always.”

He has no doubt she means what she says but Jamie isn’t sure she really knows what she’s talking about. She knew him as a little kid, an awkward teenager, a misguided 20-year-old. She doesn’t know this new version of him. Bitter and a little lost — or maybe a lot.

Jamie isn’t sure this new him deserves her loyalty.

"There's something that does make me sad, actually."

"What's that?"

"The fact that I’ve not had a single slice of cake yet. That’s why I’m here, innit?”

“And I thought you were here to celebrate your cousin getting married.”

“Common misconception, really. I mean I am — but mostly it’s about the cake. Technically I’m on a diet but it's a wedding, that doesn’t count. We all know that.”

They both know he’s just talking out of his ass. Of course, he’s here for Millie. For the wedding and the family get together and all of it. And even a little for (Y/N). Because he really did miss her … so fucking badly.

“Oh well, let’s go get us some cake then. Can’t have you starving, not Jamie Tartt — the island’s top scorer.”

Jamie has done a lot of things in his life that he isn’t particularly proud of. He tries to see them all as learning opportunities, cautionary tales for a future him. Doesn’t mean he likes to think about them. Especially not his short but quite memorable stint on the dating show Lust conquers all. All the worst parts of him put on display for everyone to see and discuss and judge, every night at 8pm.

“You watched that then?”

“Uh, obviously?! What’s a best friend’s job if not to laugh about you while you make a fool of yourself on a dating reality tv show?”

It warms him from the inside out, to hear that she still considers him her best friend. He’s not sure he’s been very good at it in the last few years. Has barely talked to her. But then again, who makes the rules? Maybe some people are bound together so tightly from the very beginning that neither time nor distance can break them apart.

“I’ll have you know that I was number one on famous birthdays the day after I got eliminated from the show. So, who’s laughing now?”

“Were you? How long did that last?”

“Like a day, maybe 2. Then it went back to John Krasinsky, fucking wanker.”

“Aw babe, well you’ll always be my favorite person born on October 20th. “ she says as they both come to stand by the table decked out in cakes and other desserts. “ I do like the office though, hmm…”

"Oh, sod off. You’re breaking my fucking heart.”

He likes the way she hugs his arm in mock apology. She’s not sorry, in fact, she’s still laughing. It doesn’t matter if she’s laughing with or about him though. As long as there is a smile on her face, that’s good enough for him.

“Sorry. Can I make it up to you?”

Jamie nudges her shoulder with his, the way they always did when they were kids. That little boy that was so in love with her, he’s slowly but surely clawing his way to the surface again. Breaking free from Jamie’s ribcage where he has been kept hidden for such a long time now.

“Well, what about that cake then?”

The neon lights dip her in shades of blues and pinks and purples as she twirls on the dancefloor, weaving in and out of the crowd. Jamie is sure he’s seen this very moment in a dream of his before.

“Oh, you look so handsome, my baby. Are you having a good time?”

His mother’s voice cuts through his hazy daydreams as she plops down on the chair next to him. No matter how old he gets, Jamie doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of his mother’s affection. Her unshaken faith in him and her unwavering belief that he is a good man, after all.

“You’re my mum, you have to say that.”

“Absolutely not! Remember when you had that dangly earring? I told you right out you looked like a muppet.”

“Yeah you did,” he nods and takes a sip of his beer “Crushed me, honestly. Loved that earring. Thought I looked well cool.”

“Well, you know who didn’t hate it? (Y/N).”

That gets his attention. Eyebrows raised he takes his eyes off of the girl in question and turns fully towards his mother.

“How would she know? She didn’t see it.”

“Yes, she did. I showed her a picture when we had girls night.”

It's a nice image, his mum and (Y/N) having girls night. Sure, having them team up on him is terrifying, but he can't help but relish in the fact that his loves love each other so dearly.

"Girls night, huh? You ladies talk about me a lot then?"

"Are you joking?"

The way his mum raises her eyebrow is so familiar. It's the same damn expression he sees in himself all the time.

"That girl has been in love with you since you were kids. Of course, we talk about you a lot. You're all we talk about, Jamie. "

As a kid, Jamie always wondered what it felt like to put your finger straight into an electrical outlet. He never did it, obviously. But there was some strong curiosity there.

This is what it must feel like. Hearing his mother say that (Y/N) is in love with him, that's what it must feel like

Electric shocks straight to the heart.

“What?”

His mum just shakes her head, there’s that smile pulling at her lips. That typical mother's smile that tells you that they know you so much better than you know yourself.

“Come on now, Jamie. You know this is how she feels, everyone does. She adores you. Same way you adore her. That is how you feel, isn’t it?”

Of course, it is. She’s everything. She feels like an ocean being warmed by the sun. Warm and inviting and comforting. Beautiful. Tender. Soft.

“Don’t matter really, does it? We haven’t talked in so long. Doubt she even knows me well enough anymore.”

“She watches every match, goes to most of them if she can. She even bought that video game you’re on. Girl is almost as proud of you as I am. Look love, “ Mum rests a gentle hand on his arm. “I don’t know half the things that are bothering you right now but I do know that you’re struggling. I just want you to know that you are not a bad person, Jamie. The little boy you used to be deserved to be loved and so does the man you are now. You made bad choices but you still deserve love. We all make bad decisions sometimes. I know I made a lot of them when I was younger.”

“Hah, like having me.”

He passes it off as a joke but there’s a hint of truth swinging along. She was really young when she had him and while he knows she doesn’t resent him for it, he wonders if maybe her life would’ve turned out better had he not come along. Mum loves him unconditionally and she always makes sure he knows it so it’s a silly thing to think about really. It’s a fleeting thought and it really only shows itself when he’s already deep in his thoughts but when it does, it sends him spiraling.

The slap to the arm is not friendly or in good humor, that one is meant to sting.

“Don’t you ever say that again. You are my life, Jamie. I love you. Having you was the best decision I’ve ever made. You hear me?”

It’s dumb really, he knows Mum loves him. It’s always been them against the world (or well, them against dad, really). But sometimes his head gets so loud and fills itself with stupid thoughts.

“Yeah, of course. Sorry. I love you, mama.”

“Love you too, my baby boy. And I am so proud of everything you ever did, okay? Except maybe the earring.”

A chuckle falls from Jamie’s lips. “The earring was a bad idea, I got it.”

“Good. Now go dance with your girl, yeah? You two are driving me crazy.”

His girl. His girl wraps her arms around his neck when he walks up to her on the dancefloor. His girl looks up at him with the most radiant smile. His girl who feels like the sun and smells like lavender and wraps his heart in silk and sweet memories.

“Finally, thought I was going to have to drag you onto the dancefloor. You still owe me a dance.”

“Sorry. Not much of a slow dancer, yeah? I do know some great boy band choreographies though, and the cha-cha slide.”

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Coach made us learn a full N'sync routine for Doctor Sharon's going away party. She didn't show up but I was fucking ace. I’m sure Keeley has a video of it somewhere.”

She grants him a smile though it doesn't reach her eyes.

"How is Keeley? How are you guys?"

There's an edge to her words and if he didn't know better he'd call it jealousy. But that doesn't make sense … right?

There's no him and Keeley, at least not in the way she's asking about. There never will be. Keeley is one of his favorite people but her friendship means so much more than any fickle try on upholding a relationship doomed to fail. Jamie thinks there's something brave and mature about that realization.

"She's good. We're good. Friends I mean. Good friends."

"No more dating?"

"Nah she's dating one of my best friends. Hated it at first but they're kinda perfect for each other. It's a bit disgusting, really."

Those words manage to pull the smile all the way up to reach her eyes. It's magnificent. Spectacular. A laugh tumbles from her lips, a sound so sweet if he were to taste it, he's sure it would put the most delicious honey to shame.

"You know," Jamie speaks and pulls her closer as they absentmindedly sway along to the music " I never thanked you."

"For what?"

"For the phone call that one night."

It was just after Manchester had kicked him out. No one wanted to sign him. He had burned bridges with everyone who ever stood by him and gave him a chance and Jamie had never felt more lost and more alone.

He just needed someone. A piece of home. A reminder of the 9-year-old boy who loved football for the fun of it all. He needed her.

He hadn't expected her to pick up that night, he really didn’t deserve it. But she did. Of course, she did. She always did.

"You don't have to thank me for that, Jamie. You are you and I am me and I will always pick up the phone for you."

It's such a simple thought. The most basic of all concepts. You are you and I am me and there will always be a space for us in my life and yours.

"I just - I felt very alone and lost and I hated the person I was then. It was like I was some boat or something, stuck on a cliff. And then when I talked to you and you had my back anyway it was like all my fears that I told you about suddenly disappeared, you know? Like you sent me a wave, a flood and gave my boat a lift over the rocks. I know it sounds fucking silly but Ted has me reading all these books with the big words. Making me feel all smart and philosophical."

She's so gentle when she combs her fingers through his hair, tugging some strands back behind his ear. He will never grow tired of soft touches and even softer looks.

"Jamie, even if I didn't like the person you were then, I loved you anyway. I don't have to like you to love you. Loving someone means accepting that they make mistakes but giving them room to become the person you know they can be. You wanted to change for the better and honestly, I think you turned out pretty spectacular."

Jamie isn’t quite sure if he will ever grow used to receiving love in the form of comforting words and soft touches but he truly relishes in it, always.

"Do you wanna get out of here? Party is about to wind down anyway. Don't think anyone's gonna miss us."

The night feels heavy with possibility.

"Sure, Jam. Where do you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter. Nowhere. Anywhere. As long as I'm with you."

The glimmer in her eyes tells him she has an idea.

The bench by the side of the field looks the exact same it did when he was a kid. Chipping red paint and rotting wood. Initials in permanent marker forever immortalizing past versions of whoever wrote them down. Time forever frozen.

Jamie is 9 years old again and he is also 11 and 13 and 16 and 25. It’s all the same. It’s all so different.

The field is no field anymore, it’s now a proper little football pitch with a goal on each side.

“What happened here then? That wasn’t there when we were little.”

(Y/N) strolls across the field, twirling in her dress illuminated by the moon and the streetlamps. She looks like something out of a movie. He’s sure if he was a smarter man, more poetic, he’d be writing songs about her, poems, books.

In that book Ted made him read, there’s this one line that Jamie suddenly remembers.

“She was dazzling-- alight; it was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance”

He thought those were just big words for saying some girl was well fit. He thinks he might get it now.

“Yeah well, some of us put together some money and convinced the neighborhood council to finally turn it into a proper pitch.”

“Some of you?"

“Mostly your mum, Simon, and I”

She meets his eyes across the field and his heart still does the same silly shimmy it did when he first saw her face.

“Why?”

“So another little 9-year-old kid gets to play with actual goals and doesn’t have to use plastic bottles.”

They did it for the kids, the community. But they mostly did it for him, for the child in his heart that never grew up. That is clinging to his insides and that only gets to live in his memories and in the hearts of the people he loves. The people that love him.

(Y/N) leans against one of the goalposts, a smile playing on her lips as Jamie strolls up to stand in front of her, hands buried in the pockets of his pants. His jacket is long forgotten on some chair back at the wedding venue.

“You know”, she says and lets her gaze drift upwards towards the sky. There is too much light to see the stars but Jamie thinks there’s still some kind of comfort knowing they are up there even when you can’t see them. The authors of the books Ted gives him, they’d have some flowery pretentious allegory to tell about all of this. He is no author, he's just a fool in love.

“This is where I had my very first kiss. Right here.”

Jamie wonders if she knows of the little electric shocks she sends straight to his heart when she lowers her head and looks straight at him while speaking those words.

It’s not news to him. Of course, it’s not.

He was there.

“Oh, was it?”

“Yup.”

“Hope the lad was alright.”

“He was perfect — for a twelve-year-old. I was also 12 though so I had nothing to compare, really.”

“What was he like? Lucky kid.”

“He had this really badly bleached blond hair. Tried to do it at home with a cheap box dye. Didn’t listen when I told him it was a bad idea.”

“I bet he looked fucking cool.”

“Had a bit of an ego, that one. Still does. Bit misplaced for someone who looked like Draco Malfoy.”

“You had a big fat crush on Draco Malfoy.”

“Yeah,” he doesn’t know when it happens. One moment they’re joking around, strolling down memory lane and the next her hand is in his hair, his hand on her waist, noses almost touching. “I did.”

“Do you wanna know a secret?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That was my first kiss too.”

There’s a flicker of surprise shining in her eyes.

“Huh? You said your first kiss was with Emma behind the playground.”

“Well I was lying, wasn’t I? Wanted you to think I’m cool and experienced.”

“We were 12 you dum dum. And I always thought you were cool.”

He was not cool at 12. No one is cool at 12. It still makes him weirdly proud to hear her say it. 12-year-old Jamie would be positively buzzing at that revelation.

“I um — Jamie, why did we never talk about it again? I know we were 12 and whatever but it meant something to me. Did it mean anything to you?”

Some memories, Jamie thinks, are meant to be shared. You want to tell everyone about them over and over again and it feels like you might burst if you don’t share them with others.

And then there are memories that are meant just for you. Beautiful places to escape to. So you keep them hidden in your chest, apart from everything else but your heart when they beat in sync. And they become part of you. And they keep you alive. That’s where he keeps this kiss. The first one. The only one that ever mattered.

“It means everything to me. But I — I wanted to keep that kiss to myself. That was mine and yours and I didn’t want anyone or anything to ruin that or turn it into something bitter and sad. “

“If I were to kiss you again, would you also want to keep that a secret?”

He shakes his head, his nose gently nudging her’s with the movement.

“Nah, I’d wanna scream it from the fucking rooftops.”

When she kisses him he is 9 years old again, seeing his future staring right back at him through the face of a little girl. He is 12 years old kissing her in the field, a kiss he’d kept with his heart ever since. He is 14 crying on the floor of her room the night he got back from the Amsterdam trip with his dad. He is 16 and a prick to everyone but her.

He is 25 and more in love than he’s ever been.

“50 fucking pence? Are you joking?”

“Nope. Dead serious.”

“That’s fucking mental.”

Her laughter echoes through the night as they walk down the familiar streets paved with countless memories. He#s holding her hand and he’s never felt more delighted about anything so simple.

“They still taste fucking great though.”

“They do, don’t they?”

Leave it to (Y/N) to continuously surprise him. As they started their walk back towards her house, she pulled two Cadbury Freddos from her sparkly purse. Jamie can almost feel the sun on his skin from all the walks they did to the corner shop during summer holidays to get some Freddos and a smarties pop-up ice.

“Don’t tell Roy I ate chocolate though, he’s gonna kick me ass.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Her childhood home is coming into view just down the road and with it the end of this night. The door is a deep red color, he remembers (Y/N) helping her dad paint it when she was maybe 10 or 11 and her parents never seemed to have changed it since.

“Soooo what’s happening now?”

It feels a little silly to ask but Jamie has spent so much time keeping his questions inside of his head and not voicing them to her and he wonders just how much time he wasted because of that. Time he could’ve spent with (Y/N).

“I — I don’t know, Jamie. I want this to be. I want us to be, always did. Probably always will. But I don’t want you to choose me because being home pushed you into some kind of nostalgia-induced stupor or something. I want you to be sure about us. So, how about you sleep on it and tomorrow morning you pick me up for breakfast and we’ll talk? “

If he’s being entirely honest, he doesn’t want to talk. All he wants is to kiss her and then kiss her some more. To make up for every second that he wasted not telling her how he felt. But she is being rational and sensible as always and he has to respect that. Out of the two of them, she was always the reasonable one while Jamie did first and then thought about it later.

“Okay yeah. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Goodnight, Jam.”

“Night, (Y/N). You look beautiful by the way, not sure I said it.”

“Thanks, you look very handsome too.”

There’s an I love you on the tip of his tongue and he so desperately wants to say it but when she places a kiss on his cheek and opens the red door, all his thoughts just slip from his mind.

“Bye, Jamie.”

“Bye.”

He stays stuck for a moment or two before his legs slowly carry him down the road. The night is inky black and the street lamps' horrid orange-hued light reflects against the asphalt.

So many times he’s walked down this exact road wondering what could be. Wondering how to show her how much he loved her. Wondering if someday, somehow they would end up together.

9-year-old Jamie knew she was his destiny from the moment their eyes met across the football field. What would he think seeing him now, walking away from all he ever wanted?

What’s that quote from that romcom the team watched together the other day?

“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

The shiny black shoes he’s wearing are not meant for running. He figures that out as he turns on the spot and rushes back down the street toward the red door. There is no need for him to sleep on anything. He has never been more sure about anything in his life. Ever.

His heart is racing as he reaches the house, as he knocks on the door, and as he rings the doorbell — for good measure.

His heart stops when she opens the door, her dress gone and exchanged for a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

“Jamie? You forgot something?”

“I don’t need to sleep.”

“What?”

“I don’t need to sleep on it. I know what I want. I want us, I want you. Always did. Always will. You’re the only person I want to talk to when I feel shit and you’re the first person I want to tell when something good’s happened. I want to ride my bike with you the way we did when we were kids and eat freddos with you even if they’re 50 fucking pence now, which is insane. I want to go to weddings with you and dress up fancy and I want to sit on the couch and watch movies with you we’ve both seen a million times. I want you to make fun of my stupid earring and have you help me dye my hair and I want to kiss you and tell you how beautiful you are every single fucking day. I want everything and anything as long as it involves you. And I don’t need to sleep on it. I am sure.”

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?!”

“Kiss me!”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

It feels right, to hold her and to kiss her. Like all his life has been leading up to this moment. To her soft lips on his and her hands in his hair and his hands on her waist.

And he thinks she might just feel the same. She doesn’t need to say it to let him know. She tells him with his tongue, with the gentle touch of her fingers against his skin, with her breath in his lungs.

He is 9 years old and also 12 and also 14 and 16 and 20 and 25. He is all those versions of himself and each of them was and is in love with (Y/N).

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt oneshot

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soapsilly · 4 months

Text

My Kind of Woman - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: Zoro being love drunk - and also a little drunk drunk - for (Y/N). A short story inspired by Mac DeMarco - My Kind Of Woman.

Requests are closed

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

It was late... or rather early? Did it really count as the next morning when you never even went to sleep? There weren't very many people left - most of them had already gone home or were passed out. Nothing unusual for the feasts the Straw Hats would have regularly after a big fight. The huge bonfire had gone out hours ago but there embers still glimmered red and hot. Somewhere, Brook was still playing a song on his guitar. It was slow and almost sultry.

Zoro was more than a little buzzed as he watched (Y/N) drunkenly sway to the music. He was mesmerized by her. The way her hips moved to the music so perfectly. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the tunes, a small smile present on her face. He knew she was dancing for herself only, not to impress any of those men that were there this evening, not even for him. That didn't stop the swordsman from still watching the woman intently though. Zoro sometimes couldn't believe the effect she had on him. All the little nicknames, the nights they spent together, small kisses and hidden touches. It was all so foreign to Zoro but strangely he didn't mind at all.

"Here", she pushed something in his hands.

"What's this?", he blinked a few times.

"My wanted poster. It has a picture of me on it... It'll last longer", she winked at him.

The swordsman grinned stupidly as he unfolded the paper in his hands.

He took another swig of his drink, letting the taste linger in his mouth, watching the way her arms snacked themselves around herself in a soothing hug, a bottle of liquor dangling in her hands. He wasn't a dancer but his mind almost automatically imagined himself in her arms, swaying to the music. Oh, the things she did to him...

She was everything for him. How could a woman like her ever stay with a guy like him? He was stubborn. A brute. Not romantic in the slightest. And yet she was always by his side, making sure he ate, slept, rested. That shitty cook liked to remind Zoro that she was too good for him every chance he got - any maybe he was right - but as long as she would have him he'd do everything for her.

"Are you serious? You need to rest! Your wounds haven't even healed properly and here you are training again already! I'm not gonna stay and watch you kill yourself"

"Leave then, I never asked you to be here anyways", Zoro regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

"You're an idiot, do you know that?", she told him before leaving the room.

He was sure he had permanently fucked things up with her this time, kicking himself over it, but in the evening (Y/N) came up to him.

"You shouldn't talk to me this way"

"I'm sorry", he meant it. He really did. He expected her to tell him to get lost, to not talk to her again but instead she hugged him. He didn't understand why she stuck right next to him, but he didn't dare to vocalize his thoughts, afraid of putting ideas in her head.

As if under a spell, he made his way over to her. He would blame the alcohol in the morning but he knew it was her that had this intoxicating effect on him. He knew the guys would tease him for his public display of affection but he didn't care. All he cared about right now was (Y/N). When he hugged her from behind, she didn't even hesitate as she turned around nuzzling her face in the nape of his neck.

"Didn't take you for a dancer"

"Couldn't help myself "

For a moment the two of them just stood there, swaying to the music, enjoying each others company.

"'M tired...", she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Want me to bring you back to the Sunny?", he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

"Only if you join me"

She didn't have to ask twice as he easily scooped her into his arms to carry her back to the Sunny. He'd never understand how he deserved a woman like her. He never was the romantic type but with her it was different. She was his kind of woman.

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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whalesforhands · 10 months

Note

MY GOD YOUR GETO X READER X GOJI FICS SCRATCH AN ITCH IN MY BRAIN AND THE SHOKO CRUSH ADDITION?!?!? ABSOLUTELY DIVINE I TELL YOU!!!! Part 3 had me hurting ngl like ouch man but it inspired some angst *rubs hands evilly* what if one day after a tough mission reader is just feeling super down and tired and weak and is abt to cry and runs into Gojo and Geto who (not knowing any better) start teasing her abt her abilities and cursed technique etc not knowing her mental state and she just snaps and starts crying and yelling at them abt if all they think of her is a joke then they should just leave her alone instead of messing around with her feelings and runs off. Shoko is the one to find her and comforts her while Gojo and Geto are left gobsmacked and stricken with guilt. I’ll let you imagine how they realize what idiots they are and try to fix their huge screwup. Also I’m so glad you’re writing for Geto x reader x Gojo there’s hardly any fics on here with that pairing and not smut (not that I don’t love that too but I want PAIN and DRAMA and SHENANIGANS) and your fics give me just that so ty

anon i’m going to cry i finally got another ask. i thought ppl hated me bro. ur so cute for such a detailed and compliment filled ask, anon

i write 2 gs x reader bcs it never feels right knowing that they are without each other. i need them to be happy 😭😭

anyways, eat up

dread creeps around the corner (gojo x reader x geto, shoko x reader)

warnings: angst to fluff, y’all making me consider quitting smut writing to become a full time PG writer cause these are way more fun

You think the weariness of life is catching up to you.

Your body felt heavy, your feet dragging as your back was hunched over. Your staff strapped to your back as your eyesight started to blur.

Your backpack seems even heavier today too. You were sure you packed light.

Another mission, another near-miss. How many times would you be able to just make it out with your life? How many times until your luck finally ran out?

Why weren’t you improving? Why weren’t your techniques breaking past their limit quicker? What are you doing wrong?

Why are you so weak?

Perhaps you just aren’t cut out for savi- No.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts as you sense the familiar energy begin to surround you.

“Little Miss Barrierrrrrr!” An arm latched itself onto your shoulders as weight suddenly pressed itself down onto you, the sudden pressure causing you to stumble backwards, only for the arm to support you and keep you upright on your feet.

“How was your mission?” Gojo’s loud voice rang throughout your ears, it’s sheer volume grating and painful. His hand going round to the strap of your backpack, tugging it off of you and onto his own shoulder.

The other presence flanked your side, before you felt the weight of your staff disappear from your back, leaving you empty handed as the two sorcerers smiled down at you.

You took a breath in.

“It… It was-“ Horrible. Tragic. You survived by the skin of your teeth once again. You struggled to find the strength to describe it in more detail.

“Fine.”

Gojo grins as you felt Geto’s hand pat your head.

“Sounds like code for, ‘You struggled!’” He laughs, patting your back. “My Six Eyes tell me your cursed energy barely improved after that mission too. Should I ask Yaga to assign you harder ones? Maybe with us?”

Your body stills. It… Barely improved? You gave that mission your best shot.

You heard Suguru laugh as he smacked Satoru’s arm, ridding his arm off your shoulder as he replaced it with his own.

“It’s alright,” Suguru began. “Don’t listen to him. Improving takes time anyway.”

Takes… Time? How hypocritical does he have to be to tell you that? He, along with the gifted Gojo Satoru, had immense cursed energy from the beginning. Their talent innate, their improvement expedited with little to no training.

Self-sufficient, talented, never having to try too hard to far surpass the standards of average. Exceptional. Things that you never were, never will be.

Frustration had built up, your emotions starting to light aflame. With desperation, with aggravation. Why did it always feel like they looked down upon you?

“Helloooo? Earth to Miss Protection? Ya there?” Gojo waved his hand in front of your face.

Seeing no response, he reached a hand out to caress your cheek.

“Gosh, if you’re going to be so distracted, I might just ki-“

You slap his hand away before he could touch you. Eyes alight with anger, you looked straight at him, throwing Geto’s arm off your shoulders.

“If you think I’m so weak, then just leave me alone!”

The air grew tense. Your tears were beginning to well up.

“I- I know I’m weak, okay?! You don’t have to rub it in all the time! B-but I’ve tried! I’ve tried too hard for you to tell me that I’m not doing enough!” The dam broke, your cheeks streaked with your tears as your stutters caused you to grow embarrassed.

Why can’t you even express your anger more courageously?

You turned tailed and ran away. Your sobs making themselves more apparent the more you ran, the more your legs burned.

You were such an embarrassment.

Settling by a creek, your legs bundled up to your chest as you cried into your knees. You don’t know how long you’ve been here crying your stress out. Your eyes were puffy, stress not leaving your body as you sat still, listening to the gentle pitter patter of the rain beginning to fall upon you.

Can the day really not get any worse?

You wanted to laugh at yourself as you felt the rain begin to drench your uniform. It was your last clean one. You need to do the laundry again soon.

As the rain poured down on you, it suddenly stopped. A shadow had overcome your figure, providing you shelter.

Cigarette smoke and a hint of a citrusy fragrance.

Shoko.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

You stay silent. You didn’t expect to be found. Nor did you even feel like talking right now. You bury your face deeper into your folded arms, trying to hide. You don’t want to be seen as weak by Shoko.

It stays that way for a moment. Silent, besides the gentle patter of the rain.

“It’s not,” She began. “It’s not weak to cry when you’re sad. Not in front of me.” Assurance. She was comforting you.

You felt her settle next to you, getting her skirt wet.

She gently adjusted your head to rest on her shoulder.

“Cry all you want. I’ll be here.”

And you did. Sobbing, fingers digging into her uniform as your tears and snot mixed into her clothing.

You didn’t notice her other shoulder getting wet with rain as she held the umbrella up over the both of you.

——

You were holding her arm with both of your own as she walked you back to the dorms.

You were ready to take a shower, collapse onto your bed and cry even more. Too much stress has built up.

What you didn’t expect was to see the duo settled on your carpeted floor.

They scrambled up to their feet almost instantaneously.

You sniffled, your eyes red and weary as you held Shoko’s arm tighter.

Geto spoke first, a hand of his outstretched to touch you before he willed it back to his side. “I- We’re very sorry. It wasn’t our intention to hurt you.”

He never wanted to make you feel inferior.

Gojo’s eyes were downcast, sight seemingly stuck to the floor before he raised his gaze to be directly looking at you.

“You’re not weak. You just need more training.”

Geto elbowed his side as you heard Shoko sighed exasperatedly beside you.

“Ow!” The white haired sorcerer exclaimed. “Oh, and uh, I- I’m sorry… Too.” He rubbed at his torso where Suguru had landed his hit.

“Hopeless…” You heard her murmur. Strangely, you didn’t feel taken aback by Gojo’s seemingly insincere apology.

You found it funny. You giggled, desperately trying to not let them see as a hand came up to slap itself over your mouth, your eyes beginning to light up with joy.

“It’s-“ You tried to speak through your silent laughter. “It’s- Okay.” Getting ahold of yourself, you remove your hand.

“I forgive you.” You smiled.

“We bought you pizza as an apology by the way.”

“You’ll join us, right?”

masterlist

Note:

Geto, Gojo and Shoko thought your laughter was cute, especially after seeing how hard you cried.

Surprisingly, Geto and Gojo were fighting over who was to pay for the pizzas. They both wanted to pay for you. Shoko watched, amused by their fighting as she paid for it at the counter whilst they were too busy wrestling.

You never thought you’d get so hungry after crying so hard. You ate nearly half of the whole damn thing before Geto went to order some more.

Gojo thought it was adorable how you were stuffing your cheeks like a pig.

Shoko licked some sauce off your face as you were eating, you blushed so hard and told her she’d make an amazing wife.

“Just because of some sauce?!?! I can do that too-!”

#geto x reader x gojo #geto x reader #gojo x reader #getou suguru x reader x gojo satoru #shoko ieiri x reader #jjk x reader #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #whalewrites #satosugu x reader #dyf au

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writerblue275 · 3 months

Text

Heartsteel Ranking: “Scary boyfriend privilege”

(AKA how intimidating they are to people who don’t know them.)

Inspiration: I’ll be honest this is a bit of a random ranking but I thought it would be fun to do and it was!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Ranking

Type: Fluff? This is meant in a funny way.

Tw: Small mention of alcohol (drink responsibly y’all), and swearing (because I do, in fact, have the mouth of a damn sailor.)

List goes least intimidating to most intimidating.

LEAST

Ezreal (One of these days I will do a ranking that doesn’t put him at the bottom! I swear it’s not intentional! 😂)

Let’s be honest no one is shocked he’s here, right? Where else was Ez going to go on this list?? This isn’t a bad thing though! He just gives off such golden retriever energy and it’s amazing and I love him. I want to be at least best friends with HS Ezreal.

Despite the usual happy golden retriever energy, he’s definitely not afraid to tell people off/protect you though. (I feel like he secretly has quite a temper. He’s a Sagittarius after all [love my fellow 🔥 signs WOOT WOOT]. Usually he’s very good about keeping it under control…but if someone [besides you, he absolutely adores you] pushes him too far [ex: by making you uncomfortable]…just see what happens.)

Aphelios

You absolutely have scary boyfriend privilege with Aphelios, but I just can’t rank him higher than any of the other members below. He definitely has that “brooding silent type” down pat, and when he’s wearing his mask, that’s doubled. That air of mystery, baby, he’s got that in SPADES.

We also know he’s tall. Like not Sett, K’Sante, or Yone tall, but he’s got some height on him (unconfirmed 6’). Physically, he’s definitely more intimidating than Ez. Like imagine Phel silently staring daggers at someone. Lmao I’d hate to be whoever pissed him off.

K’Sante

Most of this comes from his height (unconfirmed 6’4”) and the fact he’s one of the gym bros. Like general vibe/personality-wise, I think Phel could be more-intimidating than K’Sante (or even Sett), but have you seen how just MASSIVE K’Sante is? HE CAN CANONICALLY BENCH SETT. Like 😮😮😮

Not to mention I feel like he’d always stick close to you in public, so no one would even dream of trying to do anything to you. (Unless they’re a whole dumbass.) K’Sante genuinely gives me very kind vibes, but he definitely protects those he loves very fiercely.

Sett

Sett is (unconfirmed) 6’7” (at least confirmed the tallest in the group), and JACKED AS HELL. Not to mention “allergic” to sleeves so those arms are out most of the time lmao. Only a fucking moron (or someone who is incredibly drunk) would look at Settrigh and go “oh yeah I am absolutely going to mess with this guy.” RIP that idiot.

He also doesn’t fuck around about the safety of the people he loves. Sett genuinely seems like the sweetest guy (I love this giant, ripped, sewing himbo so fucking much oh my fucking god) but he can/will be intentionally intimidating if it’s necessary to keep you or Ma safe (the two most important figures in his life 🥺). Will walk you home/keep you close to him in crowded situations. He always wants you to feel safe when you’re with him (you absolutely do like how could you not?).

Kayn

So this is based on both appearance and reputation. Obviously Kayn has quite the reputation from his last band (as well as being kicked out of it.) Appearance-wise, he’s not super tall, but he’s tall enough. Not to mention the piercings, tattoos, the fact he’s also in excellent shape (I mean we all saw those abs 😏), has vibrant dyed hair, a very bright red eye, and he is a total metal head. He can also, um, travel through WALLS. (Small detail lol.)

DO I EVEN HAVE TO MENTION RHAAST (even as his stage alter ego)???? Kayn can be pretty impulsive and sometimes acts first, thinks later. (He’s currently working on that with Yone, it’s fine.) Someone would be a damn fool to fuck with him or you. He just gives me very loyal guard dog vibes. (I mean he did wear the damn leash in the mv so….😝)

Yone

There is no one (let me repeat: NO ONE) I’d want to fuck with less than Yone. This man has quintessential resting bitch face (RBF), is like 6’ 2-3” (unconfirmed), in very good shaped (based on the lovely titty window of his outfit. Thank you, Riot designers) and is able to (mostly) wrangle the rest of the group. Also (hella obvious but) HE’S AN INTROVERT (INFJ specifically). People are NOT his thing (fucking MOOD).

Yone is the one who gives the most similar vibes to the TikToks I’ve seen that show cosplayers at Cons with their scarier-dressed friends/partners following behind them keeping them safe. (For Yone, it’s the RBF/air of mystery that really sets the tone.) He gives me such mature gentleman vibes as well. He’s always going to walk you home especially at night, or he’ll stay by your side in a crowd and you are just going to feel really safe with him. Top-tier scary boyfriend privilege right there.

Most

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Ok so the least and most intimidating were extremely obvious to me. It was everyone else in between that made things difficult. This was really fun to write though, even if the concept is a bit silly! 😂

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel fluff #Heartsteel ranking #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone

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florenceafternoon · 5 months

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah

An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"

I recommend you listen to About You while reading this

Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)

Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."

I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab

Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)

Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.

This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.

on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)

Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.

When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean

Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.

OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.

The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love

The Season by @missgryffin

This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."

I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).

A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)

A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."

My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."

chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)

foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)

answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.

The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction

Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.

A classic that everyone should read

Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."

One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away

Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.

Trackside by @hogwartslivy

James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.

When my two obsessions meet

it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee

A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.

Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus

Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)

Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."

Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.

See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)

Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.

Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood

Nom De Plume by @annabtg

James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?

(Rated E for later chapters)

Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it

victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)

(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."

Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo

Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor

Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."

some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux

Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.

Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."

Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily

The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together

Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97

The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?

Lily and Remus are me

and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders

“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”

Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.

What the summery said

The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.

The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting

Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)

Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.

Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)

Jump (For My Love)

Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.

Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.

The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).

The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it

A Game Of Thrones

Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?

Euphemia Potter you will always be famous

flowers

A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."

Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for

If You Knew Who Was Talking

hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.

In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.

If only they knew who was talking.

FOOLS the both of them.

glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya

For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.

everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill

Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."

Is this not the dream?

fastening myself to you with a stitch

Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."

it's all happening without me

Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.

A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.

Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."

Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions

It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -

Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful

When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.

So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.

Or so she very dearly hopes…

Tonight Feels Impossible

But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.

To All The Kudos I've Left Before

Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.

James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.

What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."

The title says it all ❤ ❤❤

#jily fic rec #jily #lily evans #james potter #jple

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