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#thank you very much for asking honestly I can't believe someone asked me something I feel blessed by that actually
fairycosmos · 3 days
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I'm sorry to do this bc I know you get so many ppl venting and you have your own shit to deal with and yet ppl on here constantly implicitly ask you to console them which is incredibly emotionally labour intensive. However all that being said. I found out my cat who is 9 but is very young looking and active and shows no sign of pain or suffering has large cell lymphoma (general prognosis 6-9 months) and I'm literally broken. She's my best friend. I've been through years where I've had no friends but I've always had her and she's everything to me and I've known a lot of cats who live to late teens so I had expected that for her and this has come out of nowhere and is just so soul destroying because she is my whole world and I love her so so much. she's literally saved my life (have been at the point of kms so many times but didn't for her) and now she probably wont be here next year and I don't know how to keep existing without her and I didn't know who else to tell. I really appreciate your kind and honest presence on this site it's very cleansing and healing and ik this is a parasocial thing to say/feel but you are like a friend to so many. so thanks. even just having a space to say this stuff is invaluable. You have helped and comforted and offered love and insight to so many people despite your own suffering. Much love to you, I hope the universe treats you with lots of kindness going forward.
i am so so sorry to hear this - sometimes i honestly can't believe how cruel life can be. i wish there was something tangible i could say that would make a change to what you're feeling but my experience with grief (all types of grief esp preemptive grief like what you're dealing with) has proven to me that words often ring hollow when you're going through it. i do want to offer some understanding and some comfort despite that, i just know it may be hard for you to register right now and that's alright. losing a pet is so so deeply painful and it's completely normal to be devastated and taken aback by this news - anyone would be. at the same time it sounds like your cat is deeply lucky to have you and to be loved so completely by someone. while what you're both going through is horrific, i am so glad she has you to take care of her and that she ended up having a wonderful life with you - the gift you have given her and continue to give her every day just by being her owner is huge and i hope you continue to remind yourself that as you confront there next few months. she is warm and fed and taken care of and she has the best chance of living longer with her condition bc of the care and love you continue to show her. i know this is much much easier said than done but please try to take it one day at a time and make every moment count with her - it's easy to get lost in the idea of losing her but she is still here and you still have time together, albeit not as much time as you both deserve. i can't stand how much of a gamble of luck everything seems to be and how horrible things happen to ppl and animals who truly deserve so much more - that anger, despair and incredulity still hits me day after day and i feel it very hard on your behalf rn. you have every right in the world to process that sense of feeling like your soul has been destroyed on whatever timeline works for you. as long as you continue to move forward, hour to hour or minute to minute despite it all.
are you able to talk to any friends/family about this? i only ask bc pet loss is one of the hardest things in the world to go through and i think having some sort of super system could make the days feel a little more manageable. if not, please feel free to message me and share updates, stories, vents etc about your cat and how you're doing - i lost my childhood dog a few yrs back and i do understand. it's such a heavy feeling to carry around with you all the time. i would also recommend joining a pet loss support group as another option too, bc so so many people sadly completely get what youre going through. i hope your little girl is doing OK today and that you are taking care of yourself as much as you feel able to as you process this news. if you need to break down, go to sleep, scream, punch pillows, be numb - that's alright. there's no wrong way to react to this. i just hope you give yourself some grace as you do. sending so so much love to you both - and thank you so much for the insanely kind words by the way. you didn't have to say that and it really made my night better that you did. so sorry you're in this position. X
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wake me from this eternal slumber, rumor has it, a kiss is all it takes; i'm no fairytale but your lips might make me one.
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jh86 x reader: you've sworn off frat boys, but maybe just one more?
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (m on f) yay! we love exceptions, fingering, hair pulling and lips and limbs and all my usual stuff (you guys know what i'm about). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: well, favorites, my ex was in pike in undergrad, so you can thank him for 18k worth of a fantasy-level frat romance (i know, it's too much, i need to cut it down, but i can't. this is how i'm dealing with my breakup. leave me be). and, actually, don't thank him. thank me, because i worked really, really hard on this <3. there are a billion things that i ask you to take for granted, like how i included too many side characters, so i know it will be confusing, but i needed sleazy nh13 in there, okay? and i needed starboy pitcher lh43, and cc22 falling for his postgame reporter, and tz11 not being able to catch, and qh43 being a pawn in a president x president love story featuring alex turcotte. all of it was necessary for my healing process. i wanted to write something in which someone can drop into your life and rewrite all of the things you believe to be true. some star-crossed shit. so, this is my best shot. what is love, after all, but leaving your window open for fratboy jh86 to climb into? i was never actually in greek life, so all of this is based on what my friends have told me (sam is based on my irl best friend, fun fact). forgive me for any plot holes and inconsistencies. please, please, tell me what you think, because i love when you do, and tell me what you want next. thank you for your support. thank you for indulging my silly whims and most delusional daydreams. tell your snakes i love them. getting pretty busy up here in the real world, but until next time. go canucks. all my love).
this day, the first day of classes, had been a real disaster, honestly. what had been the worse part, even? it was hard to decide, with so many natural contenders.
would it be the alarm clock of your roommate, which had gone off for twenty minutes, until you had to get up yourself and shake her awake? or maybe the pop quiz in your lecture, on the very first day, when you forgot to do the reading? but, no, we can't forget the back to back to back texts from that guy, the one who mistook your general friendliness as romantic interest.
it had been a terrible day, genuinely, but this might be the worst of it, you thought, as you stood outside the tke house, on the sidewalk, waiting for your friends. your friends, who said they would be out ten minutes ago.
it was getting kind of brisk outside, and your outfit, compliant with the finance bros and business hoes theme, wasn't keeping you very warm. you looked down at your phone, tried to will a text from one of them into existence. you just wanted to go home, which, honestly, you probably should have already done by now. your sorority house was maybe a five minute walk down the row, but you didn't want to abandon your friends, and you didn't really want to make the walk alone, in the dark.
you could go back inside, you knew. but, this day had sucked, and you weren't in the mood to dance on an elevated surface tonight.
you opened the text conversation with your roommate, typed almost out? and hit send, before a deep voice pulled your head up.
"miss, is that an open container?" you looked up to find a stout officer of campus security shining his flashlight on you and your red plastic cup.
of course, because today was terrible, today would be the day that security cracks down on their no-open-containers-on-the-row rule. of course.
you looked into your solo cup, swirled around the pink liquid. what could you even say this was? the officer could probably smell the vodka in it from where he stood, a few feet away. honestly, it was probably better to just come clean. you'd get, what, a citation? hopefully a warning, if you could conjure up some tears?
you sighed, opened your mouth to spew some sob story, but you were cut off by some goofy voice coming from the door.
"there you are, baby!"
both you and the officer turned to face the voice, now an approaching figure.
your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out a face from the dim street light. you certainly were not anyone's baby. and you were fairly certain the only people who could have been wondering where you were would be the friends you came with, who had much more feminine voices.
before you could tell this guy he had the wrong idea, though, he slung a heavy arm around your shoulders, used it to pull you close to him before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, gentle, doting, fleeting.
you were about to shove this guy off of you, as he had obviously mistaken you for someone else.
"thanks for holding my drink for me," he said, then, taking your cup from your hand and downing it in one go.
you swallowed, your mind buzzing, not just with confusion but with the weight of his body against yours, the ghost of heat from his lips on your temple, the slightly muddled sandalwood scent of him so close. was he covering for you, this stranger? this stranger, who definitely could see your face, now, so there was no one he could be mistaking you for.
was he just being nice?
"'course, baby," you mustered, letting yourself lean into his embrace, hooking an arm around his waist. if he was going to get this officer off of your back, you'd let him.
your savior turned to face the shorter man in front of you both, as if noticing him for the first time. "oh, good evening, officer," he said, ever the gentleman. "can i help you?"
as the officer explained his presence with a gruff tone, you turned your neck to look at the face of the man who currently had his arm around you, whose lips on your forehead you could still feel like a purpling bruise.
you looked up at him, and your stomach flipped, because he was just so pretty. so much so that it flooded your gaze, made him hard to take in all at once. that fairytale profile, cut jaw, sharp cheekbones, soft slope of a nose. long, dark lashes that framed light blue eyes. grown out hair that curled around the brim of his backwards baseball cap, which read the letters tke in bold font. full, pink lips you had the sudden urge to tug on with your teeth.
uh oh, the gossip in your head whispered to her friends. we've seen this before. we know how this ends.
you could have shushed her.
"as you can see, officer, there's no liquid here, at least not anymore," the tke boy above you said with the voice of an experienced sweet-talker, smooth and sugary. "we wish we could be of more help, don't we, baby?"
he turned his gaze down to you, meeting your eyes directly for the first time. oceanic amusement met your careful skepticism, so electric and charged you swore the streetlight above you began to flicker.
"sure do," you said, reluctantly fixing your gaze on the officer and away from the mesmerizing face next to you.
the short man looked unconvinced, but switched his flashlight off anyways.
"have a good night, sir," you added, to which he muttered something and walked in the other direction.
you waited until he was out of earshot before lifting that warm arm from around your shoulders, crossing your own arms over your chest. "right," you began, "so, do i know you, or something?"
he tilted his head, let a bemused smile slant across his face, completely lopsided, completely endearing. "or something," he said, his eyes glinting, brimming over with mirth.
you furrowed your brow, shifted on your feet. "why did you come out here, then?" you asked. "and what was that whole act for?"
he sucked on his teeth for a moment, during which you took in his whole frame, his wide shoulders, tall build, strong stance.
uh oh is right, you thought to yourself, clasping your hands behind your back.
he shrugged, the movement making the muscles in his shoulders tense. you looked at your feet. "saw you come out here by yourself," he said, simply. "just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."
you narrowed your eyes, which made his gaze shimmer again.
"then i saw you with the security guy, and he's been camping out recently for their open container policy, so i figured i'd-"
"you figured you'd pretend that we're together?" you raised a brow. "awful dramatic, don't you think? could have just smacked the cup from my hand." you cringed internally as soon as you said this. you'd felt his hand on your side, and there was no chance that soft touch was capable of anything so harsh.
he just took a step closer to you, though, and part of you wanted to back away, but you didn't. you couldn't. "maybe i had selfish motives," he added, "maybe i wanted him to think i could pull a pretty girl like you, hm?"
you gave a slight scoff, the smallest shake of your head, before looking up at him again, finding him closer, looking at you like you were something special. something he wouldn't find again.
"okay, you can turn off the charm, now," you warned, more for your own sake than his. "what's your name?"
he stuck out his hand to shake yours, which felt wholly odd, given you could still feel his lips on your skin, like a brand, a scar. "i'm jack," he said, and you took his hand, gave it a shake as you offered him your own name in return.
"and you're in tke?" you asked, half-hoping he would laugh, nod you off, say that fraternities were stupid. hoping he wouldn't be a frat brother, so that he might still be on the table. so that you wouldn't have to walk away from him knowing exactly how he would hurt you if you gave him too much of a chance, too much of yourself.
he nodded though, and you could have sighed in disappointment. he was so, so pretty, but pretty wasn't good enough for your no frat boys rule. not after last time. "are you in a sorority?"
"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. this was a lie, you were in alpha phi, but you were hoping he'd lose interest as soon as you denied it, as so many greek-life boys did.
the light didn't blink out from jack's eyes though. "you must have a walk ahead of you then, if you're not on the row," he said. "i'll walk with you, it's dark."
you peered up at him, dubious. what was his angle, here? what would he have over you if you said yes?
luckily, you didn't have to answer, because you heard your roommate's voice from the door, now walking towards you. "'m so sorry, didn't see your text," she said, walking right past jack and pulling you in for a hug. "of course we can go. let's go back to the house, yeah?"
you nodded, returned her hug.
"the house?" jack's voice asked, to which your roommate pulled away from you, looked at him.
"yeah, a-phi," she said, skeptical. "um, who is this?" she elbowed you.
"this is jack," you explained, "he saved me from a safety citation. jack, this is my roommate, sam."
he nodded to her, which she returned. if jack had put together that you had just lied to his face about being in greek life, he didn't call you out on it, only smiling that goofy grin at you again, the one that awoke butterflies in your stomach, the one that had the street light rolling its eyes at you.
"well, jack, we're off," sam said, linking her arm in yours.
"goodnight, ladies," he said as the two of you set off down the sidewalk. "until you next need saving, baby."
you shook in a disbelieving laugh.
"baby?" sam whisper-screamed at you.
"i'll explain later," you told her.
you did explain later, that night, when the two of you were taking off your makeup in your mirroring vanities.
"i'm sorry, what?" sam said when you had finished recalling the night. "he quite literally kissed you?"
you flushed, waved her off. "barely," you said, "on the head."
"okay, sure," she mused, patting toner into her face. "sure, as if this isn't the longest you've talked about a guy since last year!"
you sighed. "it doesn't matter," you said, trying to make yourself believe it. "he's in tke. and i've sworn off frat guys, you know this."
"oh, i know this," she replied, "but rules are made to be broken."
"that's not right," you sing-songed.
"don't talk back to your president," she sung right back at you, using her position in the sorority as a trump-card, as she was so prone to doing.
"he's probably just like the rest of them," you reminded her, and yourself, "he's charming and sweet and lovely until he gets what he wants, and then he's gone."
the words hurt as you spoke them, jagged and sharp in your throat, like shards of glass. it hurt to think about your history with frat guys, the ones you'd let get close to you.
the guy from pike whom you had been seeing, sort of, for half a year, who had relished in the chase of it all, been so caring until you finally slept with him. and then he acted like you were nothing, not even worth a text. he had acted like you were crazy, delusional, for thinking your relationship went any deeper than sex.
he had all but laughed at you when you had suggested anything different. "i don't, like, do labels," he had told you. "you know that, right?"
you shuddered, now, thinking about how stupid, how utterly childish he had made you feel. thinking about how you had given the next guy, the one from lambda, a chance, about how he had done the same thing, with slightly different words, on a slightly different timeline.
you refused to feel that way again.
sam just shrugged. "i don't know, love," she said, "the way he was looking at you, back there, i swear, it was special."
you scrunched up your nose. "i'm not changing my mind. it's not worth it. he's not worth it."
something in the back of your mind twisted, though, because there was a trace of disbelief in your tone.
"whatever you say," sam said.
"now, tell me about your progress on project peace treaty," you said, hoping to change the subject, referring to sam's crush on the tke president.
one of your other friends had come up with the moniker after sam had been voted president herself, like a relationship between the two leaders would be some kind of deal between nations.
sam pretended to faint in her chair. "i don't know how much more obvious i can be," she whined. "i swear, i can't tell if he's just quiet or if he wants me to get the fuck away from him."
you rolled your eyes. "there's no way he's not into you," you said, and you meant it - sam was your best friend, and the best person you knew. if there was a way not to like her, you were unfamiliar with it.
she just shook her head. "you haven't talked to alex," she said, solemn. "he's, like, impossible to read." she shot you a look. "not all of us can have a tke brother wrapped around our finger after meeting once."
you threw a pillow at her, laughed her off, tried not to dream that night about starry blue eyes and soft lips on your temple.
the week passed, slowly, defined by welcome back mixers and new classes, new faces.
before you knew it, it was friday. you were exhausted, but you only had two classes today, the first of which passed quickly, the second of which was ballroom dance 101.
you had already had your first ballroom class on wednesday, so you knew it was fairly laid back, a good way to get some unit credits, a place to move around a bit before the weekend. you were, however, taking it alone. sam had been planning on taking it with you, but then an opening for a class she really needed had come up, and you had insisted you'd be fine on your own, that obviously her major credits were more important than this random elective dance class.
and it was fine, truly, if not a little less fun without her there. you waited patiently for the instructor to arrive, watching the little circles of friends stretch and chat. you leaned your back against the wall, crossed your arms over your chest, let your mind slow until you felt a presence next to you.
you glanced to your left, felt your heart stutter as you did a double take. "jack?" you asked, almost incredulous. if he looked pretty in the night, he looked downright distracting in the daylight, today in khakis and a polo shirt.
"hey, baby," he said, maybe a trace of smugness in his voice as he mirrored your lean, your posture. "how're you?"
this felt like a trap. he felt like a trap. your eyes narrowed. "you're in ballroom? since when?"
"since i switched into it, yesterday," he answered, simply and plainly, before his mouth quirked up. "is that what the experts are callin' it? just 'ballroom?'" he gave a facetious nod. "i like it. drop the 'dance,' 's too bulky."
you rolled your eyes, but laughed nonetheless. "we went over this kind of expert vocabulary on day one," you said with a shrug, "sorry you missed it."
the instructor clapped her hands, signaling her arrival, before beginning a stretching sequence on the floor.
"you're gonna dance in khakis?" you whispered to jack, who had taken the spot next to you as you both leaned forward to touch your toes.
"was i supposed to bring my tux?" he asked, which made you choke down a laugh. "or are we doing some kind of breakdancing i'm unaware of?"
"what, you don't have your handstand mastered?" you teased, "if you insist, but that's the foundation we're building from, just warning you."
"students, focus!" the instructor demanded, shooting you a glare, which you acknowledged with a nod before sharing a guilty smile with jack, like kids caught laughing too hard on the field trip bus.
after class, the both of you were planning on walking back to the row, so you just walked together, chatted pleasantly. the street was pretty in the daylight in a way it wasn't at night. there was something to be said, you thought, about being able to see everything clearly, about knowing exactly what you were looking at. and sure, there was beauty in mystery, and there was beauty in danger, but there was beauty in comfort, too.
"so, do you think i could get your number?" jack said, as you both turned the corner, the tke house now in clear view. his smile was easy. "for all the questions 'm gonna have about the tango?"
you let out a little laugh, thought for a moment. it was just your number, after all, and he said it was for class. it probably didn't mean anything. it was probably safe. "okay," you said, taking out your phone, handing it to him, "sure." your mouth quirked up as he put in his information, sent himself a text. "don't know how much help 'm gonna be, though."
he handed your phone back to you, that halfway grin on his pretty face. "you're right," he said, making his way towards his front door. "if anything, you'll just distract me from the steps, lookin' like that and all."
you looked down, shook your head, felt the gentle heat of a blush on your face. "focus up, then," you chided, gripping the straps of your backpack.
"oh, i'm focused, baby," he called out, "just not on dance."
you rolled your eyes at him as he smiled at your reaction, both of you saying your goodbyes. you heard his front door shut only when you had completely turned away, began to walk the few houses down the street.
when you got back to your room, you flopped down on your bed, breathing into your soft comforter, until you heard the door swing open again. you looked up.
"all good?" sam asked, raising a brow. she threw her bag and keys on the floor by her desk, slipped off her shoes, hopped up onto her bed, opposite yours.
"yeah," you said, sighed, then laughed, short and breathy. "remember that guy from last weekend?"
her eyes went wide, now alert. her posture straightened. "uh, your valiant hero in the face of danger? of course."
you laughed, then, more naturally this time, hugged a pillow to your chest. "he's in my dance class." you looked down at your hand, examined your fingernails. "and i gave him my number."
sam squinted at you. "okay," she said, slowly. "i know what i think about this, i think you know what i think about this." she tugged her hair elastic down, freeing her hair from the ponytail it had been in. "what do you think about this?"
you sucked on your teeth, thought for a moment. "i don't know," you said. "i guess i'm just confused. and worried. and i don't think i want him to text me first, but i also kind of want-"
a buzz from your phone interrupted you, and sam tilted her head back and groaned. "that's him, isn't it?" she asked. "that's definitely him."
and it shouldn't have been, you thought, there was no way it was him, because it had been what, ten minutes? you knew frat guys, and you knew it couldn't be him.
it was.
forgot to ask if you were coming tonight, he had texted, followed by told you you're distracting lol.
"i knew it," sam said, shaking her head, "i'm like an oracle. it's a gift, i know, but it's also a burden." she gestured for you to speak. "what's he say?"
"asked if i'm coming tonight," you said, looking up at her, "in all lowercase. and he said lol."
she waved you off. "non-issue," she declared.
"but, like," you pushed, giving her a look, "who taught him to use all lowercase?"
"doesn't matter," sam continued, "he called you baby and kissed you on the forehead. he gets a lowercase pass."
"so you're the oracle and the lawmaker?" you asked, teasing.
sam nodded seriously. "and the president," she finished.
you laughed, then sighed, began typing.
"what're you saying?" sam asked, leaning forward on her bed, as if she would be able to read your screen.
"just that 'm not going," you said. not tonight sry, you sent, followed by you might want to get that distraction thing checked out.
sam nodded. "what was their theme tonight? something bad, right?"
"country bros and rodeo hoes," you answered with a grimace.
"who the hell is in their little think tank?" sam asked, shaking her head, "'m gonna tell alex if they do the bros/hoes thing again a phi isn't coming."
you were nodding in agreement when your phone buzzed again. then you'll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow? he had asked, followed by any chance you wanna come watch my friends' baseball fall game?, followed by maybe more exposure will help w my distraction problem :).
you bit your lip, looked up at sam. "what?" she asked.
"have plans tomorrow morning?" you said as you typed. thanks for the invite, you sent, followed by can i bring sam? and can you bring alex?
"of course not," sam said, "it's saturday morning."
as long as you'll be there, you can bring anyone you want, he texted back, followed by alex is in!
see you there :) you said in a final response.
the field @ 9, he sent, followed by thank you!
your brow furrowed at this, because what was he thanking you for? what had you promised him, in this interaction, besides just seeing him? surely that wasn't enough to warrant a thank you?
you cleared your throat, tossed your phone aside. "well, you do now," you said to sam. "we're going to baseball tomorrow morning."
sam groaned. "those guys suck."
"alex is coming," you tried.
"i love baseball!" sam said, straightening again. "and soph is covering it for the paper, so we can support her, too."
you laughed. "so easily convinced, eh?"
"you don't wanna talk to me about being easily persuaded," she sing-songed. visions of easy grins and high cheekbones flashed across your mind, and you knew she was right, so you let it rest.
the next morning, as the two of you walked to the baseball field, sam was reminding you about the plight of being the president.
"we've warned her a million times about what she's posting," she told you, out of breath, referring to one of the freshman who didn't seem to understand your house's social media rules. "i don't know how many times i can remind her politely before i just start smacking cans out of her hand when someone takes their phone out."
you laughed as you rounded the corner by the field entrance. "i say resort to violence," you said, "i hear it's always the answer."
sam groaned while you smiled. "look, there they are," you whispered, spotting him and jack over by the stands. suddenly all evidence of sam's unhappiness was mysteriously gone. her face was the image of alert interest. you imagined you probably looked a little more nervous as you approached where they were standing.
"gentlemen," sam greeted the pair of them as you approached. "good to see you." she shot a wink alex's way. he appeared completely unaffected. "'specially you, handsome."
you and jack shared a gentle smile at sam's boldness, and it felt like a secret language, the kind you make up with your friend during a playdate, the kind everyone understands but that feels extra special, anyways.
"hi, sam," alex said, plainly, but you caught the faintest of a pleased look in his eyes before he nodded to you in greeting.
"thanks for coming," jack said, although when he said it he was speaking directly to you. there was a fluttery feeling in your stomach that you scolded into submission. then he offered you his arm, and you decided that the butterflies were probably here to stay, at least for now. "shall we?"
you exhaled, had the feeling that touching his extended arm would be like touching a loaded gun, dangerous and daunting, but you took it anyways, found him warm and comfortable against your side as you fell into step together. "i'm, uh," you started, testing your limits, "i'm happy you texted."
jack shook his hair from his face. his returning smile was nothing short of stunning. "yeah?" he asked, which had your mouth feeling a bit dry. "made you happy?" this fact seemed to make him especially pleased, proud.
"what, no arm for me, al?" came sam's abrupt voice from behind you. alex appeared horrified by this nickname. "that's fine, i have enough arms, anyways. three would be overdoing it, i think."
you coughed, turned your gaze back to jack. you felt the force of his attention like a suckerpunch to the stomach. "yeah, i, um," you tried, "thanks, i guess. for inviting us."
his soft features lit up with amusement at your uncertainty, obvious discomfort. he appeared just on the verge of laughter, but it didn't really feel like he was laughing at you, somehow. you knew what being on the bad end of joke was like, and this didn't feel like that. maybe you were just distracted by how his mouth curved around his almost-laugh, slow and delighted. "of course, baby," he said, and you sort of wished he would stop calling you that. for your mental well-being, he really needed to stop calling you that. he tugged you slightly closer to him as you made your way towards some empty seats in the stands. "can i have the seat next to you?"
and you let out a little laugh, then, as you sat down, made a motion as if to wipe off the seat to your left. "all yours," you said.
he hummed, something sparking in his eyes as he sat down, which had you rethinking your words, the gravity of them. you couldn't bring yourself to regret them, though, if you were honest. how could you regret them, when they made him look at you like this? like there was some worldly truth in the blush on your cheeks?
the cracking sound of a bat pulled you from your daze. "so, who do you know on the team?" you asked, eager to push the conversation towards something safer, something that didn't have your neck feeling hot, didn't make the arm rest between the two of you feel like something cruel.
he turned his head towards the field slowly, reluctantly. "11, 22," he said, pointing to where they stood, one tall, the other shorter, broader. "trevor and cole." he smiled. "they aren't very good."
you huffed a laugh. "they're on a d1 team," you chided, "so they must not be terrible."
"we still have no idea how they made the team," jack replied, shaking his head. "you'll see, swear trev can't catch a ball."
"and they only took on cole 'cause he's good with media," alex added from the seat on the other side of jack. "he's their backup backup catcher."
sam snapped her fingers. "cole, like cole caufield?" she asked, her eyes widening when alex nodded. sam looked at you. "he's the one soph's been talkin' about. the one she interviews all the time for the paper."
you laughed in recognition. your friend sophie covered almost every baseball game, and apparently a certain backup backup catcher had been giving her a lot of grief whenever she tried to get a useable quote.
"oh, and 43," jack said, pointing to the lanky kid on the pitcher's mound. his smile turned bashful. "'s luke, my younger brother."
your stomach flipped at how his gaze had softened. "didn't know you had siblings," you said, although you didn't know much about him, so you guessed that made sense.
he just nodded. "older brother, too, you might know him, actually."
"'s in tke with you?" you asked, to which jack made some affirmative sound.
"yeah," he said, "quinn, 's close with nico."
you hummed in recognition, picturing their faces, noticing the similarities. "right," you said, "you guys do look similar."
his smile turned indulgent as he tilted his head. "'m better looking though, right, baby?" he asked, and his voice dripped with confidence, but you felt a strange compulsion to reassure him, anyways, could somehow sense that this was important.
so you just ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, gauging what to say, here, how much you could reveal. "i think you're pretty, jack," you said, and it was soft, low, for him. your eyes caught on his for a blazing second. "you know i do." and it was true, you knew he was aware of the way he affected you.
his gaze grew hooded for a moment, which terrified you, a horror-movie jump scare, a reminder of the reason you made your no-frat-boy rule in the first place.
luckily, as always, sam had something to say. she scoffed. "don't know about that," she said, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs over the seat in front of her. "quinn's a straight ten." she gave a satisfied smile, looked to her right. "say, al, d'you think you could set me up with him? you guys are close, right?"
alex didn't answer right away. he shifted slightly in his seat.
"c'mon, from one president to another, think you could help me out?" sam gave a dreamy sort of sigh. "he's got a real face on him, and ever since he's grown out his hair-"
"'m not setting you up with him," was alex's short reply, cutting sam off, not quite looking at her.
you knocked jack's knee with your own, mirroring smiles on your faces.
sam just pouted as the game started. "don't have to be such an ass about it," she said, but you could tell by her face that she had accomplished exactly what she had set out to.
you weren't really a baseball fan, but this particular game flew by, probably because of the shaggy-haired, full-lipped person sitting to your left.
the slow pace of the game was cut with conversations about the party tke threw last night (it was lame, jack insisted, and his knowing, shy grin gave you a hint as to the reason why), which led to a conversation about who picks the themes (a board of esteemed individuals, apparently).
"i know it's just nico," sam said, rolling her eyes. "tell him that if he keeps up with the bros and hoes thing a phi isn't coming."
this actually appeared to alarm alex. "you're not serious," he said.
"as death," sam said, nodding.
alex promptly took out his phone and started to text someone. you had the sneaking suspicion it was nico.
jack asked about what you did last night, which led you to talking about your favorite movies.
"you've never seen scream?" you asked, practically confused.
he just shook his head, something glinting in his eyes.
you scoffed. "you have to. it's the best."
"you'll have to show it to me, sometime, then," was his response, which had you blushing, which had you wanting to.
cole never went in, as was expected. he seemed to spend the majority of his time goofing off in the dugout, throwing paper cups at his teammates, then turning away like he had no idea how they'd been hit.
luke threw a great game. he was the kind of player that drew your attention, that you just knew was good, even if you didn't know anything about the sport.
trevor only batted once (he leaned his shoulder into the pitch and took his walk). as an outfielder, he didn't see a ton of action, only getting one real shot at a catch, of course fumbling an easy out, much to the dismay of his teammates.
cole put his head in his hands but welcomed his friend back to the dugout with open arms.
the game ended with a win for the good guys, and you found yourself sticking around, all because jack wanted to wait to congratulate his friends and brother. he extended a hand to you to help you up from your seat, his grip firm and warm against your palm.
your group of four walked down to where the players would exit. you were surprised to find the silence especially comfortable, easy.
at some point, jack slapped his thigh, lightly. "i meant to ask you, baby, what's your coffee order?"
you gave him a confused sort of look. "just hot coffee with oat milk," you answered, almost wary. "why?"
"for next time," he answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world, maybe the most obvious.
you swallowed down how touched you were by this. it felt like ginger, like something you know is good for you but that feels foreign, harsh, anyways. "how do you like your coffee, then?" you asked.
"sweet," he answered, with a smile that made you feel like he knew something you didn't. "really, really sweet."
a chaotic presence shook you both from the haze you'd settled into. "oh, hey, guys." you turned, found your friend sophie there, hands full with a clipboard and her bag and a voice recorder. she pushed her hair from her face. "how's it going?"
"all good, soph," sam answered. "you?"
sophie blew out a breath. "will be good once i get a couple quotes," she said, "just hope they don't give me twenty-two. readers want quotes from impact players, and-"
"sayin' 'm not an impact player, love?" came a goofy approaching voice. you turned again to see cole coming out of the now open exit gate.
sophie groaned. "tell me they're giving me someone else," she pleaded, to which cole grinned wider. "tell me they're giving me someone who played, today."
cole rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles. "might wanna turn on your recorder," he advised, "you're gonna wanna get this."
sophie just rolled her eyes and pulled him to the side, beginning a short interview about the game as you continued to wait.
shortly after, trevor walked out, grinning when he registered the group of you. jack slung an arm around your shoulders as his friend approached, which you noticed. which you would have questioned, maybe, if he didn't pull you into his side in the best of ways, if his touch didn't make you basically delirious. so delirious that you reached a hand up to hold his, dangling from your shoulder.
you could almost hear his satisfied smile as trevor clapped alex on the shoulder in greeting. "packed the stands for us, eh?" he asked, to which alex laughed.
it was the most emotion you'd seen from him. sam appeared very confused, crossed her arms over her chest. "great game," she said.
"yeah," jack continued. "my favorite part was that gorgeous catch in the sixth." he nodded. "seamless."
trevor scoffed, waved jack off. "almost had that one," he insisted. "was this close." he brought two fingers up to show just how close he had been to making that catch.
"you were not," came another voice. you recognized the tall figure as jack's younger brother.
jack clapped his hand in a handshake, congratulated him on the win. you echoed the sentiment, stuck out your hand in greeting, which he shook. "really good game," you said, "i'm-"
"know who you are," luke said, to which you furrowed your brow.
"how?" you asked. luke shared a look with his brother, halfway amused, halfway bored.
jack cleared his throat. "might've mentioned you," he said, but it came out like a mumble, a murmur into your hair.
your heart felt too big for your chest, for a moment. the peanut gallery around you faded away, suddenly it felt like it was just the two of you, standing here. just the two of you, in this universe. "been talkin' about me?" you whispered, and you couldn't help but lean a little more into his side, your grip on his hand growing a little more substantial, a little more confident.
because you'd been someone's secret before, someone's wyd text late at night, someone's nobody, really, someone's a friend. you knew what it felt like to be traded up for, like an old phone, to be the just old enough model that someone looked for someone else, someone newer.
it felt a little spectacular to be someone to write home about, someone to be seen with in broad daylight, someone to be gushed about to a brother. maybe it just felt spectacular to be that kind of someone for jack, in particular.
"a bit," jack breathed into your ear, the softest, probably most uncertain you'd heard him. like he didn't want to scare you away.
you bumped your hip against his. "real chatterbox, hm?" you whispered, adoring the ghost of a flush up his neck, the shy smile he couldn't seem to hide.
"only about stuff that matters," he said, and whatever joke you were going to say died in your mouth, tasted bitter.
luckily, cole and sophie approached, drawing your attention away.
"good to go?" alex asked, to which cole nodded, a smug smile on his face.
sophie huffed. "i don't know why they give me you every damn game," she exclaimed, shoving her recorder and clipboard into her bag. "as if you could give me a useable quote if your life depended on it."
cole scoffed. "i can't help it if your questions are boring as hell," he said. "why don't you ask me something interesting?"
"like what?" sophie asked. "what do you propose i ask you?"
"to dinner next week," cole answered immediately, his smile more of a toothy smirk, and sophie groaned, shook her head.
"i'm out," she said, taking a quick right. she made eye contact with you and sam. "i'll see you back at the house, tonight, girls?"
you both nodded, called out your agreement and goodbye.
when sophie was out of earshot, trevor clapped cole on the shoulder. "don't you get tired of striking out, coley?" he asked.
"you don't seem to, trev," luke observed, to which jack let out a laugh.
"hey, i got a single out of today," trevor argued. no one seemed to view that as the victory that he did.
cole and trevor eventually peeled off to the athlete's dining hall to get lunch, while luke walked back to the row with the group of you, saying something about grabbing a shirt from quinn's room.
when you all made it back, standing in front of the tke house, jack reluctantly retracted his arm from your shoulders. you felt cold without it.
luke headed up to the door.
"luke, tell quinn i say hi, would you?" sam asked, to which he gave some confused confirmation, before disappearing into the house. sam then turned to alex. "a pleasure, as always, al," she said, barely sparing him a second glance.
"yeah, bye?" alex said, almost a question, obviously wary of sam's change in pace.
jack touched your hand, pulled your gaze to his like two magnets, eliciting some kind of shield between you and the rest of the world. "thanks again for coming," he said, so soft, you could feel in your bones that he meant it.
"'course," you said, found it strange that it was entirely true. of course you would come when he called you. of course you'd indulge his every whim, when he asked so politely. "see you on friday? for dance?"
and he gave the slightest of pouts, but it drew your attention to his mouth nonetheless. made your cheeks feel hot, your heart beat fast, nonetheless. "too long, baby," he said, and you could have rolled your eyes at his boyish whine, but you never would. not when he was whining for you.
you just stayed quiet, let yourself smile, slightly. "maybe before friday, then?"
he grinned as if some plan he'd formed had turned out exactly as he'd hoped. "i'll text you," he said, giving you that fairytale smile, and you'd been told that before.
you'd been told that before, during nighttime hours that passed like slug across rain-drenched walkways. you'd been told that while in boxer shorts that weren't your own, standing in a doorframe that was practically laughing at you.
i'll text you, you'd been told, from some guy on his bed, on his phone, not quite looking at you.
and the doorframe might have cackled at how desperate you seemed, then, desperate for something you'd never get from this guy in the room you were leaving.
kick rocks, girl, the doorframe might have said, you know how many i've seen come in and out, even just this week? and you really think you're special?
but, right now, jack told you that he'd text you, and you couldn't find a doubt in your mind. you knew he would.
you proved to be right. the weekend flew by, because you were busy, yes, but also because of the near-ongoing text conversation you had fallen into with jack.
he might ask you something about the classes you were taking (besides ballroom), to which you would shyly tell him about some finance discussion you found genuinely interesting.
you might ask if he played sports at all, like his brother (he played hockey growing up, but wasn't good enough to play in college, like luke was with baseball), to which you would tell him you found it hard to believe that he could ever be not good enough at something.
and you'd believe it, too, wholeheartedly. sure, he had this ease to him, this softness, but he also seemed to possess a specific kind of eagerness, a delicious sort of hunger you felt must lead him to the things he wanted without exception.
you wouldn't admit it to anyone who asked, but he had you smiling at your phone on more than one occasion, had your heart beating a little faster with every notification. he had you dreamy. it was a good look on you.
that's how he had you, just over the phone, so the feeling was amplified by a million the next monday afternoon, after class, on your walk back from the business building, as you passed the tke house. a walk you'd taken a hundred-something times over the years, but this time was different, because your name was being called out of an upstairs window.
your heart stuttered, because you recognized that voice, in its confidence, in its goofy gentleness. you stopped walking, looked up, searching for an open window.
"that you, jack?" you called back, when you found it, found him leaning out of the pane with a smile you could see from where you stood. even though you knew. even though you'd never mistake his tone for anyone else.
he gave a pout. "who else?" he asked, and it was careful, calculated, even though it was playful. like he really wanted to know who else you thought would call your name from a window. like he really wanted to be the only one.
"oh, no one," you assured him, beginning to walk down the sidewalk again, towards your house, "you're my only romeo." you'd meant it in a joking way, but you could tell the first three words were the ones that mattered to him. the ones that would echo in his head. you're my only.
this made him light up, made him glow like a disco ball in a middle school gymnasium. "look so pretty today, baby!" he said, in response, before the distance between you grew so stark.
you flushed, wanted to feel the word pretty from his mouth against your neck, wanted to swallow it down. but you just smiled. "only today?" you asked, wondered where this confidence had come from, tried to imagine you saying that to anyone else. you couldn't.
"come back tomorrow, just to check!" he called out after you, making you shake your head, look down at your feet.
you weren't even back to your front door yet before your phone buzzed. not just today, he'd texted you.
i knew what you meant :), you sent back.
just didn't want you to think differently, he replied, followed by spend a scary amount of time thinking about how pretty you are.
the following day, you'd be lying if you said a smile didn't bloom across your face as you walked back after class, as you approached the tke house. maybe it was some pavlov response, but it was probably because you recognized the figure sitting on the window pane on the top floor, swinging his legs, just looking out, like he was on the top of a pirate ship.
you smiled, but your pulse stuttered, a bit. "jack?" you asked, although of course you knew it was him, that perfect facial structure, shag of soft hair. "is it safe up there?"
his gaze fixed on you, alight with flame and amusement. "worried 'bout me, baby?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but something in you twitched, because you were, actually. when did that happen?
"why're you hanging outta your window?" you asked, because you didn't need to tell him that you cared that much about him, not yet. you barely wanted to admit it to yourself, even.
he seemed to take your deflection as confirmation, anyways, to see right through you, as he typically did. his grin ticked up, a beautiful combination of a bashful blush and confident smile. he pushed his hair from his face. "knew you'd be walkin' by," he said, swung his feet up and back gently. "had to catch you."
you swallowed, ran your palms along the straps of your backpack in delighted disbelief. "you were waiting for me to walk by?" you asked, still not quite understanding.
he only nodded, tilted his head, gave the softest of smirks. it was almost too much. "don't you know you've got me waitin' by the phone, baby?" he asked, melodic. it was almost like he was making fun of you, with that teasing tone, but you knew in your heart that he wasn't. that he would never.
cherry-blossom pink bloomed across the bridge of your nose as his confession registered in your mind. the thought of him throughout his day, acutely aware of his phone in his pocket, his heart racing at every buzz, like yours did. "bein' so patient, are you?" you asked, the words smooth and drowsy in your throat, like cough syrup.
he hummed, swung a leg back over the pane, starting to shift his body back inside. "'m here when you need me, baby," he said, matter-of-fact, absolute. his gaze sharpened, the temperature of it rising to a scorch you felt like a slap. "or when you want me."
it was something sort of breathtaking, how honest he was with you, from the beginning. how he seemed perfectly content just waiting for you to come to terms with the attraction you felt so deeply. the attraction he could see in your eyes, in your breath, in your words.
you were scared, though, because this was the before part. and the guys you'd had before had appeared genuinely interested during the before part, too. it was the after part you were concerned about.
because what if he lost interest as soon as he had you, like the other guys did? he seemed so different, and so genuine, and sure, you'd never thought anyone to be as beautiful as him, but what if he wasn't different? what if he left you, too, standing alone, dumb, a desperate fool?
how many times had a beautiful trick forced your hand? you shivered at the thought, but the romantic in you wanted to believe. in yourself, in him. she wanted to believe in the love story between the beautiful trick and the desperate fool. she needed to.
the following day, perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, as you approached tke house on your walk back, to recognize jack's familiar figure in his front yard. he appeared to be making progress closer to you, day by day, from inside his room, to outside his window, to now, just next to the sidewalk.
the scene you approached wasn't necessarily a rare one, not on the row, but it might appear odd to an outsider. a few of the brothers, some that you recognized, were sitting on a couch that they had obviously moved from inside, while a couple others, jack included, were lounging on adirondack chairs. most of them had computers out, doing work, or something like it. and, of course, because it was a sunny afternoon, all of them, save for one, were bare-chested.
you weren't especially sensitive or judgmental when it came to that sort of thing, but, as you got closer, you found your cheeks growing hot, anyways. you were embarrassed like a kid, like you'd been caught with something forbidden, and you might've walked right by the house, avoiding eye contact, if jack hadn't made that impossible.
"tryna sneak by, baby?" he called out from his chair, teasing, his posture so distractingly relaxed, knees spread wide. he waved you over with a knowing smile. "c'mere," he said, but not like a demand. like a request, sweet-sounding from his full mouth.
and you'd do just about anything he asked, so of course you exhaled, turned on your foot, walked nervously from the sidewalk onto the lawn, over to his chair. you nodded your hello to nico, on the couch, on your way, finally stilled in front of jack's chair.
your heart was pounding, your palms felt damp. he'd called you baby, in front of all of his friends, like you weren't something to hide. the opposite, actually, like you were something to show off, someone to be proud of. he looked at you like you were worth something, and he looked so beautiful, drenched in sunlight, so stunning that your throat felt tight.
"hi," you said, internally smacked yourself at how lame you sounded, how dumb.
"hi," jack parroted, his smile growing as he shut his computer, set it down on the ground next to him. you suspected he could probably feel your nerves, your distraction. you suspected he was delighted in it. and that made you feel a bit better, at least. to be his delight, for the moment being. "you know quinn, right?"
you turned your eyes to the chair next to jack, to a face you recognized, the only one in the yard wearing a shirt. "yeah," you answered, giving quinn a small nod, which he returned. "hey, quinn."
the older brother gave you a small smile. "hey," he replied, "heard your sam's been askin' about me."
you laughed, twisted the sole of your sneaker into the grass slowly. "she has," you confirmed, although you highly doubted her interest was genuine. "very recently, at least."
quinn just laughed, gave a slight shake of his head before turning back to his computer. he knew something you didn't, you could tell, but you couldn't focus on that, right now, not when jack's voice called you back from your curious state.
"wanna sit?" he asked, spreading his legs wider as if to make room for you. you scrunched up your nose, slightly, in thought.
"you're not busy?" you asked, sort of shaky, shifting on your feet.
he shook his head, gave his thigh a soft pat in invitation. "wanna hear about your day," he said, and you could have swooned.
you set down your backpack next to his laptop, on the grass, let him pull you onto his lap. you settled into his chest, crossed your feet over the far armrest, rested your hands in your own lap as he draped a heavy arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.
you tried not to ruminate too hard on how warm he was, how his bare skin seemed to spark against you like an electric shock. jesus, had you ever been so awkward?
"nervous, eh?"
you looked up at him, found his smile lazy but his eyes attentive, almost concerned. you nodded, because who could lie to those eyes? "you make me nervous," you said, plainly, because it was true.
he fixed you with that starry gaze, his mouth dipping slightly into something like relief. you were confused, your brow furrowing as he took your hand in his free one, brought your fingers up to his neck, just below his ear. he pressed your index and middle finger into his soft skin until you could feel his pulse, until it vibrated through you.
until you could feel just how fast his heart was beating. you felt molten, all over, like day-old valentine's day chocolate over a flame.
you rubbed careful circles into his neck, as if to soothe the underlying pace. "like you just ran up the stairs," you said, and it came out like a whisper. jack just huffed a laugh, let his hand fall to the top of your legs. there was something mesmerizing in his eyes when he looked at you, then. "thank you," you added, a breath.
"make me nervous, too, baby," he said, so soft only you could hear. his mouth twisted into a teasing grin. "'m just better at hidin' it."
you rolled your eyes, but relaxed deeper into him, all the same, leaning your head back on his extended arm, shifting across his lap. "guess 'll have to get better at it, then," you said, a small smile on your face.
he just shook his head. "hope you don't," he told you. "hope you never hide from me."
your tongue felt too big for your mouth, then, so you just asked about his day, told him about yours, felt yourself grow more and more comfortable with each passing second, as the sun peeled across the sky like a sweet orange. you had homework to do, but you lost track of time, talking with him about everything and nothing, about nonsense and significance. you found yourself hanging off of his words like they were his lips, found yourself laughing so genuinely and sharing more with him than you had with a new person in a long, long time.
his laugh rang in your head like church bells. everything he said to you felt like a secret, like something just between the two of you. people moved to and from the lawn as you spoke, as you listened, but neither of you seemed to notice. the hours melted away in moments.
"jesus, there you are," came a loud voice from the sidewalk, pulling you from your bubble. you turned, found sam, a hand on her hip, looking right at you. "would it kill you to answer your phone?"
guilt bloomed in your chest. you hadn't thought to check your phone in what must have been an eternity. you quickly picked yourself up from jack's lap to grab it from your bag, caught a glimpse of his pout, which made your stomach flip. you scrolled through your notifications, winced at the texts you'd missed, mostly sam asking where you were. "i'm sorry," you said, looking up at her, and you meant it.
sam didn't hold grudges, though, had better things to do. it was one of the things you loved about her. so she just waved you off, approached you where you knelt next to your phone. she tilted her chin up at jack in greeting before noticing his brother. "'sup, quinn," she said, pushing her glasses to the top of her head. "didn't get the tarps-off memo, did you?"
quinn looked up, smiled right back at her. his gaze darted to the front door of the house and back in a second, almost undetectable, but you noticed it, noticed quinn's grin grow almost devious. "sorry to disappoint, sammy," he said, emphasis heavy on the nickname, his eyes settling on the door again. he coughed, nodded his head. "hey, uh, alex."
you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, shared a look with jack, who touched your shoulder lightly. just to say are you getting this? just to say i'm right here with you. as if you'd forget.
sam spun around to face alex, who stood on the front steps, hands in the pockets of his shorts. he wasn't looking at sam, though. he was glaring daggers at quinn, who was acting oblivious, practically humming contently in his seat.
"excuse me?" sam's voice was pitched. "what the hell are you wearing?"
your eyes widened as you registered the front of alex's t-shirt. it was a pretty pale yellow, with some bid day slogan on it, over three identical triangles. alex was wearing something tri delt.
you felt jack lean forward, his mouth right by your ear. "that from this year's bid day?" he asked. you nodded slowly, so as to let the scene unfold in front of you without disruption.
alex just looked down at his shirt, shrugged, appeared to be the picture of confidence, even arrogance. "what's the big deal?"
sam rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest. "tri delt, al, really?" sam sighed, then began to pull at the sleeves of her own sweatshirt, tug it over her head. of course, she was wearing only a bra underneath. of course, she didn't care.
quinn laughed, let out a whistle.
jack's laugh shook through you as he leaned forward, rested his forehead on your shoulder blade. you grinned at the intimacy of it, of letting him hide his laugh in you.
sam exhaled again, her sweatshirt now in her hand, which she extended to alex as she fixed her glasses. "here," she said, impatient.
alex narrowed his eyes, took the blue mass of fabric, pulled it over his head.
sam didn't wait to see him put it on, like she didn't need to check, instead turning on her heel, in pajama pants and pretty much nothing else, and began to walk back towards the a phi house. she gestured your way, "let's go, you," she ordered.
you scurried to grab your bag, pushed up on your feet, touched your fingers to jack's chin, lightly, before making to follow her. "movie tomorrow?" you asked, emboldened by hours of comfort, of being made to feel comfortable.
"yes, please," jack said, and the way he smiled up at you was something of dreams. "i'll text you, yeah?" you nodded, turned to run after your roommate.
"pleasure as always, madam president," nico called out from the couch, to which sam scoffed.
you caught up with her, hugged her into your side. "feeling feisty, eh?" you asked.
"tri delt," she said, biting, "what a moron, honestly. who does he think he is?"
you laughed. "i don't think he's thinking about anyone in tri delt, right now," you tried.
"and don't think we're not talking about you," she said, wagging a warning finger at you, "disappearing for hours, just for me to find you in the lap of a," she gasped dramatically, for emphasis, "frat boy!"
and you did talk about it, later, in the comfort of your room. you talked about jack, and how special he made you feel, and how patient he was with you, and how different he seemed.
and you talked about how scared you were, how you were so worried that as soon as you gave him any more of you, he'd take it all and run like blue and red flashed in the rearview. how you were more scared now, probably than ever before, because of how ready you were to give him whatever he wanted, and after such a short time of knowing him, too. to give him all of you, if he asked.
or, at least, to give him enough of you that, if he did run, he would leave nothing left.
sam listened, and asked questions, and talked for a long while, but the gist of it was that sometimes good things are scary. sometimes to be scared is to care, and sometimes to care is to be human.
"jesus, just look at me," she said, "make a fool out of myself on the daily for that scumbag, and look where it gets me." she sighed. "minus one sweatshirt and plus one poor boy calling me sammy."
you laughed. "you're a lot of things," you mused, "but you're no fool."
unlike you, foolish one, some voice in your head taunted, low and mean. your nose twitched.
sam hummed. "so, i should be out of the room tomorrow night?"
you groaned, hung your head in your hands. "it's a terrible idea, right?" you asked. "of course he's going to think something specific when i asked him to watch a movie at my place, hm?"
she just laughed at your anguish, put her hands up in surrender. "hey, you asked him," she pointed out. "not like he snapped you u up? at three a.m."
you scrunched up your nose. "i guess," you said.
"you make the rules," sam reminded you, "you set the pace." she fixed you with a look. "but you seem to like the fast track, love." she gestured to her cheeks. "you're glowing with it."
and maybe she was right. but you didn't feel like you were glowing, the following night, the night jack was supposed to come over.
you'd fussed over your hair and your clothes and your general being, made and remade your bed, folded all the clothes in your closet, as if he would be doing a thorough inspection.
you felt scattered, scared, so devastatingly nervous. you caught a glimpse of yourself in your mirror, almost flinched at the lack of confidence you found, the physical embodiment of anxiety. it seemed to web under your eyes like spiders, seemed to coat your skin like dull plaster.
it was sort of odd you felt so anxious, you thought, because you trusted jack. you trusted him so much, so truly. brutal memories had your sense of security all twisted around, though. at the moment, you couldn't quite grasp his lips against your temple, you couldn't tangibly touch his kind smile, didn't have the echo of his reassuring words in your ear.
you just felt crazy. crazy for wanting to trust him, somehow even more crazy for not being able to just let go. how badly you wanted to let go of the past, of your insecurities, of your fears.
it was almost like you were being pulled between two realties. you felt the stretch in the lines on your palms, in the seam of your mouth, in your breastbone. it was a pull between the kind of fear you found some deranged sort of certainty in and the future, what could be, what you could almost taste, if you'd just let yourself relax. if you'd only let yourself enjoy it.
why do you have to remember every embarrassment and failure? some voice in your head screamed, why can't you just be normal? you swallowed around your sadness, because he'd probably want someone normal, right? he probably wouldn't want you.
as if summoned by your despair, your attention was pulled upwards by a knock on your window, a few quick raps. you squinted, were shocked to find jack's pretty face on the other side of the glass.
you lived on the first floor, so it wasn't necessarily unsafe, or anything, but the front door was right there, and he was early. he was early, and you looked like a mess, felt like an even bigger one.
still, you walked over to the window, pulled it open. "what're you doing?" you asked, cleared your throat to hide the shake in your voice.
his blue eyes flashed with something like recognition, gone again in a moment. "am i too early?" he asked, like some impatient kid on christmas morning. "i can wait by the front door for another hour, if you want." you could have sighed in his voice, this specific tone that calmed you like lavender, the one that was almost making fun of you, but not quite.
even in your chaotically disorganized state, you just left the window open, stepped back. "'course you can come in now," you said, welcoming him in. you gave him a bit of a laugh, but it sounded kind of sad as it came out. "'m sorry about all this," you said, giving a rough gesture to your room, yourself, as you sat at the foot of your bed. "i'd probably have fixed it by the time you were supposed to get here."
he climbed into your room, and the sight was so intimate it made your chest contract. when he looked up at you, confusion dripped down his gaze like candle wax. "what do you mean?" he asked, coming to sit next to you, warm and easy. "fix what?"
you gave him a half-smile, genuinely believed he was just being polite. "i know i look crazy," you said, running your fingertips under your eyes. "i feel crazy."
his eyes filled with kind concern, not pity, but just care. he tentatively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you into his chest in an embrace that felt like a midday nap, exactly what you needed. "then i'm happy i couldn't stay away, crazy girl," he said, and it was so soft it hurt. "tell me." a request, only because he wanted to know. he wanted to know you.
and, after a sigh, you did tell him, just as you'd told sam. you told him about how scared you were, about how you could feel how he was different, how you knew it like some philosophical principle, but how you were terrified, anyways.
you told him about how dumb, how juvenile and stupid you'd felt, over and over again, just for wanting to be taken seriously, just for wanting someone to deem you worthy of something longer than a night. just for wanting someone to stay. you told him about how you'd had people be so sweet and kind and caring, but they'd still left after they'd gotten what they'd wanted.
and you sort of felt pathetic as you spoke, and you half expected him to laugh, to tell you that you were like every other girl, expecting un-promised things from some poor guy. but, of course, he didn't. of course, he just held you to his chest, listened to you the entire time, his thumb rubbing circles into your upper arm.
"i don't want you to think that i think you're a bad guy," you made sure to say, looking up at him, "and i don't want you to think that i don't care about your life, and your anxieties, and stuff, just because i'm rambling about mine." you let your eyes flood with everything you were feeling. "but i also don't want you to think i'm disinterested, or bored, or something."
he hummed, and it was quiet, for a moment, as your words rolled around his head. "what do you want me to think, then?" he asked, finally, gently.
you leaned your head on his shoulder, thought for a second. "i want you to know that i'm into you," you landed on, and the truth tasted sweet on your tongue. "and i want to ask you to keep being patient with me, please." your mouth quirked up. "like you already are, i guess."
his smile was something dreamy before he pressed his lips to your hair. "how about this?" he said, a murmur, "how about you let me try to convince you i'm staying, hm? trust me to?"
you found yourself nodding.
"and if you want something, you just ask me, okay, baby?" he amended. "ask me, and i'll be here. promise."
you looked up at him through your lashes. "thank you," you breathed, after a pause, because a promise was something special. him being so soft with you was something special, too.
he gave a slight shrug, his smile almost a smirk. "you told me you're into me, baby," he said, like that explained everything.
you just laughed into his shoulder, felt fear melt away, dissolve into the air. "what did you come over for, again?" you joked, because you were supposed to be watching a movie, and instead you'd unloaded all this information on him. instead, you'd told him how you felt.
but he didn't seem to hear the joke in your tone. "to see you," he said, simply, making you flush.
eventually, you watched the second scream movie, which was your favorite, and you asked about his day, and you continued to add to the filing cabinet of information about jack that existed in your mind. eventually, the dim light and night air made your words slow and your eyes droopy. eventually, the two of you fell asleep.
when your eyes fluttered awake, sunlight poured in through your curtains like flour through a sieve. your limbs felt stiff, your neck tight, having fallen asleep in an awkward position, but your head was clear, not foggy at all. you'd slept scarily well.
a slight shift on your mattress drew your attention, and your eyes widened when you registered jack, still asleep, still in the clothes he'd come in last night. you looked around to find your laptop on the floor, jack's sweatshirt halfway off the side of the bed.
checking your phone for the time, you mouthed a curse, because you were already late for your eight a.m. you must have forgotten to set your alarm for this morning. admittedly, you had been awfully busy last night, in a comfortable sort of way. you'd had much more important things on your mind than today's lecture, namely the way jack's voice grew rougher as the hours passed. namely, how he shared things with you like he trusted you with everything, like he knew you'd take care of him.
you silently rose, crept to the bathroom to brush your teeth and quickly get ready. when you emerged again, you were relieved to find his eyes still closed.
he looked so peaceful, like this, so blissful, almost angelic. the morning sun settled on his face, the crown of his head like a halo, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.
as you pulled on a different shirt and shorts, you couldn't help the small smile that stretched across your face. because, you remembered, you'd told him everything, and he had stayed. when you looked over at him, he didn't disappear. he was really, genuinely there, and had felt comfortable enough in your bed, in your space, to fall asleep with his arm under your neck, with his knee grazing your hip.
only when you picked up your backpack did he stir, reaching a hand to rub over his face, stretching with a groan that made you blush. when he retracted his hand, resting it up against your headboard, his sleepy gaze found yours. he smiled, an instinct, a compulsion. you smiled back. "tryna sneak out on me?" he said, yawning halfway through.
you approached the side of the bed he was laying on, by your nightstand, bent down and sat back on your heels so you were close to eye level with him. "no," you told him, honestly. you pushed his hair back from his face, and he hummed at your touch, eyes drowsy, getting used to the light from the window. perhaps still getting used to the light of you. "just didn't want to wake you."
he exhaled, and you felt the heat of it on your arm. "going to class?" he asked.
you nodded, smiled. "but i'll see you later, maybe?" you asked, hopeful. "i'll text you?"
"please," was his reply.
before you pushed up from your knees, though, you bit your lip with indecision. "jack," you began.
"yeah, baby?" he asked, almost confused, certainly intrigued.
"remember when you said to tell you when i want something?" you tone had grown cautious.
"'course," he said, reaching a hand forward, under your chin, to keep your eyes trained on his.
you swallowed, shifted. "i want something."
he smiled, shy, in a flash of teeth, just so, so pleased. "anything," he answered, sleep now gone from his gaze, replaced with something sharper, something beautiful. "anything." he said it like a plea.
you breathed out, searched his eyes, then leaned forward slowly, pressed your lips gently to his. only for a second, soft as anything, barely there, before making to pull away again.
then his broad hand was on the side of your face, though, guiding you back to his mouth, this time harder in commitment but not in force. the positioning was kind of awkward, with him propped up on his elbow, and he tasted a little bitter from the morning, and your heart felt like it was buzzing, but it was perfect. it was perfect, all of it, because it was with him.
no running away, his kiss seemed to scream at you, not from me.
you hoped he could sense your promise by the way you reached an arm around his neck, by the way you relaxed into his mouth, practically a sigh of relief.
he felt like lazy laundry days and laughing in the kitchen and pinkie promises. he smelled like worn-out cologne from the night before. he felt like trust, and belief, and something meaningful. he felt like something, someone, you could get used to. someone you wanted to, at least.
you both pulled away, at some point, only just barely, enough to catch your breath. you ran your nails along the nape of his neck, watched his glossy gaze settle on you.
"'m really gonna be late, now," you said, dumb, but you didn't really care. you had greater things to care about, it seemed.
he laughed, and you felt it in your fingers. "they're lucky they're getting you at all," he said, and it was a rasp. his smile grew lopsided. "or maybe 'm the lucky one."
you gave a slight shake of your head. he just said these kinds of things, and he didn't think about how they'd make your vision spin. how terribly inconsiderate. "i'll see you later?" you clarified, giving his shoulder a squeeze before getting up, lugging your backpack on.
he nodded, still a bit dazed, it seemed.
the thought made you smile. "bye, jack," you said, on your way out.
"bye, baby," he called out after you, a sing-song. you could hear the happiness leaking from his voice, could almost taste it.
time passed quickly and blissfully, from there. the semester began to rush forward in a flurry of classes and chapter meetings and philanthropy obligations, all which were cut with movie nights with jack in your room, nights on which he slept over more often than not (you swore every time he came over he stole a different sweatshirt of yours. your closet was starting to look scarce, but whenever you saw him push the too-tight sleeves up on his forearms, you couldn't find it in yourself to mind), dance class on friday afternoons (you didn't know how someone could be so tragically terrible at ballroom as you seemed to be, but you looked forward to it, all the same), parties at tke on the weekends (you grew to know his friends and brothers and their girlfriends, grew to be a part of their little world).
tonight was one of those parties, and you were in your room, trying to figure out what you were going to wear, before sam burst in the door.
"we're not going," she said, plain and simple, sitting on her bed.
you looked at her with a raised brow. "why not?" your eyes widened. "what did alex do?"
she rolled her eyes. "it's not alex," she explained. "i told nico no more bros and hoes bullshit a long time ago, and he didn't listen." she shook her head, as if disappointed. "what is the theme, if not golf bros and tennis club hoes?"
you gave a light laugh. "so we're actually not going?"
"nope," sam declared, "already put it in the chat. a phi is boycotting."
as if on cue, you received a text from jack that read coming tonight?
haven't you heard, you sent back, a phi is on strike :)
you accepted his almost instantaneous face-time request, grinning as his pretty features filled your screen. "what do you mean you're on strike?" was his immediate question.
"hi to you, too, jack," you teased, your stomach flipping when his eyes filled with something soft.
"hi, baby, 'm sorry," he amended, and his voice was genuine.
you waved his apology off lightheartedly. "i'm under strict presidential orders," you told him, "apparently nico didn't heed the warning about the bros and hoes thing."
jack groaned, then looked away from the screen for a second. "they're not coming," he called out to someone, "like, actually, all of a phi is not coming."
"and we're not budging!" sam called out from her bed.
"is that sam?" came another voice from jack's end. "put her on."
and so the phones were passed to alex and sam, respectively.
"c'mon, sam," alex said, the most emotion you'd heard from him in a while. "you guys need to come out. we need you there."
it was true, sort of. they needed girls there, and a phi was plentiful with pretty smiles and kind laughs.
"no can do, al," sam said, smug. "tke needs to learn their lesson."
alex blinked.
"will you put nico on, please?" sam asked, syrupy sweet. "i have some choice words for him."
"no, you can't talk to nico," alex responded, short.
"what's the deal, madam?" came a very nico-sounding voice, off screen. "it's a good theme, eh? think you'd look great in a tennis skirt."
you rolled your eyes.
"what, won't let him talk without his lawyer present?" sam pressed.
jack's laugh was bright. you felt it through the screen.
"he can talk to you when he puts a shirt on," was the curt response.
you smirked. alex was not doing a very good job of shielding his emotions, not anymore.
"you know me better than that, don't you?" sam asked, almost offended. "not one to get distracted easily by a bare chest."
alex sighed, rubbed a hand over his face.
"are you saying you get distracted by nico's abs, al?" sam continued. "i mean, i get it, even if i can't relate personally."
"you're not talking to him, sam," alex said. "our theme for tonight is not up for debate. it's too late."
sam gave a dramatic sigh, appeared deep in thought.
"well, can i talk to quinn, then?" sam said. "not for any reason, really, just want to see his face."
you bit your lip out of frame, smiled, because you had a feeling jack was doing something similar. you had a feeling that if you were in the same room, right now, you'd be sharing a knowing glance, a hidden laugh. you felt warm with that knowledge.
"quinn's busy," alex bit out. you could almost hear his grinding teeth.
sam just gave a theatrical pout that had you giggling.
"shame," sam said, a winning smile on her face.
you heard alex's deep exhale. "you're killing me, here, beautiful," he said, a sigh. your eyes widened. was alex finally breaking?
sam just hummed. "'s that my sweatshirt you're wearing, al?" she asked. "color looks nice on you."
then she handed the phone back to you, walked from the room, and when you looked down at the screen, alex was gone, too, leaving only the soft slope of jack's nose, messy hair in his face. "hi," you said, a smile bubbling free.
"hi," he parroted. "if you're not coming, then, what're you doing tonight?"
you shrugged. "probably just watching a movie here," you said. "nothing crazy."
his nose twitched, his eyes shone with an unasked question.
"wanna join?" you asked, loving the way his face lit up at your invitation.
he sucked on his teeth, and your stomach coiled with heat at the sight. "think 'm technically supposed to be here," he said, to which you pouted. "but i might be able to sneak out."
"sneak outta your own party?" you asked, a light laugh on your mouth like a sparkly gloss.
"for you," he added, which made your laugh settle into something dangerous.
you scrunched up your face in delight. "'ll leave my window open, then," you said.
"thank you, baby," he said, waited for you to hang up first.
you did leave your window open, let the cool nighttime breeze ease in, blowing your curtains slightly, the edges of your sheets by your feet. you were comfortably on your side, your mind quiet as your eyes lazily took in your computer screen.
the tassels on your drapes seemed to sing at jack's knock on the window pane. the fixtures in your room seemed to relax, the wood of your desk turning malleable, the light on the ceiling to burn hotter, dimmer.
play it cool, you wanted to shush them, the way you whisper to your friends in middle school when your crush walks past your locker, just act normal.
your smile crept up on you, slow and genuine, as he swung his other leg over, shut the window again, immediately kicking off his sneakers and collapsing on top of you, the weight of him almost oppressive against your chest, your face.
you laughed nonetheless, wrapped your arms around his middle to hug him closer, to breathe him in. you felt his neck relax, his heavy head hang just above your shoulder. he let out a breath, like he was exhaling everything heavy. like he was making space for you in his lungs, in his chest, in his being.
you rubbed gentle circles into his back over his sweatshirt. "successful jailbreak?" you murmured, your voice muffled into his chest.
he pressed his lips to your shoulder, gently, before rolling off of you, soft as anything but sparking heat between the two of you nonetheless. "you've made a fugitive out of me," he joked, laying an arm over your torso and pulling you into his side.
"sure they won't be missing you?" you asked, brushing his hair from his face. his eyes simmered with something lovely.
he gave a shrug you felt through your whole body. "if i was there, i'd be missin' you," he clarified in explanation. of course, your heart stuttered like a shy kid giving a speech at an all-school assembly.
"i'm glad you're here," you said, soft, the words not feeling like nearly enough. you hooked one leg around his, tangling the two of you further, then rethought your action.
because you'd known guys who'd groan at this kind of thing from you, who would warn you not to start something you couldn't finish, who would call you a tease or something much meaner.
but, of course, jack did no such thing. he just relaxed deeper into the position, nodded towards your abandoned computer. "what're we watching?" he asked.
you swallowed. it struck you as weird, that his endless patience and kindness sparked something hot in your stomach, that you wanted to give him anything and everything, all because he would never demand it of you.
his hand on your back suddenly felt heavy, his leg under yours too warm. you hummed, tilted your head up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
you could feel him smile against your lips. "what's that for, baby?" he asked, rough.
"for you," you answered, simply.
you felt his pleased exhale in your bones as he took your chin in his hand, led your mouth to his in a deeper kiss, this time, one that felt like coffee mugs with lipstick on the rim, like good morning texts before you wake up, like burning fireplaces in the winter, fragrant and lively. "so sweet for me, baby," he mumbled against your mouth.
you sighed, ran your fingertips along his jaw, found courage in the blue of his eyes that willed your nerves away. "can i have something, please?"
"anything," he answered, softly, immediately, as he always had.
you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, wondering what you were actually asking for. "i just want," you started, uncertain, then started again. "just-"
you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale, reaching an arm around his neck, shifted your body until you were on top of him, kissed him with something feverish in your veins. he let out some kind of whimper-ish sound, so strained, so desperate, as his hand found your hips, held you to him with intention.
you kissed him like you were burning, like you needed him to taste the flame of your want, like your desire was some burden you couldn't possibly shoulder alone.
he didn't seem to mind, anyways, quite the opposite - he kissed you back like he'd take anything you'd give him, like the fire you were exuding was water in a drought, like you were some fabled savior. like you were saving him.
you pulled gently at the hem of his pink sweatshirt, or yours, rather, withdrew slightly to help him tug it off. he was so beautiful, always, but especially now, glowing in the light of your bedroom, flushed entirely because of you, eyelids heavy with attraction.
you stilled, straddling his hips, his back against your headboard as you traced the veins in his arms with your fingertips.
his thumbs slipped under your sleep shorts, rubbed feather-light circles into the flesh of your hips. "tell me what you need, baby," he said. "whatever you want, swear it."
you bit your lip to dull your smile, because you realized, in that moment, that there was no semblance of fear in your mind. not even a drop of doubt. you knew, that no matter what you gave to him, no matter how much of yourself you offered up, he wouldn't leave you, dumb and ashamed, standing alone in some taunting doorway. he'd stay.
the fact made unfiltered want flow through you, powerful as a river after heavy rain.
you met his gaze with a confidence that hadn't been there in a long time, that he seemed to pull from you with ease. you rocked your hips against his lap, relished in the strain you saw in his eyes. "wanna feel you inside me," you rasped, continuing to shift back and forth. "wanna make you feel good, hm?"
you felt his groan in your teeth as he flipped you on your back in a single, swift motion, left messy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck. he didn't saw anything about how long he'd been waiting, about how long you'd made him wait, and you had a feeling it was because he genuinely didn't care.
you had a feeling the only thing he cared about, in this current moment, was the feeling of your collarbone under his teeth, the way your hands rooted in the curls of his hair, the not-nearly-enough friction of his grinding hips against yours.
you both twisted and tugged clothes aside, hurried, almost crazed, until you could take him in your palm, hard and hot, run your grip up and down his length, urging a groan from his throat that you wanted to taste. his exhales were so, so labored as his hips jerked towards you involuntarily.
your eyes widened, because you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be with someone like this, to be with someone whom you trusted entirely, someone whose pleasure you could feel as deeply as if it was your own. it made your blood feel volcanic as it beat from your heart.
"please, jack," you begged, and his overwhelmed gaze found yours, again.
"i know, baby," he cooed, running his fingers through your folds, cursing under his breath at how wet he found you, from barely being touched. all from him. your grip around him faltered as he pushed two fingers inside of you, the stretch immediate. "i know." you cursed, shut your eyes as he thumbed your clit, making your breath feel heavy in your mouth. he retreated further. "just wanna taste you first, baby, please?"
you just nodded, perfectly happy to give him any he wanted. then his mouth was on you, his tongue slow, methodical, as you tugged at his hair, your face pinched in pleasure.
pressure coiled inside of you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your back arch up of your bed, the friction dreamy.
the weight of him pressed your hips down, heightening the sensation, making each motion of his fingers feel like an eruption of flame, each swipe of his tongue feel monumental.
you choked out a whine of his name, pulled on his curls just a little harder, lewd, slick noises echoing in your ears. "more," you breathed, to which he groaned, rocked his hips against the bed, desperate for some kind of friction, some kind of relief. the sight had you clenching around his fingers.
"not enough?" he asked, his voice gentle, the fervor of his motions anything but. "need more, do you, pretty thing?" you nodded, whimpered a please, which had him pulling his deft fingers from you, shifting closer to you. he angled his cock to your core, held your hips down with his other hand. he hummed. "you can have it, baby."
your eyes fluttered shut as he began to push inside of you with a moan that you swore made your lampshade blush, made the conservative hangers in your closet shake their heads, disappointed. you grasped at his forearm with a reaching hand, fisted the other in your cotton sheets, the texture heightened in your palm.
you felt the stretch everywhere, half expected your bedroom to crack in half, to feel the pressure just as acutely as you did. "almost there, baby, 'atta girl," he bit out, "fuck, feel so good for me."
you whined at his words, at the feeling of him all the way inside of you, that perfect stretch that gave way to something deliriously good as he began to move and in out, slow, deep.
you felt your eyes roll back, as if in slow motion, as you dug your nails into his arm, shuddered at the sensation as he pressed your hips harder into your mattress. "'s so deep, jack, fuck," you breathed, careful as a wince.
he held the top of your headboard with a steady grip, increased his pace. when he spoke, his voice was gritty. "that okay, baby?" he asked, shifting your hips to make you more comfortable, to make the angle feel better. "how's that?"
"so good," you moaned, raw, "feel you everywhere."
and it was true. he thrust in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace, with an intensity that burned through your body. time seemed to freeze, or maybe to liquify, to flow like molten rock. to scatter into oblivion, marked in breathy pants and strained moans, desperate kisses and tired muscles instead of minutes and seconds.
at some point, he took his hand off of your headboard, brought it to his mouth, bit down, as if to stifle a groan, as if to distract himself, last longer for you.
the thought shot right to your core, made your head spin faster, that his pleasure might run so deep, because of you, that he needed a distraction from it.
you moved your hand to your clit, rubbing carefully, moaning at the stimulation, which made you clench down, grip him in a maddening kind of way.
he gave a choked moan. "fuck," he grunted. "can't, jesus, can't do it, baby, so wet for me." his voice was a tortured sort of overwhelmed as his hips sputtered, as his pace continued, harder, faster.
he made to look away from you, maybe to sink his teeth into the flesh of his hand, again, but you wouldn't let him, instead reaching up to pull his fingers to your own mouth, press them against your tongue, soothe the angry red mark that had begun to show.
you swore your mind was somewhere else, somewhere shiny, somewhere sleepy, as you felt his stomach and thighs contract, firm and wiry.
"won't last like this, pretty thing," he breathed, a slight sheen on his collarbones, his forehead, shimmery under the overhead light. "so close, baby, feel too good for me." his exhale was unsteady. "so perfect like this."
"want it," you whined, so impossibly close, yourself. "need it so bad, baby, please. want all of it." your eyes met his. "need you."
he seemed to shatter at your words, at your request, his high, warm and hazy, triggering your own, a blur of whines and pleases and his hot breath at your temple, an all-consuming wave that had your vision blurring, had you clenching down on him so tightly.
he collapsed on top of you for the second time that night, this time his skin glowy and damp, the air sticky and humid as you both let your breathing normalize again, as you let your eyes flutter open.
he rolled to your side, refusing to unclasp his arms around your back, consequently pulling you to his chest, your nose against his breastbone. you traced a hand along the top of his spine, so perfectly content, so wonderfully blissful.
with anyone else, now would be the time when the anxiety really set in. now would be the time that the furniture started to hiss at you to get out.
such anxiety was nowhere to be found, though, not now. not with him. his rough hands felt soft on your back as he shifted deeper into your bed, making himself comfortable, making you comfortable, too, in succession.
and even though you knew it, he knew you, just so, so well. "'m staying," he whispered into your hair, "long as you'll let me."
your heart was pink jello in your chest. you pressed your swollen lips to his shoulder. "i'll let you," you promised.
and so your self-proclaimed frat-boy-ban was broken, completely done away with, replaced instead by the most delicious stability.
the already fast-paced semester was made a fairytale blur by your beautiful exception, in all of his endless kindness, his unrelenting loveliness.
how many afternoons did you spend in his lap, out on his front lawn? how many nights did you fall asleep together, tangled up in each other? how many parties started with his hat backwards on his head, but ended with it on yours, instead? when did you start to leave your window open, every night? how many mornings did he surprise you with coffee, remembering your order like it mattered, simply because it was something you'd told him? how many times did his beauty and thoughtfulness surprise you, again and again?
like the time you went with him to a baseball game, an away one, this time, to support his friends and brother, when you insisted that you'd drive. you'd had to stop for gas, halfway through, gotten out of your truck, had only just stuck the nozzle in before he'd come around the side to lean against the door.
you had felt yourself raise a brow, almost confused. "sort of a one person job," you'd joked, to which he'd smiled, leaned back further against the side, just waiting with you.
like he couldn't bear to sit in the passenger seat, alone, not when you were out here, hands idle.
or like the night of your ballroom dance midterm performance, in front of an audience (an audience that included a lot of your friends). you'd stumbled halfway through the steps, nothing crazy, but certainly enough to notice. your face had grown hot, an embarrassed strawberry-milk flush.
but then, across the stage, jack had tripped over his own feet, in a way that looked pretty intentional, if you thought so yourself, as if he wanted to draw everyone's attention for a moment. as if he wanted to keep any potentially judgmental eyes off of you. he caught your knowing gaze as he pushed himself off of the floor, shot you a cheeky wink.
or, like tonight, a phi's blind date formal. this event was always a highlight of the year, at the very least always entertaining, always a good source of drama, of gossip, for a few weeks following.
planning it was a nightmare, from what sam had told you, a disorienting flurry of spreadsheets and communications with different frats and teams. typically, each house was matched with a frat and an athletic roster, and the dates were assigned from there, based on survey results and different requests.
you were excited for tonight, not nervous at all, because you'd requested jack as your date, and sam practically ran the whole thing, so you knew there would be no surprises.
for you, tonight was just a fun opportunity to dress up, to hang out with your best friends and your favorite boy.
the reveal of the dates was one of the best parts of the night. you'd be called upon to come out the door, and your date was supposed to be standing on the front step to walk you to the venue of the formal, just a few blocks away.
you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, turned to sam as you slung your clutch over your shoulder. "ready?" you asked, to which sam gave herself a spritz of perfume, nodded. you held the door for her. "did you tell me already if you requested somebody?"
she gave you a grin. "quinn," she said, simply.
you laughed. "you're gonna drive poor alex crazy," you chided.
she just shrugged. "he's driving me crazy, more like," she corrected. "all he does is bitch and moan when i mention other guys, then he wears my sweatshirt like it's all he owns, calls me beautiful, all that nonsense." she gave you a look. "i'm losing hope, love. if he doesn't make a legitimate move soon, i might go for quinn for real, just for all his trouble."
when it was your turn to open the front door, you took a breath, turned the handle, weren't surprised to find that familiar figure on the other side, pink flowers in his hand, his suit fitting him so wonderfully, his eyes softening when they caught on you.
your smile came easily, so naturally, as you approached him. he reached an arm around your middle, pulled you into his embrace by the small of your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to his jaw in greeting before he pulled back.
"let me get a look at you," he said, soft, holding your hand at a distance, giving you a twirl that made you feel like a princess. he whistled. "i'm the one on your arm, tonight, pretty thing?" he asked, his smile toothy. "must be my lucky night."
you flushed with contentment, ducked into his side. "i'm the lucky one," you insisted, before the door opened again, making the two of you move to the sidewalk as he handed you your flowers, which you accepted with bashful thanks.
sam now stood in the open doorframe, but her wandering eyes narrowed when they landed on the curly-haired boy that stood on the front step. "what the hell is this about, alex?" she hissed.
"you look lovely, sam," alex said, undeterred.
"yeah, okay, thanks," sam said, "you know i requested-"
"i know," alex interrupted. "i vetoed your reuqest." he offered her his arm, which she took, lightly, reluctantly.
"that's not how this works," she reminded him, "you don't get a veto."
"i'm the president," he deadpanned, "of course i get a veto."
"i'm the president," sam retorted, "and i requested-"
alex sighed, turned to face sam, placed his palm over her mouth. "stop," he said, short, "talking."
her eyes narrowed, and jack pinched your side as you took in the sight in front of you. you shared an excited look.
"please be my date, tonight," alex asked, removing his hand from sam's face only after her mouth stopped moving. "for real."
after a brief pause, sam's mouth broke into a wide grin as she looped her arm through alex's, fell into step behind you and jack. "get up off your hands and knees, al," she teased, "'course i'll be your date. waited long enough, haven't i?"
it was a storybook sort of night from there, one defined by shared laughter and good music and gushing with your friends about their dresses.
time passed too fast in a blur of dance-floor spins that made the hem of your dress bloom, gentle touches and laughs into shoulders.
at some point, you and sam took a break by the edge of the venue, next to the refreshment table, having promised to bring jack back a drink. sophie approached you. you smiled, having not really seen her since the last chapter meeting.
"hey, sophie," you said, "this dress is stunning on you."
"thank you," sophie said, genuinely, before her eyes flashed. "if you see cole come up behind me, warn me, okay?"
"isn't cole your date, though?" sam asked.
sophie sighed. "technically, yes," she admitted, "but he thinks i requested him, which i didn't, so now he's being especially persistent."
you tilted your head. "so you got paired together because your survey results matched up? completely organically?"
"i guess," she answered, exasperated. "which i don't get, because we have, like, nothing in common."
"you have a little in common," sam said, "you both love baseball. it's, like, all you talk about."
"okay, so we have one thing in common," sophie conceded. "it's a conflict of interest! i'm supposed to be an impartial reporter!"
you shrugged. "impartiality is overrated," you said, and you meant it. now that you'd settled into being completely honest about how you felt, you couldn't imagine it any other way, couldn't fathom hiding that kind of thing from people that mattered.
"code cole, code cole," sam whispered.
"soph, you gotta stop running away from me," cole said, coming up behind her, shooting her that confident smirk. "tirin' me out, love."
sophie sighed, turned to face him, crossed her arms over her chest.
"care for a dance?" cole asked, extending his hand to her.
her gaze dipped to his fingers, then rose again. "i'll dance with you," she said, which made cole light up with excitement, "if you agree to give me at least one objectively useable quote after ever single game for the rest of the year."
cole blew out a breath like it was the easiest decision of his life. "done," he declared. he gave an enthusiastic fist pump when sophie took his hand and led him to the floor.
leaning back against the table, you and sam scanned the room, laughing at trevor's ridiculously bold suit, scoffing at nico, who was dancing with two girls at the same time, sharing a knowing glance when you registered quinn and luke, sitting at a table on the outskirts, luke's tie completely untied, quinn's tied around his head. the two loners appeared to be engaged in a game of cards with their respective dates.
eventually, you made good on your promise to jack, grabbing two drinks. when you turned your back on the table, he was walking up to you, his face pleasantly flushed, eyes so doting. your smile grew as he got closer. your eyes shut, delighted, when he threw an arm around your shoulders.
"there you are, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. you were hit with a dizzying sense of deja vu, knowing you'd been here before, knowing so much had changed since the last time you'd been in this position. "thanks for holding my drink for me."
you smiled up at him, leaning into his side, warm and firm against you. it was something magnificent, to have it not be an act, this time. to have it be completely genuine. to have it be real.
"of course, baby," you said, the slight tease in your tone made shimmery by the glint in his gaze.
he hummed, moved his arm down to wrap around your waist, pull you against him as he swayed back and forth to the music. you exhaled, so utterly at peace, relaxed into his chest, tilted your head back to look up at him. he met your gaze eagerly, that smile you so adored overtaking his face like a mural on the side of a building. "what?" he asked.
you shook your head, laughed lightly. because what, really? how could you sum it up? "you," you answered, honestly. "just you."
how could you sum him up? he was one million things. your pretend boyfriend in the face of campus security. your ballroom dance partner. your movie-night, good-morning text, sweatshirt stealer. your window-climber, baseball-watcher, owner of your favorite smile. your tke boy. your exception.
he was one million things, but, when he leaned down to press his lips to your hair, he was only one.
yours.
fin.
868 notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 8 months
Text
detachment (03/03)
with detachment, we see our mistakes honestly, make amends and start afresh.
pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader
summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.
word count: 8.5k
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thank you so much for joining me and giving your support to this short story. there will be no epilogue, this is the end, so i hope you enjoy it very much, love you all. see you in the next stories🥺❤
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"You look too happy, my Lady."
"I say the same of you, my Lord."
Lord Cregan smiles softly in your direction, without both stopping dancing and without ceasing to be the center of attention of some of the nobles still remaining in their seats and your family as well.
Even though there are more people around you both also dancing, the center of the huge Room gradually adding of more people to dance, still you feel many attentive looks on you and your betrothed.
"Well, we would draw a lot of attention if we weren't dancing and smiling, my princess. This is all in our honor."
You smile, lowering your gaze for a moment.
"Well… then I must say you are an excellent dancing partner."
"You too, my princess," he smiles at you, "Although, to be honest with each other, this is actually costing me a bit… feeling a lot of eyes on me," he confesses to you honestly, without wiping the small smile from his lips, "Especially when I feel like they're burning my skin at the moment."
At that moment you don't need explanations. You know Lord Stark means him.
"I apologize for that," you say apologetically.
"No, it's all right," he assures you, "It's a bit intimidating, too much actually, considering the prince's reputation in combat. But in a way… I understand what he must be going through."
This catches your attention, at once watching him intently and curious.
"You shouldn't," you make it clear to him, serious, "This is our wedding, you don't have to feel sorry for him. From what I told you when you went to Dragonstone, remember he has no right, he was the one who cancelled our betrothal."
"Honestly, my princess… I wouldn't be surprised if at some point in the night you disappeared and left me."
You lower your gaze, deep inside you a few moons ago you probably would have wished for that, for Aemond to arrive at any moment, take you away and wed you. But now… this is a duty.
It's not like that's really going to happen either, not now when everything is already happening. He is present, yes, but it's all in the past and he's getting wed soon too.
"I can say the same for you, my Lord," you say a little amused, "I too feel a certain… intimidating stare."
He smiles softly and denies with his head.
"No. I would never do anything like that to you, princess."
"But do you love her or not?"
"I shouldn't answer you something like that, princess. It would be disrespectful when you are my betrothed, not her."
"No," you gently shake your head, "It is all right, my Lord. It is my wish for you to be honest with me, believe me I do not mind," you assure him, "Besides, I think I know the answer from what you also told me on your visit to my home."
"Well," he looks a little apologetic, "Yes, of course I love her. But I realized it too late. Had I known sooner, I would have married her in an instant."
You can't smile, especially knowing that both you and Lord Stark have someone else in your hearts and yet the two of you are here about to be wed.
Unconsciously your gaze wanders to Lady Alysanne Blackwood who is seated at one of the tables with a glass of wine in her hand, staring into oblivion and quickly identifying her sad face which she is trying to hide.
And you know this because you were also doing the same thing and feeling the same way.
"Have you spoken to her, my Lord?"
You turn your gaze to Lord Stark, asking him softly.
"She said she is happy for me and wishes me a loving and pleasing marriage," he tells you also trying to hide his pain on his face and in his tone, avoiding looking to where Lady Blackwood is now sitting.
"I'm very sorry."
"No princess, you had nothing to do with it," he assures you instantly, "You don't have to apologize and feel responsible, just as I have nothing to do with what happened between you and your uncle."
"Then why do I feel that if my uncle or I finally do something about our union, you'd be all right with it?" you ask him curiously, "You wouldn't be upset and turn on my family if I leave and make a fool of you after so much?"
"Well…" he thinks about it for a moment, " I would feel a little humiliated? Yes. But to be honest, if I were him and I was seeing the woman I love marrying someone else… I would wish things in my favor and no matter what, I would take her away from here and marry her in a heartbeat."
"That is what you would do even for when we are already in these circumstances and everyone expects us to marry soon?"
Lord Cregan looks at you with a small amused smile and a somewhat questioning look.
"Are you trying to say that's what you would do, my princess?"
"I spoke in supposition, my Lord," you explain, "What if we were in other circumstances. As for instance that this wedding is happening against my will, with a person I do not wish to marry and where…. the person I love also loves me."
"Princess, it is improper what I will say and it is not gentlemanly of me, especially since I truly mean no disrespect—
"It's all right," you assure him again softly, "Speak freely, my Lord."
"Well… since you put it that way and apparently we're both on the same page… yes," he confesses with a soft look, "I would too."
You frown slightly.
"But I never said I—
"It doesn't need to be said and I know I don't know you too well, my princess. But I know you would too."
He smiles softly at you, as you watch him silently, saying absolutely nothing, thinking about his words.
"I have heard the stories of your mother and father. All of them have come to the North, very interesting stories and captivating to more than one, I must say. And knowing that same blood runs through your veins…I am already prepared for whatever you decide to do."
"I am already prepared for whatever you decide to do."
That repeats constantly in your mind, saying nothing for a few seconds as you continue to dance to the music and the specific choreography while Lord Stark follows your same step at all times, as do the other nobles around you.
But truly… what would you do?
Nothing. Just do your duty. And your duty is this.
Between you and Aemond there is nothing anymore. It's not as if at any moment you're going to run away with him, running away from your responsibilities, because you know he won't do anything and certainly you won't do anything either.
It's all said and done, he's getting married, you're getting married and what you once had, that love that existed is gone. And even though the stories of your mother and father still live on… you and Aemond are not like them.
Right?
"No need to worry about that, my Lord," you tell him as you both continue to dance, "You and I, that is what is happening now. He's betrothed too and there's nothing left of what we once was."
"I would not be so sure about that, princess."
You look at him confused.
"Why not?"
"I know the nature of the man. And knowing his father, Prince Daemon, a man who has my full admiration and respect, his nephew, Prince Aemond must be just like him. Besides, he would be a fool not to be acting now that the woman he loves is marrying someone else."
You deny with your head, understanding the point about your father, who also acted at one time with your mother at her wedding to your father Sr. Laenor, but he in the end did nothing about it.
And Aemond… is completely different.
Your father didn't break your mother's heart in the worst possible way, leaving her without explanation, much less just when both of them were already about to get married and have everything.
And about finally acting when the woman he loves is marrying someone else… it's something you don't fully understand.
"It's selfish, dont you think?"
"All men are selfish, I include myself. But the decision is always up to you, the woman I love and all women," he assures you with a soft smile, "Now…." he makes you both stop dancing, holding your hand delicately, " I will know your decision soon, princess. I'll be here waiting."
Confusion begins to overtake you, not understanding anything.
"What do you mean, my Lord?"
He does not answer you, on the contrary, he places his gaze over your shoulder, looking at something or someone specific, barely giving you time to react, because at that moment Aemond appears between the two of you, placing one of his hands on Lord Stark's shoulder.
"May I, Sr. Cregan?"
This immediately catches your attention, as Aemond keeps his attention on lord Stark, who watches you for a few seconds and then nods in his direction.
"Of course, my prince."
All the other people around you continue to dance, as lord Stark begins to walk away to disappear among all the people… and you watch Aemond without expression really, even more without understanding anything.
And when he looks at you, it's like reliving all those moments, all those moments where you both shared kisses, caresses and those promises of love, also all those moments when you were children.
However… he says nothing and simply places now his hand on your lower back to start guiding you towards the center of the Room, you walking too instantly, both of you making your way through all the people dancing.
Nerves invade you, especially because this is the first time you are in front of him after everything that happened, taking into account that you ignored his request about meeting on the island, although he has it more in mind than you.
But everything happens too fast.
You are completely oblivious to the looks that Otto Hightower and Queen Alicent are giving you both, while your mother and father don't seem annoyed like the previous ones mentioned, but rather curious and expectant.
While Aegon… he couldn't be having more fun with the moment, especially delighting in his little brother's audacity and his mother's and grandsire furious stares, especially his grandsire.
Aemond glances sideways towards the table, or towards his grandsire specifically, being very aware that he is being watched. But honestly he couldn't care less.
He's had enough. And he doesn't care that this isn't what they expected of him or that it will lead to serious consequences later, he doesn't care anymore… because he will finally make things right.
"This is what you want?"
Is the first thing he says to you once he has your attention in High Valyrian, both of you being surrounded by all the people dancing to the music, while he and you remain in the middle of it all, standing in front of each other, your attentions on each other.
And his question bothers you, because it is certainly not what you expected to hear from him after so many moons apart and in which he never once explained anything to you when you needed it most.
He simply questions you about your marriage, his serious look on you, while you answer him with the same attitude and manner.
"It's none of your concern what I want, uncle. It's not like you'll care either, just like I don't care what you have to say about my wedding either."
Uncle, not Aemond, just…uncle.
All your words anger him, instantly watching you with such intensity and with his jaw clenched, leaning more towards you with that defiant look.
Then you answer him in the same way, watching him with your chin up and your serious, determined look.
"The man from the North is a good and noble man who will drive you to boredom even before you both say your vows before the Seven, so tell me niece….. do you really think he deserves you?"
"Don't tell me, uncle. Now you're going to say you're the one who deserves me?"
Aemond clenches his jaw tighter.
"You didn't let me explain."
"It was too late for your explanations, don't you think?"
"I waited for you and you never came."
"Well, now you know what it feels like to be left without explanation," you tell him in a bitter, serious tone, "Not to mention that I had to hear the news of your new betrothal afterwards."
Aemond does not take his gaze away from you for a second, not even caring that you are in public and in the open view of other people, especially his family, because at that moment for him… it is only you.
And honestly… you don't care either.
You had been waiting for this moment, nothing feeling more than satisfying than paying back the man who supposedly loved you in the same way, making him feel what you felt.
"Perhaps you would understand why I did it if you would let me explain," he tells you serious.
"No," you tell him serious and annoyed, "Your explanations I needed to hear when you broke me and left me. Not now that you're finally acting when my wedding to another man who isn't you is happening."
He watches you completely serious and attentive, while you are being more than firm with your attitude and your words, even defiant.
"So if you will excuse me… I have to find my betrothed."
Putting the matter to an end, you turn around and start walking away from him, trying to make your way through all the people around dancing.
But it's barely three steps that you advance when Aemond stops you by the arm and makes you turn on your own axis to be face to face with him again.
And Gods… he is furious.
Again you watch him defiantly, more by the fact that he holds you by the waist and pulls you completely to him, bringing another of his hands to your cheek, preventing you from running away from him again, while you watch him seriously and in expectation of his next move.
But he's not mad at the fact that you won't let him explain himself, but at your words, your betrothed.
"First I'm going to burn everything to the ground before you have a chance to marry that fucking northern man," he warns you mumbling under his breath, their faces mere inches apart.
You try to pull away from him, but he only makes his grip on your waist tighter and his grip on your cheek tighter, watching your whole face, your precious face with possession and desire, watching your lips between parted as your gaze also watches his, reprimanding yourself.
"Let me go. People are watching us."
"Then let them see," he says without a care in the world, his gaze possessive and dominant, "Let them see who you truly belong to."
You press your lips together, upset.
"You are so selfish."
"When it comes to you…you don't have a fucking idea. And I'm not going to let you go."
At that moment, both of them are indeed getting attention, but not from the noble people, but from their families.
Otto Hightower clenches his hands into fists and squeezes them tightly with a deathly stare, while Queen Alicent watches the scene in disbelief, not having the slightest idea how to fix her son's behavior.
But Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon... are only anticipating what will come next.
"If you don't let go of me I'm going to scream," you warn him between your teeth.
But at this, Aemond can only smile with a certain self-centeredness and satisfaction, as well as looking amused.
"Oh I would like to see you try, my love."
And then the next thing he does is to take you firmly by the arm and start dragging you towards the exit of the Throne Room, unnoticed among all the people dancing, while you try to put up resistance in an instant but with Aemond's strength it's impossible.
You think about screaming, as you told him you would, but causing a scandal would only be worse, so you let him lead you, who with quick steps makes sure no one follows and takes you away from all that absurd and boring feast.
But once you both leave the Room, that's when you can finally stop him and confront him.
"What are you doing!?"
"I want to explain," he insists serious.
"No!" you exclaim in annoyance, "I don't want you to explain anything! Can't you see that I can't leave my own feast? What is my betrothed going to think? And your betrothed too!?"
"I don't give a shit about your feast, your betrothed and my betrothed, now come," he says as he again puts pressure on your arm to continue to lead you away.
But you put up a resistance again.
"No! Let go of me, Aemond!"
"Don't make me repeat myself again, Y/N."
"This isn't fair!"
"Nothing is. Now stop resisting and walk," he tells you disinterested.
"You're so fucking selfish! You don't even have any idea what you really put me through and now you want to ruin my wedding because since you don't care, you think I must not care too!"
Aemond, starting to lose his patience, sighs and has no choice but to, without waiting for you, grab you and place you on his shoulder like a sack to start walking quickly away from there without further inconvenience.
"Aemond!" you exclaim in surprise and in horror.
"Are you going to behave now?"
"Put me down! Put me down this instant!"
"I don't want to."
"I have to go back! We're going to get in trouble because of you!"
"Too bad."
So the only smart thing you can think of at that moment is to keep complaining and trying to hurt him with your not so convincing closed fist punches, neither is squirming and making his job of carrying you difficult and unbearable, because simply nothing worked.
With your protests being further and further away from the Throne Room, with no one coming to your rescue, though if so they wouldn't stand a chance against Prince Aemond, he finally puts you on the ground as you enter one of the many balconies of the Keep.
"Seven fucking Hells, will you stop yelling already?"
"And what did you expect? You're taking me away from my own wedding!" you exclaim in anger.
"It's not your wedding Y/N!" he exclaims to you again serious and annoyed, "Do you really think I'm going to let you marry that fucking Stark?"
"And what about your betrothed?" you inquire instantly, incredulous, "You don't know that you can get us in trouble for this? Spare us the embarrassment, Aemond. My father must be looking for me by now and he'll put your head on a spike if he finds us."
"I don't care if your father finds us, neither does my grandsire, my mother or your betrothed," he tells you with a certain mocking, serious tone. "I don't care about any of this, Y/N. And I certainly don't care about my fucking betrothed because I'm not marrying her."
A smile and a disbelieving, absurd laugh escapes your lips, shaking your head.
"Yes, of course."
But the look Aemond gives you at that moment is a terribly honest and serious one in which he shows he's not in jest.
"I'm serious."
"Well, tell that to your grandsire," you tell him in a bitter tone, "I'm sure he'll kill you first before my father if you don't do what he or your mother tells you."
He lets out a long sigh, tearing his gaze away from yours for a moment, running one of his hands across his chin.
"Y/N—
"Why are you doing this?" you interrupt him seriously, annoyed, your skin burning and all the discomfort coursing through your body, "Why now that I am about to marry Lord Cregan? Why not before when you left me with no explanation and crying for you with the thought of your soon to be wedding to Lady Baratheon?"
"Nothing I did to you was my intention, Y/N," he implores you, earnest and honest, "Nothing was my choice, I never meant to end our betrothal."
"Then why?" you spit at him, "Is it that you don't want to see me marry someone else but I'm not going to marry you either?"
"Because the war will soon be upon us," he tells you in an instant, serious and seriously needing at that moment to explain himself, not wanting you to hate him more by listening to his reasons, "We all know that my father may die at any moment. And when that happens… the war between our families will begin."
You frown, shaking your head slightly.
"Now what are you talking about?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," he says taking a few more steps towards you, "Your mother is the Heir, we know that, but still… she is a woman and she will have a lot of people against her by the time comes."
"Many people or your mother and grandsire specifically?" you ask him expectantly.
Aemond lets out a long breath.
"Aegon is the first born son, everyone will expect him to be the next King."
"Aegon is a fucking drunk who doesn't even care about the Throne, Aemond!"
You exclaim absurdly to him, sick of this.
"He has said countless times that he is not interested in the crown and does not want to rule, but it is your grandsire who keeps insisting and wanting to take total control of everything on his own whim and for his own ambition, denigrating my mother knowing very well that my grandsire has named her Heir and has never, not even consciously, said that he wishes Aegon to succeed him! " you tell him incredulously, "And not only him, your mother is also against mine, letting herself be led by everything your grandsire tells her."
"And what is going to happen when your mother sits on the Throne, hmm?" he inquires you as well, "She can order to kill me and all my family because of the pressure of the people by having not only one, but three sons of the King, where none succeeded the crown."
All the confusion invades your face instantly, staring at him in disbelief and as if you can't believe it for even him, Aemond Targaryen, being the intelligent man he is, to think such a thing, about to retort but he continues to speak.
"Do you really think that even so if we had married, your family and I would begin to get along?"
He inquires you, incredulously and your breath catches.
"It's not that I don't want to Y/N, it's that I can't. What kind of sister cares more about some supposed lies to a maimed eye? If she had no sympathy for me at the time, less will she have for when the people reveal themselves against her and she wants to secure her Throne."
"Seven Hells," you mutter incredulously.
"I know Aegon isn't cut out to rule, but at least with him on the Throne he secures my life, Helaena's, Daeron's and my niece and nephew's."
"So is the idea of me and my entire family being killed better?" you ask him bitterly, "All this nonsense is what your grandsire and mother have been telling you all this time? Turning you, my uncles and my aunt against your own sister? Don't you realize how sick with ambition and power that is? Is this why you canceled our betrothal?"
You don't need to hear the answer to that, you already know it. But he only confirms it when he doesn't say anything to you and with a sorrowful look, looks away from you for a moment, to which you don't know whether to laugh or cry.
You honestly can't believe it.
You knew that Otto Hightower hates your entire family but not with such fervor to the point of interfering in his own grandson's life, not giving him the chance to truly marry for love.
And destroying his thoughts about you and your mother for his own ideologies and for his own lust for power to put Aegon on the Throne.
Otto is even capable of turning all the common people against your mother out of envy, not only being enough to marry his only daughter to the king, taking advantage of the pain of others and securing his position even more.
You truly hate that man and also Alicent Hightower for letting himself get led and turn his children against his own sister with lies, being that she once loved your mother and yet was led by her father to hate her simply because of her freedom to be princess and being named by the king the Heir to the Throne.
"My mother has never, not even when she was named Heir and Aegon was born, thought in such a way about you."
You make it clear to her in a serious and more than offended voice.
"All she has wanted has been, even since you and I were children, to keep the peace between our families, even proposing to marry Jace to Hel and give you a dragon egg to you, but your mother turned her down at every opportunity because of your grandsire disgusting ideas."
You tell him annoyed, serious.
"She couldn't even recently stand the thought of marrying you to me, blinded by hatred and feeding you too that same hatred to hate her. And I understand what happened years ago, I understand that my mother is not to your liking, but she truly regrets having acted as she did in understanding your mother's position, she being the first to support us with our betrothal," you remind him in a bitter tone.
Aemond watches you completely attentively, without saying anything, with his lips pressed together.
"So tell me Aemond…. if she really plans to kill you and your entire family, then why would she go to the effort of uniting our families and supporting our betrothal?" you inquire, "Do you think it's all a strategy? Because I assure you that my mother with all she has to deal with in Court, being judged at every turn for being a woman, especially by your grandsire, would not waste herself with all those attempts to ultimately become a kinslayer."
And then… Aemond feels as if a huge weight has fallen on his stomach, leaving him for a moment without air.
He continues to watch you with a expressionless gaze, when inside he is thinking completely about your words, while you watch him firmly for your words, knowing perfectly well that you are right.
And that's the truth, Aemond also thinks you are right.
Kinslayer.
A sin.
A word and an action that makes you a disgrace to the entire Targaryen dynasty. A curse to your name and in which you will be remembered forever, as Visenya Targaryen was once called, though this is only a supposition.
But this word Aemond knows really well, as do you from the stories. And considering your mother's position and the one who will become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you know that your mother could never be called that if she is truly committed to her reign.
And she is, you know your mother really is and Aemond knows it too, despite how much that makes him furious, but for his grandsire and his mother's ideas, reminding him that then Lucerys inherits all of Driftmark and he... inherits nothing.
Or at least, now he inherits nothing.
For had he married you, you being the second born daughter of the Heir, Dragonstone is your castle and that would have been home to both of you.
Aemond considers that Rhaenyra can probably have them killed… accidentally as well.
But you… seeing you now in front of him after so many moons apart and after all that happened, he still trusts you and really believes in what you have told him.
What purpose would Rhaenyra really have had in marrying her daughter to her half-brother and then killing him? It doesn't make any sense.
And just as every mother cares for the happiness of her children, Aemond knows he was your happiness and your mother would never do that to you. And you… seeing that he says absolutely nothing to you, you can only watch him with a somewhat satisfied look, nodding slightly in his direction.
"That's what I thought," you mutter to him without much emotion.
And the next thing you do, you turn away from him and start heading towards the balcony exit to return to your feast, leaving him behind, assuming you've already said everything you wanted to say to each other. But again Aemond doesn't let you go so easily and stops you.
"I want to wed you."
And to your bad luck, you really can't put up any resistance and turn to him again, with a bitter look on your face and feeling again what it might have been when you heard his words.
"You were already going to wed me, remember?"
"All right, you're right,' he tells you serious, letting out a long sigh, "I should not have done what I did to you, I should not have listened to my grandsire words, nor should I have accepted my betrothal to the daughter of Lord Borros."
"It is too late now, Aemond."
"I'm not marrying her, Y/N."
"Oh and you're seriously going to go against your grandsire?" you inquire not really believing it.
"I don't fucking care about my grandsire, Y/N!" he insists annoyed, quickly heading towards you, "He can fuck himself as well as his alliance with Lord Borros, I really don't care about him and neither do I care about my mother. All I want, all I've ever wanted… is you."
You snort, turning your gaze away from him for a moment, to again stare at him incredulously.
"And what is going to happen when the King dies?"
You ask, expectantly.
"Now you know that my mother has never thought nor will she ever harm you, your brothers, let alone Hel or her children, besides she is the true Heir… who assures me that the first thing you will do is support the right side and not support the idea of usurping my mother?" you question him, "Do you think I want you and I to live at war too? That we will eventually start hating each other by supporting two different sides?
"And what do you want me to do, Y/N?" he asks you in the same way, "I understand about my brothers and Helaena, but who assures me that your mother won't go for mine's head? She is my mother after all, I can't leave her alone."
"She won't do anything to your mother, Aemond!" you exclaim in exasperation, "The two of them loved each other as children, my mother hasn't forgotten how much she held her in high esteem in spite of everything and you think she would dare to hurt her? Think Aemond and forget everything your grandsire has told you!" you exclaim, "It is your grandsire who is doing all this, separating us, creating rivalry and hatred, it is for him that my mother will go if he does something against her, not for anyone else."
You make it more than clear to him while Aemond says nothing for a few seconds, watching and listening to you attentively, to which you continue to watch him without understanding, to then let out a long sigh and deny with your head.
"Still none of this matters, I have to go back," you tell him without much emotion to resume your way.
But again Aemond reacts and stops you by taking you firmly by the arm as he turns you towards him and holds you by the waist.
He pulls you completely towards him, while he places another of his hands on your cheek and brings his face dangerously close to yours, surprising you by such closeness and stealing your breath.
"Aemond," you say in a whisper.
You show him that this is wrong, but he doesn't mind at all, on the contrary, he brings his face closer to yours.
His breath hits your face, watching you again with that possession and that desire, completely attentive to your face, your beautiful face, while you don't understand anything but you know that if you try to pull away, he won't let you.
Although again you feel all that you used to feel before when he was courting you, realizing that you have never really stopped feeling this way for him, scaring you and making you feel disappointed because again… you must do your duty and so must he.
However, you can't help but feel really desired by him, just like before, all these thoughts invading you as you want to be his, just as you also want him to be yours, watching his face and lips intently unconsciously, unable to resist.
But this is wrong, completely wrong.
"What do I have to do, Issa jorrāelagon, to put all this behind so that you will agree to marry me?"
He murmurs more than willing on your lips, not letting go of you for a second, not willing to let go of you for a second, being terribly honest with you, this immediately catching your attention and again stealing your breath.
But it's not just his words, it's him, everything about him.
His face, his figure, his grip on you, so fucking alluring and attractive, which is what you hate but at the same time is also your weakness of him.
And despite that, despite the fact that even though you don't want to, you're slowly giving in to him, yet you still have some willpower and you don't just think about yourself, you can still think about the other people there at the feast.
"I-I can't," you look at him sadly, "Cregan Sta—
"Y/N."
He stops you making your grip on your waist tighter and his gaze more determined, really not wanting you to talk about him and wanting you to focus right now, on you,
"Just tell me what I have to do and so I will do it. Just tell me."
He insists and you… hesitate.
You haven't the slightest idea what to do.
"If I were him and I was watching the woman I love marrying someone else… I would wish things in my favor and no matter what, I would take her away from here and marry her in a heartbeat."
You remember Lord Cregan's words, as you continue to watch Aemond in front of you intently.
"I am already prepared for whatever you choose to do."
"All men are selfish, I include myself. But the decision is always up to you, the woman I love and all women."
"I will know your decision soon, princess. I will be here waiting."
Basically Lord Cregan Stark… was understanding with you and will already be prepared… if you choose this.
If you choose Aemond too, in the same way he has already chosen you over his family and his betrothed.
Then you think of your family, your mother and father, who will probably be very disappointed in you if you do not return and marry Lord Cregan, losing a great and important alliance with the man who owns the whole North.
But you remember what your mother was willing to do many years ago, when she was in the same position as you are now with Aemond, who completely forgot about the alliance and thought of her, her happiness, by asking the man she really loves to steal her away and take her to Dragonstone to marry her.
Now, knowing the history of your ancestors, how some of them chose love over duty, why shouldn't you do the same?
"Let my mother know what your grandsire is planning, avoid war," you tell him finally, "Kneel to her and swear your sword to her if you truly love me and if you wish me to marry you now."
In other circumstances, Aemond would have thought you are asking too much of him, but now that you both already know the truth, you his and he your mother's through you, he understands your point and thinks it is fair.
And if this is what he has to do so that you are finally his and he can finally call you his wife, which is all he has ever wanted, then so he will.
"Anything else?"
He gently caresses your cheek with his thumb and you, knowing with that his response, knowing that this is what he will do, finally stop feeling tense and let yourself be completely led by him, leaning into his body and his touch, feeling how slowly that weight on your shoulders disappears.
Just as you also Aemond feels that guilt stop invading him and finally now that he has you, he feels safe, loved and at peace.
"Promise me you won't break my heart again," you murmur against his lips.
Aemond gently shakes his head, leaning down to leave soft kisses on your cheek, starting a little trail, making you let out a sigh and place your arms around his torso, finally feeling you too at peace, having really missed this.
"Never again," he finally murmurs in your ear, sending shivers throughout your body and sounding like a promise.
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Everyone in the Throne Room begins to look uneasy when one of your guards that your mother sent to look for you returns and whispers in his and your father's ears that you have disappeared.
Immediately Princess Rhaenyra glances at Queen Alicent, who is already watching her and instantly understands what is happening, turning quickly to her father with an alarmed and worried face as they and in fact everyone at the table also notice the absence of Prince Aemond.
The fact of this news does not really go unnoticed as your father immediately orders his entire guard to search for you throughout the Keep, at the same time Otto Hightower also orders them to find his grandson.
Your brothers and sisters, as well as your mother have an idea of who you are with, considering he too is nowhere to be found.
While Princess Helaena in the center of the Room begins to hear the murmurs of all the nobles, especially the ladys as they watch the entire royal family curiously, wondering if the bride has disappeared, also watching Cregan Stark out of the corner of their eyes.
Cregan Stark also watches everyone around him curiously, as the news begins to spread quickly throughout the Room, earning the sorrowful glances of all the lords.
And when Cregan finally understands what is going on, just as he had told Princess Y/N, he was already prepared and immediately turns to look at Lady Alysanne, who looks at him in surprise and disbelief.
Prince Aegon continues to drink wine completely amused by the whole situation, really feeling proud of his brother, delighting in his grandsire's behavior and reaction.
Princess Rhaenyra rises from her seat and looks with her bewildered gaze at her husband, who watches her seriously but at the same time with a certain resignation.
"I told you this would happen," he tells her as everything continues to be chaos in the Room.
"Shall we go to them?"
Prince Daemon lets out a long breath, clutching Dark Sister's pommel that hangs at his hip.
"She and especially he better have a good excuse."
Your mother and father get the idea and are sure that's what you and Aemond are doing now and Alicent and Otto Hightower as well, feeling horrified at the idea compared to your parents.
But before Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra set off, it is first the duty of both of them to bring order to the Throne Room and talk to Lord Stark, who doesn't really look bothered by anything, before going to find you and Aemond.
When the news that Otto didn't want to hear, reaches his ears, and that is that your dragon Silverwing has left DragonPit and they also saw Vhagar flying away in the skies some time ago.
Meanwhile in Dragonstone… considering Kings Landing is not far away and it's quick dragonback travel, you and Aemond are finally joining blood.
All the emotion comes over you, really everything being in favor of both of you calling a Septon who has been at your family's disposal all the time you have lived in Dragonstone, who agreed to perform the ceremony, while the maidservants brought you both the clothes your mother and father wore when they also had their Valyrian wedding.
And now being here with Aemond, it's really happening.
He holds Dragonglass in his hand as the Septon begins to recite the correct words in Valyrian, about to join his blood with yours, being just as excited as you are, but dissimulating a little more.
"Hen lantoti ānogar"
Blood of two
"Va sȳndroti vāedroma"
Joined as one
Aemond directs the blade to your lips to slightly cut your bottom lip, then you also do the same with him and so then both of you bring your thumb to the bleeding part and place blood on each other's foreheads.
"Mēro perzot gīhoti."
Ghostly flame
"Elēdroma iārza sīr."
And song of shadows
"Izulī ampā perzī."
Two hearts as embers
Then you both cut the palm of one of your hands with the blade, and then join the two cut hands so that the blood begins to drip and fall into the chalice in the middle of both of you.
All the while you watch with a small smile on your lips, really not believing that this is finally happening, while Aemond watches you with adoration in his eyes, with a barely visible small smile on his lips.
"Prūmī lanti sēteksi."
Forged in fourteen fires
"Hen jenȳ māzīlarion."
A future promised in glass
Once the chalice is considerably full, both drink from each other's blood, as is the tradition of Old Valyria.
"Qēnlossa ozūndessi."
The stars stand as witness
"Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo."
The vow spoken through time
"Rȳ kīva mazvestraksi."
Of darkness and light
And finally you both permanently seal your wedding and your love with a kiss, finally being husband and wife.
After that, you lead your now husband to your chamber, where as soon as Aemond closes the door behind him, you perfectly understand that look on his face, one of complete desire and in which you barely have time to react as he pulls you to him with force and kisses you with need.
If you didn't feel the same way he does, you would have asked him to slow down… but you are just as desperate and completely crave his touch, to feel him, to become one.
"I'm not going to let you rest, ābrazȳrys. Not now that I finally have you," he promises you in the midst of kissing, beginning to remove your clothes.
"Nyke jaelagon ao, valzȳrys," you murmur against his lips.
I want you, husband.
And Aemond completely delights in your word, husband… being everything he wanted to hear you say to him.
He again devours your lips like a man possessed, not having enough, needing more, not believing he will stop anytime soon, not caring that the whole castle hears your moans, wanting to hear you say his name, just his name, all the time.
Soon both of you are already in your bed, you completely naked, while Aemond just needs to take off his pants, the sight of his naked torso turning you completely delighted, his worked body being another of your weaknesses.
You begin to moan and sigh as Aemond begins to bite and suck on your nipples, completely kneading your breasts with both hands, his two large hands in firm, possessive motions.
You breathe fast, feeling the pleasure invade you, needing more, as well as your juices beginning to drip between your legs.
"Aemond," you gasp, pulling his face closer to your chest.
"Does it feel good?" he asks you in a whisper, licking your flesh, making you moan louder.
"Yes, yes, it feels so good."
Aemond smiles against your skin, then descends one of his hands, spreading your legs wider and touching your most sensitive part, your entire nerve core with his fingers. You arch and moan in complete arousal, as he strokes you up and down being easier for him because of your wet folds.
"Fuck," he murmurs, biting your breasts.
"Aemond!" you moan.
He pulls his face away from your breasts and focuses on your face never ceasing to skillfully move his fingers, delighting even more in your expressions and your lovely face, as he feels his entire manhood hard and in need of attention.
"What? You need me to prepare you properly, my wife?"
"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, please," you look at him pleadingly.
"What exactly do you need, princess?"
"Aemond," you sigh, your whole face contorted in pleasure.
"Do you need this?"
His middle finger enters you, making you sigh and gasp harder, pulling Aemond closer to you.
"Yes, yes, I need it so much," you say as best you can.
Aemond smirks again, kissing your lips, silencing your sounds for a moment, continuing to move his finger in the ideal way inside you, making you sigh, gasp and moan just as he needs.
"You look so pretty like this," he murmurs against your lips.
Without warning, he adds a second finger, which makes you squirm and begin to wiggle your hips against his hand, needing more, as Aemond kisses and marks the skin of your neck, bringing his other hand to one of your breasts, squeezing it and making you gasp more.
"You're going to feel so good around my cock, my beautiful wife," he murmurs in your ear.
Aemond in his fantasies has always wanted to taste you, just as he has always wanted to know how it would feel to have your lips around him, how pretty you would look, completely at his disposal, wanting to make him happy in just the same way he wants to make you happy.
But now… he really doesn't want to wait any longer. He needs to be inside you, now.
Considering you'll have more nights like this, everything he wants to do to you can wait, so without further ado he pulls away and stops touching you, instantly getting your attention, but you watch as he quickly gets rid of his shoes and pants, needing to free himself.
And when you see it, excitement and terror run through you at the same time.
You don't know if he will fully enter you, his size really scaring you, as Aemond watches your reaction completely proud of himself, leaning back into you as he makes his way between your legs.
"I need this, so much," he murmurs against your lips, kissing you, as with one of his hands he strokes himself.
"Take me, husband," you ask gasping, "Take me now."
Then Aemond's gaze turns dark and utterly possessive.
"You are mine, aren't you?"
"I am yours. Completely yours."
"You want me to fill you with my seed? Do you need it as much as I do?"
"Yes, yes, I need it, please," you ask, "Do it, Issa jorrāelagon."
Aemond doesn't need to listen anymore, he places his manhood at your entrance and slowly begins to thrust, while you press your lips together to avoid screaming too loudly and close your eyes tightly, feeling him open you completely as a pain and burning that is not at all pleasant washes over you.
"Shh, shh, my sweet wife," Aemond quickly comforts you, hugging and kissing you gently, stopping himself, "It's all right, all right. Tell me when I can move."
"It hurts," you murmur back, tears beginning to form in your eyes.
"I know, I know, it just happens at first, then it will feel good, I promise," he assures you softly to then kiss you again, taking all the time he needs with you, really not wanting to hurt you.
He distracts you by again caressing you, either touching your breasts, licking your nipples and also bringing one of his hands back to your nerve core, making you feel again the pleasure of before, without him moving inside you even an inch, waiting for you to get used to it.
When without realizing it, you again begin to moan and pleasure begins to run through your body, not even when Aemond cautiously begins to move inside you again, until all of him is inside.
That same pain and discomfort returns, but to a lesser extent. And when Aemond begins to gently move back and forth, you sigh and let your head fall back, finally feeling good.
At that, Aemond begins to take more confidence and moves his hips faster, each thrust being a wave of pleasure, causing you to cling completely to him and sigh between his face and neck.
"You like it just like that, my love?"
"Yes, Aemond, just like that," you murmur in his ear, delighted.
"Can I go faster?" he asks you in a growl.
"Yes, yes, it's all right."
Then Aemond adopts a new motion, faster and deeper this time, making you moan loudly again as he grunts and delights in each thrust, feeling you clench around him and your juices filling him completely making the penetration faster.
He holds you by the waist and penetrates you faster, bringing his mouth to your breasts again, marking all over your skin, never stopping moving, as you feel something start to grow inside you and need to be released.
Just like what he is feeling too.
That one night he doesn't just spill his seed inside you once, he does it more times, in different positions, as you both touch and caress each other, seeming like you can't get enough, Aemond telling you in your ear over and over again how much he loves you.
Until eventually you both finish and the next morning, you feel a satisfied tingle between your legs, as Aemond for the first time after a long time, feels good about himself, needing no more as he holds you in his arms, both of you still naked and resting from the intense and long night you shared.
You both wake up fully and prepare for the day, both knowing very well that you both have to go back to Kings Landing to face the consequences of your actions. But now that you're both married, neither you nor he really cares much, as long as you're together.
You finish breakfast, everything still feeling like a dream, a dream you really don't want to wake up from, when you hear the roar of dragons in the sky.
You immediately exchange a glance with Aemond, as the two of you watch through your windows and your mother's golden dragon along with your father's red dragon make themselves seen on the island.
You both knew this would happen, so you were already prepared, and truly not wanting to argue because everything is already done, they both leave the chamber and head out to greet your mother and father, the two of them mentioned ready to demand an explanation.
But before Prince Daemon explodes in anger at his nephew, the words and his action are completely forgotten when your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, watches as her half-brother takes his sword and kneels before her.
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luveline · 5 months
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i have a request idea! maybe aaron x reader where the reader is bullied/ being maltreated by her roommates like that one remus headcanon you filled? i love protective hotch but i get it if you don’t think this goes with him! your fics give me sm comfort thank you for writing them <3
thank you my love. fem, 1.5k
cw bullying/ unfriendly roommates
You can't believe it's Aaron's car. No way is his timing this bad. There's just no way he's home from a case, that he's chosen to visit without calling first, today. Right now. 
He's out of the car before you've so much as wiped your cheeks dry. You've never seen him park that fast. 
"What are you doing out here?" he asks, looking you up and down. "Let me help you up, sweetheart." 
Sweetheart so soon after seeing you —you must look terrible. You take his hand and stand up off of the floor, unperturbed as he brushes down your butt and thighs. 
"Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asks, soft, "It's wet, honey, you're crying– What's wrong?" 
You remember suddenly that you have someone on your side. Shaking, you tuck your arms under his and cross them behind his back, the fabric of his suit jacket familiar under your trembling fingers. You feel like a kid again at the mercy of other people's cruelty, but this hasn't been something you could run away from. The meanness takes root at home. But now Aaron's here and he's holding you, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head delicately, his voice a murmur as he reassures you, "It's alright." He presses his cheek to the plane just adjacent to your eye. "Honey, please don't cry." 
"They smashed my vase," you say into his chest. 
"Who?" 
"My roommates, Aaron, they don't– don't like me." The vase was a gift. Special to you, irreplaceable, you've brought it safely from one place to another without ever having broken it. It was in the kitchen, housing your most recent bouquet of flowers from Aaron. "Macy said it fell over, but they were laughing, and they said the same thing about my bag, my– my sketchbook. They keep ruining my things, they throw away my food, and they laugh at me all the time, even when I'm not doing anything. I know they are."  
The laughing is honestly the worst part. Like your reaction isn't even worth considering, it doesn't bother them that you're upset, they just giggle and tell you to feel better. Sometimes they apologise like it wasn't them. Sorry about that, maybe don't leave it somewhere it could get ruined? with a smile that hardly counts as sympathetic. 
"How long has this been happening?" he asks. 
Months. "Since we met, at least." 
Aaron makes a noise you don't understand. You wait for him to say more, but he only rubs your back diligently for a time before ushering you into the car. A bag of takeout has gone cold in the passenger seat, the backseat busy with his go bag and a new bouquet. He's very, very good to you. 
In the car, he reaches across the console to fret over you, stroking your damp cheeks and rubbing your shoulders. You feel as though all your energy has been stolen. All you can do is lean into his hand as he wipes away your quiet tears. 
Hotch watches you cry in his passenger seat and feels pretty angry. It's not often like him to turn to anger when the people he cares about are upset. He's more of a problem solver. But when it's as bad as it is now, he doesn't bother restraining himself. 
He knew there was something about your roommates that you weren't telling him. Obviously, as the partner in the relationship who doesn't have roommates, Hotch hosts the majority of your 'sleepovers'. It's easier and awards more privacy most of the time, and honestly, he's not at the age where he's very interested in bumping into people on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He'd prefer to be home, and much prefer to have you there. 
He was wondering about asking you to move in, but there never seemed to be a good time, and right now your answer would likely be influenced by the insecurity of your home rather than true desire to live with him. He knows one day, he'll ask, and one day you'll say yes, (or he hopes), and so he keeps it in mind but otherwise proposes a temporary arrangement. 
"Let's go get some of your things and you can stay with me for a few days," he says. 
"Are you sure?" you ask. "What about Jack?" 
"He'll be happy for the company. Trust me." 
Hotch isn't shallow, but he likes being that little bit taller than you, and he's no brute, either, but he knows he's intimidating at times. He'd never use his position to scare private citizens in civilian disputes, but seeing the amusement in the eyes of your  roommates turn to nervous recognition when he follows in behind you makes his day. 
She's not alone, he thinks, putting his hand to your back. 
He might put their behaviour down to jealousy. Not so much that they wish they were with Hotch, there's hardly been any desire for him coming from either woman, but your happiness. You're a nice girl, a good girl, good in the sense that you don't need to knock others down to be happy. He treats you accordingly. 
He pointedly doesn't greet them as you show him the corridor down to your room. Your door is ajar, which he doesn't like, but you don't say anything about your things. 
"What do you need?" he asks.
"How long will I stay?" 
"However long you need to. If you want time to feel better while we manage this, or you need to move. I'm with you." He again thinks of the lack of a lock. "I'd say bring your valuables, honey. So nothing miraculously breaks." 
He ends up packing for you. He knows you well, and he's more than aware of what you'll need to survive for a week. What clothes, which pyjamas you favour, even your skincare. He has a career in identifying small details, but it's a better duty knowing you so well. He does that for fun. 
You stop by the door and turn into his side, hesitant to leave. He hates seeing you wilted, usually so bright. "They're talking about me." 
Your roommates are indeed whispering in the kitchen and Hotch would bet money that you're correct, but he doesn't want to encourage that line of thought. It could easily become a seed of doubt that leaves you anxious and paranoid. 
"I'd hope they were discussing their own bullying," he says. 
You rest your forehead on his arm. "What did I ever do to them?" 
"You're happy. You're grateful and loving, and some people can't stand it. They can't rope you into their misery," he guesses. "Have you considered the possibility that you're a bad roommate?" 
You laugh into his jacket reluctantly. "You know I'm not."
"Maybe you behave with me," he says, rubbing the top of your shoulder. Your laughter draws a silence in the kitchen. Hotch can't help himself. "Don't forget to turn your security camera on before we leave," he says, holding a finger over his lips. 
You smile. "Oh, I almost forgot about that." 
Your roommates aren't so full of cheer as you go. At least without a lock on the door, Hotch can be confident that his… bending of the truth will buy your possessions a few more days of safety. You don't have to tell your roommates that you're leaving, evidenced by your bags, but Hotch is feeling awful, and he says, "Do you have your bathing suit? Your passport's in the bag." 
"What is wrong with you?" you whisper through laughter as the door closes behind you both. "I had no idea you were this quick to tell lies." 
Hotch pulls your bag further up his arm to take your hand. "I wasn't lying about anything, your passport is in the bag, and I asked a question. If that question implies that you're about to have a fun weekend, that's coincidental." 
He doesn't want your roommates thinking they have any power over you. Not an inch of it. And he doesn't want you thinking that they do either, knee deep in plans for the forthcoming days. He's going to spoil you to death if he can, starting with a new vase for your waiting flowers, and a good squeeze on the way down to the car to prompt you into relaxing. 
"Sorry about all the fuss," you say. 
He kisses you twice. "Don't think of it that way." Rather boss-toned, he softens, "I'll deal with anything for you. I'm sorry they've been cruel." 
You exhale. He can tell from the tug of your eyebrows that it's partly for his benefit, and the more lax set of your shoulders that it's partly genuine as you brush it off. "Doesn't matter. Just an excuse to spend more time with you, yeah?" 
"Yes," he says immediately. "You're right, honey. Exactly right." Starting with one of his clumsy neck massages and a much more practised kiss, he thinks. 
788 notes · View notes
cheonstapes · 6 months
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😝 omg I absolutely loved the way u wrote spider barbie!!! Thanks again so much!! 💕✨
If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to send in another request lol. 😅 (unless there’s a limit on how many requests can be sent, I completely understand 😊)
I would like to request Miguel O’Haraxfem!Jessica rabbit inspired reader. She’s the most beautiful & generous spider woman across the multiverse, which makes sense since she’s also the most desired among the spiders. Maybe one day she’s hanging out w/ her friends (Miles, Gwen, Hobie, Pavitr, & Peter) at the spider society cafeteria when everyone in the group could be discussing their Valentine’s Day plans. Until they decide to ask her if she has a date or any upcoming plans (The spider gang not knowing she’s already married to Miguel 😂) When asked she just zones out and has flashbacks about all the multiple dates her and miguel went on throughout the multiverse, including the spicy times they shared together~ 😉
When asked again, she lets them know tht she’s already in an established relationship w/ Miguel; which makes the spider gang’s jaws drop bcuz even though miguel is a good looking guy they can’t understand how a ray of sunshine like her ended up with someone as serious and angry like Miguel 😂
The spider gang could ask: “What do u see in tht guy?!?!” 😱 Spider-reader: “He makes me laugh..😏”
Thanks again! 😊🙏🏻
miguel o'hara stars in... 'WAIT...YOU'RE ROGER RABBIT?' (°ロ°) !
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a/n ~ i absolutely love jessica rabbit, girlboss, she's so hot. TYSM for this request my love!!!! there's never a limit ( ` ω ´ ) send as many as you want bby 💗 i went a little overboard but this was so fun to write!! ALSO ITS MIGUELS BIRTHDAY!!
summary; it's valentine's day at hq, and everyone can't help but wonder why you're still single.
pairing; miguel o'hara x reader
wc; 2.3k+
cw; FLUFF!! SMUT!!, secret relationship, pining, no one can believe you n miguel are together, loss of virginity, m!masturbation, pillow fuckin, fleshlights, miguel fucks an ai you, first time, established relationship, reader is very popular, day dreaming abt miguel (real), they're just in love, nawt proofread - crying over this
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valentine’s day at hq was always fun - for you least.
every year since you joined the spider society it seemed like the gifts would multiply - what stared out as some cute cards and a couple boxes of chocolate eventually turned into bouquets of roses, teddies, gifts, and even declaration’s of love. it was all flattering, honestly. to know that so many people admired you was a great feeling, even if you can’t reciprocate - it’s the sentiment that counts. but unfortunately you were already spoken for - by none other than your own boss, your fiancé, miguel. 
having started with such a beloved reputation was one of the main reasons your husband-to-be actually avoided you at first. it was like you had your own personal fan club - spiders’ following you around where you go, people offering to by you lunch, begging miguel to put you on a mission with them, showering you with compliments. you were really irritating to him, another distraction he didn’t have the time to deal with - not that he wanted to anyway. well, that was until he did. 
gradually, he started to notice how your eyes would light up when you’d see something you like, how you’d wear that one perfume thats scent would linger a bit too long in the air, ages after you’ve already sped off down the hallway. he warmed up to you eventually, leading to you two spending a lot more time together. little dates in the different universes, him picking up a little souvenir for you on missions and you doing the same - eventually leading to you two moving in together, and then him proposing. keeping you two’s relationship a secret was a decision that you both had to make, considering how popular you were and that miguel’s your boss. so every valentine’s day, you both celebrate together privately in miguel’s nueva york condo - exchanging gifts and kisses, drinking till you fall asleep in each other’s arms. this year, however, was a little different. 
hiding a relationship isn’t the easiest thing in the word, especially at a time like this - when all you want to do is pounce on your fiancé every time you see him ’n kiss him till you’re both breathless. it was getting tiring. it’s the day of love and you can’t do the one thing the day is about, love someone. you’d both send lingering glances at each other throughout the day, sneaky touches when no one’s looking, maybe even a few quick make out sesh’s in miguel’s office. you both knew you wouldn’t make it through the rest of the day, eventually separating as you sat in the canteen with some of your spider-friends - ones miguel wasn’t very keen on eating lunch with, leading to him retreating back to his office alone. 
the table was buzzing as everyone mentioned their plans for the day - miles taking gwen to his universe on a little day out that he swears isn’t a date, pav and gayatri going to her new movie, peter and mj having someone babysit mayday so they can go on a long-overdue date, and hobie - well, he doesn’t believe in valentine’s, i guess. you so badly wanted to join in, silently chewing on your ’spider-man 2099’ themed burger. your fiancé was basically everywhere, how can you not miss him - even if he’s just a couple minutes walk from you. it was bittersweet, to say the least, to listen to your friends so passionately- 
“hey, y/n, any plans this year? please tell me you’re finally dating someone.” the sudden voice made you jump, eyes widening as you look at the culprit, a sly smile on her face. “uhhh, n-no not really.” that was a lie. the whole table groaned their complaints, all still in disbelief that you’re still not seeing anyone. “you serious? love, look at you - and look at them.” hobie gestures to the crowd forming behind the table, all of them holding some sort of gift for you - some more…extravagant than the rest. “there’s no way that you can’t find someone, babe.” i mean, technically, he was right - you could practically get anyone you wanted. but, you already got what you want, and that’s miguel. 
he’s your everything. despite the turbulent start you both had, it was all worth it in the end. miguel loves like you’re his last - which you are, and his first too - in all aspects. hearing your boss was a virgin was even more shocking then him admitting his feelings for you - cause, like, how? you tried so hard not to laugh, he couldn’t be serious. it turns out he was very, very, very serious. you felt so bad, running up to him and holding him tightly - reassuring him that is was ok, that there was nothing wrong with being a virgin no matter his age. you took it slow for the first few months, nothing more than heated kisses and a bit of groping but it never went further than that. to be honest, you were scared. miguel was nothing short of impatient to feel you, to finally sink his cock into you after centuries of you denying him of that. you knew, of course, how desperate he was - but it was a big deal to you. the thing was, you were a virgin too. it was too sudden to mention so you went with keeping it a secret, but damn was it getting harder to not give in. the thought of him leaving after fucking you was at the forefront of your mind, you obviously knew he wouldn’t - but men are still men, right?
when he did find out, it went a hell of a lot better than you expected it to. both of you deciding to take your time learning each other’s bodies, exploring new likes and dislikes, discovering new kinks, and overall - strengthening the love you both hold for each other. your first time was magical. it was exactly three years ago now, on valentines day, sprawled out on miguel’s plush, king sized bed.
“f-fhhuck, feels so good, baby. are…are you doing ok, sweetheart?”
he was so attentive, making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, constantly asking if you’re feeling alright. it couldn’t have been more perfect. miguel’s large frame engulfed you as you sat in his. lap, his body pressed against the headboard. holding you close, he guided your hips slowly against his slick cock, the stretch momentarily caused a sharp pain to run through your body - miguel soothing you with sweet, wet kisses down the side of your sweaty neck. his large hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, waist, gently kneading your ass. the room felt hot, sweat mixing together as your hips move in tandem with his own - it was a prime example of love making. breathless kisses were shared, lips slotting together sloppily as you rode him eagerly - you were such a sight on top of him, a goddess sent just for him. “mig- baby, you’re so- shit, you’re so perfect.” no, you were perfect. soft skin pressing against his solid body, tits rubbing on his - slick running down his length. your moans were like a chorus of angels singing down to him, his heart almost pounding out of his chest from the love he feels for you. 
sharing a moment like this together was a turning point in your relationship. giving each other your virginities, connecting in a way you will never experience with anyone else - you were made for each other. his hips sped up, slamming into your sore cunt as he wrapped his arms around your waist. digging his feet into the soft sheets and pulling your hot body into his, lips latching onto your jaw. you still couldn’t believe he was a virgin before he met you. the way he moved, the way his tip would hit that one spot deep by your cervix, the way his thick fingers would caress your aching nipples - he had to have had some sort of experience. but the truth was, miguel had little to no sex drive. not feeling compelled at all to even rub one off, he was too busy after all - trying to keep the multiverse in tact. that all changed when he met you. suddenly, in his 30 years of living, did he have his first wet dream - and it was about you. 
he felt like a teenager again, learning things for the first time. watching porn for the first time was something, spending hours looking for a woman who looks somewhat like you - much to the interest and concern of LYLA. this was very serious to him, knowing that he would eventually fuck you - he would spend all his free time learning how to please you properly. tutorials, articles, and just plain amateur porn were his best friends. he would practice with his pillow, even buying a fleshlight to stick between it to just make it a little bit more realistic. at one point, he felt like he completely lost it. spending months learning how to fuck you wasn’t making him feel any better, he didn’t feel like he really knew how to please you. so what did he do? he made a holographic version of you, of course!
programming it to be exactly like you, using your measurements from when he made your suit to get your body as accurate as possible. it wasn’t really you, but it was good enough. he still had to work out the kinks but he was getting there. he ditched the porn completely, using ai you to progress instead. fucking an ai isn’t as easy as you think, but it was enough to help him figure out what positions he wants you in, even what ones you’d like statistically. miguel never did end up telling you about it, keeping ai you locked away in a secret folder. he was no stranger in letting you know how obsessed he was with you, but this was just embarrassing to him - and knowing you, he would never live this down. but don’t worry, LYLA’s always here to remind him time and time again. 
miguel was never the same after he lost his virginity to you - he became insatiable. it was like a switch flipped in his brain and suddenly he was always horny for you, quickies in his office becoming daily occurrences. speaking of quickies, you could feel his cum from earlier pooling in your panties right now- 
“yn? YN! is she- is she ok?” oh…you were at lunch still. everyone at the table was staring at. you with raised brows, silently intimidating you into spilling what you were so engrossed in to the point where you missed the whole conversation. you obviously weren’t about to tell them you were just thinking of their boss fucking you into next week, like come on - think about the kids, guys. “i…i, uh- it was nothing really. sorry about that, just zoned out for a sec.” it was something, someone as a matter of fact. you might as well tell them, what’s the harm in it? you’re only gonna get absolutely bombarded by everyone and anyone in hq but that’s the least of your worries. the table had seemingly moved on, chatting about their plans again before you jumped in - “actually, i do have plans.” that certainly got their attention. all eyes were on you, even the crowd still lingering behind perked up at your comment, leaning closer to hear what you had to say. 
“me ’n miguel were just gonna stay ho-“ 
“MIGUEL?!”
gasps. that’s all you could hear. everyones jaws were dropped, blinking their eyes at you like a bunch of frogs. “what? am i not allowed to spend time with my fiancé-“
“FIANCÈ?!”
it’s like every time you spoke it got worse, the table erupting in shouts of disbelief - it was getting difficult to speak over them, the constant questions being thrown at you were overwhelming to say the least. you weren’t obligated to explain yourself, love is love - even if it’s between someone as lovely and sweet as you, and someone as moody and feral as miguel. you guys made it work and that’s all that matters! someone else had something to say on the matter though, the commotion prompting miguel to emerge out of his cave and head straight to you.
“as i was saying, he’s my fiancé, we always spend valentines together. miguel is a great guy. yeah, he’s an asshole - but you just gotta get to know him.” you’re not wrong, miguel certainly seems to agree. the table went silent, staring up at his figure looming over you. “i don’t appreciate you guys harassing my wife. now, if you have no further questions - we have plans tonight, that don’t involve people prying into our privacy.” you spun around in your seat, looking up at him sheepishly. his eyes seemed to warm up at bit, a large hand reaching out to you - one that you immediately take. he held you close to him, interlocking your fingers tightly as he addressed the table. “and…our wedding is next year. you’re all only invited ‘cause she wanted you guys there. do not disappoint her.” with that, he turns on his heels, dragging you along with him - he didn’t want to deal with them anymore, not when he had the rest of the day to spend loving you instead. 
“baby, y’sure you’re ok with everyone knowing about…us?” that was a stupid question. of course he was, you’re his - and he’s yours. “you’re about to be my wife cariño, todo el mundo necesita saber que estás fuera de los límites - ‘specially that fuckin’ fan club of yours.” he was such a big baby, pouting like that. “oh my god! you’re jealous of a bunch of kids who have a little crush on me, babe. ‘sides, i think it’s quite cute - i got so much chocolate this year-“
“throw them away, i’m getting you all that and more.”
-cariño, todo el mundo necesita saber que estás fuera de los límites - sweetheart, everyone needs to know you're off limits
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-the miguel figure on my dresser says hi!
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bedoballoons · 7 months
Text
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
A/n: This is a part 2! Angsty! They try to apologize, readers unsure if they can forgive them and lots of pleading/apologies! No happy endings so I apologize in advance! Thank you @0vendettaself for the idea!
Requests/asks open!
{༻~They said something they didn't mean~༺}
(Includes: Diluc, Albedo, Alhaitham, Xiao, and Scaramouche!)
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𑁍༄Diluc:
"Just leave me alone. I don't need you bothering me, I deal with that enough already."
Diluc took a step closer to you, feeling guilt swallow him whole...how could he have said that to you...the person he loved so much. "You're never bothersome to me... I should have never said that..I'm so sorry." His voice was pleading with you, his hand reaching out to touch your face just like he always did, but before he could actually touch you, you pulled away from him...
"Diluc, you can't just say things like that...and then say you're sorry and think that makes it all better." You crossed your arms, covering yourself protectively as warm tears started to make their way down your cheeks...your heart hurting at the thought of being...bothersome...to someone you loved so much. He couldn't just say that and not mean it...right?
He swallowed harshly, racking his mind for some way to fix this...take away what he had said, "You're right, I just...is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" You looked away from him, unable to answer because in truth...you were asking yourself the same question.
𑁍༄Albedo:
"Could you please just get out of my way, I have very important things I'm working on and you're not helping."
Albedo reached out, grabbing you by the wrist harder than he meant to, in a attempt to stop you from leaving. His bright blue eyes looking at you with so much guilt in them, "Please don't leave...I like when you're with me, I was just having issues and I took that frustration out on you...I'm so sorry. I swear you're not in my way my love." His voice cracked as he begged you to stay, but you felt like you were just in the way now...and honestly you weren't sure if that feeling would go away easily.
You pulled your wrist out of his grasp, trying desperately to not cry in front of him..."Albedo, you never say things you don't mean and clearly I was bugging you,...I'll just leave for now." Your voice was barely above a whisper as you rushed out the door, leaving him on the other side of it, wondering if you could ever forgive him...if he could ever forgive himself.
𑁍༄Alhaitham:
"This isn't something you'd understand, not unless you've doubled your IQ overnight."
Alhaitham closed his book, sighing at his own ignorance when it came to love...to people, he could tell he had upset you greatly and yet he had no idea how. "I truly didn't mean to hurt you... What did I say that upset you? I'll make sure to keep it to myself next time..."
You could barely believe what you just heard...he didn't even realize what was wrong and he'd just keep it to himself next time...which meant it wouldn't solve a thing. "All of it Alhaitham. All of what you said, your tone of voice, that annoyed look you give me...you make...you make me feel stupid. Like I'm not smart enough to even compare to you...and it hurts because I already worry about things like that."
He stared at you, his eyes widening as you spoke...but he said nothing in return, what could he say, even he didn't know. In the end you left, not another word said by either one of you...
𑁍༄Xiao:
"Leave."
"No I'm not leaving...it's not your choice wether I stay or not Xiao, it's mine and I would rather spend all my days with you with that slim chance of you hurting me, then spend my life without you and always be hurting." Your words sounded so fragile now...your mind racing with the horrible thought of possibly never seeing him again. How would you even be able to stay in Liyue... everywhere...everything was showered with memories of the two of you together.
"You...you can find someone better. Someone who doesn't have that risk to begin with...I'm sorry. I shouldn't...I shouldn't have given you hope, I just...wanted so badly to love you, but my love is dangerous and even though you're right, leaving is your choice...it's also mine. I'll leave." As he spook your heart sank deeper and deeper, into a bottomless pit of depression...it was like drowning but so much worse. You opened your mouth, wanting to yell at him not to go but...he disappeared before you even had the chance...leaving you...
𑁍༄Scaramouche:
"I don't love you, honestly how could I when you're just a mortal and I have the power of a god."
You backed up more, your back up against the wall as hot tears rolled down your face... everything you once believed about your relationship suddenly wavering. "H-how could you..." You stuttered, unable to properly think as he apologized over and over...trying to take it back, but it had already sunk in. It was like a knife shoved into your stomach, twisting with each meaningless apology.
"I don't know! I just spoke without thinking, I wanted to hurt you but not...not that badly! I'm sorry I didn't fucking mean that, you're the only one I've ever loved." His voice cracked as he continued to move closer to you, his hands shaking with anxiety...if you left because of this.. he'd be all alone, again. "You can say something rude to me, or I can do something to make you feel better...just, just don't go. Please."
You shook your head, using your arm to wipe away your tears as you shoved past him, bolting towards the exit, why would you stay...for someone who didn't love you.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a good day!*⁠.⁠✧
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antxlss · 5 months
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but, you’re my boss II
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pairing: anakin skywalker x reader (modern au)
summary: the day comes for your big blind date. you should hate the guy, but you can’t help but let him grow on you.
warnings: none
words: 2.3k
a/n: guys I was so quick with this one. anyways this is giving enchanted by taylor swift vibes to me. let me know how you guys like it! ~ max <3
-—————————⋆。‧˚ʚɞ˚‧。⋆—————————-
part I | series masterlist | my masterlist
You wake up on Monday morning to the sound of your phone going off next to your bed.
You look at the time, it's 7am, it's time to get ready for work.
You pick up your phone and open your texts to see a message from Padmé. She sent it just a minute ago.
Good morning queen, I have the details for your date and I have to tell you the man is hot (but I don't want to give you any expectations). But go get 'em, bitch. Tonight, 7pm, go meet him at Sandalwood Cafe!
You groan and slam your face into your pillow.
Why did I agree to this?
You roll out of bed and begin getting ready for work.
You spend most of the day nervous, your mind racing with doubts about the date and if you'll click with the guy. You start to wonder if you made a mistake agreeing to it, but the doubt is constantly shoved aside by Padmé's positive tone and support.
As soon as work lets out, you head home to get ready for the date. As a last minute touch up, you spray some perfume under your elbows, the type of perfume that Padmé told you her new Tinder match had told her he liked. You check over in the mirror one last time before heading out.
You decide to walk to the small cafe since it is only a few blocks from your apartment.
You arrive and step into to the cute establishment.
You look around for a few seconds before your eyes land on a handsome looking young man sitting in a chair near the doorway. He's a little on the taller side, his dark blond hair and blue eyes making him very charming. As he notices you walk through the door into the cafe, his eyes immediately find yours, and a small smile creeps onto his cheeks.
You smile back as you take in his appearance. He looks nice and well put together, probably a lawyer or a doctor or something like that. Someone you'd see on television.
Your breath got knocked out of you. You could've sworn you looked petrified.
It was your fucking boss.
Why would Padmé do this? She knows how you feel about that conceited asshole.
You paint a polite smile on your face and try your best to contain yourself.
"I am. And you are?" You ask, even though you very much know who he is.
You can't believe he does t even recognize you. You honestly weren't even shocked.
He gets to his feet to meet you, extending his hand out to you. He's much taller than you, and you look up at him. His eyes are locked on to yours and you can't help but get a little lost in them.
He speaks with a very smooth but gentle confidence to the point that you just want to stare at him while he speaks.
"I'm Anakin. Anakin Skywalker. I'm so glad you could make it. Would you like to come sit down?"
You internally groan. If you weren't literally desperate for male interaction, you would've just walked out. Might as well just give it a try.
You follow Anakin as he leads you to the table he was previously occupying.
He pulls out your seat for you and waits for you to sit down before he seats himself across from you.
He smiles and leans forward, putting his elbows on the table as his eyes continue to gaze intently at yours, never breaking the eye contact for more than a few seconds.
He speaks without the gentility he showed when you first met. "Padmé told me what I was getting myself into and I have to say, I still can't believe how beautiful you are in person. I hope you don't mind me saying."
Your heart fluttered at his flattery. Why did he have to be so much of a gentleman. You wanted so badly to hate him. To be fair he's never given you a reason to do so.
"Thank you." You smile. "So, how do you know Padmé?"
He's in complete control of his emotions and shows the same confidence he did while at work. You feel completely powerless as you're unable to resist his charm. You can tell Padmé wasn't kidding, he's absolutely charming.
Still staring intently at your face, he leans forward onto his elbows.
"Oh, she and I matched on Tinder a few days ago. She thought we might hit it off, so she set me up on this date." He speaks like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh, so that bitch gave me her seconds. I see how it is." You laugh. "I'm assuming she wasn't into you, you know, since she set us up?"
He chuckles, completely unfazed by what you said by the insult.
He leans one elbow back on the table and clasps his hands together, still staring intently at your eyes and speaking with that same charm, as if there was no tension between him and your relationship with Padmé.
"No, she says she thinks I'm great! In fact, she thought I was handsome, which was why Padmé sent me your way."
He lets out another small chuckle, still keeping eye contact.
"No offense, but you definitely aren't her type. She goes for the more grungy 'bad boy' type." You giggle.
Once again, Anakin seems unfazed by what you said.
While he's still leaning in on one of his elbows against the table, he still is staring intently at you.
He speaks, still confidently.
"Well... I'm not too sure about her type... she did swipe right on me though, so I guess that counts for something?" He chuckles, still staring at you, not breaking eye contact.
You decided to get risky. What did you have to lose.
"Well you may not be Padmé's type, but you're mine."
Anakin keeps looking at you and you notice that his eyebrows raise. His gaze is still sharp, but now there's a twinkle in his eye as he smiles at you.
You feel butterflies in your stomach and you can't stop smiling.
Anakin leans forward and rests his elbows back on the table.
"Oh?" He smiles, keeping eye contact.
"Mhm." You smile, not breaking the eye contact.
You feel your heart pounding in your chest.
Anakin remains seated for a moment longer.
With a slightly deeper voice than before, Anakin speaks and looks you straight in the eyes without blinking.
"I'd like to take you out." His eyes go back to you smiling. "On another date... that is."
You laugh. "Anakin we've only been talking for like two minutes. We know nothing about each other."
Yeah like the fact that he's your fucking employer. You have to tell him that you work for his company. He's literally your boss. He'll find out eventually either way.
He chuckles, and with a look of confidence on his face he leans forward.
"Maybe we don't know anything about each other in terms of our pasts, but I do know a bit about you." And he stares directly at your eyes.
"From this conversation, I've found out a few things about you. You're a beautiful girl with a great sense of humor. You're confident but not in an arrogant way. And you're not too hard to look at," Anakin laughs a little, smiling and maintaining eye contact.
"Hmm, we'll I guess you know me pretty well." You joke. "But really, let's just talk, get to know each other, and then by the end of the night I'll let you know if I want you to take me out again."
Anakin lets out a soft chuckle and leans back slightly, still looking at you with his charming smile.
"You know what? That seems fair. We just got here."
He chuckles again, still speaking with that same confidence and smooth, gentle tone in his voice.
"The night is still young, and so far you seem awesome."
"So far... Okay, ask me a question, what do you want to know about me?" You ask.
He sits back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other at the knee.
He puts both of his elbows on the table and leans forward towards your direction, keeping his attention on you.
He looks at you for a second before speaking, thinking of a good question.
"Where are you from?"
"I'm from Texas, but I moved to New York City to attend Baruch College. I liked it here so much, I decided to stay." You reply.
It's hard for you to even keep eye contact with him. His looks, his confidence, his smooth, gentle voice.
He speaks like he's not distracted at all and fully in the moment, like your beauty did not even throw him off.
"Why'd you choose that college specifically?"
"Really just because it's in the city." You shrug. "What about you, where are you from?"
"Hmph, fair enough."
Anakin chuckles.
"I'm from the Hamptons. Born and raised."
Oh so he's rich, rich.
There's a pause in which he doesn't quite seem to say everything he was thinking. His eyes are still glued to yours, and you can't stop looking at him either.
"What are you studying at that college?"
"Forensic Phycology. I'm working on my masters right now. Most of my school is online." You reply.
Anakin leans back in his chair again, crossing his legs over each other at the knee. He rests his elbows back onto the table again and leans towards you.
"Forensics, that sounds really interesting. Most of your school is online? How's that working for you?"
He still looks at you with that same charming smile and his eyes on your face, not breaking eye contact for longer than a few seconds.
"It's actually pretty good. I thought I wouldn't enjoy it, but it gives me a chance to work while I finish school." You admit.
Anakin chuckles, and looks back at you for a few seconds.
After a moment of silence, Anakin speaks again and leans forward.
"What is it that you do for work?"
Anakin continues looking you dead in the eyes, a twinkle in his eyes as he waits for your response.
Shit.
You have to tell him. You can't lie. Especially since you are surprisingly really liking him.
"I'm a receptionist. At Skywalker Engineering."
You sit and anxiously wait for his response.
Anakin sits back in his seat a little after you tell him.
After a moment he speaks in a soft tone, a bit surprised.
"The receptionist?"
After a second he chuckles.
"I didn't think we had a receptionist. I'll have to talk to HR about that for the next work report."
He continues to chuckle, still looking at you. He seems a little relaxed after hearing that, like it did not bother him in the least.
"We may have to talk to HR about the boss going on a date with his employee." You state smugly. "You really don't recognize me?"
Anakin leans back in his seat, smiling as he responds to your comment. But once your eyes land on him, that twinkle in his eyes returns, and your eye contact becomes almost magnetically drawn to him.
"I recognized you the second I saw your eyes."
A moment of silence.
"You're right though, we will need to talk to HR about that. But for now, this is just between you and me."
He smiles at you.
How could you have ever hated him? You didn't even give him a chance. Now that you've actually talked to him you found out that he doesn't even like his job, he's just carrying on the family business.
The more the night goes on, the more infatuated in him you become.
The night finally comes in. You and Anakin clean up your table and push in your chairs. He walks you out to the street.
Anakin smiles at you as he walks you out to the street.
He extends his arm out and you take it, your fingers brushing against his. His touch is gentle, so soft and soothing, but at the same time the touch is full of passion and desire.
As you walk with him, you look up at him and can't help but smile right back at Anakin.
"I had an amazing time tonight. Thank you for taking me out."
"It was my pleasure." He grinned. "So do you have an answer for my question earlier."
Your cheeks grow red. "Yes Anakin, I'd love to go out with you again."
Anakin's eyes shine with joy and he chuckles, looking at you as he responds.
"You just made my night."
He takes you in his arms and leans in close. Your eyes are both locked on each other. He looks at you intently, and you can see every single line of his facial expression. Anakin speaks in a soft and gentle tone, it's as if you're the only two people in the world.
"Can I have a kiss?"
You stiffen up. You haven't kissed someone in almost a year, let alone your boss. You say exactly what was on your mind.
"But, you're my boss."
Anakin just stares at you for a moment, but his gaze remains intense. Your heart is still fluttering in your chest, and Anakin's gentle look is drawing you in. You want to kiss him. You've never felt this way before.
He speaks with this same soft and gentle voice, still looking at you and maintaining eye contact.
"Yes I am."
He leans forward slightly, still keeping you in his arms.
"But, I don't care."
You let go of all your anxieties and let your body guide you as you lean forward to meet Anakin's lips.
You both lean forward at the same time, and his lips meet yours. It's not a quick peck, but a long and drawn out kiss as Anakin continues to hold you in his arms on the sidewalk. It's so passionate, and your hearts are racing. You don't ever want the kiss to end.
To your dismay, Anakin pulls away. You look him in the eyes.
"Thank you for tonight." You smile. "See you at work?"
And with that you turn and walk home with a blush on your face the whole way there.
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kalims · 11 months
Text
sugar
flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.
do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.
falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.
w/ malleus draconia
commissioned by paru !
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flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.
typically if it was anyone else, they'd have a really hard time to gauge out a reaction from malleus when the most they'll get is probably a barely evident crease, or raise in his brows.
in this case tis our very lovely mc who malleus is very much already on the ground from how fast he fell. you could do just about anything, give him a rock or something, and he’ll thank you eternally and keep it in a room above the most eccentric gifts he's ever gotten.
(god forbid if sebek ever enters, and sees some random rock on a pedestal meanwhile his gifts for the master is just.. there on some table like malleus didn't even think twice to leave it there then worship that rock!)
^ well thankfully, out of respect. sebek believes that someone like him simply is not privileged enough to enter the room of his esteemed master.
anything remotely affectionate from you would definitely send malleus to cloud nine for the whole day, he's practically emitting comical hearts every second you're together. they're trailing after him as he's following you around.
so you have a variety of choices! a heartfelt compliment, a hug, maybe even a kiss. whatever you choose will only feed on the overflowing glass that's called; 'malleus' love for mc'. trust me if you think he's like 67% in love with you, you're WRONG.
it's actually 101% and it's still increasing I swear 😭 
well the glass I was talking about is probably overflowing right now, and it's also probably going to start drowning everyone.
as in… everyone's just stuck to witness malleus' insanely endearing reactions to your shenanigans. should they be scared that malleus would probably do it in a heartbeat if you asked to take over the world??
yeah they should tbh.
in this case, I believe a close hug then a whisper in his ears would really make that arrow hit straight to his heart. you can't just whisper 'doritos' though! /j but you shall instead proclaim your love for him instead with a single 'I love you'.
it's funny to see his face completely freeze. you can practically hear his brain absolutely blowing up. there's a wobbly grin stretching across his face, the tip of his ears turn a shade of pink.
he looks… shy, but oddly pleased.
hellour congratulations malleus will not stop till you're both bound for life 💀 trust me he won't take anyone else if it isn't you anymore. he loves you THAT much.
malleus is not aware of the feeling blooming in his chest, it's foreign. he could even describe it as addictive. he's clueless really, but what he's sure of is that he wonders if you'd feel that too if he did the same to you.
oh well.. you've exposed him to such a euphoric feeling. it's only natural for him to return the favor. 
so honestly just expect him to be the rizzlord for the rest of your existence, he's rizzing you up every chance he can get. and the fact that most of it is just him not trying at all, and just being himself.
which is also funny cause when he does try to 'charm' you it ends up in fail.
like who let him bring you the 'rewards of his hunt' as a courting offering.
and when he tries to recite a letter he wrote for you, it's very endearing, and flattering but he's been talking for quite a long time now and you're concerned.
do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.
*malleus holding a big ass bowl* yes pls
^ but that's if he knows it's chocolate, and still wants the legit kiss. in a way that's the amount he'd want if it was the real deal.
not that he does know! cause malleus isn't exactly educated in the chocolate culture. as horrifying as it sounds, i doubt he snacks on chocolate in his free time.
I guess he didn't have much time to be a child :(.
he's tasted it before though! but knowing specific brands doesn't really cross his mind. for malleus chocolate is just chocolate. 
so he definitely doesn't know that there's a brand of chocolate called kisses.
so when you ask him if he wants a kiss he's like: yes. IMMEDIATELY. 
ok maybe not immediately but he gives you this certain look, and when he registers your silence at his face he realizes that you're being serious. 
malleus rn: well I mean ur offering so 
WHEN DID HE EVEN FINISH EATING A MINT CANDY.
jokes aside it's almost sad to think how he'll react when it's in fact, not a kiss.
when you pull out some kind of thing wrapped around in some kind of foil and place it inside malleus' palm he's just confused. where are his kisses?? why are you giving him this thing??
malleus spots the 'kisses' label on it and blanks.
oh.. so that's what you meant.
okay he's happy to receive anything from you but that's foul play!
but he really likes you so he won't comment on it 😞 you didn't even elaborate so it's partially his fault for jumping into conclusions.
no one can explain, not even you when there's a visible aura radiating off malleus. something gloomy, and he won't tell you even if you point out that you've noticed him constantly glancing at your face.
well your lips but you also don't know that.
falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.
would refuse to move at all.
first of all, he's honored that you trust him this much to lower your guard, and fall asleep on him. malleus is aware, sorta. he doesn't stop talking but instead slows down his words.
he doesn't want to wake you up, does he?
so he just settles on rambling in hopes that even in your dreams, his voice would reach you. you'd dream of him day, and night.
but when he's done malleus makes very little movement, hyper aware that you've fallen asleep on him. so when he finally assumes a position most comfortable for you, (plus one where he wouldn't crane his neck too much to peer at you) and he just stares.
he's done this plenty of times when you were awake so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. maybe it's because he sees you awake every time, and when you were, he could see the slightest bit of exhaustion present in your eyes.
this way he can be at peace knowing you are.
he recalls your certain features, he'd love to just gaze into your eyes right now and see himself in it but the fact that he can feel all your weight on him is better than anything he's ever felt before. 
cold, rainy days in nrc are just a blessing from grace.
but you now just discover that rain here is a lot stronger than your local pour back at home. to make everything worse, you had no idea it was gonna rain this hard, and if you did you wouldn't have taken the time to visit the city on a sunday.
now you're stuck waiting under a cover outside a shop. your patience honestly starting to run thin. from your legs sincerely, you're immensely thankful for the random bench under it cause you're sure they would have been quaking from the amount of time you spent waiting.
but you do like the weather, cold weather is rare to see when the sunny days reign over many.
you should have brought a jacket or something.
"child of man?"
you blink when malleus tilts his head at you, a thin smile playing upon his lips. his shoulders seem to ease up at the sight of you. your eyes fly above him, weirdly enough it's like there's some invisible force protecting malleus from the weather so he's completely dry.
albeit weakly, you still make an effort to give him a half hearted wave. 
of which he notes.
malleus makes his way over to you, and your beloved bench you had started acquainting yourself with. "may I?" he gestures beside you, and you take that as an initiative to move over.
he takes a seat next to you right after.
"how are you faring?" his eyes crinkle, he stares deeply into you. 
you chuckle. "well I'm stuck here for a while I guess. I already miss my bed,"
the man beside you raises his brow before lightly raising his shoulder, leaning towards you a little for emphasis but you're sure that's just another excuse to take up more of your space.
you get what he's implying in a second. "oh no, no," you shake your head. that would be… embarrassing. 
but your yawn betrays you, and malleus easily coaxes you into using his shoulder. with or without your will, you can't even remember what happened until you blearily open your eyes, and realize the rain has passed by.
when you wake up you feel like you've had the best sleep in your life. but you're sure you would have frozen to death by now.
your hands feel the fabric between your fingers, previously taken over your shoulders. ah.
… as well as a pair of eyes staining into your existence.
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wc. 1.5k
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ftmtftm · 8 months
Text
This isn't something I have fully articulated thoughts on yet but honestly? I really do think that transandrophobia and the way people who talk about their experiences with it are isolated is, in part, why transmedicalism existed (exists still? I'm very detached from that discourse now) as a primarily trans man/trans masc dominated ideology.
I'm going to share my own experience and I can only speak for myself here, but when I was a really isolated late teen/early 20-something dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma re: my assault (that happened as a result of me coming out as trans to an ex), some immediate family's reaction to my transition being "well why can't you just be a masculine woman", and frustration about not being able to medically transition yet combined with the mid-2010's pressure to be a non-threatening feminine soft boy, I got sucked into transmedicalism.
I do want to be upfront and recognize a lot of my feelings at the time were a trauma response and projection. I recognize this now but I had no resources to recognize that then. I just want to make it clear from the start that I know my own thinking was flawed, that's why I'm reflecting on it openly so others can potentially recognize something that resonates here within themselves and grow.
Getting back into it though- I felt really triggered all the time in general trans spaces because of that 2010's culture. I felt pressured to be feminine or a woman in trans spaces online, just like I did around my ex or at home. I didn't want to undercut my masculinity or manhood for other people's comfort, especially not for other trans people who I felt should've understood. In contrast to this though, transmedicalist spaces and the trans men within them DID actually offer the support I was asking for. I was actually given space to talk about my assault and the pressures I was experiencing with a bunch of other trans men/trans mascs who understood it for the first time, ever really.
The idea of "there is a medical explanation for gender dysphoria that can be treated with medical transition" was also really comforting to my traumatized mind that kept thinking "if I'm open about my assault someone is going to accuse me of just being traumatized and not actually trans, if medicine is on my side I can prove them wrong" Which - let me be clear again - was a very traumatized way of thinking. I do not think that way anymore thanks to therapy and cultivating a healthier relationship with my body and gender and transness. I was not the only trans man with a history of assault that felt this way in the transmed community at the time though.
And I'm not justifying any of this ideologically right? Like. Transmedicalism is fundamentally flawed and incorrect in many of its ideas about sex, gender, and gender identity. Many people who believe in transmed ideology spout some absolutely horrible, transphobic bullshit on the regular and often align their ideology with conservatism and TERFs. I'm not here to defend transmedicalism.
What I am saying is this: It makes sense that a group of ostracized individuals who felt like they had no space to express their traumas would cling onto transmedicalism because it was the only ideological community giving them space to talk about it. Hate movements thrive on preying upon those kinds of vulnerable, traumatized people.
I'm just thinking about a lot of the friends I met via transmedicalism back then and now they're all either TERFs with a lot of repressed trauma and internalized transphobia that I've since cut off completely or they had a similar realization to myself and discovered their attachment to transmedicalism was rooted in trauma and a desire for trans masc community, addressed it, and now they live much healthier, happier lives.
I'm losing steam fast thinking about all of this because recounting trauma takes a physical toll on one's body BUT tl;dr I really do think if we had healthier spaces to address trans male/trans masculine traumas within the wider trans community via conversations about transandrophobia back 5+ years ago we wouldn't fully be here now wrt: how large transmedicalism became as a movement. I genuinely think I wouldn't have been sucked into that space if there had been more resources and space to talk about the experiences I was having, all of which are things people naming transandrophobia are trying to address in healthy manners.
I think healthy, open, conversations about transandrophobia in wider community spaces can do so much good to protect people who were in vulnerable positions like I was and can absolutely potentially prevent more people from getting sucked into the false support offered by hate movements within our own community.
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chrollohearttags · 2 months
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bestie i love your version of eren sm!!!! could you give like a deep dive on his personality and his hobbies? i'm so obsessed and i can't get enough, i've been listening to the ej core playlist on repeat! tysm for writing him so well he's such a comfort
thank you sm bestie!!! I can’t believe somebody else actually listens to it besides me!! But of course I can 🥹 I’ve missed him so bad.
so I’ve talked about this forever ago but eren was always a very introverted person. Even as a kid, he stayed to himself and he just struggled with interacting with people. But mainly because he just loved music over everything else so he shut out the rest of the world. He had Mikasa and Armin for a little while but they were also the kids of famous billionaires so they moved around and were gone once he became a teenager. Eren used to despise small talk and had lowkey terrible communication skills (still love him though! ��). But he’s honestly just not used to having people around him that he could truly relate to. Another thing about him, even though he left home really young, he is a mama’s boy! He and miss Carla are best friends and he don’t play about her. She has songs with voicemails of her hyping him up on it. She comes to his shows and y’all know Mrs. Jaeger is a baddie so she gets mistaken for his sister or his fans will try to get with her lmao!! His dad on the other hand? Not so much and it’s been hard for him to mend their relationship (for reasons coming in the later chapters). It’s affected a lot of his adult life but he doesn’t like to talk about it much. Which made him really guarded. He started putting all his feelings into his art to help not only himself but others heal. So many fans hear his music and says it’s helped them through the hardest times. To his core though, Eren is truly a sweetheart. Behind his black clothes and nail polish, all the jewelry and emo look, he’s so nice and is also very sensitive. It may take him a while to open up (and trust, he will damn near push you away) but he is such a loverboy to his core. He’s a natural protector and will go to the end of the earth for the ones he adores. Someone said that (y/n) truly healed his inner child and I agree 😭
As far as his hobbies, outside of music of course..he LOVESSS cars! Specifically older muscle cars. He goes to car shows and races all the time. Fans will spot him and ask him for autographs, whole time he’s geeking out over the different motors and vehicle types. He tinkers with old ones and tries to fix them too. He also has a CRAZY collection of new and vintage that’s worth millions. He loves drawing and has actually drawn a lot of the tattoos he has. Like his dragon piece, one he designed for (y/n) and a couple others. He’s an all around creative and he has to be doing something all the time. He’s also big into video games and he and his friends stream on Twitch.
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callofdudes · 1 year
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I would love to see a prompt of a Childhood friend Reader reuniting with Alejandro, Soap, Ghost, and König. The Reader recognized them before the boys recognized the Reader. So, the Reader, nervous as all heck, tries to start conversation a little bit before they hit them with “You know…you remind me of a friend I had” and would drop details only they would know, until the boys recognize the reader. That’s when the reader smiles and says “it’s been a while, huh?” And they all hug and have a good time properly catching up.
(I’m a sucker for happy endings you see)
Aww 🥰 this is cute. Thank you for stopping by! These might be kind of long. (Also I'm sorry for this taking so long I go so stuck on König and Alejandro 🥲)
Reconnecting with the boys.
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Ghost:
You and Ghost had signed up together. That's always how it was. You'd met Ghost in elementary and decided you were going to befriend the quiet kid. When the two of you got older Simon would talk about joining the military to get away from his family, and you wholeheartedly jumped in with him. You unfortunately retired due to personal reasons before you could be enlisted as a Captain. You had settled down in Britain running a small coffee shop with your friend.
The quiet life was nothing like the battlefield and you honestly missed the adrenaline you used to get from the adventures. You would smile fondly when you remembered the days. Captain Price, Ghost, all of them. You'd met Captain Price but were never recruited into 141.
And after a couple years Simon was no longer able to send messages to you with his recruit to 141 and his busy schedule as a Lieutenant. You had always assumed he either died or was busy considering Simon Riley was considered dead. But it wasn't the most obscure thing for people in the military to bury their names under secrets and cold dirt. Simon had always been known as a ghost. Ironically. Someone who was in an out and if you saw him, you'd be dead. You chuckled. What a thought. You missed him and your little adventures.
It was a quiet day in the shop when your world was flipped again and yet another twist was added to your life. You were wiping down the counters during the settled time when the door chimed and three voices cut through the quiet.
"I still can't believe such a brute likes tea."
"Shut it Johnny." A deep Manchester accent scolded the much more youthful sounding voice. You looked up and frowned when you saw the assorted lot. They were all muscular under their clothing. One with short hair and a leather jacket, the other with a frow-hawk of sorts and a military vest. And between them.
You didn't know why you were nervous but you felt yourself gulp. He was tall. Tall and big. He wore a hoodie and a balaclava with the jaw of a skull painted on it over his face. Accompanied by black paint smeared across his tired eyes.
Now. Ghost wasn't someone you accidentally mistook for someone else. It was either Ghost or it wasn't, but you weren't sure that this was Ghost. You hadn't seen him in years and if this was him he'd gotten taller. Wider. Stronger. He looked a lot more tired than before but the fact he was accompanied by two other men must have meant something. Especially to be getting tea with them.
You stilled your racing heart and tried not to jump to conclusions. This very well could not be Ghost.
You smiled kindly and tossed the wet cloth in your hand somewhere out of sight. "Hello. What can I get you boys today?"
The one with the military vest chimed in first with a big smirk. "Got an bourbon?" The man in the middle immediately jabbed him in the side with his elbow. The man frowned and huffed. "Fine. Got any whiskey?" He asked with a keen Scottish accent.
You looked up at the menu above you and nodded. "I'm sure I can work that out."
"And you two?"
The opposite man shrugged. "I'll get whatever you do, Ghost."
Your eyes widened. You looked back up at the man who held his jaw high and looked down at you almost judging. If the dead stare didn't tell you enough already. The Brit didn't respond for a minute and then finally said. "Two Earl grey's." You nodded quickly and could feel your heart race. "Take a seat anywhere you'd like."
Once you'd sorted their drinks you came back to find them sitting at a table near the back of the shop. Play it cool. You reminded yourself. You approached them with a smile and placed the tray down and handed out drinks. And then you paused. "You lot wouldn't happen to be part of the military?" That's a really odd sounding question there Y/N you scolded yourself. "I just noticed your jacket. It's military, I was curious."
He man wearing said jacket lit up. "Oh yeah. We all work down there. Lt. Here didn't want to come back to Scotland with me so I came with him." You chuckled. You looked over at Ghost who was contemplating over the tea. He'd have to take his mask off to drink if most likely. You noticed how his eyes briefly wandered over to you. "Im- I'm sorry. This might come off as a weird question but- do I know you?"
Ghost looked up. "Pardon? I'm certain you don't know me."
Well. Now or never.
"Simon Riley? You applied to the military four years out of high school?" Your voice raised an octave in uncertainty. He just stared at you. He looked over at his group as if this was some sick joke so you tried again. "I'm sorry. There was just a guy I signed up with who looked a lot like you do. We were friends for the longest time. He's was the quiet kid who had this weird obsession with guns and scared all our teachers. Although, he was always keen on taking himself off government records so I guess he just doesn't like to be noticed. Apologies-"
Ghost grabbed your wrist. He looked up into your eyes and squinted for a hard second before seeming to form a story in his head and his eyes softened. "Y/N?" You smiled so wide. "Been a while huh sergeant."
"That's lieutenant now soldier."
You smiled. "I'm not serving anymore. No need for formalities. Co-workers?" You motioned to the two other men.
He nodded. "Y/N. This is Kyle "Gaz" Garrick and John "Soap" MacTavish."
"Soap?" You chuckled and shook their hands. "Long story." Soap blushed.
You looked back at Simon and nodded. "I've missed you. We should talk." Ghost scooted over before you could continue and opened the seat for you. So you sat down and got comfy. "Lieutenant huh?" Soap barged in and nodded. "Oh you should have seen him! Tell them about Las Almas! Or that bomb explosion-"
"that'll do!" Ghost barked.
"Sounds like you're loaded with stories." Ghost nodded. He turned back to his colleagues and motioned to you. "Now, this is the sergeant who disarmed two bombs in thirty seconds, made a lieutenant shit his pants in simulated interrogation training and and called a Captain a "dim witted slug" all before being promoted."
"Slug? Is that even an insult?" Kyle chuckled. "It is now. I coined it." You replied proudly.
"So, I hope you two haven't been giving him much trouble?" The two sergeant's looked at each other, then to Ghost who sighed. "This one is energetic and leaves me alone. And that one is even more energetic and refuses to leave me alone."
You chuckled. It didn't feel misplaced. It didn't feel awkward. It was just like always. As if Simon was jumping off a HALO with his scuffed up uniform and a grouchy look. His much younger face covered in a simple balaclava. The way his eyes would soften with relief when he saw you. He'd pull you into his arms and hug you in relief. It was as if time hadn't changed.
His eyes were dimmer with war but they still reminded you of the sleep deprived zombie you'd enjoyed.
"So, I see you've gotten into mask making." You commented when Soap showed you a photo of the boys after a retrieval mission in the rocky mountains. Ghost wore a balaclava with a skull sown to the front. It did look menacing, you had to admit. Ghost rolled his eyes and rolled up his mask to sip his tea.
After a couple minutes of talking the bell to the shop jingled and called you back to work. You stood and nodded to Ghost. "We should catch up some time while you're in town." Ghost opened his mouth to speak when you smacked him softly on the shoulder with your tray. "Mr. Military machinery." And you walked away.
"I hate you Y/N!"
"I hate you too Simon!"
Ghost looked back at his tea and smiled.
On the way out Ghost motioned the two men away to the car. Once the door to the shop closed Simon came to the desk you were sitting at and looked down at you. "Y/N." You looked up and smiled. "Hey! Need something?" He opened his arms hesitantly and once you caught on you didn't hesitate to jump into his arms.
"I missed you Simon."
He nuzzled into your neck and felt his insides relax. Memories and triggers all coming back to him. He tightened his arms and pulled you off your feet. "I'm glad to see you again." You felt tears in your eyes when he placed you back down and you laughed. "Go on. You're friends need you. If you still have the same number I'll call you tomorrow?" He nodded and hesitantly turned to the door. "Y/N?" You hummed when he called you. "You know. Before you left. I never did tell you... I was recruited to the 141."
You smiled. "I know you were. There was no doubt they would want you."
He scoffed. "Sure disappointing you weren't there with me."
"You don't need me taking up your spotlight."
He chuckled. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
You nodded. And as he left the shop you couldn't help but wave dramatically as he passed.
"bye Lieutenant!"
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Soap:
"Drink! DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!" You're entire team screamed in excitement as you chugged down your seventh shot of bourbon.
The fire buzzed in the back of your throat and your head was barely hanging on before shutting down. You placed the cup on the counter and tried to hold in a burp unsuccessfully.
Your team cheered as you placed down your name on their made-up tally cards. You'd beaten your firearms pyrotechnic by two drinks.
The second you looked up your brain was all over the place. Across the table another group of men watched your bumbling mess oddly. The one in the middle, shrouded on darkness and black clothing looked pissed from what you could tell. But the smaller one sitting next to him was hyped to watch the show.
You ran your fingers through your hair and went to order another drink. "Can I get a-aaah..? Uuuh." You fell sideways off your chair and the rest of your drunken group laughed loudly. You looked up dizzily. The floor was now the ceiling and everything was moving.
"Oh gosh. Simon come help." A figure rushed over to you and blocked the light that flooded your irises. "Hey, you ok?"
"Fuckin' hell." Another figure came over and they grabbed your arms. "I think I smell colors..." You whispered. "Yeah, I do that sometimes too. Let's get you into a comfier chair." You groaned as they dragged you toward the lower level of the bar and sat you down in one of the lounge chairs. The shorter man crouched in front of you and rubbed your thigh comfortingly. "Are you ok? Nauseous? Can I get you some water?"
Your spinning head managed to slow down for a moment and you gazed into his eyes. Eyes doused in a comforting familiarity. You smiled and leaned your head sideways. " You remind- mmmme of s'mone." You slurred. The man smiled. "Oh?"
"Yeah. He had a weird hairdo like yours all through- all through middle school." You chuckled drunkenly and flicked your fingers through his hair before he could stop you.
"Ghost. Can you get some water?" The other man huffed but retreated quickly. "You'll feel much better in the morning. I promise."
You kept your eyes on him and suddenly you felt upset. When you saw his face your mind muddled distinct features with changes to form an old friend. You sniffled. "I miss John." You whispered.
The man frowned but tried to reassure you, his hand still rubbing your thigh. "It'll be ok. Do you have a place to stay with your friends?" He looked back over at your group who where still messing around with each other.
He attempted to stand to take the water Ghost returned with but you managed to grab his wrist. "Don't leave John. Not again. I can't lose you again." This John your mind had come up with looked back at you and something seemed to start clicking away in his brain. He held your sweaty hand and handed you the glass off water that you stupidly mistook for another shot of bourbon. Once you'd downed it you sighed. "Still have that stupid little binder? The red one?"
John's eyes shot open wide. "How. How do you know that?" You shrugged and leaned your head back. "Is jusss- I dunno..." And you were out.
When you woke up in the morning your head was throbbing. You sighed angrily. Why had you done that? You rolled over and grabbed the blankets up in your arms.
"You awake?" A man's voice asked.
You shot up in bed so fast and looked across the room as a man came out with a toothbrush in hand. You screamed and rolled, falling out of bed and onto the floor with a thud.
"Oh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm the guy from the bar. I don't know if you remember me." You rubbed your head and looked up. When you looked around you realized you were in a hotel. "You're friends were staying late and I didn't think a bar was the best place to be passed out." You saw a small formation of blankets on the floor by the bathroom and realized he'd probably slept there that night.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to inconvenience you. Ah- Thank you." He smiled and chuckled. "ain't mah foremaist runaround."
Your head perked up at the suddenly thick Scottish. You stood on your feet and relaxed back against the bed. You looked up at him and the previous nights hazy connection mingled it's way into your brain. "I-I'm sorry." You said once you realized you were staring. You rubbed your head and scrunched your eyes to try and clear the headache. "You just remind me of someone I used to know."
"It's alright. John MacTavish." He replied and held out his hand.
You felt the air leave your lungs. John must have seen your reaction and your jaw dropped. "You are him." You whispered. "You probably wouldn't remember me. I was the whiny kid in middle school? I always looked over your shoulder and would weirdly compliment your doodles-"
John seemed to catch on and his eyes examined you with a new bout of familiarity. "No way- you're not-" You nodded.
"Y/N?" You covered your mouth to hide your excited scream but you nodded happily.
"You put whiskey in Mrs. V's oatmeal!"
"Yeah!" You jumped up and started to laugh. "Oh my gosh! Hi!" He smiled so wide. "It's been so long!" He opened his arms and then hesitated. "Oh, sorry. I don't know if you're comfortable with that." You rushed him and wrapped your arms tightly around him. He smelled of smoke and dirt. Something so unfamiliar and yet so close to home.
"You ugly cried when I left for training."
"Yeah." You smiled into his shoulder. "I told you not to go because you'd get punted on your arse in minutes."
When you pulled away you looked over his face. "Stupid haircut, eyes like a puppy, your cheeks are still kinda plump." You chuckled. "Sorry. This is new though." You touched the scar on his chin but he brushed it off. "It's been a while huh?" He nodded. "You're all grown up."
"Oh shut it."
"Oh! Here. I'll let you get changed. I bought some clothes from the store downstairs so you could get out of those for the day. I'm not sure where you live so uhh. I'll buy you breakfast and we can catch up?" He handed you a bag and backed away to give you space. "Oh absolutely." He smiled brightly.
"Johnny?" He perked up at the nickname and turned. "Thank you."
"Get changed. I'll meet you outside and I can introduce you to my team. And then you can tell me about what you e been up to all this time."
"I'd like that. Thank you."
When you got out of the shower and changed you met Johnny outside and the two of you talked all the way to the cafeteria. It was as if no time had passed at all. Of course that wasn't true. You told him about your new job and what a mess you were for the first two years he was enlisted because you couldn't contact him. He told you about his position as a sergeant and his amazing team.
When you got down there Johnny waved over to a group of men. A casually clothed darker skinned man, a beefer man with a hat and a very tall guy in a balaclava and bulky sweater. "Everyone. This is Y/N. My old friend. Y/N. This is Kyle, John Price and Si-" The last man gave him an look. "Lieutenant Ghost Riley." You smiled sheepishly. "Hi. I'm the drunkard you had to rescue from the bar."
Kyle moved over and patted his seat. "Sit you two." Johnny pulled you down and like a chatterbox he didn't miss a beat in filling you in on everything he'd been up to the past few years. And the two of you never looked back after you were reunited. And his new friends are pretty cool. You fit right in.
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König:
You rolled onto your back and huffed loudly. Blood dripped from your lips and gushed from your arm where you'd been shot. Your hands quivered when you were thrown by into the ground in shock. You stared wide eyes up at the sky as blood rushed to your ears.
"Cobra this is Price! Confirm your location! Five enemy targets converging on your route. Can you confirm your location?"
You breathed in, choking on air and forcing up more blood. Your head was pounding. Everything seemed to fade into the background as you stared at the sky.
"Cobra, ally troops are headed to your last known location."
You were barely brought back by the sound of Price's voice. You grabbed your radio and breathed out heavily. "Compromi-" You coughed and your hand fell away weakly.
There was sudden gunfire around you. Four unidentified shadows mingled around you in a haze. One behind your head, the other three from beyond your feet. Blood splattered and two enemies fell to the ground as the larger shadow barrelled through them. A fifth enemy approached and went down as easily.
You heaved again. The figure moved back to your side and kneeled by your torso. "You're ok. I'm here. I'm going to get you out ok?" You groaned. It was König right?? You had a mission briefing with him. Although he wasn't from 141, it was for recruitment.
"Yes. I'm König. Good, just stay awake for me alright?" You looked back up at the sky as he searched for bandages, cursing when he had none. He had one option left.
He pulled off his helmet and tore the cloak from off his face. He pulled the fabric out and wrapped it tightly around you'd arm. Blood soaked through it but he barely cared and lured your gaze back to him.
"I'm going to lift you now alright? You'll be perfectly alright." You looked into his soft brown eyes and his messy brown locks. Stubble messily shaped his scarred chin and his lips were curved down with worry.
You smiled when he pulled you up. A face you recognized instantly. You muttered his name softly and leaned into him. "Can we go home??"
"You're losing blood. I'll get you back to the helicopter and then we can go to base."
"König I want to go home.." You muttered. You felt so tired. Utterly tired and defeated. Your body was caked in dirt and his face was all you could focus on. "You're mama still make..." You groaned. "Cookies. I want cookies."
He gulped and his brow shifted worriedly. "I'll bring you to Ghost. He'll know what to do!"
"Don't go..." You whispered. You managed to curl your shaky fingers around his chest strap and looked up at him with tears.
"I'm scared König..."
His heart broke when you looked at him like that. He clung to you tighter and tried to run faster. Any way he could clear the field of debris quicker he would try.
You closed your eyes and settled your head on his chest...
You woke up with a start. Your body jolted into fight mode as soon as memories were surging through your brain. A large hand grabbed your wrist and gently brought it back to your bedside. "You were shot. Please take it easy."
That voice. Him. His face.
You whipped your head sideways to see König sitting in the chair by the bed. "You asked me not to leave. So I didn't."
His eyes were kinder than they were before in the briefing. You closed your hand around his and laid back against the bed. König continued to watch you. Not creepily, but moreso basking in the fact that you were alive and well. It took more than a shot to the arm to take you down.
König breathed in softly after a moment and suddenly spoke. "You mentioned something to me on the field. Do you remember what it was?"
You looked up at him, then back on the events. "No. I don't really remember anything. I remember your face, and how you used your face covering to secure my wound. It must have been adrenaline."
König seemed to accept the answer and turned to his phone to take his attention. And then the memory suddenly hit you like a train. His face. His soft eyes. The way his voice softened in your weakened state.
"Cookies... yeah."
König looked up. "That's what I'd thought you'd said. But I wasn't sure. Odd thing to say on the field though."
You hummed. "I just... When I saw your face, you reminded me of someone I used to know. Although he was only little. We were fifteen when he moved away. When I last talked to his parents they said he'd gone off to train in the military and they hadn't heard from him..." You looked back up and scoffed. "They always thought he'd died... When I joined and I never saw him again, I believed it too..."
König slumped. "I'm so sorry."
You hummed. "It's ok. I remember he used to have this tree house in his backyard. His mom would get mad because we'd go crawling through her garden playing army men together." You chuckled. "But he moved away and I never saw him again..."
König stared at you. And then he straightened up. "If I told you something, do you think you'd believe me?"
"Shoot."
"I had a tree house in my backyard- i'm- I'm him." He lit up as if he couldn't believe he'd said it. "Y/N! The name, it felt so close and yet-" You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "You're definitely him. Always muttering like a nervous wreck."
"Can ... Can I look under the mask or is that a no deal?"
König looked around briefly before nodded hesitantly. He pulled it up over his helmet and you grinned. His messy locks of hair and soft eyes.
"And here I thought you were dead." You whispered, fresh tears in your eyes. You leaned over in your bed and despite the pain you pressed your head into his neck and wrapped your arms around him.
He shuddered and hugged you back. "I'm sorry." He curled his fingers into fists and sniffled. "I should have tried to contact you but the last couple years I've just..."
He breathed in deeply and relaxed in your arms.
"It's been a while huh?" You sighed. "I'm glad you're ok."
König pulled away and nodded. "Likewise. I'm glad you're alive." He checked your arm again to be sure and nodded. "So... When you're out of here, you want to grab some food??"
"I mean- only if you want it! I wasn't implying that-"
You nodded. "Yes, König, I'd like that very much."
"Alright... Good. That's good. You get all the rest you need ok? I'll be right here when you wake up."
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Alejandro Vargas:
Undercover missions. You just loved them. Getting go play around and slip under the noses of evil corporations. It was exhilarating and fun.
There had been word going around your camp that drug dealers in Mexico were going to attend an up coming party to try and make a pretty big exchange under everybody's noses. This party was big and anyone was invited if you were above a certain stature.
Naturally your field team had been flown to Mexico and you were to meet Rodolfo Parra and Alejandro Vargas. It was a thrill and you couldn't sit still the whole time.
When you got there the place was a lot quieter than you'd expected. Two men stood outside a military truck and waved to you all when your team of four approached. "Welcome friends." The shorter one smiled. The taller and slightly beefier man smiled at you, it was charming. "Welcome to Mexico my friends. I hope you enjoy your stay."
"I'm Alejandro Vargas and this my Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra." You climbed into the backseat and smiled back at Alejandro as you drove.
When you reached a small safehouse Alejandro allowed you all out and ushered you inside. You all gathered around a table and started to talk.
"While we'd like to talk to you longer, introductions can wait. We've advised Captain Price of our needs which is why you are here, no doubt you know that."
"The party is tonight. We've read your reports and we've decided I will be stationed outside the party's central square with two men while Alejandro and Y/N go undercover inside the party. Can you do that?" Rodolfo asked. It seemed simple enough. Why wouldn't you be able to do it?
Everyone was pretty used to being rushed so while they talked over intricate details Alejandro insisted on sweeping you away to pick outfits for the evening. It was a bit embarrassing, the way he was so easy around you. He smiled widely after a joke or would say something in Spanish that made him laugh.
"How about this? You like green?"
You chuckled. "Will it make me stand out?"
"we all stand out amigo. It's what we're supposed to do."
You nodded. "Yeah. I just... I like being in the background. You know, I went to a school dance in seventh grade?" He nodded and started shifting back through the clothes. "And I didn't have the nicest outfit, but the person I was going with was one of the more popular kids and decided last minute I wasn't worth it."
"Oh." Alejandro paused. "Amigo I'm sorry. That is awful pressure for such a small child. No doubt having other pressures as well."
"It's ok. It happened a while back. And I remember I was sitting over by the punch when a kid- hadn't really talked to him before. But he came over, smiled really wide," you chuckled. "And he asked me why I was alone. When I told him he grabbed me by the arm and we just hung out. From then on he was my best friend- and his other buddy. I forget his name but there was a shorter kid with messy hair. He was an awkward one though. It was cute to watch." You chuckled.
Alejandro had completely paused in finding clothes and was just watching you. "Hmm. I had a similar experience in my childhood. Although the one I rescued was pouting like a wet dog and I couldn't allow that."
He pulled an outfit off the rack and held it up to you. "Not to flashy?" You took it and nodded. "You'd look good in black." You tossed the suit you'd found his way and headed for a change room. The memory had sparked something in you. His constant smile gave you a loving reassurance that a similar one also did. But if couldn't be Alejandro Alejandro. That was near impossible. You'd moved away when you were nineteen and despite efforts, after three years Alejandro was no longer constantly replying to your texts so you assumed he no longer hand an interest. You couldn't remember what his friends name was though...
"Coming amigo?"
"Huh- oh yes! Sorry!" You unlocked the stall door and came out with the outfit on. Alejandro smiled again. "You look good. Subtle fits you."
When you returned to the group they were all ready with their plan and quickly filled the two of you in on profiles and what you were needed to do.
"Sounds easy." Alejandro smiled again.
When the event arrived the two of you were whisked away in an undercover vehicle to the event. You could feel nerves tightening in your body and the excitement quickly turn to fear. Alejandro took your hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry. It's just a bit of dancing. Don't get caught and you'll be fine."
You walked inside the place and we're overwhelmed with music, lights, and people. Alejandro pulled you close and made his way through the crowd. "Don't get lost." He advised.
You secured your earpiece and successfully got back to Rodolfo who gave you two the go ahead. A server approached you and offered out a platter of seafood on it. "No thank you amigo." Alejandro nodded back to you. "I'm allergic. Don't tell." He chuckled and walked over to the drinks to act casual. He was surprisingly good at it. But that made you wonder.
"Or are you just scared of them? Ever seen a shrimp up close. Nasty looking buggers." Alejandro shivered. He pushed away the thought quickly. "Yeah. After that day we had to look at all those animals up close he was never the same. Never touched a piece of seafood again."
Alejandro pondered your statement carefully before replying. "And then You dressed up as one on Halloween just for the sake of fucking with me?" You chuckled.
"Y/N." He rolled your name happily. Giddy to get to say it again. "Alejandro Vargas. I always thought you'd dropped off the face of the earth."
"I tried to reply, but work is stressful, I did not want to worry you by telling you."
"Been a long time huh. And you still got that damn smile." He placed down his drink as voices came over your comm. Lines.
"Rodolfo missed you." He continued.
"Rodolfo- Rodolfo! Of course that's Rodolfo! He's still got that walk and the little lip pout! How did I miss that?"
"I don't know. He's always been like that. Worried about where you were all the time, sweet thing. Always wanted me to check on you to make sure you were ok. And then we signed up and now he's a shining star. Still anxious, but no longer a cat in water."
You chuckled.
"So. When did you join?" He asked, eager to catch up.
"Five or so years ago. I decided it's what I wanted to do. College wasn't for me and my normal job just didn't feel right. This is right."
"Only real thrill out there. You just be careful when you go home alright?"
"Of course. I've always been careful-"
"Not true. Eighth grade you backflipped off the monkey bars."
"I was only in a neck brace for four months."
"five."
"Five months."
"I had to do your homework because you couldn't look down at the paper. And no matter what we were doing Rodolfo made sure you took your pills on the hour every day."
Two men walked toward you, interested in getting food. Alejandro pulled you in and hugged you tight. He was still wearing that cologne he had when he was seventeen and everybody thought he was cool. You smiled at the memory and hugged him back, grateful to see the bastard again.
A commotion started up across the room and Alejandro smirked. "Well, shall we catch up later?" He offered you his hand and grabbed his gun from his pocket. "You're weird. It's reassuring."
And you went on your merry way. (And then you caught up with Rodolfo after too!)
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squid-god-supreme · 1 month
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Task force t4t- Simon Ghost Riley
Ok so this started because of the stupid t4t pun lmao since it looks like 141 hehehe giggling and kicking my legs thinking of this <3 anyway this is t4t ghost hcs so both ghost and reader are ftm trans men! I don't care if fem aligned people read or interact but please remember that this isn't for you this is for trans men. I'd also like to say I've never read the comics so my knowledge on that is a little limited (if someone who has read the comics wants to educate me I have questions!)
Tw: tooth rotting fluff, NSFW undercut, masc! Reader, ftm ghost and reader, mentions and descriptions of dysphoria/trama, very self indulgent, allusions to ghosts backstory, period talk, pre bottom surgery reader and Simon.
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Hnggggg where do I even start
“Task force t4t”- Simons favorite joke (he's not funny)
There are a few ways y'all could meet honestly
My favorite two being these :
1) You meet at a pub, Johnny is bragging and playfully asking Simon why he doesn't get any
Simon gives him the look™ and soap makes it his mission to get his best bud a date- or at least some ass
So Johnny scans the bar and is pointing out various people, all of which Simon is… reluctant to Comment on
He's not had a good experience with life in general, much less with relationships
But then Johnny has to go and point to you, And Simon stares.
You're a bloody handsome man, you look nervous, like you were dragged out here to this pub. You seem to like layers, black long sleeves with a worn out slipknot T-shirt over top, gloves tucked into your pocket and nails painted black. black eyeliner and the feint growth of a thin patchy mustache and chin stubble.
You've got a few pins, most he thinks are band pins, but one catches his eyes a little blue pink and white flag
He turns around on the bar stool and mutters while he takes a swig of his Bourbon.
He can't stop thinking about you for the next few days, hell he goes on a mission and is out drinking after a week.
Then he sees you again, dressed similar to the first night he saw you.
Your sitting on a bar stool chatting with your friends, they walk off to get a booth while you call over the bartender and order.
He can believe he's really gonna shoot his shot. Johnny would be laughing his stupid Scottish head off.
Your startled when this huge man sits next to you, you aren't nessesarily small by any means but it's not hard to be smaller then Simon when he's 6’4 and beefed up.
He doesn't look at you, eyes dead forward and half glazed over while he fumbles in his head to think of something to say.
He doesn't wanna scare you off, hard to do when the skull balaclava and hood aren't doing him Any good.
“I like your pin mate” he says, voice deep and gruff. Really all he could muster without makeing a fool out of himself. Your eyes scan him, gears in your head turning in realisation. “Thanks- cool mask ya got on there” silence settles but it's not as awkward as Simon would think. “I don't suppose your uh-” you dance around the subject, terrified of being wrong, of offending this bear of a man who could absolutely beat you bloddy. Simon laughs “that's right lovie” his voice is warm like a campfire with a tone like honey. Makes you melt. “‘spose you'd let me Buy you a drink?” You ask turning to face him. “only if I can buy you one too” you chuckle an call the bar tender over, ordering something fruity but not too sweet, he gets Bourbon. “Oh ho a good ‘ole boy are ya?” He chuckles “the best”
Your friends come back over and are so shocked to see you absolutely smitten with this man.
Eventually the night passes with you and Simon chatting, eventually exchanging numbers and heading out.
Meeting number two! Is soap to the rescue tbh
You work at a little coffee shop, soap comes in and orders the same 4 drinks any time he's in. Only place near base (or in general) that has a blend of black tea Simon likes. Johnny is chatty at the counter while he waits, it's never bussy when he comes in- He talks about his friend Simon a lot,
Reminds you of a mother trying to talk up her son 💀
Eventually he suggests you go on a date with his buddy, and he suggests to Simon that he go on a date with the cute lad at the Coffey shop.
You try to tell him that it probably won't work out- asking if his mate would be ok with the hole you being trans thing and Johnny gets the biggest grin, patting your shoulder “aye thats the best part laddie! yer both in the same boat”
So you agree, and Simon agrees. Johnny is just happy his L.T is shooting his shot!
Anyway! regardless of how you meet Simon is nervous but a great boyfriend!
Trans! Simon who where's the mask when he's feeling Dysphoric whitch is often
He wakes up and doesn't see himself, the PTSD definitely isn't helping but some days the mask helps a lot
Always helps you through your dysphoria, holds you close and assures you that you're a real boy, reminds you that if you're asking “am I fakeing it?” You aren't.
He has the worst periods smh, horrible cramps, heavy flow and they always seem to last so long.
Has deadass threatened to throw a tampon at soap. Soap did NOT think that was funny
He always knows what pads/tampons to get, and once your cycles sync up he's done for, he is irritable and just wants to come home and cuddle you 😤
Rubs your back when cramps get too bad
Absolutely melts into a big puddle when you rub his shoulders when he's back home.
Has beaten up transphobes and will continue to do so<3 his favorite activity tbh
Works out at home and oh boy is it a ✨sight✨ his top surgery scars are pretty prominent. They come up under where his (now) peck is and they are a bit on the jaged side
Tossing around the idea of Simon who got either a cool jaged outline over his scars to highlight then, or got smth like barbed wire over them.
He's proud of his top surgery scars, they're the only scars that HE chose, that he wanted.
If you still bind he gets you a skull print binder (the dork)
Matching packers so you both feel less dysphoria!
Simon “nothing more romantic then helping your s/o take their T-shot” riley. He takes his every morning and if you're comfortable he helps you take yours, especially if you get freaked out by the needles
Simon is hairall over but complains that the Testosterone goes mostly to his ass
Que hilarious ass smack
✨trama bonding✨ Simon has crawled his way out of hell (almost literally) so it feels nice to know that he can confide in you and really have you understand this aspect of him. In a way it makes it easier to open up about the other things he's experienced
Simon “my dick is huge”/ “my dick is bigger than yours” riley
His idea of real romance is letting you shave down his hair before each deployment.
If you ever feel Dysphoric and want your hair GONE he shaves your head for you, and lest you shave his head so you match
His pronouns are he/him obviously but he also sometimes uses it/it's when he's feeling like it
Big star Wars nerd, builds legos but really likes miniatures in general. Will spend hours on making those 3 wooden puzzle things.
NSFW //
It takes a while for Simon to be comfortable with sex, he has a lot of issues to work through, and a lot of insecuritys
He doesn't like his body too much, especially not from the waist down, so he can't imagine you like it either
But once he realize that yes, you love his body, that he's safe, that your safe?
He's a horn dog good Lord he needs a cold shower
Loves giving you head- Simon riley is a munch send tweet
Can't decide between eating you out like he's trying to drink you or sucking your T-dick like his life depends on it- so he does both
Oh you accidentally had your binder on to long? Your breasts are tender? He can help- he swears he can make it better lovie just let him massage your boobs so they don't hurt!
Simon riley is a switch who prefers to top because he likes the control it let's him have and makes him more comfortable
He can be rough but most of the time he's just so sweet and intimate, I wouldn't nessesarily call it gentle, but its definitely not rough
Strap game is on point so have fun getting that back blown out (or blowing his back out)
Simon “sweetheart come here, I wanna play with your dick” riley, honestly he's obsessed with it. Playing with your pussy and T-dick while he watches the footie
Wet dream/fantasys about bottom surgery, he wants a dick, always has, but the thought of being able to really fuck you on HIS dick? Have you choke on his actual cock and not some silicon junk?
Someone muzzle him fr
Speaking of muzzling him- he can and WILL leave the WORST hickeys on you everywhere
Looks like you lost a fight to a gang of industrial vacuum cleaners, like dawg calm down nobody is trying to take you away-
Deep deep dark purple with a bit of reddish yellowing around it.
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And boy you are absolutely covered in them. Looks like you where on the receiving end of a paintball firing squad.
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i was catching up on your blog, and honestly your, or well, your PCs' opinion abt Sydney is so fascinating to me. when i first played the game for real (after trying to previous times and ending up in the forest being raped by wolves and kidnapped by Eden without knowing wtf was going on, and then my second try ending up in a rape cycle that ended in the asylum) i started pursuing Sydney for the first time, thinking that she'd be like every other goody-two-shoes uninteresting character that is usually a part of dating games, the stereotype that fails to interest me no matter what. then i found out i could corrupt her, and i decided to make her "fall from grace" together with my PC, and the more i interacted w her the more and more i fell in love w her character, to the point that my PC became as obsessed w her as she is with him
Sydney might honestly be my favorite LI, so to find someone who doesn't like them v much is quite the interesting experience lol. i think the part that most called my attention is the privilege part of their character that you brought up, and i think that stuck w me mostly bc i never truly saw Sydney's "privilege" like that. Sydney never gave me the impression that they were completely oblivious to everything and anything wrong that happens in the world just bc it doesn't affect them - quite the opposite, actually
Sydney isnt immune to the world they live in, not a single character in this game is (which is why i love it sm tbh). they might be extremely sheltered and protected as much as Sirris and the temple are able to make them, but when you pray w them in the temple and someone comes by to harass you she knows exactly what is happening and how to stop it. she's probably been harassed by monks and nuns as well, and unable to fight back without losing her grace. that's without even going into the Leighton punishment event, and how they react to it, which i think gives a v good view into how they cope w the world they live in depending on whether they are pure or corrupted and how that affects their interactions w PC...
ok im just rambling now, my point is, Sydney is a very interesting and complex character to me and seeing your interpretation of them was really interesting/insightful, and gave me some answers to things in your PCs' story that i used to question but always forgot to send an ask abt (such as their distaste for Sydney). thanks for reading my ramble, i love the things you're doing w your PCs and how you interpret their world <3
-smthishunting
Just in case you still don't understand the nature of the situation, the "privileged" part can be translated into "ENVY"
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Sydney has had good things growing up. PC has nothing of those, which I have mentioned. "Why can they be optimistic? Why can they believe in the good in people? Why their parent doesn't demand they rent every week? Why do they have parents but I and Robin don't? Why can't I and Robin have those things that they have?..."
It's bitter, but I firmly believe, just like a redeemed bully can never achieve true peace, a sheltered child growing up with a silver spoon inside their mouth can never understand poverty and desperation either. Something bad happens to them, but they have family and financial support to overcome it, that's why they can stay pure and stay good. Robin stays ignorant too, they essentially avoid the outside world completely and if PC doesn't step up to protect them, they're ruined. That's what happens with pureness and goodness if they bloom in mud, unprotected. That's what happens on a daily basis with the children of the orphanage.
That's why my PCs are Robin's protectors. I make them taste the bitterness when realizing some things even try as they might, they can never achieve, while Sydney has those things handed to them, lovingly and matter-of-factly, as easily as falling to sleep in a soft fluffy bed. To me, that's what makes them even more protective of their waifu/malewife and more determined to shelter Robin as much as possible. They strive to give Robin what Sydney's having, their childhood together sucks so yeah let's try hard for a better future :D
As for Sydney... Well, unless future updates give them some trauma, throw them into some real fuck up situation like what PC faced daily, or reveal that they had some beef with Harper in the past and had lifelong psychological trauma, I don't think I can give them more credit.
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bizarrelittlemew · 6 months
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Hello, I’ve been unable to watch the NYCC panel but I see everywhere that is was awful and weird?!?! What actually happened ? Could you make a little recap for people like me who didn’t get to see it? Thank you!
I'll try my best ✌️ this is just the impression I got though (and sorry this got long lmao)
it was awkward because they weren't allowed to talk about ofmd, which made the whole thing seem more and more ridiculous as it went on. in addition, they had to do a sort of game where they were asked questions like "who is the most likely to do [x]" and then write a name on a board and reveal it at the same time. this could've been fine for maybe 10 minutes but they had them do it for the whole hour.
the issues with this game were that 1) the questions were very "generic corporate ice breaker questions", 2) they spent a lot of time in silence writing down, and 3) when a question finally did lead to stories or conversation, it was quickly shut down in order to move on to the next boring question and writing in silence.
they could've asked them about non-struck work (Rhys even brought up the books he's written several times and it wasn't followed up on), they could've collected and vetted fan questions beforehand, they could've just let them talk idk, they could've found a more fun game or ditched the boards (one of my fav moments was Rhys saying something like "I have a mic, why do I have to write it down?" honestly this would've made it 25% less boring lmao).
adding to that, there were sound issues meaning that Con and Rhys couldn't hear what was going on a lot of the time. Rhys said it again and again and nothing was done about it.
you could just tell how frustrated they all were and what this panel could have been if not for the shitty studios refusing a fair deal for the actors. I think the cast did what they could, and there were some sweet and funny moments. but it was clear that Rhys was pissed about not being able to talk about what they all wanted to talk about (I felt bad for everyone but especially for him).
they did a whole "ha ha we were all in New Zealand at the same time what a coincidence" thing and Rhys said that (paraphrased) if only they could be paid fairly, they could create something great with all the talent in the room, going off on the studios for a bit. it was honestly a bit of a relief for someone to voice it (to me, it felt like someone had to say something lmao and he did).
in the end they got a question about fantasy worlds. Rhys said he already lived in a fantasy world in his head and it was nice, though this was one of the odder moments. Matt and Nathan basically agreed and said it was all very weird (in different words). Rhys then said fantasy worlds are important because the real world is shit right now and there's no denying it; that in fantasy worlds we can all love each other and use kindness; and it's important to keep creating and believing in them until the real world becomes like that too.
and then he said "goodnight" (= "fuck this shit I'm out"), got up, put on his sunglasses, and started beat-boxing and rapping saying "why can't we talk about the show". their time had run out anyway, he said it had certainly been an experience, that he couldn't hear much of what was going on, and they all thanked the audience and it ended ✌️
anyway this is just my take and I hope SAG-AFTRA get a fair deal soon so the cast can celebrate the show with us like they so clearly want to. I also hope Matthew Maher does more panels after this (it was his first I think!) despite it being such a weird experience because he was great to watch!! anyway they're all happily doing photo ops and autographs now I guess 🤸
(if you want to watch there is a way)
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llonelygoddess · 6 months
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How they react to...You being good with a sword
A/N: Not my best work but I'm open to feedback!
Characters: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Khal Drogo, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Jorah Mormont
TW: Horny characters, violence?
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Ned Stark: You'd both be out watching Robb, Jon, and Theon practicing with their swords in the court yard. Jon's kicking both of their asses and it's getting hard to watch so you excuse yourself from Ned's side. Walking down to the courtyard, you grab a sword and show them defensive and offensive positions. Ned almost objects as you begin but seeing his kids take your advice so seriously he smiles. If the boys can respect you as a teacher then so could he. Now, He didn't like the idea of you being in a situation where you have to use a sword but knowing you can wield one turns him on lol
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Margaery Tyrell: In the life you'd live with Margaery it would be best to keep your talent hidden. It was scandal enough to be courting someone that wasn't a man, but if said person also brandished a sword it would be the hottest gossip of the city. So you save your skills for real emergencies and the first time Margaery sees this she is beyond confused and a little scared. In private she'll thank you for saving her and ask how you learned such a thing.
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Sandor Clegane: This guy is the least phased. Like, he's definitely caught off guard by how skilled you are but not much surprises him anymore. He gives you tips every now and then but really believes in your capability. I like to think one of his favorite moments are after you both have had a good fight and you take turns taking care of each other. Wiping the wounds clean, covering them, and then taking a hot bath together ( or separate cause mans is BIG).
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Sansa Stark: It kinda depends on which era of Sansa we're talking about. Like if it's younger Sansa than she's probably a little frightened of you but would be dying to hear the stories of how you came to be so good. If it was older Sansa then she's highly impressed and requests for you to be apart of her personal guard. She likely will ask for you to teach her a few things so she can defend herself as well.
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Khal Drogo: Man is impressed. He values strength so seeing you with a weapon at all riles him up, but seeing you defend yourself from another Dothraki who spoke against you? He's immediately dragging your ass to bed, or he might just take you in front of everyone.
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Brienne of Tarth: <3 Big heart eyes<3 Finally! Someone who can keep up with her. This woman spent her whole life being told that anyone who wasn't a man couldn't possibly wield a sword properly, and after proving that wrong herself it's refreshing to see you also beating the stereotypes. She loves to train with you and teach you things as well as learn from you. After your first real battle together she'll do her best not to hover but you can tell she's stressed out about whether you were hurt or not. Of course she knows you can take care of yourself but she loves you and can't help but worry.
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Missandei: As an educated woman and former slave, Missandei never had time ( or the desire) to learn the ways of a sword. When she met you, you were training with Jorah and Grey Worm and she was impressed with how you could keep up with them. From then on, She's always enjoyed watching you train, your strength filling her with pride. She feels content knowing that you can defend yourself and her at any moment.
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Podrick: Honestly, he's relieved. I mean, don't get me wrong he'll defend you without a second thought ( it's very hot) but knowing that you can handle yourself in a fight takes the pressure off of him a little. He worries for you, the world you both live in will eat and spit people out and the thought of something happening to you haunts him. He may try to give you tips ( even if you're better than him lol), so just let him help the few ways he can.
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Jorah Mormont: You'd both probably meet while working for Daenerys so there's almost an expectation that you'd be good at defending yourself/her. In your first fight together you save him from a sword that nearly took his head off and after that day he begins to see you as more than just another guard.
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miserable-sarah · 10 months
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The Date
Pairings: Sam x Reader warnings: None Requested: Hello! Your fanfics are sensational and I get lost in your stories, especially Sam's. I would like to ask for a story inspired by dandelions song between Sam Winchester x reader, very cute and romantic.
~
You look at yourself in the mirror for the 10th time, you fix your dress, you fluff your hair, you stand there and practice your smile. You don't like the way your hair looks, you think your make up could look better. You sigh and flop on the bed.
"You look fine!" Cas whines. You have him 'trapped' in your room so he can tell you if you need to change anything but he's getting annoyed because you don't believe him anyway.
"Sam told me to dress nice." You tell Cas, you sigh again getting off the bed. Cas grabs your hands.
"Y/n, you look perfect. I promise."
"Thanks Cas." You smile at him "You can leave if you want." You giggle. Cas leaves the room, you look at yourself again and take a deep breath. You're not sure what Sam has planned your dates are usually casual sometimes when it's an important date they're a little fancier. You walk downstairs, you see Dean and Cas sitting down at the table talking about whatever.
"You look great!" Dean says smiling.
"Did Cas tell you to say that?" You smirk at him.
"Wh-what!? Of course not!" Dean chuckles
"Okay." You tease "Thank you."
"Sam gave me this." Dean hands you a letter, you look at it confused and open it. 'Meet me at the first spot I laid eyes on you.' You smiled to yourself knowing where to go.
"I'll take you." Dean says hoping out of his chair walking up the stairs, you follow behind him.
"We have to go to the beach." You say getting butterflies. "So, what's he planning?" You ask Dean. You know Sam is up to something and you know Dean knows.
"I don't know." Dean says quickly not moving his eyes from the road.
"Dean.. I know you know."
"No, no I don't." He says matter of factly.
"you're not going to tell me?"
"I wouldn't even be able to if I wanted because I don't know."
"Fine." You cross your arms. You're not against surprises you love them, it's just you're so nervous and you don't know why. Sam is the best boyfriend you've ever had, he cares for you deeply, he pays attention, he helps you when you're down, he cheers you up, he makes your days so much brighter, he is your forever. You honestly don't know where you'd be without which scares you but makes you feel safer with him. You know he would never do anything to hurt you. You can't believe how lucky you got, someone was listening to your wishes.
"We're here." Dean stops with a huge smile. When you get out of the car your body is shaking you're so nervous. You don't even know why. You can see lights lighting up the walkway, you smile at how beautiful they are. You slowly walk down a few stairs and walk on the path, you see rose petals spread out everywhere, you can't help the big smile on your face, your heart is pounding in your ears.
You see Sam standing by the beach with flowers in his hand, theres a table set up in the sand with champagne waiting to be popped. You can hear Dandelions by Ruth B. being played in the background. You smile and walk towards him.
(Song)
"Sam, this is wow." You say not even having words. You gasp loudly when you see Sam get down on one knee.
"Y/n Y/L/N" He starts, he pulls out a little black box "I saw you here 2 years ago, the moment I saw you I knew I wanted you to be mine. I knew I had to have you. I got so shy walking up to you I stuttered just saying hello." You both giggle. "The look in your eyes when you saw me, it was nothing I've ever seen. From that day we've been best friends, unfortunately I was scared because of my job and that held me back, but you reassured me you'd be fine by tactling me to the ground." You laugh again. "And at that moment I knew I wanted you for the rest of my life, I knew you were the one for me, I knew I'd be forever happy with you in my life so," He opens the box revealing a beautiful ring inside. "Y/n, will you please marry me?"
Your hand is covering your mouth, you have tears flowing down your cheeks. "Yes! Yes!" You squeal with excitement. Same carefully places the ring on your finger you can hear Dean and Cas cheering in the background, he hugs you tightly swirling you around.
"I can't believe we're engaged!" You kiss him, he kisses you back passionately. "I love you so much, Sam."
"I love you more than words can describe." Sam pops the champagne and hands you a glass. "To the future Mrs. Winchester!" Dean joins in on the toast. You smile to yourself just think how lucky you really are. You are going to marry Sam Winchester.
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