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#they leave their home town as soon as they can
beenbaanbuun · 1 day
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country boy w/ mingi
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thinking thoughts about country boy mingi who talks to you in a southern drawl as he leans his upper body on the bonnet of his truck. he’s so shameless with the way he looks you up and down, and you really don’t mind at all. in fact, you almost wish you could swap places with that stupid toothpick he keeps dangling from his pretty lips.
“don’t you think you ought to be getting home, doll?” he croons at you as you push yourself up to sit on the hood. the way your thighs spread against the red metal makes him salivate, but he’s a strong man. he can control himself, “i don’t think your daddy is my biggest fan; he wouldn’t appreciate you hanging around someone like me after sunset.”
as much as you hate to admit it, mingi is right; something about the farm boy from the neighbouring ranch just didn’t sit right with your daddy. maybe it’s his cocky way of speaking, or the rumours that get passed around town by all the pretty buckle bunnies who had their turn with him. the cowboy had built quite a reputation for himself, over the years. he likes to fuck and chuck; he’d rarely beds the same girl twice, and never more than three times. those brief encounters seem to be enough for most of the women you come across in the local bars—they do nothing but rave about how nonchalant and uncaring the cowboy is in bed. apparently, the way he fucks them hard and rough makes him all the more attractive.
yet he was never anything but soft with you. soft smiles, soft words, soft touches. just soft. if only your daddy could see the way he grins at you as he pulls the hat from his head and settles it atop yours, or the way his lithe fingers tighten the string around your chin to secure the hat in place. the deep chuckle that leaves him as the brim falls over your eyes goes straight to your chest, your heart beating unhealthily quick.
“my daddy doesn’t control me,” you push the brim up so you can see his pretty face. his skin is gorgeously tan from all those hours he spends in the field with his boss’s horses. you often watch him from your window, sketchbook in hand as you messily draw him over and over. he doesn’t look quite as good in graphite as he does through the glass of your bedroom window. seeing him like this, so close that you could touch him, is even better, “and i’m not really to go home yet. besides, didn’t you promise me a ride on mr campbell’s prize pony?
he smiles and it shines brighter than the sun that’s taking its time in sinking below the horizon. his laugh puts the sound of morning birds to shame. his skin is smoother than your daddy’s whiskey, and his eyes sharper than his switchblade. nothing compares to him, you figure as you gaze into his deep hazelnut eyes; you could watch him and never hunger for anything else. you’d be sustained for life.
“sure i did, doll,” he takes the toothpick out and flicks it to the ground. you watch as it lands in the dirt by his dusty leather boots before letting your eyes drag themselves back up his body to reach his eyes. every part of him is just as pretty as the next and you find that the more you stare, the more you want to have him, “but it’s getting to be dark soon, and like i said, your daddy doesn’t approve of me. i’m not quite good enough for his little princess, am i?”
“i think you’re good enough for me,” you blurt out, heat immediately rising to your face as you take in what you’ve just said. humiliating yourself in front of the man you’ve been dreaming about for years is never good, especially not when you see the man almost every day. you look to the floor, cursing yourself as you hear mingi hum in amusement. it’s not for long, though. he catches your chin on one long finger, drawing your eyes back up to his.
“i’m sure you do, doll,” his voice is teasing, as is his lopsided grin. it sends a shiver down your spine as he taunts you, “precious little thing, thinking i don’t see the way you stare at me from your window. i see the hearts in your eyes, y’know. the way they turn green whenever you see me with one of those towny girls. it's cute; you’re cute.”
a huge hand comes to rest on your exposed thigh. you freeze in place, eyes on his, heart in your mouth. then his other hand meets with your other thigh and without any resistance from you, he parts them just enough to shuffle his body between them. you swallow down the knot in your throat as he invades your personal space.
“part of me wants to agree with your daddy; you’re too good for me, doll. you deserve someone better,” his face is too close to yours. you’re holding your breath as if you might blow him away if you were to exhale. his own fans across your face, the scent of mint and menthol filling your senses. suddenly, it’s your favourite smell in the world, “but then again, i tend to be possessive over things i consider to be mine… and i don’t think i could bear it if i were to see my doll hanging off another man’s arm, hm?”
he whispers that last bit, the slow drawl of his accent echoing through your brain, turning your thoughts to mush. you’re sure he can see the effect he’s having on you; the shallow rise and fall of your chest, your swollen lip from where your teeth continuously tug against it, your glazed-over, thoughtless eyes. you’re also sure that it’s only serving to encourage him.
still, even if mingi currently has your legs in a gelatinous state and your heart ticking like a time bomb, your daddy didn’t raise a pushover. a princess, yes, but never a pushover. one of your (extremely shaky) hands finds its way to his chest, pushing at the linen-clad muscles ever-so-gently until he stumbles just a few inches back. despite your eyes not being able to find his face, you know you can do this.
“well, what about you?” your voice is feeble. you clear your throat in the hopes of making it stronger, “you think i like watching you flirt with other women? to hear all those nasty stories about what goes down in the bed of your truck?” the more you talk, the more your courage builds. you look him in the eye, only to see he’s still smirking. that beautiful, infuriating smirk, “you’re not the only possessive one, mingi. if i’m yours, you’re mine—”
the next few seconds happen in a flash, but you can pick out three key events. first, he bullies his way between your thighs again, pushing them wide and pulling you close until his pelvis is flush against yours. then, with a determined hand, he rips the hat away from your head, slamming it down onto the hood of his truck and making you jump. there’s almost no time between that and the final event, though, as before you can say a single thing more, a pair of determined lips find your own.
they’re hot as they trap you in a kiss, moving quickly and sloppily against your own. he’s quick to take charge, fingers pressing deep into the flesh of your thighs as he moves his lips against yours. it’s like he’s been waiting for this for years, and now that he’s finally got it, he’s not willing to let it go. desperate, and hard and fast, it makes your head spin in the most delicious way. so much so, in fact, that you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck to act as some sort of stability as you melt into his touch.
he pulls away for mere seconds, just enough for you to catch your breath, before diving in for more. this time, he leads with his tongue, bullying his way into your mouth as soon as his lips are on yours again. there’s no fight for dominance, the both of you already knowing that he’s the one in charge of this whole ordeal. you just let yourself sink into it, enjoying every second of him devouring your mouth.
all you can hear is moans mixed with the sound of lips smacking against lips. you can’t tell where your moans finish and his start, but perhaps it just goes to show how in sync the two of you really are.
he finally pulls away again, for good this time, and a heavy sigh falls from his lips, “i’ve always been yours, doll,” his wet lips meet your neck, and you tip your head back as a moan tumbles from your parted lips, “from the moment i met you, i was yours.”
“what about—”
“gossip spreads in a small town like this,” he cuts you off, “not everything you hear is true. you have a one-night stand to get over a girl once and suddenly you’ve slept your way through the whole town. honestly, i’m kind of glad the story focuses on how good i am in bed and not on the way i cried about you after i came…”
you can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles from your throat as he nuzzles against your neck.
“you cried about me?” you laugh.
“multiple times, doll,” he confirms, “what can i say, i’m a softie at heart.”
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mycheersricochet · 1 day
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Treat You Better | Hook
Hockeyplayer!Hook x reader
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Summary: Your bf gets traded to the New York Islanders, but he's a POS and Tyler welcomes you as the captain of the team.
Word Count: 11k
Warnings: insecure reader, gaslighting, cheating, allusions to sex (maybe? Idk there's a "steamy" scene but I couldn't quite get to smut which sucks. If you could read my mind)
Notes: there's quite a few scenes with the shitty bf. Don't know if that's a turn off but it kind of goes with the territory of reading a story. You gotta get the full picture. Hockey is not a huge focus but if you don't understand something ask or google it or just enjoy the idea of hockeyplayer!hook
Everyone told you to help him through his trade and just be there for him. But no one thought how this affected you. You had to leave your home, your family, friends, and even your job. 
Long Island was so far away from what you knew. No one was there to greet you as you arrived. Jake, your boyfriend of nearly two years, was told to fly directly to the game in Toronto so he wasn't there to make the move with you. You took a cab to the building where you now lived and you were met with all your boxes stacked in the semi furnished apartment. 
The place was nice, it had a big open floor plan and the walls were newly painted. But it had no personality. It almost looked like a bachelor pad with the black leather couches, brick wall, and bar in the living room. It would need some womanly touches that's for sure.
The first thing you did was take your phone out and call Jake to tell him you made it. But he didn't answer. You sent him a message hoping he'd get back to you soon.
Hey, I made it home. I miss you 💕
He replied with a simple thumbs up emoji and you tried not to let it bother you. Jake was busy and he was probably stressed with the trade. 
After a quick shower you got to work on setting up your new place. You wanted to have it as comfortable as possible for when Jake came home. The boxes needed to go first so you started with his things. 
His gaming system was placed in the entertainment center. His clothes were hung and folded in the closet along with his shoes. Some of his hockey equipment you left in the boxes next to the closet because it was too heavy. 
Next, you started on your clothes and took out a few essentials like your towels and warm throw blankets because it was colder in New York than your sunny town. By the time you had got down to bed you were ready to drop your head on the pillow and sleep for twelve hours straight. The rest of the things could be finished tomorrow. 
When you awoke it was too loud mutterings. Jake was home. You blinked awake and ran out to greet him. Your arms draped over him as you gave him a big hug.
"Welcome home," you told him, but he didn't return the sentiment and pulled your arms down.
"Hey," he said and looked around the place. "Why is this place such a dump?"
Your face fell, sure the place wasn't perfect. You still need to decorate and unpack a few more boxes, mostly your stuff, and then take out the empty boxes and bubble wrap you left behind last night. But it was better than when you arrived.
"I didn't have time to take everything out. I was so tired last night," you raked a hand through your mess of hair and ignored his scoff. You knew he was just cranky after a roadie.
"Alright well can you make a green smoothie while I shower?" He asked, Jake was a health nut and had a strict diet to follow closely.
Sometimes it was a little too strict, but it really paid off looking at his muscles. You grimaced however as you didn't have time to go to the store yet and nothing was in the fridge.
"There's nothing here for smoothies. But I can go out and get us some breakfast. I saw a cute little cafe around the corner.” 
He reluctantly nodded. "Don't take too long, yeah?" He kissed your cheek and walked away. 
You grabbed your wallet out of your bag by the door and put on your boots, then grabbed your coat to go out to the chilly street. The cafe bistro was just a few minutes down the street.
It was too cold for you though. Your shoulders were hunched in as you powerwalked to get there faster. You weren't paying attention when you crashed into a fit shaggy haired dude in sweats running in front of you.
“Oh sh-t, sorry,” you offered a quick apology. 
He had an unimpressed stare as he glanced over you and smirked, but didn't say anything back. He started running again and you shrugged. Your first New Yorker experience went alright, at least he didn't cuss you out and he was also really handsome.
It wasn't until you reached the cafe that you saw yourself in the glass door and realized why he was probably smirking at you like that. In the rush to get here you still wore your Care Bears pajamas and your hair was a mess. But hey at least your hair wasn't as crazy looking as the hoodie guy.
“Jake! I'm back!” 
Jake was sitting on the couch with a towel over his bare shoulders while he was playing video games.
“What took you so long?” He asked, pausing his game and turning to you to get his green smoothie.
“It was a long line,” you kissed him and he backed away wrinkling his nose and you remembered you forgot to brush your teeth. “Sorry.”
You turned and went to brush your teeth and go to the bathroom to fix yourself. It's not that you were careless about your hygiene, but you were so focused on getting Jake what he needed. He just got a little cranky whenever things weren't ready for him so you tended to forget about taking care of yourself. His only focus was hockey and you took care of the rest.
When you returned you jumped into his lap, surprising him. He groaned as he had to catch his control from falling and pause his game. But he didn't stay mad too long as you started kissing his neck. Soon you were christening your new couch.
You were wrapped around him as you lay back on the couch in your underwear while he stroked your back. He told you about his first game with the Islanders. 
“And the captain, he's such an asshole,” he complained. 
“What did he do?”
“He just thinks he's the shit because he's one of the youngest captains in the league. I told him about a pass and he completely wrote me off,” he chuckled. “But karma's a bitch. I think he injured himself.”
“Isn't that bad?” You asked. 
Having the captain injured so close to playoff season wasn't good and even you knew that despite knowing very little of the game. 
“Yeah, but don't worry babe. I'll get us to the playoffs. That's why they traded for me,” he said smugly. 
Jake was on a bit of a hot streak when he heard about the trade. It was still odd to you that the Kings traded him now. But they were the ones missing out. It was also good for you and Jake to get out of Los Angeles. You never really fit in with the WAGs there and there was someone in LA that you were happy not to be around anymore.
“I know you will,” you grabbed his bearded cheek and kissed him passionately. Yes, this was the best move. Here, you could be happy and no one could get between you two.
The first game you were going to was tonight. You spent the entire day getting everything for Jake's first home game. His game suit was picked up from the dry cleaners. His shoes polished and his gear bag by the door. 
“I'll see you later babe,” he kissed your cheek. “Wear the outfit I like, yeah? And do your curls,” he kissed you again and left.
“Shit.” 
You had no idea where your curling iron was, plus the products you needed to make your long straight thick frizzy hair curly were still in one of the boxes. It would take at least an hour to do your hair and you still needed to shower and blow drying your hair took another forty minutes. Plus, most of your clothes were still packed.
Why didn't you think about this before? Of course, your nicest jeans and expensive boots weren't going to be enough. If Los Angeles WAGs dressed to the nines you could only imagine how pretentious New York would be. Hopefully, the drive to the arena wasn't too bad.
You managed to make it just in time for the game and to meet a few of the other wives and girlfriends. Lexy, Ruby, and Julia welcomed you to the team with open arms. They seemed more laid back than the women back home.
For the first time since arriving in Long Island you breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this place would be kinder to you. On Jake's old team you were seen as an outsider. Especially since most of the women were still besties with his ex-fiance. 
“So how have you been liking New York so far?” Julia brought you toward the seats at the very front of the skybox. You didn't used to be allowed to sit there as they were reserved seats for the top players WAGs but everything seemed more relaxed here.
“Oh, it's good,” you smiled shyly. “I haven't been out much. I'm still getting the place together.”
“Yeah, I know what that's like,” Lexy added on Julia's other side. 
“If you ever need anything let us know. Let me add you to the group chat,” Julia touched your arm grinning and looked back down at her phone. “There, I followed you on Insta when I heard you were coming too, but you're private.”
Around a year ago you set your account to private. There was a lot of harassment toward you because of your relationship but you decided to keep it because it was how you communicated most with your friends.
“I haven't really been on it lately but let me accept your request.” You took out your phone and the three of you were too busy talking and looking at your screens to notice another person come sit near you guys. 
The dark figure caught your attention first. You glanced at him and turned back to your phone and back to him again. It was the guy from the other day. Julia noticed you went quiet and turned her head.
“Oh hi, Tyler!” 
Tyler turned to her and nodded. Looking at him again you notice how handsome he is and you blush. His eyes are hard but you see a softness behind them. He meets your eyes and you turn away quickly.
“This is Y/N, she's Jake Blasser’s girlfriend,” Julia tells him. “Y/N, this is Tyler, our captain.”
You're surprised that this man is the captain. He looks young but you remember he's one of the youngest captains in the league. 
“Hi,” you turn on the charm. “Nice to meet you,” you smile at him but he seems expressionless.
“Hey,” he says dismissively and turns his attention back to the game.
You remember that he got injured during the last game of the road trip. No wonder he's grumpy. Jake also gets this way when he doesn't get to play.
Julia sighs and whispers to you, “Don't mind him. He got hurt the other day and the team didn't want to risk it so he's a little grumpy. But he'll be back out there in no time.”
Tyler is quiet for most of the game. You do notice him fist his hands when he's nervous. And he also claps when his team plays well. You remember Jake calling him an asshole but you only see a guy who cares a lot for his team. It's obvious why he's the Captain.
After the game, you follow the girls out of the box. Tyler is standing in the way and he lets you and the girls get out first. You pass him and brush against him, catching a whiff of his cologne. He smelled ridiculously good. 
He leaves immediately after to go to the locker room. Significant others and friends weren't allowed in the locker room. The team still needed to do interviews and shower. In the meantime, you wait in the lounge designated for family and friends. 
“We should go out to brunch. To welcome you to the team,” Lexy puts her arm around your back and grins at you.
“Yeah, that would be nice,” you say enthusiastically. You were determined to make friends this time. A lot of your friends were in LA and lately you'd become distant due to them not liking Jake.
“Great! Tell me if you want to go shopping too. I gotta go,” she said goodbye and went to meet her man who waved at the girls by the door.
Ruby and Julia left soon after too. Jake always took so long to get ready. You were usually one of the last ones to leave the arena. 
“So how do you like the new guy?” You heard some footsteps outside.  The door hid you from sight and you didn't give away that you were still there. It turned out to be a good decision because one of the guys groaned. And another scoffed. You frowned because they were talking about Jake.
“You know how I feel about it,” another deeper voice responded. It was the captain you met earlier. “He should have stayed in LA with his supermodel girlfriend.”
The rest of the guys snickered as they left and you walked out seeing them turn the corner to the parking lot. So Jake was right and his captain was an asshole. But why would he call you a supermodel? You were hardly that beautiful and your fashion sense was non-existent. Maybe he was being sarcastic.
“Hey,” you jumped as you lost track of time. Jake appeared at the door and wrapped his arms around you. 
“Jake,” you chastised as he chuckled. “Don't scare me like that.” 
“Ready to go home?” He asked.
“Yeah, we're the last ones!” You grinned, chuckling as he tried to kiss you.
“I'll make it up to you at home, let's go,” he pulled your hand and you forgot about the prissy captain. He didn't like you? Too bad, you were here to stay.
Parties weren't really your thing. Especially parties specifically done to celebrate you were a rarity. Tonight was your welcome to the team party. Everyone and their partners plus kids were going to be there so you made sure to dress nice.
“Is this okay?” You fixed your outfit and asked Jake in the car.
He smirked. 
“Babe you look hot. I would have preferred your hair in curls though.”
You tried not to roll your eyes. Jake has a thing for your hair always being in curls. You had an inkling why it was so special to him but you didn't like to think about it. 
“You don't think I look too supermodel-like do you?” It was a stupid question and you regretted asking when he burst out laughing.
“You dressed like a supermodel?” He snorted. “Who told you that?”
“No one,” you played nervously with your hair. You didn't tell him what you overheard his captain saying. It would only cause problems and you knew Jake would not let it go. He could be a bit of a hothead and could hold onto a grudge. 
The house was full of hockey players as you walked in behind Jake who was holding your hand. He immediately caught the attention of a couple guys while you searched the room for one for the girls.
One thing you hated about these parties was how quickly Jake forgot how awkward you were around new people. Then he'd ask you on the ride home why you were so quiet.
This time you decided to let loose. You found Ruby making cocktails on the kitchen island and took one from her. The night was fun and you met a few of the other teammates. On Jake's last team everyone seemed closed off and you were never close to any of his teammates. Here, everyone seemed like a family. 
“So this is the grand tour,” Lexy twirled in her dress as we reached the kitchen again after she showed me her house.
“I love it. It's so cozy and chic,” you told her. “Can you help me pick some things out for our place? Jake's been too busy to go with me and he has better taste than me.” 
So far, he's hated every thing you'd gotten for the apartment. In LA, you moved in with him and he had a nice big house. Everything was modern and sleek. Later on you found out it was a project done by his ex and tried to change some things but he told you it messed with his routine.
“Of course, I'll take you to my favorite shops. Oh, we're going to have so much fun!” She seemed really giddy and drunk off wine. 
As Lexy went back into the living room to take some more appetizers, you stayed behind to top off your wine glass. Also, maybe eat a few finger sandwiches. A second later, you jumped like you were caught in the act when you heard someone else entering.
Tyler eyed you as you turned back around and ignored him. It was childish but despite talking to everyone around, he didn't get the time of day from you. 
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” you responded and sipped your wine.
He stood awkwardly on the other side of the island as you heard the music and mutterings of the rest of the party.
“Did I–” he paused as you gave him a hard stare. “Is there something I missed? You seemed annoyed whenever I was around you, out there?”
“No,” you replied, shaking your head like there really was nothing wrong but he knew there was something.
“Really?” He curled an eyebrow. “Alright then you won't mind doing a fireball shot with me,” he said, pulling up a bottle from the stack behind him.
“Wait what?” You asked, almost choking on your sandwich.
“Yeah, it's tradition for the newbies to do one with the captain. Blasser already did one on the roadie the other day.”
“But he's on the team.” Jake didn't tell you anything about this happening.
“And you're not?” Tyler half smiled. “Here,” he passed you a plastic cup like an inch full of fireball whiskey. “Unless you think you can't take it?”
You grabbed it tentatively. Something about the look in his eye like his was a challenge made you take a deep breath and take the shot. You immediately started coughing it up and Tyler laughed, unscrewing a water bottle and passing it to you.
“I gotta be honest, I didn't expect you to actually do it,” he said around honest to god, giggles. The serious captain was giggling but you were glaring at him with tears in your eyes and he laughed some more.
“You're the worst,” you coughed out, but you laughed nonetheless. 
The ice had been broken between you two.
Both of you stayed in the kitchen talking about your transition into the city. And eating chips which you found out was his favorite snack.
“I can't believe your dad set you on skates alone at two.”
Tyler shrugged, “I managed to stay on my feet. Then fell on my ass. It's on video.”
You laughed, eyes crinkling as you watched him. He looked cuter when he smiled. The moment was broken when Jake walked in.
“Hey babe, time to go.” He said, wrapping his hand around your waist.
“Yeah, let me just finish my chips.”
“You shouldn't eat that crap you'll get fat,” he says playfully touching your stomach and you shake your head with a small smile.
“It's just one bag, Jakey.”
It's awkward with Tyler in front of you guys. The tension is thick between them. Tyler closed off into an emotionless mask and Jake held your hip hard. You are thankful when Ruby and Ang come in breaking the ice. 
“You guys are going too?” Ang asks and Jake nods.
“Yeah, it's getting late. Come on babe, let's go say goodnight to Lexy and Cass.” He pulls you away and you send a quick wave to Ruby, Ang, and a small smile to Tyler who shares a small one with you too.
In the car, Jake interrogates you about Tyler.
“Did he say something to you? I'll kick his ass if he was a dick.”
“No,” you laughed awkwardly. “He just welcomed me to the team. He's actually kind of nice.”
“Nice?” He laughed.
“Babe, you're so innocent.” He told you with kind of a belittling tone.
“I'm not Innocent. I just took a shot of fireball,” you told him, pleased with yourself.
“What?” Jake looked at you confused as to why you were bringing that up. You didn't really drink hard liquor. “Since when do you drink shots?”
“Just showing I can hang with the team too,” you told him smugly and turned to look out the window with a small smirk.
He snickered. “I think a glass of wine will do like the other WAGs. You don't have to do shots. I didn't,” he shrugged. 
“But to welcome you to the team?”
Jake looked confused then smirked. “See babe, you're so innocent. Can't leave you alone for a minute.”
Jake reached a hand under your chin playfully and you felt a bit stupid. Tyler was only messing with you. He wasn't really welcoming you to the team.
Tonight's home game was a late kickoff on a weekday so a lot of the players' families weren't around. You were there but you had nowhere to be tomorrow. In addition, you were getting bored of sitting around at home. You had no work to keep you busy and no family around to keep you company.
“Hey,” Tyler gave you a warm smile as he sat next to you at the front of the nearly empty skybox. He was in his team hoodie and track pants. “I was hoping you were here. I wasn't sure you were coming.”
At first, you thought he was being sarcastic, but when you looked at him you saw he was being sincere. He did seem to be glad to see you here so you smiled back.
“I wouldn't miss it. I don't really have anything else to do anyway,” you shrugged deprecatingly. 
“How have you been adjusting to the move?” He was the first one to ask how you felt. 
Everyone else assumes you were fine and Jake had already been through two trades before so he didn't really know how it affected you.
“I don't know what I'm doing to be honest,” you tugged a loose strand of your hair back distractedly. “Jake said I don't have to worry about getting back to work, but I kind of want to do my own thing. You know?” Tyler nodded empathetically. “I don't want my whole life revolving around him.”
“What type of work were you into back in LA?” 
You were going to answer but somehow you remembered how he called you a supermodel and how you should go back to LA. So you thought about messing with him a little.
“Modeling.”
“Well, you're in New York. You can get a job here.”
You tried to hold in your giggles but burst out laughing.
“What?” He half grinned.
“You really think I'm a supermodel, don't you?” you said through giggles. 
Tyler stared at you confused then it hit him what he said after he first met you.
“You heard me?” He looked ashamed.
You nodded but smiled at him. You weren't mad at him or hurt really. Simply confused why he said that. Maybe a little flattered, he thought you were that pretty.
“You didn't sound too happy about us moving here. But I get it, kind of. Mostly, I don't know why you would believe I look anything like a supermodel,” you snorted.
He frowned.
“Why not? I think you'll fit in great on Vogue or whatever magazine. But I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome.”
“So that fireball shot last Saturday was your way of making it up? I know Jake didn't have to take one.”
He grinned, at being caught. “To be fair, I just wanted to break the ice with you.”
“Why is it so important to break the ice with me?”
“Hey Hook!” You heard someone yell out and Tyler turned his head. Making you notice how close your faces were to each other in order to hear yourselves over the noise of the arena. “Coach, wants to talk to you.”
Tyler nodded to the trainer and turned to you. 
“Sorry, I gotta go.”
You watched him go and admired how he treated service attendants in the skybox as he exited. He seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. Jake's former captain never even talked to you or welcomed you to the team.
Jake went out with his teammates after the game. He invited you to go with them but you decided to head back home. It would be good for him to interact with his teammates outside of the hockey rink.
Sitting back in your PJs you scrolled through your phone and did something you never really did. Google Jake's teammates. Okay, just Tyler. You found out he was a second generation star and his father also played for the Islanders. 
Somehow you found yourself on Tumblr where he was very popular by the amount of fanfiction you scrolled through. But a few posts caught your eye from a few Puck Bunny slash hockey gossip blogs. 
Now you usually avoid those blogs. The only one you stalked was earlier in your relationship and they were tearing you to shreds. You cried and almost broke up with Jake over the phone while he was on the road because you thought he was cheating. But you were stronger now and this time you were reading about Tyler.
But it seemed they didn't know much about him. Apparently he hadn't had a public girlfriend in years. There was only one picture of him and his ex and he looked really happy in one of those stereotypical couples poses in the mirror. The girl was really pretty and exactly the type you'd imagine he'd go for.
As was usual there were the usual people claiming to have hooked up with him. All had positive reviews of him. Saying he was a cool guy but looking for nothing serious. And he didn't really answer DMs since he wasn't very active online.
There were also pictures of him in the locker room. He was lean and fit, as you expected but he had muscles that you didn't really notice with his baggy hoodies and sweatpants. He also didn't really talk a lot but that was common for several hockey players. They tended to hate talking to reporters or whenever they had a camera on them in general. 
After a few videos you decided to close out the tab and delete your history. It felt like you were doing something wrong looking into him like this. What he did was none of your business and it was a little weird now that you knew him personally. You glanced at the time and noticed it was already one AM and Jake would be home soon. 
Yu hoped he would manage to break the ice with his teammates and make friends with some of them. His transition into the team hadn't been easy from what he's told you. Maybe he just needed some time to bond with his captain. Tyler was really nice, maybe they just got off on the wrong foot.
Alright so maybe not everything could be settled with a couple drinks. Jake was not happy when he came home from practice. He slammed his bag down on the floor as soon as he got in and pulled out one of his beers he kept in the back. 
“Jakey, what's wrong?” You approached him and touched his shoulders.  
“Captain asshole,” he threw the cap of his beer into the sink harshly. “And his little clique of ‘lads’,” he spat then took a swing of his beer.
You sighed. “Maybe you just need one on one time with him. Why don't we invite him for dinner?”
You don't know why you offered. You never told Jake to invite his teammates over.
Jake grimaced then sneered.
“Hell no. I don't want him in my house. It's too bad he lives in this building too,” he shook his head, and turned away as he walked off drinking his beer.
That was news to you, but it made sense why you crossed paths with him on your first day here. Tyler never mentioned it but then again you haven't spoken to him that often.
The Islanders game was in an hour and you were going to be late. There's no way you were going to get to the other side of the city on a game day and during Friday rush hour. 
You still get lost since you tried your best not to have to leave the house. Which was easy since you had nowhere to go and no one to see. Except today you decided to go to a museum out of the blue.
Where are you? I thought we were going to have drinks before the game :( - Julia
I'm trying to get a Lyft. And I'm lost 😭 - You
Share your location with me - Julia
You did so and waited on a bus bench. You could hear Jake in your ear chastising you for being so dumb and getting lost. He could not find out.
You're lucky. Tyler is near there. Stay there buttercup he's coming for you 🙂 - Julia
A sleek black car stopped in front of you and you looked up to see Tyler sliding the window down. He gave you a small smile as you got in the car.
“Are you wearing a suit?” You blurted as you immediately noticed the blazer and tie.
A small blush marked his cheeks as he turned away and pulled into traffic.
“I had to. I was doing press at the NHL offices today. And it's game day. I've been told recently that I don't look like a Captain so,” he emphasized by waving his hand off the steering wheel.
You chuckled. “Who told you that? You are exactly the image of a Captain.”
He shook his head thinking you weren't being serious.
“You are! You're overly serious outside of talking up your team and you get so riled up when you watch them play.”
He glanced at you with surprise in his eyes. 
“I didn't know you were watching me that closely,” he said in a deep baritone that gave you a small shiver.
Comfortable silence fell over the car. 
“So can I ask what you were doing over here?”
“It's kind of a secret,” you played with your hands nervously. 
“A secret?”
“Don't tell Jake but I went to an interview earlier.” 
“That's great! So how'd it go?” He glanced at you to continue.
“I think it went well. They're going to call me about a second interview.”
“Well I'm glad you're getting back out there. But why don't you want to tell Blasser?”
“I just don't know if he's going to like the idea.”
“Why wouldn't he be? If you were my girl, I'd want you to be happy.” The way he said “my girl” made you feel warm inside.
“He just wants me to take it easy.”
“Take it easy?” 
“Jake doesn’t like to see me stressing.”
“Don't worry, I won't tell him,” he smiled.
“So how are you and Jake getting along?”
The air turned tense. 
“I take it you also don't get along with him very well.” Tyler didn't reply. “What is it with you guys?” You chuckled. “Should I lock you in a room together?”
Tyler chuckled humorlessly. “I don't think you'd want that.”
You watched him quietly as he kept driving. His watch shines in the sunset.  
“I'm glad we are friends at least.”
He looked at you earnestly. “Me too.”
Jake's sister Jenny was coming to New York this week. She was very particular about things so you were already on edge. 
“What hotel is she staying at?” Jake watched you strangely in the mirror where he was finishing brushing his teeth.
He spit into the sink and looked at you to answer your question as you stood by the door in your PJs. “She's staying here. I'm not putting her in a hotel.”
“What? But the guest room is not ready yet. We got the boxes we haven't unpacked in there.” 
Jake shrugged as he passed you to walk across the hall to your bedroom. “Jenny will be fine with some boxes in the corner for a few days.”
You weren't so sure about that so by 9am the next morning you were cleaning out the room. The things you didn't know where to store went into the hallway closet. 
All it needed was a fresh coat of paint for the walls. Since there was still a few days before she was due to arrive you decided to order some paint cans and get to work. It was still airy outside so opening the windows during the day would be enough to air out the room.
However, as was the case for Jenny she surprised you by arriving two days earlier. 
“Jenny,” you watched her with your mouth open in surprise as she gave you a quick hug and let herself in. 
“Hii,” her high pitched girly voice reminding you of the mean girls you see in movies. “Where's Jake?” 
“He's at practice,” you shifted in your oversized crewneck and loose sweatpants. You weren't ready for company. “We thought you were coming on Friday.”
Jenny made herself at home in your kitchen. Picking through the things you had on the counter decorating the kitchen. Her face pinched, showing her distaste.
“Yeah, well I saw an earlier flight and texted Jake last night maybe. He didn't tell you?” She smirked like this was funny to her. 
“No, he must have forgotten.” Dammit Jake.
“About me?” She motioned to herself. “Never,” she grinned. “You probably didn't notice or you don't care,” she pouted.
“I care,” you smiled uncomfortably. “Anyway, forget it. Come see the guest room. I just finished decorating it a few days ago.”
She grinned and took your hand as you took her down the hall. Your heart beat nervously waiting for her reaction.
“Oh,” she said, clearly disappointed. “This is nice.”
You tried not to show her how your face fell. Of course she didn't like it. Thankfully you were spared the awkwardness as you both heard the door bang shut.
“Hey, I'm home,” Jake called as he came in and set his equipment bag down on the floor next to the door.
Jenny went out to the hall running and squealing in excitement as she fell into her brother's open arms. 
“Jakey!”
“Hey sis,” he hugged her back and looked back at you, mouthing sorry as you rolled your eyes at him.
“Guess what?” She exclaimed. “I convinced mom and dad to come this weekend too.”
No…you weren't ready for their daughter. You could imagine how Jake's mom would react to the apartment. 
The entire family was full of perfectionists. Jake's mom and dad did everything to get their son into the NHL. And they expected the all star treatment whenever they came into town. 
“Cool,” Jake shrugged and sat his ass down on the couch to play video games. “Babe, can you make sure my mom gets the care package I always get her. I don't know who to call since we moved here.”
“Oh, and dad wants to golf at some popular club in the city. I forgot the name,” Jenny informed you offhandedly as she sat down next to Jake. “By the way, Jakey,” she said sweetly and you imagined she was going to ask her brother for another car since she recently crashed the one he gave her last summer.
In the meantime, you went into the room to try to get a day pass at the prestigious golf club you were sure Jake's dad would love. And to look up where to get the usual expensive care products his mom was accustomed to getting whenever she came to visit. 
When you finally finished making some calls you headed into the kitchen to start on dinner. You paused on the way as you heard the siblings talking in the living room.
“She painted it an ugly yellow,” Jenny complained. “And my room stinks of paint.”
You resisted the urge to yell at her that she wasn't supposed to arrive yet. If only she would have given you the courtesy of getting your things in order before she invited herself over.
Jake laughed as he continued playing. “Yeah, she doesn't have the best taste.”
“Tell me about it. What are these pillows,” she kicked one to the floor as she laid out on the couch.
You stomped into the room and received a disingenuous smile from Jenny. You ignored her and started on dinner. 
“We're not really eating here, are we?” She asks as you are nearly done with dinner. “Can't we go out? We're in New York!”
As if she couldn't have said this before you started cooking. Jake sighed and got up to the kitchen, opening the pan and smelling your cooking. You watched him expectantly so he could tell his sister that you made dinner and she could eat it or leave.
But he frowned and turned off the stove. 
“Yeah, let's go out.” 
“Awesome, let me get my jacket!” She screamed and went into her room. 
You hit Jake in his stomach. “Jake!” 
He rolled his eyes, “Babe, come on. I'm tired. Let's just go.”
He grabbed the keys and strolled out the door when Jenny came back and you trailed after them. The door slamming hard behind you.
Tyler clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply through his nose. If he had to listen to these people keep talking he was going to lose it. He had met some obnoxious fake people in his line of work, but he had yet to have them in his team. 
Jake's father kept droning on about his son as if he was single-handedly leading the team into the playoffs. Tyler knew Jake had done nothing but cause more distractions than unity in the team. And as far as he knew, he was still the Captain of the team. 
“Daddy, you're talking Tyler's ear off.” Tyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes as another one of Jake's family members cozied up to him.
Tyler gave her a short nod when he met her, hoping she'd understand to leave him alone, but alas that wasn't the case.
“It's too bad, Y/N can't be bothered to be here to introduce us,” she told him.
“Well, you already know who I am,” he deadpanned. To anyone else it maybe could have sounded cocky but he knew a girl who only wanted him for his fame when he saw one.
His mind strayed to where you could be. He knew you wouldn't miss a game so he made an excuse that he had to go downstairs to tell the coach something and made his getaway. There wasn't much traffic since the game was still going on so he made it back to the apartment building in record time. 
He knocked on the door a few times but didn't get a response. Tyler was beginning to worry and called your name again. The door finally opened and he wasn't prepared for the sight.
“Tyler? What are you doing here?”
“You weren't at the game and you didn't take any of our calls. I got worried and decided to check on you.”
And good that he did. You didn't look good. You had bags under your eyes and were super pale. A frazzled look was on your face and your eyes were red like you had been crying.
“I'm sorry,” he frowned, she didn't need to apologize to him. “I just had a lot of things to take care of for Jake's parents. And when I checked the time it was already late and I felt a little dizzy and I got a call from that interview I went to last week and I got rejected, and–” she explained, getting more anxious by the second.
“Hey,” he grabbed her arms as he soothed her. “It's okay,” he pulled her into a hug and she burst into tears. “It's okay, baby girl. It's okay.”
She cried into his shoulder as he held her. Eventually she calmed down enough for them to sit down at the table. Tyler pushed a banana toward her making her eat it. 
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “Do you think we can still make it to the game? Jake is going to wonder why I'm not there?”
Tyler fisted his hands, not in anger toward her but the fact that she still thought of her asshole boyfriend before herself. 
“Don't worry about the game.” He had faith his teammates would be able to win a game even without their Captain in the arena. He also didn't care if he would be called out for leaving in the middle of a game. His coach would probably give him a talking to about his responsibilities as a Captain but he didn't care right now. “You look like you haven't slept in days. You should rest.”
She immediately shook her head. 
“Jake's parents–”
“They're fine at the arena. They're in the sky box.” Fuck Jake's parents honestly. They were just as stuck up as their son and daughter. “Get some sleep. I'll explain to them what happened when I go back to the arena.”
She reluctantly agreed but he didn't leave until she changed into her pajamas and locked the door behind him. 
He booked it back to the arena and arrived right before the end of the game. No one called him out for leaving and he wondered if anyone noticed. 
The locker room was rowdy as he walked in behind the guys. He sat back for the questions with the press in case they asked anything specific. 
“Hook,” one of the lads whispered, yelling at him to get his attention. “Come’re,” Anthony nodded his head for Tyler to get closer.
“Sup’”
“Where'd you go?” Tyler just stared back at him. “I asked one of the trainers to get you a question and they said you ran out of the box.”
It was uncharacteristic for him to ditch his team. But he needed to check on her. 
“I stepped out for a bit,” he answered vaguely.
Anthony inspected him, he hoped he wouldn't have found out. His friend would pry.
“For what?”
Tyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I had to check on something important.”
“Something or someone?” Anthony raises his eyebrow. 
“Senerchia!” His coach called him, saving him from this conversation.
He knew he'd get interrogated later. Perhaps even the other lads would join in. 
He looked at Jake and figured he should tell him about what happened. Ultimately, he chose to text Lacey and ask her to tell Jake or his family. He didn't want to cause her any more problems.
It was Tyler's first game back since this injury and you wanted to do something special for him as a thank you for last time. So you made him homemade potato chips.
“Hi, I wanted to give you this for your return. I know you can't eat these now but since we're all going out to celebrate after the game, I thought I'd bring them over before you left to the arena.”
“Thanks!” He noticed they were homemade chips. “You didn't have to.”
You shrugged, “I make them sometimes.”
You then noticed his lack of tie and his open collar. “I'll leave you to get dressed.”
“Hey,” he grabbed your elbow gently. “My parents will be at the game tonight. Sit with them, I told them about you.”
“You told your parents about me?” You don't know why you were grinning so wide it hurt.
He shuffled his hair with a slight uprise of his mouth.
“A little.”
You stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat. “I can't wait to meet them and tell them about how welcoming you've been. okay well I'll see you later and congratulations.” 
You tried to keep your hands to your side and not give him a big hug.
It was easy to see how much the team cared for their Captain. Even the WAGs and kids were excited for his return. 
When he got a hat trick within the first quarter and you threw your hat along with the rest of the crowd. You also might have cheered him on a little too loudly for him that Peter, his dad, sent you a small knowing smile.
Afterwards you went out with the rest of the girls to a bar where the team would meet you for drinks. 
The girls were already rowdy after a round of drinks. You caught up with all the gossip and laughed with the others. You felt like you were talking with old friends. Everyone was just so nice and friendly compared to LA. Long Island felt more like a family than a team. You imagined it had a lot to do with Tyler's leadership.
Speaking of the captain, he was across the bar chatting with the “lads”. They were his closest friends and the core of the team as you heard from Jake. Jake didn't like them but you found they were cool guys.
Tyler met your eyes and gave you a small grin. A warm feeling settled over you from the look alone. You gave him a short smile back and glanced back at the table where the girls were talking about Lexy’s new job.
The way she spoke excitedly about it made you ache for something similar. Even though you were enjoying being here it still didn't fulfill you. There was something missing and you really wanted to get back out there and find yourself.
Your relationship with Jake was fine but he was always busy. And you didn't want to feel like a burden to him anymore. Something had to give and you hoped he was okay with it.
“Hey, ready to go home?” Jake's overwhelming scent of his cologne reached you as he placed his large hand on your shoulder. In the background, you heard the girls complain and tell him to stay longer, but you knew he was probably tired from the game and socializing with the team. 
“Yeah,” you turned to him and nodded. “Let me just go to the restroom before we go.”
“Alright, I'll meet you in front,” he was already turning as you stood and got your purse, saying some quick goodbyes with the girls.
As you were leaving you noticed Tyler talking with a very attractive woman by the bar. He made eye contact with you and gave you a small wave as the woman continued talking to him. 
An unknown feeling reeled in your belly but you shook it off as you met Jake outside. But on your way home you kept wondering if Tyler would take that woman home. Not that it was any of your business. Good for him. He was single and he had a good night.
It was close to the playoff season and things were heating up for the Islanders. Unfortunately, things were heating up between you and Jake too and not in a good way.
“Why do you have to look for work now?” Jake complained for the third time since you told him earlier this week. “I'm in the middle of getting my team into the playoffs. I need you to focus here, not on some job you're probably not going to get.”
His words hurt, mostly because you knew he was right. The job you wanted was a coveted spot in one of the best companies in Long Island. You were severely under qualified for the job. 
Jake knew he hit a spot when you turned away from him and sniffed. He sighed and slowly got closer to your back. 
“Babe,” he said softly. “I'm sorry. I know you want to work, and I promise I'll help you find something this summer.”
He slowly turned you around and you buried your face in his chest as you felt tears burning in your eyes. 
“Plus, I don't know if we're going to be staying here if we don't make it all the way to the Cup.”
You looked up at him alarmed.
“What?” You asked, voice hiccuping from crying.
Jake grimaced, “Just this team, babe.” He shook his head, sounding annoyed. “But I don't want to talk about it. And I don't want to see you crying anymore,” he kissed your forehead and brushed your hair away from your face. “You're too pretty to cry. Let me see you smile.”
You did as he said even though you weren't feeling it. Especially when you thought about doing the whole moving thing again. You really hoped things worked out because you think you found your home here in Long Island. 
Two weeks later, the team went on a road trip in Canada. Meanwhile, you were at home prepping for your interview that was looming closer. Every day you went over questions you were sure they'd ask you to see if you were qualified.
You walked around the halls of the apartment building going over your answers in your head . It was something you did to prepare as it usually helped you not forget things if you got anxious. You stumbled when you found someone turning the corner. 
“Hey,” Tyler greeted you, his hand on the handle of his suitcase behind him. Looks like they had returned from their roadie earlier than planned or maybe you lost track of time. “Are you here to see me?”
He grinned at you and you couldn't help grin back until his words hit you.
“Oh! Uh, no,” you smiled awkwardly. “I actually,” you turned your head left and right noticing where you were. “I didn't know I was on this floor. I kind of was going through some stuff in my head and–” you looked at him as he seemed a little confused. “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. I'll let you go, you must be tired.”
“Nah, come in,” he nodded to his door. “I haven't seen you in a while. Do you want a drink?”
“I should go see Jake,” you told him, but he insisted.
“Come on, just one drink,” he watched you expectantly and you nodded.
You walked into his apartment and looked around at his place. He had a really nice home. Nothing like the bachelor pad you expected from the captain of the Islanders.
“So how was the roadie?” You asked him once you were sitting at his kitchen nook eating some chips he had out. Jake didn't let you keep any of these snacks at home during playoff season. “The girls and I watched the games at Ruby and Angelo’s. you guys played so well.”
“Yeah, the team is doing fantastic out there,” he sounded proud but quickly grimaced.
“But?” 
He looked at you then swallowed and shook his head. 
“Nothing,” he said but you knew there was something going on and you could only imagine what it was.
“Are you and Jake still butting heads?” 
He looked at you curiously.
“Yeah,” he answered, like he was not expecting you to know about it. 
“Jake just really cares about hockey,” you shared. “I know he can sometimes be a little overbearing but he means well.”
Tyler was quiet as he looked at the countertop and moved his hand repeatedly over a spot. You reached over and touched his hand. He stopped moving it and kept his eyes glued on your hand over his.
“Why don't you come for dinner? I can cook something up, give you guys a home cooked meal and y'all can have a chance to talk outside of the locker room,” you suggested and smiled warmly as he finally met your eyes.
“I don't think that's a good idea,” he responded and you took your hand off of him. “We just got out of a six hour plane ride. I bet he's tired from the roadie.”
“Yeah, you're right,” you agreed. “I should probably go check on him. He's probably wondering where I am. I left my bag in the apartment.”
You got off the stool and Tyler stepped around the kitchen island to catch your wrist. You looked at his fingers around you as if it burned. He let it go just as quickly.
“You didn't tell me what was on your mind,” he said.
“Oh, uh it's nothing. Just another job interview. I'm not sure if I'm going anyway,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your hair and avoided his face. “I'm probably not gonna get it anyway.”
“Hey,” he got closer, only an inch between you. “Don't talk like that. Go. You never know what could happen. I mean you got more chances than us winning the Stanley Cup,” he joked.
“Oh, you guys are winning Tyler. You're an amazing Captain,” you gazed into each other's eyes for an extended minute until you finally broke when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. “I'll see you later,” you told him as you left his apartment and hurried to yours where Jake was downstairs calling you.
Things just didn't seem to sort themselves out with Jake. Lately, all you did was fight. He was always in a mood when he was home despite the team doing amazing.
Sometimes you wondered if Jake was happy with you. Or if he was happy with anything? All he did was talk shit about his team. Especially Tyler who he unashamedly despised.
At the same time, you couldn't respect Tyler more. He was leading his team to the finals. The few times you saw him, because he was so busy, he was always very nice despite being tired.
But all Jake did was complain. Either you didn't have his things ready when he wanted them or you cooked the wrong meal. There was a cold distance between you two during dinner, on the drive home, and in your bed.
Sometimes you cry yourself to sleep. Your anxiety was off the charts especially with the job interview looming closer. 
Tyler and the girls encouraged you while Jake remained oblivious that you were still taking the interview. Despite this you still went to every one of his games and put on your Playoff jacket with his name on the back as you cheered him on with the other WAGs.
When the team won the last game to make it into the finals you went into the locker room with the rest of the WAGs to celebrate. 
You got sweaty hugs from the guys as you passed by looking for Jake who was somewhere in the back celebrating. Then you crossed looks with Tyler who was shirtless with a huge smile on his face. 
“Congratulations,” you told him, resisting the urge to embrace him too. He just looked so damn good. His chain hung on his neck and his hair was all over the place. Tattoos that you'd never seen on display.
He didn't care though as he grabbed you in a hug. You held onto his shoulders and smiled into his skin.
“You deserve it,” you told him.
“Couldn’t have done it without you being here,” he said. You pulled back and saw him grinning from ear to ear, brightening the whole room.
You didn't get to ask him what he meant when you heard Jake before he came enveloping your body and pushing you forward brusquely. 
“I'm going to the finals, babe,” he said in your ear obnoxiously.
“Yes you are,” you smiled at Tyler whose grin faded. 
You rolled your eyes. Can't they play nice? They just made it to the finals. 
“Gonna get the Cup, aren't we, Hook?” Tyler glanced down at Jake's arm around your chest.
“Hook?” You asked.
“That's his nickname. Because he looks like a fucking kid like that movie,” Jake joked, probably mistaking Hook for Peter Pan, but it sounded like a jab at Tyler by the look on the other man's face.
Awkwardly you took his arm off you and turned him around to get him to go change so you could go. Tyler disappeared and you breathed a sigh of relief at dissolving the tension between them.
You sat in Jake's booth as you waited and noticed his phone buzz. One look at it and you frowned. Taking it in your hand you put in his code and opened the new text. 
Congratulations baby!! I can't wait to celebrate together🥂 here's a sneak peak 💕
You watched the picture emotionlessly. It was her. Of course, it was her. His one true love. Jake was talking to his ex again– No. He was seeing her again.
The celebratory setting wasn't for you anymore. You walked out of the locker room. You didn't belong there. You never did.
Jake denied it. He told you she was the one texting him. That was the first time. It didn't mean anything. He deleted it. He blocked her. 
But you knew. 
It would never be over. He would always be a cheater. Most importantly he would always run back to her. Because it's happened before. 
Even the trade to Long Island didn't keep them apart. Jake told you he'd asked for it to get away from her and give you guys a chance. 
You stupidly believed him. You believed him over and over again. You left everything for him. You're life was his and he didn't care every time he pushed you down and hurt you.
“I made this move for you. Had to deal with a shit Captain just for you,” he insisted.
“Bullshit!” You spat loudly, you were sure the neighbors heard as you slammed the door to the apartment.
“You got traded because you wanted more money and they wouldn't give it to you. Now you're placing all this shit on Tyler. And me. You always blame everyone else except yourself.”
“Maybe I had to go looking for someone else because you can't support me at all. Instead you're wasting your time on that stupid interview,” he snorted. “Don't think I didn't see those cards. I'm working my ass off getting my team through the playoffs and you're out here doing that wasting your time.”
“Fuck you. All I've done since I got here was try to make this move easier for you, but of course Jake couldn't have the attention on him for one second and you call her back.”
“I don't need you to do this right now,” he threw his hands in the air and went down the hall to your room. “I got the game in two days. I'll crash at a hotel.”
He came back with a duffel bag. You watched him through teary eyes. It was like deja Vu. This had happened before. You chasing after him was a common occurrence. Jake knew it. He was just waiting for you to do it again. 
However, this time you didn't say anything. You wiped your tears and watched him. He gave you an expectant look back. One word and he'd turn around and gaslight you into believing you would never find a man like him again. 
“Man, fuck this,” he said. “No one is going to fuck you like me you know that babe.”
It was a big day, you had the interview today. The Islanders also played for the Stanley Cup with home field advantage. Jake was staying in a hotel until you moved out. He made it clear he was letting you stay there until you “packed your shit and left.”
You had boxes delivered and strewn all over the place getting your things in order. Still, unsure if you should even go to the interview. You didn't have to stay in Long Island anymore. What was the point?
But somewhere in the back of your mind a voice very similar to Tyler's told you to go. You knew you'd regret it if you didn't go. 
Getting your best dress out of your luggage you ran to the bathroom to get ready. You left a mess inside then got your resume and bag to leave. 
Traffic was a bitch as you left the interview. You sat in the back of a cab with your back relaxed in the backseat. Head lolling to the side as you stared out the window. Thinking of never seeing this city again. 
There were people walking the streets with Islanders Jerseys with Tyler's last name and number on the back. Most of them were heading to the game inside the arena you were passing. 
Inside must be the family you thought you had made here. But that life was never real. All the dreams you made in this city are gone. Your interview didn't go well. You just knew it.  It was time to go.
The crowd roared in the UBS arena as the horn sounded signaling the end of the game and the Islanders win. Tyler was swept up in the celebration. He carried the Stanley Cup over his head and passed it to his teammates.
The party continued long after the game. Everyone was in high spirits and hugging their significant others and family who came down. Tyler hugged his crying father and got a kiss from his mom. Everything seemed right except it wasn't.
He knew what happened between you and Jake. You told Lexy and it tracked down to him. He tried calling you and seeing you, but you always missed each other despite living in the same building.
There was nothing holding you in this city anymore. But he hopes you'd decide to stay. Maybe you did get that job you wanted. Maybe you'd want to get to know him. Maybe it was the champagne and beer flowing that he decided to go and find out.
You had watched the game on TV. Shouting and cheering as Tyler made the final goal sealing their fate as Stanley Cup Champs. You were so happy for him but you had to get to packing. 
The knock at your door surprised you but you knew it wouldn't be Jake right now so you relaxed.
“Tyler,” you were surprised to see him. “Shouldn't you be celebrating with your team?”
“I couldn't stay there knowing you weren't there.”
Tyler gave you a second to process what he said then took his chance and kissed you for the first time. 
He caught you off guard showing up in your–well whatever this place was– and surprising you with his words and his kiss. So it took you a moment to react, but when you did you melted into him. 
His playoff beard tickled your face and he tasted like alcohol, but you didn't mind getting drunk off him. It felt like you were floating but then you realized you had wrapped your legs around him and he was carrying you further inside. 
Tyler pressed your back into a wall as you dug your fingers in his brown hair and he moaned into your mouth. He keeps chasing you with his kiss and you give in to him until you're both heaving for air.
“Tyler,” you manage to say tenderly, keeping him close with an arm around his neck. 
He steals a quick kiss again and you smile against it but your mind is still reeling from having him show up at your door.
“I know you have questions but you really can't say you didn't see this coming. Please, tell me you felt the same,” his said, in a slightly begging tone.
“I did,” you whispered, although it was just the two of you alone in the apartment. “But I can't do this.”
A hurtful look came across his face and your heart aches for him. He had to know though, you did care for him. 
“Because you still love him?”
“No,” you shook your head with a dry laugh. “I don't think I've loved him in a long time. It's just that,” you lowered your hands to his chest and realized you were still in his arms with your thighs on his hips.
He didn't let you go though. 
“Then what baby?” He asked, gently.
“I don't want to cause trouble for you. People will say I got between you and your teammate. Jake already hates you and your sponsors” you sigh.
Tyler had a reputation. He was the face of the franchise. Getting involved with the ex of his teammate was a huge risk you weren't going to let him take. 
“Fuck Jake,” Tyler interrupted your inner thoughts. “I don't give a fuck what he says. I just won the Stanley Cup, no one is going to say shit.” He shifted your weight. “Do you feel what you're doing to me?”
You mewled as he rubbed his erection against you. His mouth comes down to your neck and he presses you to the wall.  
“God, I've been wanting this since you first came to the skybox,” he groaned into your skin as you ran your nails through his scalp. 
Your head fell back on the wall as you moved your lower body for some kind of friction. 
“Is that why you said I should go back to LA?” You teased him, remembering what he told his friends.
“I wanted Blasser to go back to LA. Not you,” he smirked. “I’m not letting you go, doll, so you can stop squirming,” he pressed a kiss to your lips and placed his hands on your waist. 
“Hm,” you moaned, nibbling on his lip. 
“Such pretty noises,” he said. “All for me.”
“Where are we going?” You asked, turning your head around as he walked you to the door.
“Your new home,” he replied. “With me.”
You grabbed his face in the elevator in another exploring kiss. Your heartbreak fading away with Tyler's unabashed showings of love and devotion. 
Hook tag List: @crowleysqueenofhell @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @legit9thlunaticwarrior @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @99hook @5secondsofmoxley @wrestlersownmyheart @writtingrose @sizzlings-stuff @wickedval (ask/dm to be added or removed)
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the-beast-tamer · 2 days
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Ellis Twilight Chapters 6-10 Summaries 🗡
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Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. This is an extremely pared down SUMMARY of each chapter. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. The summaries will be uploaded in groups.
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Chapter 6
William and Alfons tells Jude, Ellis and Kate that an acquaintance of Alfons' is going to meet up with the head of the circus the following night in hopes to join the circus. William wants the three of them go to the meet up and bring in the head of the circus. Ellis is OK with the assignment, but Jude tells Alfons to go since he gathered the information. However, Alfons says he's too sensitive for interrogations, restraints, and fighting. Ellis asks if he can kill everyone and William says he can with the exception of the head of the circus, 'Loyalty to your evil'.
The next night, the go to the meet up place where a woman with bright red hair (Alfons acquaintance), enters a small unpopular bar that looks like an abandoned house. They wait outside, and soon they hear the woman exiting the bar saying that she wasn't going to do the job. Kate says that the 'solicitation' was aborted and Jude silently turns and walks into the bar. As Kate is about to follow him, Ellis notices the red-haired woman being dragged into an alley way, so they pursue the kidnappers in the alley way where they find the victim being gagged. The gang of men begin to attack Ellis, and he tells Kate to stay put.
Soon there are sprays of blood everywhere as Ellis takes each man out like he's cutting a thread shocking Kate that he wore the same face he usually did while killing them. After he finishes, he stands in a pool of blood and is like: That's all of them, I guess. He calls out to Kate saying that she looks pale, and then walks up to her reaching out to touch her, but she flinches trembling in fear. Ellis apologizes saying he knows it's scary and he says that he should've told her to close her eyes. Kate asks if the woman is okay and he confirms that she is just passed out.
Jude shows up pissed because the head of the circus got away and Ellis killed everyone, so they don't have anyone to interrogate. Jude carried the woman to the town doctor while she and Ellis return to the castle. Kate realizes as he escorts her to her room that she hasn't thanked him, so she does, but he tells her he made a mistake and should've had her follow Jude as he's messed with her happiness. He leaves her, but she grabs his hand because she feels that if he is so bothered and saddened with this, then he must also feel pain for taking other's lives.
He calls her sweet for worrying about him, but he isn't troubled at all. Kate is still worried that even though he'll get his hands dirty for the happiness of others, his happiness still doesn't matter to him, so she invites him to drink hot milk together before bed, and he smiles saying hot milk with sugar and butter are his fave. Now all Kate is concerned with is making Ellis happy.
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Chapter 7
The red-haired lady they saved returned home safely after being treated at the hospital. Alfons tells the trio that Victor cleared up the bodies and got rid of the thug's identities who are apparently gang members who recently came from somewhere up North. This gang has already had a clashing with Jude because they were trying to blackmail his business partners into stealing money from him and framing him for it. In fact, the attack Kate had after she came to the castle was actually some low level thugs from that gang. But a gang posing as a theater troupe, what's the point of that Kate wondered? While Kate is curious as to why a gang would pose as a theater troupe, Alfons says that some people get together to have pleasant and unusual experiences, so if you're looking to snatch people, it would be a good front for bait. He says that William's team is working on taking out the gang's strongholds.
Ellis suggests they patrol the streets in the meantime, but Jude doesn't think it'll be necessary in light of last nights events as the thugs should be laying low for now. Kate asks what happens to the people kidnapped and she's told mostly likely they will become gang members themselves, and be forced to commit all manner of crimes lest they die from disobedience. All the while the more sin they commit, the less it'll bother their conscious. Kate thinks to herself that must be how Ellis can kill so easily, and if that happened to him while working for Crown, then she can't leave it alone. Later, Kate is reviewing her notes in her notebook about the events and she bumps into Ellis (who has the day off), so she invites him out to town with her.
They agree to do patrols and then go to the park in between the patrols for a picnic. As she waits for Ellis to meet her when she runs into Roger who asks if she's going on a date with Ellis. She says they're just going out and he tells her she looks pretty happy about it. They talk at length about Ellis, and the way Roger talks about Ellis makes her think that he's like his brother. Roger says that if he were his brother the first thing he'd have him do is quit working for Jude. He says that he cares about Ellis, but it's due to his cursed research. He says that in Ellis' case he simply has an attachment to his particular curse because if he doesn't make me happy he'll be troubled to the point of not being able to sleep.
She senses layers of implications in the way he speaks and when she asks him why, he says it's a secret. He says they all have things they want to have and to expose them comes with a price. She asks what the price is and he tells her it's capturing Ellis' heart as he thinks they're a good match together. She quickly changes the topic and asks him if he knows of anything that would make Ellis happy, or things that make him sad or can't tolerate. Roger says that as much as he'd like to tell her, Ellis' true feelings, emotions, desires....Kate cuts him off by asking is he doesn't know? Which would be odd by how much they spend time together. Roger says that there's no such thing as a person devoid of emotions and greed, and that she'd have to learn his secret.
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Chapter 8
Roger leaves her and she wonders what she has to offer in order to open the box of Ellis' desires and feelings. He arrives and tells her she looks cute in her new clothes, she thanks him and they head to town. On patrol, they help out with a few minor things, but other than that nothing unusual happened. At the park, they set up their picnic, and Ellis lays down next to Kate agreeing with her that the weather feels nice. Ellis comments on how happy her face looks and when she turns to answer him she jumps at how close he is to her, and he asks if she's happy. She say's that with the perfect food, weather and because she can talk to him like this she is happier.
He asks if she's happier spending time with someone or resting alone, and she says she's the type who prefers to chat with someone. He asks her who she is at her happiest with when she's talking to someone, and she says she wonders if there is someone like that. He tells her to let him know when she's figured it out because he wants to help her be happy. He asks her how happy she would be with the person she loves? This takes her aback and makes her heart race, but she tells him he can not take care of her love life for her, but if she finds someone she likes she'll let him know. He doesn't say anything, but raises his body over hers and asks if she likes him. His soft bangs drop and touch her face and she asks him what he was doing. He tells her she looked lonely, but she is now embarrassed. He says that he thought she was aware of him. She thinks that she is always happy with Ellis, but it wasn't love, and she is just high on the fact that he's been so kind to her without any strings attached.
She shakes her head no and he says that's too bad. Too bad? He says if she were to like him then they could become lovers and that he could make her even happier. She asks Ellis if he likes her and he says that he does, but she is confused as he had just offered to help her find a lover. He said that wasn't a lie either because it's natural for someone to want the person to love be happy. She asks him what he likes about her as they've only known each other for a few days. He says that she's a hard worker, how she's cute when she can't resist eating something delicious, even when she's trying to patrol for people she doesn't even know; she's remembers his favorite foods and is kind enough to take naps with him, even worrying for him instead of being scared of him (over his killing spree).
She asks him how he’d feel if she said she like their current relationship, and he says that he’d be fine with it she wanted to be with someone else. Realizing that it didn’t matter to him, and the fact that she likes him as a person, she tells him she’s happy with just friendship, and he should find someone who will stay by his side forever. He gets this distant look on his face when he says that, and after calling him to his senses he gets off Kate and gives her a present. It’s a rose and thorn bracelet. She says that it matches the chains and thorns he wears on his outfit, which surprises him, but he says that he just thought its look good on her. Kate determines this must be what he subconsciously thinks and that it was a sincere gesture which makes her face flush. Soon they eat and return to patrol, and that night they go to one of the gang’s bases.
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Chapter 9
Ellis Kate and Jude go to a casino that the gang uses as a stronghold and Kate is tense. Jude who is smoking but standing a distance from them asks her what she worried about. Just then a little girl on some nearby steps falls and scrapes her knee. Ellis and Kate go to check on her but she soon starts crying. Next thing you know a guy with an eye patch appears and cheers the little girl up with a magic trick. She stops crying and soon her mother appears and reprimands her for going off on her own. They leave and all three are suspicious of the guy with the eye patch.
Kate recalls Alfons telling him the man named Jake Grace has a scar around his eye from when he was attacked by a wild animal as a child. Jude’s scowling at the guy who is standing in front of Kate, with simply saying Ellis’ name, Ellis understands his meaning and stands between Jake and Kate. They question him about the kidnappings and he answers all their questions. Apparently, the owner of the casino is sponsoring Jake for a circus comeback. Jake recruits the people and then they go to train for their performances, but not once had Jake seen the ones he’s recruited. When he asked to visit them, the owner of the casino told him they still need more performers and then they’ll let him visit the mansion they're staying at. Ellis says he’s being framed for kidnappings and doesn’t even know it.
Jude remarks they’ll have to get close to the gang to get more information themselves. Ellis wants them to pretend they’ll join the circus. Kate says because the gang has a grudge against them and they'll be recognized and be snatched out there before achieving their objective. Ellis says they can disguise themselves by covering their faces, but Jude counters that they can still tell it’s them by their voices. So, Ellis says, can’t we just keep quiet? Jude and Ellis both silently stare at each other before Jude clicks his tongue in agreement. Ellis tells Jake as he’s leaving they want to join too.
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Chapter 10
The three follow Jake into the theater after picking up some items along the way. Kate is now wearing a hat covering her eyes, while Jude and Ellis are wearing scarves wrapped around their mouths. Jake asks why the sudden change in wardrobe and since Jude and Ellis can't talk with the rick of being recognized, Kate says it's because they'd been outside for so long, that they may be catching a cold, so they won't be able to speak very well as their lips are getting chapped and throats are sore. Jude is whispering curses under his breath that she could've thought of a better lie than that, and Ellis smiles at her in approval.
Jake buys the lie and they proceed to visit the owner of the casino. Jake tells the owner that he's brought a few more recruits, but due to their appearance, the owner is suspicious of them, so he asks why they want to join. Jude walks up to him and speaks to him in proper Queen's English, which is so elegant that you'd think he were an entirely different person. He says he want because he's always been a fan of Jake Grace since his big box office hit, he then asks the casino owner if he is the one who sponsors Jake, and he says that he does, but there are some other higher ups. Jude inquires further, but the owner says that it's none of his business. Kate sees Jude give her and Ellis a certain look which she has learned from his other business meetings that means “hold you positions”, in other words, get ready to attack.
Ellis kicks over a flower vase to create a diversion and in no time he has the casino owner bound by the wrists with his ability. In the chaos, one of the thugs aims a gun at Jake and Kate saves him by pushing him out of the way which leaves her leg crushed by Jake landing hard on it. The pain is so excruciating it's hard for Kate to focus on watching Ellis and Jude. Meanwhile, Jude puts everyone asleep, including Jake. Kate asks why Jake must be put to sleep and he says that it's basically to protect him otherwise, he will have to kill him because this is a Crown mission. They learn from the casino owner that one night he stumbled on a drunk, sorrowful Jake and he thought that it would be easy to use him as cover for the human-trafficking business he went into.
They asked for the whereabouts of the people that were recruited, but at this point, it's too late. They've already been sold in the black market and they are all most likely outside of England now. Jude is upset because now the victims are out of their jurisdiction and Ellis says that not even Victor may be able to locate or do anything about it. The casino owner asks to be released and Ellis tells him that their aim was to stop the kidnappings, so of course, he must answer for his crimes. The casino owner is killed by Ellis and Kate passes out due to the pain of her injury.
In Roger's lab, Kate slowly comes to and here's them talking about her needing to rest and Ellis is visibly upset. She wakes up as Ellis and Jude were leaving which shocks them. Jude tells her to rest now that the case is closed. She asks what happened after she passed out. Ellis says the police were called by someone so they left. Jake and the remaining thugs were taken in, and he's sure they'll release him because he's innocent. Roger lends her a cane and Ellis takes her back to her room.
Premium story: He basically tells Kate not to apologize so much and to ask for things. That night she has a nightmare about Ellis being injured/killed, she wakes up wanting some water and when she tries to get out of bed she falls. Ellis knocks on the door and asks if she's okay and if she wants something to eat. Not wanting to trouble him, she says no, but he comes in anyways. She was going to apologize again, but he tells her not to apologize and to ask him for what she wants. She asks for a hug and he hugs her tells her that he's OK. He lays her gently in the bed and says that he will cast a spell on her to help her sleep, and he kisses her forehead.
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esleep · 6 months
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i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).
shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.
i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.
when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.
anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.
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alaboadoa · 6 months
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ೃ⁀➷ MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE ★
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a/n: fluff!! neuvillette being a touch starved loser (affectionate) + lots of terms of endearment. happy belated neuvillette day! may all neuvillette wanters be neuvillette havers ≧◡≦
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Neuvillette can't stand coming home if not into your arms.
The deafening silence of a sleeping home drives him mad. It used to be welcomed after his terribly loud days. Now only serves to remind him of the millennium he spent alone, of the heartbreak he had to endure with no one to hold him, and of the growing emptiness within his heart long before he knew you.
It's unlike him to come home so late, but duty calls and as the Iudex of Fontaine he must go wherever summoned.
For days he has come home well into the latest hours of the night, sliding off his shoes in the darkness of the hall and allowing the silence to swallow him up whole. Five unbearably long days of missing your smile greeting him at the door, hands all over his face and squeezing his cheeks until he nudges them away in lieu of kissing you hello.
He expects tonight to be the same. It's so late that there was not a single soul wandering the streets of the city, no one awake to witness the very tired, very cranky Chief Justice.
You always find a way to defy his expectations.
The hall is quiet when he cracks open the front door. Crushing loneliness swells in his chest and sinks into the pit of his stomach when he realizes that you must have gone to bed long ago, as anyone sane would do. But then there's a click, followed by a small flame dancing in the dark.
You ignite an array of candles one by one, each additional glow illuminating your beautiful face in warm light. Neuvillette can't stop the hitching of his breath, nor the confusion knitted through his brows.
"What are you doing awake?"
You know he doesn't mean to scold you. Soft laughter fills his ears as you saunter over to him slowly. Realization crashes down on him as you approach, allowing him to see closer what has kept you up.
"Happy birthday, my love."
It's so late that midnight passed hours ago. He hadn't even realized amongst all the chaos of his work that the 17th had come and gone, making way for his birthday.
Only you would remember. It was a talent you had, memorizing every detail about him that sometimes even he lost track of.
("Neuvillette, dear, I picked up some dark roast on the way home today." He didn't even realize he had run out.
"Welcome home, I made ragout!" He wasn't aware he was craving it until you brought it up.
"Do you want this?" It's the last cookie in the bag, saved especially for him because you know it's from his favourite bakery in town.)
He leans in and blows out his candles, eyes never leaving yours as he blinks at you slowly. You look so beautiful even now, in the dimly moonlit hall. Darkness envelops your bodies again and yet he never tears his gaze away. Not even for a moment.
"Now put the cake down, please."
"Hm?" Your head tilts, clearly confused by his request.
"So I can hold you," he quickly explains, fingers itching at his sides because of how much he aches to hug you.
You gently set the cake down on the entrance table before you get scooped into a warm embrace, pressed snuggly to his chest as he memorizes the outline of your body against his once more.
"I've missed you, my dear," he says, face burrowed into the crook of your neck.
"It's only been a couple days," you laugh, and then remind him: "I see you every day at lunch."
"No, this is different." He pulls away slightly, forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. There's something in there— vulnerability and love all mixed into a beautiful purple harmony. "I miss coming home into your arms after long days," he admits.
"Oh, love," you breathe, reaching up to cup his face the way he's so used to. "Things will settle down again soon."
His eyes close as he savours your presence, soaking up all the affection you're giving him in his moment of weakness. You've always spoiled him.
"I suppose so," he agrees, a smile finally settling on his lips. Your thumb runs along it, tracing the curve of his happiness. There's a beat of silence before you open your mouth again.
"What did you wish for?" You ask curiously, voice growing quieter as you lean in to kiss him. And the answer he gives comes naturally.
Neuvillette has always wished for things he read about in novels; imaginary promises of treasure and desire and fame, sealed with the wispy smoke of blown out birthday candles. He isn't even sure if he has ever actually wanted any of those. But as he looks at you, with the slow beating of his heart and the brushing of your lips against him, he can't think of a single thing he could want more than this.
"I did not wish for anything," he tells you honestly, giving your waist a squeeze. "I already have everything I could ever want."
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
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Santa's Little Helper
Pairing: Dad!Lando Norris x F!Reader
Rating: PG
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: Pregnancy, other than that none just fluff
Requested: Yes/No
Synopsis: Lando is finally coming home for the holidays and decides to play elf
A/N: Yes I broke my hiatus, don't judge me
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"Ready to be home?" 
Lando lifts his head from the window of his seat and looks at Oscar. They weren't the young kids they were once, long gone the season of '23. Oscar was married with two adorable little girls, Lando having married you years ago. 
"Of course, I miss them." He whispers. The season was finally over, and Lando could eventually join his family back home. You, of course, called him and kept in touch, but it was also hard to travel with a toddler and you being pregnant. 
"Yeah, I'm flying home soon too. Have to finish up here first." Oscar nods towards the McLaren factory. Groaning, they both climb out of the car, stretching. "Just need to get through this and then can be home," Lando mumbles as the two trudge through the harsh Woking winter. Oscar sighs when the intense heat of the building hits their faces, which makes Lando melt. 
"Hurry up, I've got to get back to London before Y/n and Theodore get home." Oscar rolls his eyes as he follows Lando through the factory to the meeting room. 
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Zak knew it was useless to get Lando to focus on the meeting. The older driver needed to be more focused on checking his phone every once in a while. Everyone knew you were out of town and still believed that Lando was in Dubai instead of home in England. Zak could tell that Lando was losing his patience as his knee tapping got quicker and louder. Yep, Zak was ending this now. 
"Alright," The CEO claps his hands and stands up, patting Andrea on the back and letting him stop talking. "I think we've had a very long season and year with that," Lando didn't wait as he grabbed his stuff and rushed out of the room. "Have a wonderful holiday." Zak sighs, Oscar chuckling, holding his own phone and leaving. But Zak can hear his voice pick up and the screams of delight from the speaker. 
"Well, see you in January." Andrea laughs and pats Zak on the back, walking out. 
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" Just, can you please try and delay them?" Lando begs into the phone. Your mother laughs as Lando frantically rushes around your home in London. He only had enough time to sort this out and needed you to be stalled. "Lando, darling, only so much I can do." Your mother chuckled, but her voice grew quiet when you passed by. 
"Mom? Who are you talking to?" Lando stills, holding his breathing, thinking that you'd be able to tell it was him through that. "Your aunt sugar plum, want to talk to her?" Lando can practically see your nose scrunching up as you quickly say no and walk away. Sighing in relief, Lando rushes, looking for the rest of the Christmas decorations and the new ones he's bought. 
"Really? Calling me the Aunt, that's your sister Ma." Lando teases, and your mother snorts. "That old bat will talk Y/n, poor ear off. So, why should I help you?" Lando rolls his eyes. Your mother and he constantly pick on one another, but it is filled with love. "How about I'll let you hold the baby after Y/n and I?" "Deal, I'll hide the car keys." She hangs up, which has Lando cheering. 
Stopping, he looks down at his feet and smiles, dropping to his knees. "Well, buddy, we better get started." Your English Cocker Spaniel, named Cookie. Cookie barks loudly and licks Lando's hand. "Good girl," Lando stands and looks around. "First, let's set the mood." Walking over, he hooks his phone up to the speakers and smiles as Frank Sinatra's voice fills the house. 
Lando doesn't start decorating right away. Instead, he starts cleaning the house. You were about 7 months pregnant, and it was hard to do some house chores. He wanted to show you how much he loves you. Lando wasn't one with words; more actions and giving. Moving through the house, he pushes open his son's room and smiles. 
Theodore loved Formula 1 and Marvel. His room was nothing but decked out in its merchandise. A picture of you and Lando holding him in front of his McLaren and then one giant group, one with all his uncles. Theodore's room was covered in his toys, and Lando gets to work. Putting up the toys and grabbing one of his shopping bags, he strips the bed of its sheets. He got these cute little snowmen for the sheets. Theodore matched the sheets with the identical snowmen for the comforter he got. 
He grabs another bag and takes out mini decorations. A little fake tree with Marvel and f1 ornaments. He gets to work setting it up. He hums along to the song with Cookie at the foot of the bed, watching Lando. A mini navy blue tree skirt covers the bottom of the tree and places fake gifts there. Next, Lando hands up some little fairy lights on the wall behind the bed. He puts a moose, snowman, elf, and Santa stuffies on the corner and then two red and green pillows on the bed. 
Lando finishes it by hanging up a little zipline with an Elf on it and flying over the bed with a remote. "Alright, time for the main room." Cookie whines but happily follows Lando through the house. 
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"Momma, hungry," Theodore whines as you pull up the driveway. "I know, babes, we'll eat when we get inside. It's been a long day. The baby was kicking your bladder. Theodore wanted nothing more than his Daddy. Lando wasn't answering his phone, and then your mother hid your fucking keys. "Hungry," Theodore whines, helping him out of the car; you just nod. 
"Come on, I'll make you some nuggies." Theodore smiles at you as you open the front door and freeze. There greeting you was your Christmas tree covered in soft lights, ornaments, and gifts already wrapped and under the tree. "Wha," "Hey, dinner is ready." You turn your head to see your husband wearing a Mrs. Clause apron. "Lando?" Your husband smiles, and Theodore gasps. 
"Mommy, Santa was here." Theo giggles and points at the gifts. "Um, excuse me, little man? Aren't you happy to see me?" Theo squeals louder, running toward his father and swinging him up Theodore, babbling happily. You clear your throat, trying to gain control of your emotions, but you can't notice that the house is also clean. "Lando," You whisper, hand cradling your belly. 
He gets that tooth-goofy smile of his and walks over and hugs you. "Mommy, Daddy is home," Theodore whispers, which makes you laugh through your tears. "Yes, buddy. Daddy is home." Lando snorts, wanting to make a joke but doesn't. "Alright, there are nuggies and some mac and cheese that's getting cold." Theodore wiggles out of his father's hold and zooms into the kitchen. Lando chuckles but stops when you pull him down, kissing him deeply. 
Lando moans as he pulls you in and dips you slightly before pulling you back up. "Well, hello to you too." He grumbles, blinking his eyes open as you push back his unruly curls. "I'm guessing that wasn't my aunt talking to my mother earlier?" Lando blushes and looks away. "No idea what you're talking about." You giggle and kiss him on his cheeks, smiling. 
"Why'd you do all this?" Lando pulls back, needing clarification on your question. "Baby, you're growing our baby, and besides, I love you and wanted to make things easier for you. I'm your husband. This is the bare fucking minimum. The dishes are done, the laundry is folded, the sheets are all clean, and dinner is cooked. Now, let's eat our nuggets before Theo, the little gremlin, eats them all." Nodding, you head into the kitchen, seeing Theo stare hard at his plate. 
"Theo, you could've started." You push back his hair, and he shakes his head no. "Daddy is home, but the elves still might be here. Have to be good." Lando snorts and plates your food, and your mouth waters and sit down. "That's right, Theo, better be good, or I'll bring back the elves." Rolling your eyes, you knew the elves were no more than Carlos, Charles, Max V, Max F, Oscar, and Daniel. 
"Yeah, the elves." You remark, and Lando cuts you a glare, but it is playful. "Hey, the elves are the ones who got all the gifts. Don't be mean to the elves." "Yes, and you were all wonderful little helpers." You smile, and Lando slowly pushes back the evidence of the others helping him. 
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aperrywilliams · 8 months
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Little Big Secret (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: You’re 36 weeks pregnant with Spencer’s baby. What happens when you are about to give birth and need to contact Spencer while he is in a case out of town?
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Pregnancy and labor symptoms are described. Some strong words. If I missed something, let me know. It's a fluffy one. Dad!Spencer coming to light. The chaotic trio I love having their moment (Reid-Morgan-Prentiss).
A/N: I wrote this fic based on this request. I loved doing it! Let me know what you think.
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Being 36 weeks pregnant and stuck in your apartment trying to convince your non-born baby girl to stop kicking your guts is not funny. It's worse when the same scenario occurs at 3 am, and you are alone, unable to sleep in the last 24 hours, exhausted and sentimental because your boyfriend Spencer isn't home.
You won't tell him that, though. You convinced him to go with the team to Trenton for a case, telling him you would be okay and that baby girl Reid won't be here for at least two weeks. That's what your doctor said to you in the last appointment.
Reluctantly Spencer agreed, making you swear you would call him or your sister if anything happened.
"Relax, baby. Everything will be okay. We'll be here when you return from your case," you assured him. "You have to go while you can. Once this girl is born, you'll be stuck here and will get tired of us," you giggled. Spencer's eyes widened.
"What? No! Get tired of you? Never!"
"About that. Do they know why you are taking leave in the next weeks?"
"Not really. Hotch knows, but the rest assume I'll go to see my mom," your boyfriend shrugged.
You still find it unbelievable that the best-known profilers in the country haven't noticed one of their own has a girlfriend for three years and a baby on the way.
At first, you had your apprehensions about why Spencer didn't want his team to know your existence. You thought maybe Spencer felt embarrassed because of you or didn't consider your relationship worth enough for them to know. But your boyfriend assured you it was anything but that. He told you what happened to Haley, Hotch's wife, and the multiple times a team's family member has been exposed to danger because of their job. He wanted you safe. He wanted to protect you.
The only one who knew about you was Hotch, Spencer's boss. But he, better than anyone, could understand Spencer's reasons, so he hadn't said anything.
You understood it and accepted it, even if you both knew that at some point, your secret would not be a secret anymore. For now, it was safer like this.
Exhaustion was all you got now, and even you have been trying to bribe your unborn daughter with chocolates if she behaved and let you sleep. It seemed you succeeded as she stopped making a party in your womb.
You fall asleep thinking about how your life has changed in the past years and how happy you were despite how uncomfortable pregnancy was at this point.
The next morning you woke up feeling a little better. Sleep helped, but your body was still tense, so you thought a warm bath after breakfast was a good idea to relax your sore muscles.
You were finishing your pancakes when Spencer called you.
"Hey, baby!" You greeted.
"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?"
You didn't have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable you were last night.
"Good. Everything is good here. How is the case?" You tried to direct the topic to him. Spencer sighed.
"I think we are close to catching the unsub, but it had been hard," he confessed.
"I know you'll get him soon," you assured him. Spencer chuckled. He loved how you were always rooting for him. You were his biggest fan.
"I hope so. And you? Our baby girl has been good? When I come back-" he didn't even finish the sentence when someone called his name in the distance. 'Reid! We need you now!'
A heavy sigh left Spencer's lips.
"I'm sorry, love. I got to go," he mumbled into the receiver, guilt dripping from his voice.
"Hey, it's okay. Don't apologize and go to catch the bad guy," you encouraged him.
"I will. I love you so so much. And I love our little one. I promise to make it up to you both, okay?"
"I love you more. We'll be waiting for you."
Despite your efforts to relax during your bath, it seemed baby Reid had other plans, like moving and squeezing your insides. You tried singing to her, telling stories, and everything that came to mind.
You gave up and hopped off the tub. You dried your body and decided to watch some TV. After a while, stuck in a random show, the noise lulled you to sleep without noticing.
Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that an intense pain woke you up suddenly. You didn't know the time, but the TV was still on. You tried to sit on the sofa, but the pain wouldn't leave you, so much so that it was hard for you to breathe. The twisting in your belly was stronger than you'd ever felt and scaring you.
"My sweet girl, I know you're eager to see us, but you have some days left in Mommy's womb, so try to be nice, okay?" You panted, trying to reason with your baby.
You weren't ready to give birth, let alone without Spencer.
But, again, baby Reid had her own plans.
Another sharp pang made you slouch on the sofa; this time, you felt something warm running down your legs. You looked down and saw the liquid drip onto the couch and slide to the floor.
Fuck. Your water just broke.
-
The morning was a rush for the whole team and the Tremont police. After an anonymous tip, they located the guy who fitted the profile and ended up being the unsub they were looking for. As he had a hostage, the team moved quickly to the warehouse where he kept captive his ex-girlfriend, the source of his rage. Before things went further, Rossi's shot ended with the unsub screaming in pain and the hostage a nervous wreck but unharmed.
Spencer couldn't believe it took them a whole week to locate the bastard, but it was finally done. So they returned to the precinct to wrap the last details and go home.
Spencer was pulling the case photos off the board when his phone started ringing. He saw it was you and hastened to answer. Usually, you didn't call him while he was working.
"Hello?"
But a loud grunt came to his ear instead of your sweet voice. Spencer's eyes widened.
“(Y/N)? Is that you?"
You barely could say a word, the intense pain reducing you to heavy breathing and whimpers.
"Spence-" you managed to say. "The baby. It hurts."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening."Where are you? What's wrong? Where is Tania?"
Too many questions, and you had answers for all of them. But it was difficult to say a word with the pain cursing your body. After the contraction subsided, you could speak.
"My water broke. I'm home, and Tania doesn't answer. I don't know- ahhhh, fuck!!!"
Shit. You were in labor and alone at home. Spencer wanted to throw up.
"Baby, listen to me. I will call 911, but I need you to breathe, okay?"
"No! Spencer, don't hang up. I need you," you cried.
Spencer paced frantically in the room as Emily, Morgan, and Rossi looked at him, worried.
To call 911? Who the hell was he talking to?
"Reid? What is it?" Morgan tried to get his attention, but Spencer's brain was trying to make a plan to help you without stopping talking to you.
“(Y/N), please. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, please?"
JJ and Hotch entered the room at that moment. Both frowned when they saw Spencer pacing and the rest standing and waiting to know what was going on and what to do to help Spencer.
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"
You couldn't reply to him, crying in pain instead. Spencer thought he could die of panic.
"Yes. But I can't move," you sobbed.
Hotch didn't need much to understand what was going on. Grabbing his phone, he called Penelope.
Spencer was reduced to dumb and didn't know what to do.
"Garcia, I need you to call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to..." he paused and looked at Spencer, who was talking to you. "Reid," Hotch named. When he got no response, he tried louder. "Reid! Where? Where is she?" Spencer's face found Hotch's.
"At my place," he told his boss.
"Garcia, an ambulance to Reid's address. Report a pregnant woman in labor that needs to go to the hospital. I need you to go there too. Make sure she gets to the hospital alright. I'll give you more information later."
Pregnant woman in labor at Spencer's address?
Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi shared the same confused looks.
"Baby, the help is on the way. Penelope knows and will help you to go to the hospital. She has a key, so don't worry. I'm on my way, okay? I'll call Tania too," Spencer informed you, moving to collect his things.
"Please, hurry up," you begged. As the call ended, Spencer turned to see his boss.
"Hotch. I have to-. I need to-," Spencer stuttered. Aaron nodded.
"It'll be okay; we are leaving now," he assured Spencer.
Morgan was the first to bring the elephant in the room.
"Can you tell us what's going on?"
Then, Spencer noticed the team hearing the whole ordeal.
"Uh. My 36-week pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to my daughter right now, and she's alone. I need to be there," Spencer succinctly explained as he dialed (Y/N)'s sister's number again without luck.
To say the team was shocked was an understatement. But there wasn't time to ask questions. They needed to move quickly.
Hotch was who took the lead.
"Morgan, you'll drive to the hospital with Reid and Prentiss now. I'll stay with JJ and Rossi to pack everything and follow you. The drive to DC is about three hours; make it two. I'll take care of the traffic police," he said to Morgan, who nodded, grabbing the car keys. "Prentiss, you'll get an open line with Garcia while she joins (Y/N) and takes her to the hospital. Now go!" Hotch instructed, now patting Spencer's back. "You'll get on time. Go," he told Spencer, who nodded and stomped from the room, followed by Morgan and Prentiss.
-
"Hey, Reid. We'll make it, kid," Morgan assured while driving on the highway, Emily as the copilot. In the back seat, Spencer couldn't stop bouncing his leg, worried about if the ambulance had already taken you to the hospital. On cue, Emily's phone went off.
"Garcia, you're on speaker," Emily announced.
"My lovelies, good news. I got your girl, boy Wonder, and we're heading to the hospital. Besides the pain, she's fine," Garcia recounted, and Spencer could breathe again.
"Can I talk to her?" Spencer asked.
"No, yet; they have her in the stretcher and with oxygen while monitoring her, but as we reach the hospital and will get her admitted, we can call you again. Nonetheless, she asked me to tell you she hated you for putting a baby in her. I really like this girl already," Garcia quipped, making laugh Emily and Morgan. Spencer's cheeks flushed.
"Garcia?" He sheepishly asked. "Can you tell her I love her and am on my way?"
Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other briefly. They still couldn't believe what was happening, but either way, they had a mission to accomplish: get to the hospital before you gave birth, so the resident genius could see his baby born.
"Sure thing. I will. I'll keep you posted," Garcia assured before hanging up.
Spencer could sense that Emily and Morgan were itching to cover him with questions, but knowing his nervous state, they were respectful enough not to say anything.
"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't tell you anything about (Y/N) before," he mumbled.
"And the baby," Emily added with a non-malice tone.
Spencer's face fell with embarrassment. They were his family, after all. And he kept this little big secret from them.
"But we get it, Reid. We do," Morgan ensured.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. We all know this job, and we want the best for our loved ones, keeping them safe," Prentiss said, turning to see Spencer, who nodded. "What I still can't believe is that you kept us in the dark for three years, and none of us ever suspected a thing. They should fire us," Emily added, making Spencer chuckle.
"What I can't believe is you were able to make someone fall in love with you," Morgan quipped, smirking and gaining a slap on the arm from Prentiss. "And get her pregnant! You have been having a game all this time, and I still thought I needed to be your wingman," Morgan scoffed.
"Worst wingman on earth. He had had to do all the work for himself," Emily added. The three laughed.
They were still with an ETA of one hour when Penelope Facetimed.
"Garcia! How is she?" Spencer rushed to ask.
"Hello to you, genius," Penelope greeted. "(Y/N) is already in a room. She's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so we're waiting," she informed, turning the camera to focus you on the bed, exhausted but relieved of being in the hospital already.
"Honey!" Spencer shouted as Garcia handed the phone.
"Are you coming?" you asked in a broken tone. You didn't have much energy at this point.
"Yes! On my way now. Morgan is driving us with Emily," he informed you.
"We're almost there, pretty girl!" Morgan yelled from the driver's seat.
You let a wary smile. Spencer only wanted to be there with you so he could hold you.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled.
"No. No. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Spencer hastened to point.
"Our little big secret is no longer a secret," you pouted, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.
"Baby, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is you and our little girl being okay. Believe me; it's the only that matters to me. I'm sorry for leaving you," Spencer sniffled.
"I love you," you said, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"And I love you so much," Spencer declared, wiping his tears.
You both kept in Facetime for a while. Spencer tried to keep you focused on anything but the pain, though it was difficult when a deep contraction raked your body from time to time.
Spencer recited your favorite poems and stories and recounted your best memories together. As a natural thing, Emily, Morgan, or Penelope made questions and comments about the things you or Spencer said. That helped. You felt accompanied, not only by your boyfriend but also by the beautiful people who were taking care of you and him. If you ever thought Spencer's coworkers didn't care about him, now all those doubts are cleared.
"We're getting there in five!" Morgan announced.
"Garcia, please tell the staff Spencer is coming so they let him rush upstairs," Emily requested.
"On it!" Garcia chirped. “The doctor is here, so I’ll hang up. Boy Wonder, the third floor, hall to the left,” she informed before the call ended.
Pushing the brakes in front of the hospital’s entrance, Morgan turned to Spencer.
"Go, pretty boy. We'll be there waiting," the man assured.
"Go to see your girls," Emily added. Spencer’s eyes were full of tears.
"Thank you. Really, thank you so much," he voiced before climbing off the SUV and rushing inside the hospital.
-
The doctor announced you were almost ready to give birth now. Just another centimeter of dilation, and you’ll need to push. After he left, you squeezed Penelope’s hand hard. You weren't sure you could do this.
“It’s okay, pumpkin. You can do it. Spencer is already here,” she comforted you. Garcia had just ended her sentence when Spencer rushed inside the room, panting and looking frantically. When he spotted you, you could see the tears in his eyes.
“Spencer!” you cried. He quickly lugged to your side. Garcia sighed, relieved that he was there. Spencer held your hand now, kissing your temple.
“I’m here, my love. I’m here. I won’t leave again,” he chanted, stroking your damped hair.
It was Penelope’s cue to leave the couple alone. But before Garcia crossed the threshold, Spencer ran to her and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he ever gave her.
“Thank you, thank you. For everything,” he mumbled. Garcia could have started crying, but it would be time for that later.
“Anytime, my love. Now go back to your woman. We’ll be outside waiting.” A grateful Spencer nodded before joining you again.
You didn't reach the last centimeter until an hour later. Spencer stood by your side, chanting praises and pushing away your sweat with a cloth whenever you needed it.
When the time came, you were pushing with all the strength you left, but your little girl wasn’t doing it easy for you.
“Spencer, I can’t,” you sobbed. Spencer kissed your head and stroked your hand.
“I know you’re exhausted, my love. But you’re almost there. We’re going to meet our little girl. Want that, right, my little pumpkin?” he talked now to your belly. The waiting room is full of aunts and uncles, ready to see you. They already love you, even if they didn't know about you until three hours ago,” Spencer pointed, and you let out a little chuckle in the middle of the pain.
The feeling of being cared for and loved gave you the last ounce of energy you needed. In the next contraction, you pushed harder, ending with a loud baby cry. Your daughter was here.
When they put her in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket, you couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful baby in the world—the best combination between Spencer and you.
“You did so good, my love. She’s wonderful, and she’s here with us,” Spencer said, voice full of emotion and tears freely rolling down his cheeks.
You couldn’t stop looking at her.
“Our little big secret,” you cooed. “You’re a lucky baby already,” you whispered to her. Spencer chuckled.
“Should I go to tell them?” He asked you.
“They will kill you if you don’t,” you quipped.
When Spencer showed up in the waiting room, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were there too.
All eyes were on him.
“A 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 19.6 inches healthy baby girl,” Spencer announced, the biggest grin plastered on his face.
The room erupted in cheers and claps, everyone taking turns to hug the new father.
Once everyone calmed down, Spencer cleared his throat.
“I want to apologize for keeping this from you. I don't want you to think I don't trust or care enough to tell you about the important things in my life. It's just- you know,” Spencer trailed off. Rossi patted his shoulder.
“We know, kid. We really do,” the older man assured him.
“Yeah, Spence. We understand. That doesn't mean it’s not a big thing, but we get it,” JJ seconded.
“We are just jealous because Hotch was the only one who knew,” Garcia scoffed.
“Boss privilege, I guess,” Hotch shrugged, making the rest laugh.
“Well, being (Y/N) and baby Reid not a little big secret anymore, we can meet them properly, right?” Morgan pointed.
“Oh, yes! Please! I want to meet my goddaughter!” Garcia chirped, and Spencer looked at her, frowning.
“Don’t look at me like that, doctor. I won the privilege when I held that poor woman in pain,” she added.
“Maybe you’ll be the godmother, but I’ll be the cool aunt,” Emily chirped.
“And I’ll be Papa Rossi,” David seconded.
Spencer shook his head, laughing as everyone on the team fought for a place in his daughter's life.
He was so happy to have you and baby Reid. But now his happiness was complete knowing he could share it, and his whole found family could be part of it.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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court-of-starss · 3 months
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Comfort of Family
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Summary: Your cycle leaves you pining for your mate.
Warnings: Periods, a whole bunch of fluff, Rhys being the best older brother ever.
a/n: Honestly I just wanted an excuse to write Rhys as an older brother. Enjoy my migraine induced drabble!
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Feyre had never seen Rhys look as nervous as he did now, standing in front of the wooden door of his little sister. He was tense as he lifted his hand to knock, hesitating as he took in a nervous breath.
“I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” Feyre mumbled, raising a hand to gently rub his tense back, biting her lip to hide her amusement as he shot her an accusatory look over his shoulder.
“You don’t understand, she’s not my little star during her cycle” His voice trailed into a whisper, “she’s a chocolate hoarding dragon.” Feyre couldn’t hold back her laugh at his dramatics, so scared of his closest family member, his baby sister.
“I assume she’s going to be even worse as you’ve sent her mate off to gods know where.” Feyre giggled, hiding her smile behind her hand when Rhys narrowed his eyes at her and huffed. He took a deep breath before turning back around and finally raising his hand to gently knock on the door, turning the doorknob and entering at the soft ‘come in’ that emerged from the room.
The curtains were drawn, leaving the room in darkness hiding the mass under the heavy black sheets of the bed. Feyre rolled her eyes at Rhys’ hesitation to enter, giving him a gentle shove forward before closing the door behind him, leaving him to face his sister alone.
‘Traitor.’ He shot down the bond, his lips curving up slightly at her soft laugh that he felt through his chest. He cautiously approached the bed, eyebrows crunching together at the small sniffle that leaked from her. He felt guilt swarm him at her pain, her cycles much more painful than the ordinary fae.
“You better have chocolate Rhys.” You growled, your eyes peaking out from under the blankets to glare at your older brother who was now crouching down in front of you. He looked so much like your mother like this, his eyes soft as he examined the scrunch of your brows. He raised his hand, revealing a pouch from your favorite sweet shop in town. He grinned and set them on the night stand, next to your mates’ dagger, the one he always left by your side.
“Thank you.” You mumbled, cringing when another wave of pain travelled through you, your back and abdomen cramping painfully. Rhys frowned and gentle wiped the sweat from your brow, cupping your cheek softly as his talons slipped into your mind to ease some of the pain coursing through you.
“I’m still mad at you, for sending him away.” He sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making himself comfortable, ignoring your glare as he rested his head on your mates pillow.
“It was urgent and I assure you he will be back soon little star.” He had a teasing grin on his face as he bumped your foot with his. “Besides I’m sure he’ll give me enough of a beating when he gets home.” He snickered, he never turned down an opportunity to roll around the training mat with the shadowsinger.
A soft sniffle left you as you rested your temple on his shoulder, taking a few deep breaths. His scent easing your mind slightly, knowing you were safe with your best friend by your side. You could never truly be mad at your brother, a fact he knew and took advantage of often. While most compared him to your father, you always saw your mother in him. In his gentle eyes, in his caring actions, in his selfless actions, in his court.
“I miss him.” You mumbled, tears dripping down your cheeks as Rhys rested his cheek against your hair, humming softly.
“What can I do?” He asked gently, his heart aching at your pain and tears. A sight that he couldn’t stand.
“I just want Azriel.” You sniffled, wiping your cheek on his shirt, not even feeling guilty at the damp spot on his shirt. He sighed and sat up, pulling your head onto his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair soothingly. Humming softly as your eyelids started to droop.
“He’ll be home soon I promise little star.” Rhys said softly, his words sending you into a blissful sleep full of shadows and gleaming hazel eyes full of love and laughter.
-
You grumbled when you felt something caressing your cheek, a soft cool touch that drew you from the sweet dream you were having of your other half. You peeled your eyes open, blinking a few times to clear the fog of sleep. Your gaze snapped to a soft hazel gaze, kneeling next to the bed with a gentle smile was your mate. Your Azriel.
Your lip wobbled as you processed that he was here, your hand lifting from the blankets to hold the back of his caressing your cheek.
“Hey baby.” He mumbled, his eyes tracking the fresh tears now gathering in your waterline.
“Az.” You whined, tugging his hand. He complied, sliding under the blankets and huffing a laugh when you immediately curled into his body, leg draping over his hips as his arm slid over your shoulders to tug you into chest. You buried your face into his neck, taking long breaths of his scent, the smell of home. His palm slid down until it pressed against your lower back, the spot he knew always gave you the worst pains.
“Never leave me again.” You mumbled into his throat, smiling when he made a noise of agreement, the sound rumbling down to his chest. His other hand lifting to stroke through your hair, his nose pressed into your temple taking deep breaths of his beloved mate.
It could have been hours, perhaps days that you spent in this position with him, your body finally fully relaxed. But alas the moment was ruined, by your traitorous stomach letting out a deep grumble of protest. Az let out a puffed laugh, pressing a soft kiss to your hair before sliding you up onto his chest and rising from the bed.
You grumbled unhappily at the loss of the soft sheets and buried your head in his neck as he carried you out into the dining room, full of your loud and nosy family. Nose scrunching at Rhys and Mor loudly arguing over whom had the better hair in the family, you scoffed softly knowing it was neither of them.
“Oh, Az what do I have to do to get you to carry me around like that?” Cassian drawled, waving you off when you raised your head to snarl at him. You glared at his cheeky smile, softening slightly when he winked at you.
“For the last time Cassian, you are not my type.” Azriel groaned in fake annoyance, his lips tipping up slightly. You giggled when Cas held his hand to his heart and groaned dramatically, his own mate rolling her eyes, shooting you a soft smile before turning back to her conversation with Feyre.
Your heart warmed at the picture of your family, all cozied up on the comfy couches in front of the roaring fireplace, laughter ringing through the room as each member of your family relaxed with each other. A sight you had thought wouldn’t ever happen again 50 years ago, the joy and care radiating from everyone in the room was enough to tip your lips up, your pain from your cycle almost completely forgotten as your mate tipped his back with a roaring laugh as his brother continued his teasing.
Your eyes met Rhys’ as he smiled at you, his arm wrapped around his mate as she laughed at something Nesta was explaining, probably an embarrassing fact about poor Cassian. You smiled back, your eyes filling with happy tears as you finally witnessed the love and happiness on his face, after a long life of suffering, the pair of you were finally happy.
I love you Rhys.
I love you too, little star.
Azriel carried you into the kitchen, setting you on the counter as he turned to rifle through the cupboards, he always made you food when you were on your cycle, knowing you loved his cooking.
You sent a pulse of love down the golden string attaching your souls together, smiling widely when he shot a cheeky wink over his shoulder at you.
With the laughter flowing into the room from your family, and the sound of Azriel humming softly to himself as he started cooking, you felt your body relax. You had faced darkness head on and you knew at this moment that you would face it again if it meant that this life was waiting for you at the end.
“What do you mean Helion is hotter than me?! That is bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed from the other room, causing a loud laugh to leave your lips as your mate turned to grin at you, his own laugh leaving him as his eyes twinkled.
Watching you giggle and turn to shout back at Cassian, Azriel knew he would face death itself to keep the glittering smile on your face for eternity.
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beardedjoel · 7 months
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pretty little wife | better now
joel miller x f!reader one shot collection
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series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡
i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡
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How’s my pretty little wife today?
The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  
Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  
You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.
You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.
“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.
“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.
“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 
When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 
Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.
“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.
“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 
“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.
“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 
“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 
“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.
“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.
“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”
“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.
“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.
Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.
Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.
“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 
Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 
“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.
“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 
Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.
“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 
“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 
“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 
“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”
You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 
“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 
To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.
You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.
When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.
“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.
He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 
“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”
“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.
“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”
With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 
He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.
Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 
“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.
“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 
You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 
When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.
“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.
“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.
“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.
“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.
“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.
“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 
Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.
“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.
“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.
“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.
You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.
Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 
He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.
“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.
“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.
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tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x
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angelltheninth · 11 months
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Hi can I request Honkai Star Rail men carrying you like a princess while your in pain because you twisted you ankle really bad?
The princess carry is so romantic, I love it in pretty much every context.
Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, princess carry, injury, worrying, kissing
A/N: I was princess carried a few times in high school by this guy in my class who really liked to show off. It was fun.
Blade thinks about leaving you for a split second, that survival of the fittest mindset still ingrained into him. However in his heart he knows he can't do that, you've managed to win what was left of his heart, the part that wasn't a warrior. There's a slight look of annoyance on his face as he lifts you up and holds you at just a bit of a distance at first to he can scold you about getting hurt and causing him trouble. When you're all better you best be ready for the consequences and he will not go easy on you just because you're his woman.
Dan Heng is by your side right away, examining your injury, wanting to see if anything is broken or just sprained. Just a twisted ankle, its not that bad, after a few days of rest you should be back on your feet, good as new. Until then he will carry you to bed, careful not to touch your ankle even as he sets you down. The only issue if that you don't seem to want to let go of him. You liked being carried around that much? He really hopes you didn't get yourself injured just to experience this, he would have done it you just asked.
Gepard gets really worried about you, not quite panicking because he's seem many things over the years, bad things, but this is the first time he was you get hurt in front of him. Worry not, he'll get you to proper medical care in no time, just put your arms around him. Are you feeling alright? Your face is a little red. He hurries, thinking you might have a fever and that you're worse off then you actually are. The wave of relief that washes over him when he finds out you're okay is only overpowered by the kiss you give him moments after, thanking him for being your personal hero.
Jing Yuan lifts you up right away, he doesn't even look at your ankle, he heads in the direction of his home right away. He's a little aware of the closeness of the two of you, of the warmth he's feeling from you right now but he puts all those thoughts aside for now. Your well being is what's most important to him. He has doctors that look you over but he stays in the room the whole time, casting a thick protective aura around you just from sitting next to your bed. When your leg is wrapped up he lifts is slowly and places a gentle kiss over the injured ankle, trying to reassure you that the pain will end soon.
Luocha knows exactly how to help you but first he needs to carry you back to the little cabin he's staying at in town. Carrying you and hos coffin is no easy task but its only proof of how strong he truly is. He kisses you a few times, comforting you when he knows your injury is flaring up. Very careful when setting you down, almost hesitant because you're holding on so tightly. Don't worry, he'll cuddle up with you when he makes sure your ankle is okay and he gives you some pain medicine for it. His fingers are very gentle as they handle you, goosebumps all over your skin, almost making you forget you're injured.
Welt takes you to the med room on the train because he's not waiting around for the next stop. The room might not be the biggest and he does need to walk slowly as to not risk bumping your ankle into things. He can see you're in pain so while he's princess carrying you he tries to take your mind off your pain by surprising you with kisses and telling you random trivia that he's learned over the years that you might now know. When you get off the train he princess carries you again, even though your ankle is wrapped up and secured. You shouldn't be moving around any time soon, anything you need you either tell him or call him.
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wahta-auqa · 2 months
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Part 2 of Driving the Flash Fam Crazy
Part 1
Danny stops time in his room, needing both a minute to himself and to finish writing an essay. He sits on his bed holding the amulet and thinks about everything not moving. Looking at the clock and watches as the second hand stills and doesn't move. Looking over at the ball he through still mid air. Watches as the fan in his room come to a halt. Now, he collects his books and bag, than begins to make his way to the library, as they were about to close and usually empty around this time.
Another thing about this timeout amulet is that he can't use a computer without frying it. It was just too much to process in such a little amount of time. So he had to stick to a pen and paper basically. So he has been looking up books and websites before timing out and then doing his work. It's the only thing that's been working so far.
As he makes his way through town, he comes across people he's never seen before. A man in an aviation jacket, holding a hand to his ear but not holding a phone. A woman in a crisp suit, standing tall and appears to be just looking in the distant. A couple more that all stand out like a sore thumb in Amity Park. But the only one that gets his 100% attention is several blocks away, who is jogging around and looking into shops, cars and anything he comes across.
Danny takes a couple of steps towards the alleyway every time the man's back is turned. Only to stop when another man comes out of the library across the street and spots him moving. Danny is half turned away from him, but he knows he's been caught as the man shouts out, "HEY!" And that's all he needs to start sprinting in the other direction.
"STOP! HEY, HES MAKING HIS WAY DOWN TOWARDS THE TOWN HALL" the voice booms out, the silent serenity broken, making is sound even louder, warning others, but how many? Than the chase begins as his mind races on what to do.
Danny can kinda track the heavy footsteps that follow and the ones up ahead coming towards him. Turning towards the school, he can spot Mr.Lancer just leaving, Perfect. "TOWARDS THE SCHOOL"
Danny is sliding past Lancer and into the school, Danny chances a look at his pursuers. 2 slimly build men, athletic build that give away that they may be runners. The 3rd is concerning, as he has broader and a quarterback build. He is also stopped running and appears to be flying?
Dammit, Danny thinks. He sprints down hallways and towards the back exit of the school when the Quarterback™️ is just entering there. Doubling back, Danny slips into the Janitors closet.
Danny waits and listens, crouching down and uses his invisibility to be unseen. Just in time too, as the door is slammed open and the men are looking through him.
"I can still hear him," the quarterbacker whispers to the others. "I followed his heartbeat here." Danny thinks that's concerning, especially as he waves his hand way to close for comfort. Going intangible, through the floor it is. "Wait, don't go! We just hav-" the quarterback seems to understand that he was leaving the room.
Danny immediately goes ghost, staying invisible and intangible. Danny pops his head through the floor to see if they are still there. The quarterback seems devastated as the other 2 pestering him with questions.
"Where did he go?"
"What do you mean you can't hear his heart anymore?"
"Did he die?"
Danny left and went home, repeating a mantra in his head. They can't hear me, they can't see me. And Clockwork, I didn't break any rules. As soon as he's home, he holds the amulet and thinks about time moving again. And it does.
Part 3
.
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harryslittlefreakk · 3 months
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the pact
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summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein
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frantic-fiction · 2 months
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I'll Find My Way Back to You
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Astarion x GN!Reader
Prompt: A century after Tav passes Astarion comes across an artist who is oddly familiar and paints moments that seemed to be pulled straight from Astarion's life.
Thank you to @justporo for letting me use their idea. Go show them some love.
Warnings: Tav's death, brief mention of s*icide, angst with a happy ending
Word Count: 4.6k (Oops kinda went overboard)
Masterlist
“There’s no world I wish to live in without you,”
“My dear Astarion, we will find our way back to each other. This is not the end.”
Over a century has passed—a long, lonely century without Tav by his side. Astarion doesn’t understand how he’s endured, not with the void in his chest that appeared the moment he laid them to rest. The absence of his person, his love, his Tav, has left Astarion once again alone. 
For nearly a decade, he found himself trapped in a state of near-catatonia, a prisoner of time within their empty home. He wasted away, the days blending into one another, each marked by a silent ache in his chest—the void left by Tav’s departure. Tears soaked into the earth of the carefully tended grave, adorned with vibrant flowers from Tav’s garden. He often contemplated surrendering to the sun’s embrace, letting its rays turn his existence to ash for a semblance of peace.
He yearned to end the pain, yet he refrained. He made a promise whispered with heavy hearts and painful sobs—a promise that forced them to confront the harsh reality that Tav would always leave first. Instead of embracing the end, Astarion wasted away, a ghost of his former self, yearning for the return of his love. Change arrived when Tav visited him in a dream; the details were blurry, but Tav’s beautiful smile was etched in memory. The sweet words in that dream eluded him, yet upon waking, a faint lightness settled within him. Astarion graced the night with a flicker of energy for the first time since Tav’s passing.
Tav would have wished for him to move on. They would have wanted him to live. The stagnant life he clung to wasn’t what Tav would want for him. So that day, Astarion gathered his essentials into a bag and set forth as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. Only momentarily stopping to bid his love a final, tearful farewell. Since that moment, he hasn’t stopped moving.
Astarion believed Tav would take pride in the life he’s built—the good he’s accomplished over the many years. He traversed all over Faerun, from Waterdeep to Skull Crag, never lingering in one place for too long. He wasn’t the hero Tav was, but he aided towns against monsters, dispatched goblins, and took odd jobs to help however he could. Throughout his travels, he dedicated most of his time to sharing stories of Tav, ensuring their memory lived on. When he first heard the bards’ songs recounting the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, he knew he had succeeded. Now, you can’t sit in a tavern without hearing tales and melodies about Tav.
Every day, he longed for Tav to be by his side. He yearned to feel their soft skin, experience their tender kisses, and sense their warm arms encircling his waist—the echo of their laughter dancing in his ears. He missed every aspect of Tav and would do anything to see them again. Yet, the world ran out of miracles for him. Instead, he learned with time to cope, to come to terms with their absence, and keep them close to his heart. 
***
Astarion traverses the dusty cobblestone of Wyrm’s Crossing and finds himself back in the heart of Baldur’s Gate—a city he’s consciously avoided for most of the century. It’s a place drenched in memories from his past life with Cazador, but mostly, the streets seem to be haunted by the presence of Tav.
His return to Baldur’s Gate remains shrouded in mystery. All he can discern is that he awoke one day in Daggerford, gripped by an inexplicable yearning to revisit the city. A compelling force tugging him down the Sword Coast, Astarion initially dismissed it as mere homesickness, scoffing at the notion. Yet, the persistent thought lingered, infesting his mind until he could no longer ignore the instinct to return.
The city remains strikingly unaltered despite the passage of time and the trials it endured. The same piss-stained cobblestone, alleyways cluttered with remnants of urban life, and a diverse array of inhabitants navigating the night. It’s an unsettling constant, especially juxtaposed against the transformation of Astarion’s existence.
Wandering through the back alleys and side streets, Astarion meanders aimlessly. Occasionally, a sight triggers memories, evoking a lump in his throat. The Elfsong Tavern, once familiar, now bears a different name and identity, a formal establishment concealing the echoes of nights spent in Tav’s comforting embrace. Bloomride Park, the graveyard, and the docks—all weave together, painting a vivid tapestry of Tav’s omnipresence.
Amidst the tumult of emotions, Astarion grapples with why he subjected himself to this emotional turmoil. The urge to retreat, to flee Baldur’s Gate before the dawn breaks, lingers within him. Yet, the itch persists, buried deep within his bones, propelling him forward. He silently promises himself the night to wander the city, and by this time tomorrow, he will be on his way to another town for another adventure.
Venturing into a dim, isolated street, Astarion observes a solitary lamplight spilling its soft glow from a store window. Peering through, he discovers a small art studio. Within, a graceful elf seems to dance with a paintbrush, each stroke deliberate yet flowing. Like a harpie song, Astarion is mesmerized and utterly captivated. He watches on silently, observing the elves happily consumed with their work. It gives him a wave of nostalgia, moments of watching Tav as they painted, unaware he was watching from the door. Astarion could almost hear the sweet hums that filled the room between brush strokes. 
Then he freezes, gaze snapping to the paintings that adorn the studio, scattered reflections of his life. Images of Karlach, Shadowheart, and all the others grace the space. However, it’s the depictions of himself that seize his breath. Compelled by an unseen force, Astarion walks right into the studio. In a far corner, he sees an intimate portrayal—an embrace that resonates with familiarity. 
The bell rings, and you break from your artistic trance. Startled, you look up, and there stands the pale elf in the doorway—the hero of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion—the man who has clouded your dreams for as long as memory serves. Startled, you look up, and there stands a pale elf in the doorway—the hero of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion—the man who has clouded your dreams for as long as memory serves.
The dreams began as mere fragments—white curls, sharp teeth, delicate hands. Gradually, they evolved into more vivid scenes—muffled conversations by a campfire, laughter and gentle shoves, and stolen kisses between bed sheets—private moments of a stranger, a byproduct of an active imagination intertwined with an elven crush. Or at least that was what your mother would say. Now, the subject of those dreams stands before you.
Astarion, surrounded by the art that mirrors his life, fixates on a miniature portrait. The details are hazy, yet he recalls the campfire, the desperation in his gaze, and a significant confession followed by an embrace.
You pick up a fallen brush with a trembling hand, placing it in a water cup. Asterion was just as breathtakingly beautiful as your dream portrayed, but to see him in person has your heart hammering in your chest and your breath quickening with nerves. Wiping paint-covered hands on your smock, you took a deep breath and gathered the courage to approach Astarion. 
Staring at the portrait, you utter quietly, “This one’s my favorite. Though I wish I could have captured the others’ images better.”
“Tav.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The person you painted. My partner Tav, they used to paint too,” Astarion’s voice carries the weight of unspoken emotions.
“Oh, yes. They were the leader of your group, if I remember correctly. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Astarion remains silent, the canvas now a source of unbearable memories. He moves through the studio, examining the art up close. It’s weird to have your muse perusing around your gallery. It’s embarrassing to have Astarion see just how many pieces have been dedicated to him. What do you do at this point? Should you follow him, tell him about each piece and the dreams behind them? No, that seems pretentious, so you retreat to the canvas you’ve been working on for the better part of the week.
This piece was different—a symbol rather than a person or scene. Rings of unknown runes fan out in jagged edges, evoking a sense of beauty tinged with profound sadness. It disturbed you to your core, but you needed to paint it. It’s how it always goes. Once a dream pops into your head, whether it’s a scene, a person, or a symbol, it refuses to leave until you’ve laid it on a canvas. Picking up the brush, you dip it back into the red paint and continue to bolden the lines. 
“Who are you?” Astarion’s voice is right behind you; you jump, knocking a pot of paint over. Cursing softly, you quickly right the pot, attempting to salvage the spilled paint. Paint isn’t cheap, and in your non-upper-class circumstances, every drop is precious.
“Oh, I’m sorry; I have been very rude,” you offer your name. “I, of course, already know you, Astarion. It’s hard not to come across the tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, but I guess—” Your rambling trails off pathetically as something changes in Astarion. There’s tension in his shoulders, a coldness in his eyes. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nervously play with a loose thread on the smock.
Astarion scrutinizes you with a piercing gaze, his eyes lingering on your face as if searching for hidden truths. The air becomes taut, charged with an almost palpable intensity. Then, as if propelled by an unseen force, he reacts like a tightly wound rubber band snapping. Reaching out, he harshly pulls you to him, bearing his teeth at you. Your stomach drops, shocked by the aggression. 
“Have you been following me? Stalking me?” His voice carries a storm of anger, his grip on your shoulders unyielding, the coldness of his touch akin to ice piercing through the fabric of your being. “Don’t lie to me because I’ve shown one person that fucking scar, and I buried them.”
Your heart races, fear coursing through your veins as you whimper a response, tears welling up in your eyes. “I-I don’t know, I’m sorry,”
“Don’t lie!”
“Please, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know; I have dreams; I don’t know why, b-but I dream of you,” your voice falters, and your vulnerability is laid bare. “I dream of you, your friends, and places I’ve never been. I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I promise.”
As abruptly as his hands seized you, they vanished, leaving you stumbling to your knees, unable to contain the torrent of tears streaming down your face. Curling in on yourself, you can’t stop the cries of apologies and promises of never picking up a brush again, of burning every last piece in the room. 
Astarion looks down at you, his expression shifting from anger to a complex amalgamation of horror and something else—perhaps realization. Stepping away, he leaves you rooted to the spot. Your gaze fixed blankly out the window. Odd and conflicting emotions swirl within you—fear, confusion, longing?—all clashing fiercely. Amidst the tumult, one thought emerges with undeniable clarity—this won’t be the last time you see Astarion.
*
Astarion’s breaths come in ragged gasps as he runs through the barren streets, escaping the grasp of the haunting memories that threaten to consume him. His thoughts are a raging storm, and he pays no heed to the bewildered faces of those he rudely pushes past. The town of Rivington is a blur as he sprints through it, a desperate escape, picking a direction and refusing to stop until his body aches, halting only when the sun begins its ascent above the horizon.
In his frantic need to run, there was no consideration for shelter from the sun’s relentless rays. Mercifully, he stumbles upon an abandoned cave. Dry, dusty, and shrouded in darkness, it becomes his refuge. In a corner, he sinks slowly against the cool, rough wall to the ground, seeking solace in the obscurity.
Astarion pulls his knee to his chest, pressing his forehead against his crossed arms. Shaking and shivering, a stark contrast to the bitter summer heat enveloping the cave, he clings to his vulnerability. Eyes shut tight, jaw clenched, fingernails dig deep into his arms as if attempting to anchor himself in the reality that threatens to crumble around him.
Desperation claws at him, and he yearns for Tav. The desire to feel Tav’s warm embrace, hands crossing over his chest, pulling him close, torments him. He longs for the soft whispers of love and the gentle press of lips. Astarion can’t navigate this without Tav. He’s a mess, barely holding on, living each agonizing day, acutely aware that the best part of him is gone, and he can do nothing to reclaim it.
The cruelty of encountering such intimate moments from his past life with Tav wounds him deeply. These were moments meant for him and Tav alone. Realizing that a stranger could capture those cherished memories intended for one person alone turns his stomach.
Anger becomes a conduit for his overwhelming emotions, and the terrified look on the artist’s face is etched in his mind, an indelible scar on his conscience. Shame burns within him, a searing reminder of the boundaries he violated. Physically assaulting someone in their own space—what would Tav think of him now?
The artist adds another layer to Astarion’s confusion. The familiarity is uncanny—the excited calf raises, the almost-stumbles afterward, the nervous lip biting, puffed cheeks during deep concentration, and the mindless dancing when no one is watching. Every little thing the artist did mirrored Tav, and with all his memories physically displayed, Asterion finds himself lost in a sea of confusion. Why does this stranger resemble his love so deeply?
The bards’ tales of soulmates and reincarnation, once dismissed as mere children’s stories and fiction, now claw at the edges of Astarion’s consciousness. What if? What if Tav found their way back to him? Weirder things have happened in his long life, and the possibility plants a seed of hope within him.
Yet, he forcefully suppresses that hope. It won’t serve him, not now. Instead, he resolves to learn more. By nightfall, he returns to the city, catching the first boat to Waterdeep. After a day and some change, he stands outside the Wizards’ tower, resentment simmering as he contemplates turning to Gale, his best chance at answers.
A groan escapes Astarion as he hangs his head, and a series of knocks echo on the thick wooden door. “This better be worth it…”
The door swings open on its own into a dimly lit foyer. Astarion follows a familiar path, the cool air and faint scent of ancient tomes embracing him. He ascends the staircase with nostalgia and reluctance, each step echoing the countless times Tav and himself sought knowledge and assistance within these walls.
As he pushes open the study door, a scene unfolds before him. Gale is hunched over a worn scroll, graying hair ruffled, and a small pair of reading glasses set on the tip of his nose. The room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, creating an intimate ambiance. Notes adorn the margins, evidence of Gale’s ceaseless quest for understanding.
Gale looks up, a broad, warm smile gracing his features, and Astarion is momentarily transported back to the times when this sage was only a joke he poked fun at across camp. Removing his reading glasses, Gale pushes up from his desk, an air of welcoming familiarity enveloping the room.
“Well, look who the tressym dragged in. How are you, Astarion?”
Astarion stiffens as he is pulled into a spontaneous hug by Gale. The embrace is both unexpected and oddly comforting, a physical manifestation of the genuine camaraderie they’ve shared through the years. Astarion, unaccustomed to such displays of affection, awkwardly pats Gale’s back before gently pulling away.
“I’m afraid I’ve been better.”
Gale’s eyes convey concern and understanding as he gestures for Astarion to sit. The worn chair creaks under the weight of memories and the weightier burden of Astarion’s troubled soul.
“Then sit down, my friend, and tell me how I can help.”
***
Days of tireless research and a network of favors exchanged between magical acquaintances have led them to a glimmer of hope. Though not expansive, the discovery hints at the possibility that souls entwined so tightly may have a magnetic pull toward each other. A pull is so strong that souls can find each other in different lifetimes. Tales have described soulmates experiencing memories from previous lifetimes together, but they were vague at best. The specific remains elusive, shrouded in mystery, yet it’s enough to kindle a spark of hope within Astarion’s lonely heart.
Gale, ever the bore, offers a gentle reminder, “Now, just remember, if you try to force feelings before—”
“I would never!” Astarion’s retort carries a venomous edge, an unspoken warning to watch his following words carefully. Gale raises his hands in defense. 
“My point is the brain is a prickly thing. It’s best not to rush anything it’s not ready for.”
“Yes, yes, you have said this five times already. Would you please activate the portal? I have an apology to make.”
Anticipation hums in the air, a palpable energy that courses through Astarion. A fleeting smile graces his lips, and for a moment, the weight of his grief is replaced by a glimmer of life.
Looking at Astarion with a fondness born of shared trials, Gale responds, “Of course, Astarion.”
With a confident shake of his wrist, he activates the magical circle, and the room is bathed in a radiant glow of bright runes, their purple luminescence dancing in the semi-darkness.
Astarion steps toward the portal, his heart pulsating with trepidation and newfound hope. However, before crossing the threshold, he turns around to face Gale, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Thank you, Gale. I will not forget this.”
“It was my pleasure. Now, I expect to meet this lovely artist sooner rather than later.” Gale’s parting words hang in the air, infused with the hope of rekindling a connection beyond the realms of understanding.
*
Back in the heart of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion swiftly navigated the bustling streets, an air of anticipation accompanying him. His purpose was clear—to reach your studio and beg for your forgiveness. A brief pause along the way allowed him to acquire a small bundle of daisies, a spontaneous choice fueled by the memory of Tav’s fondness for these delicate blooms.
As Astarion approached the studio, a surge of uncertainty clawed at him. Hesitation gripped his every step, the shadow of fear etched across his features. The fear in your eyes during the last encounter was seared into his memory. Had his previous outburst irreparably damaged any chance of reconciliation? The conflicting forces of his desire to see you again and the instinct to flee wrestled within him. Yet, he pressed forward, forcing himself down the street, and there you stood.
The scene that greeted him was a chaotic masterpiece of colors. Paint adorned your cheeks and arms, a testament to the artistic fervor that consumed you. Your hair, a cascade of untamed strands, framed a face that mirrored both exhaustion and creative passion. Astarion had a sudden urge to brush the strands away and press a soft kiss to your cheek, something he often did with Tav.
Your weariness was palpable—shoulders slumped, eyes half-lidded. Perhaps, he pondered, he should postpone this encounter, allowing you the reprieve of rest. The realization that he might be the last person you wanted to see compelled Astarion to take a step back, an unspoken retreat.
But just as he moved to leave, your eyes jumped up to meet his, you froze mid-stroke, and Astarion couldn’t read your expression. He should go. Why did he think this was a good idea? He’s just about to run when you nod for him to come in. Obliging, Astarion found himself standing awkwardly within the studio; you went back to painting. Your brush danced across the canvas, applying a vibrant shade of blue in deliberate strokes. Astarion’s attempts to break the silence faltered, his words dissolving into the room’s stillness.
“What are you doing here, Astarion?” The steadiness in your voice pierced the calm. You tried to hold on to your anger for the man all week. But upon seeing him standing so lost on the street had your resolve crumbling. You can’t deny the mild excitement that fluttered through your veins upon seeing him again.
His voice, momentarily lost, found its way back. “I-I came here to apologize for last week. My behavior was deplorable, and I wish to make things right.”
A wry amusement flickered in your eyes as you evaluated the bouquet, now slightly worse for wear under his tight grip. “And you believe a bundle of broken daisies would win you my forgiveness?”
Astarion, caught off guard, looked down at the bruised bouquet. “Um…well, I was hoping for roses, but they were fresh out.”
A snort escaped you as you put down your paintbrush and approached him. A tentative touch on his forearm transferred the flowers from his grasp to yours, eliciting a shiver down his spine. The longing to reach out is strong, but Astarion holds still as you retreat.
Intently studying the daisies, you began to divide the bundle into two piles. Astarion watched silently, recognizing echoes of Tav’s essence reflected in your actions. While understanding that you were not Tav, the profound sorrow gripping his heart seemed to ease in your presence.
“Half,” you declared suddenly.
“Pardon?”
“Half of the daisies survived.”
“And where does that leave us?”
With a theatrical flair, you pondered the question, pacing the room. “That, good sir, is the question. What is my forgiveness worth? I did luck out; daisies are my favorite, so you’re a step farther than roses would have gotten you.” 
Astarion, grasping the playful undertone, decided to play along. With a hand on his hips and a wicked smirk, he responded, “Well, I am a pretty lucky man. Now, please, I beg, what more can I do to gain your forgiveness?”
You hummed softly, tapping your chin. You keep Astarion in suspense for a moment before you suddenly turn to the man. “How about…I get dressed, you take me out to dinner, and we’ll go from there?”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” The agreement hung in the air, a hope for something more lingering. 
***
The dinner evolved into an evening stroll, a seamless transition from pleasant chatter to playful banter. It was an unexpected evening, but the time spent with Astarion was so easy, so familiar you didn’t want it to end. Reading about the saviors of Baldur’s Gate was intriguing, and dreaming of a vampiric elf held its allure, but nothing compared to the tangible presence of the real Astarion.
Astarion embodied the epitome of perfection – handsome, intelligent, and endowed with a wit that had you giggling all night. He was the quintessential gentleman, the embodiment of every mother’s hopeful wish for their child.
What started as a single date quickly snowballed into a series of enchanting encounters – one date led to two, then five, until you found yourself drawn into his orbit every week. The pace was exhilarating, and being around Astarion felt like being charged with an electric current. It was not just addictive; it was a whirlwind of happiness, and you couldn’t help but revel in it.
If one indulged in whimsical tales, the idea that Astarion might be your soulmate would have crossed your mind. His ability to read you so intimately sometimes felt like he delved into the depths of your mind.
The dreams persisted, evolving into a kaleidoscope of memories that intertwined your moments with Astarion and a phantom era where someone else shared his company. Astarion, at times, would cast glances at you as you transferred another dream to canvas, an anticipation lingering in his eyes. Despite his attempts, he couldn’t veil the disappointment when the visions resulted in nothing more than another painting adorning the wall.
Then, it occurred on a serene spring day, three years since Astarion first entered your studio. The sun had yet to set, and you found solace curled up with Astarion. Limbs tangled, chests pressed together, hands intertwined – a tableau of intimate connection. His cold nose nestled against the crook of your neck, his white curls playfully tickling your nose.
Behind your closed eyelids, soft images of a forest clearing unfolded – Astarion shirtless, beckoning you towards him. Something clicked, and suddenly, the foreign memories that greeted you each night became a mosaic of your own experiences. The floodgates opened, overwhelming you with a lifetime of moments – kisses beneath the stars, laughter resonating around a campfire, and heart-stopping close calls with death.
Astarion often spoke of Tav, a robust and kind soul who played a pivotal role in shaping him. He wouldn’t be who he is today without them. You now knew a bit better; yes, you had nudged him along the way, but his growth was his own, and you couldn’t be more proud. To think of the years he spent without you, the grief he must have had to push through. If the roles were reversed, you don’t believe you would have been strong enough to keep going.
Startled from his slumber, Astarion found your body descending upon his, your hand meeting his chest with firm slaps. “Stop you, little gremlin.” Groggily, he attempted to restrain you in a tender embrace. He was met with your swift departure from his lap. He heard the patter of your feet retreating from the bed.
“You are a bastard, Astarion!”
Fully alert and by your side instantly, “What did I do, my sweet?”
Worry etched into every crease of his face as he cupped your jaw, looking frantically into your eyes. You intertwined your fingers with his, your other hand reaching out to caress the skin of his hip. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.
Astarion scrutinized your face, his eyes delving deep into yours. The faintest furrow of his brows betrayed his thoughts. As if following an unspoken script, he pulled you in by the waist, foreheads gently meeting.
Glistening with unshed tears, Astarion whispered, “You remember?” His voice trembled.
“Yes… maybe it’s all still tangled. But yes, I remember Tav – well, I remember us.”
Astarion’s smile widened, his fangs peeking out, and his lips met yours in a heated kiss spinning the two of you around the room. It was a slow dance of lips as if Astarion had all the time in the cosmos to savor this moment. While you could quickly lose yourself in the embrace, you were privy to all his subtle tricks. You turned your face when he attempted to draw you back into the kiss.
“Gods, Astarion, for three years, you knew and never said anything. I’ve painted you for almost as long as I could wield a brush, and for three years, you knew why!” Another slap graced his chest, and tears trickled down your cheeks, eagerly wiped away by his thumbs.
“I wanted to, my love. The moment I realized I wanted to. But this couldn’t be rushed; you can’t rush the mind.”
“Star, I’m so sorry I took so long,”
“No, stop; you took as long as you needed to return to me.” His forehead rests against yours once more, and the room stands still for a moment. “What matters is you’re here, in my arms, and I’m not letting go anytime soon.”
A choked sob mingled with a chuckle, and you nuzzled closer into Astarion, hiding your face into his neck. “Gods, I love you, Astarion.”
“And I love you.”
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Okay loves, let me know what you think. I've been working on this for over a week and still find some sections I'm not all that happy with, but I want to move on to other pieces. Any and every interaction makes my day.
Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna
926 notes · View notes
nitewingbabi · 7 months
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↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth
2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.
‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 
Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 
It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 
Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 
Unknown Number +1**********
➤ quiet night? 
➤ parents aren’t home. 
➤ neighbours are out of town. 
You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 
Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 
Unknown Number +***********
➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 
➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 
You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 
Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 
Unknown Caller 
You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 
“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 
“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 
“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 
“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 
“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 
“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 
You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 
You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 
“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 
“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 
Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 
It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 
Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 
“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 
The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 
His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 
Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 
It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 
Unkown Number +**********
➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 
➤ leave your window unlocked
➤ i know your parents wont be home
➤ hope you like it rough princess
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sanctus-ingenium · 8 months
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we need to talk about Inprnt.com
Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.
First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.
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(top right print is not from inprnt though)
They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.
Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.
Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.
And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.
Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:
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Note the date.
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Almost two months.
And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.
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It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.
So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.
It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.
As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).
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pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
Under the Influence
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc knows three things (1) wisdom teeth have nothing to do with being wise (2) his face looks like a chipmunk and (3) he really really really loves his girlfriend
Warnings: mention of minor medical procedure
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You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Bleary eyed, you reach for it and squint at the screen. 37 missed calls and too many texts to count, all from Charles.
It’s the big day — your boyfriend is finally getting his wisdom teeth removed this morning. You had wanted to go with him to the oral surgeon but Charles insisted he would be fine on his own.
Clearly, that was not the case.
The phone starts vibrating again and you swipe to answer. Before you can even say hello, Charles’ slurred voice comes through the speaker. “Ma choupinette! I misssss you!” He draws out the last word for several seconds. You stifle a laugh at how loopy he sounds from the painkillers.
“Hi, my love. How are you feeling?” You ask gently.
You hear some shuffling on his end of the line.
“I feel ... so good! I can’t feel my face though. Is it still there?” More shuffling noises. “Yep, still here! Wow, my cheeks are soooo big and fluffy now!” He descends into a fit of giggles.
You grin and shake your head. Your poor Charles is definitely still under the influence of the drugs. “I’m glad you’re not in any pain. Are you home already?”
“Yep! Safe and sound in my bed. But it’s so lonely without you here. You should come over and cuddle me!” His words come out muffled, no doubt because his mouth is still numb.
You glance at the clock — it’s still relatively early in the morning. “I would love to but I have a few things to take care of first. I’ll come by this afternoon to check on you though, okay?”
Charles lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fiiiiiine. Hey, did you know you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world? And you’re so nice too! I’m the luckiest ...” He trails off into incomprehensible mumbling.
You have to press your hand to your mouth to hold in your laughter. Anesthetized Charles is even more adorable than regular Charles. “Thank you, my love. You’re very kind. Now get some rest, I’ll see you soon.”
“Okayyyy, bye bye gorgeous!” Charles singsongs before hanging up. Still chuckling, you set your phone down to start getting ready for the day. Your productivity is short lived however, as your phone immediately starts buzzing again.
Charles is calling you back.
With a mix of amusement and exasperation, you answer the call. Before you can ask what’s wrong, Charles’ cheerful voice exclaims, “I forgot to tell you I love you!”
You can’t help but laugh out loud this time. “I love you too, Charles.”
“Yay!” He cheers. In the background, you hear a woman’s voice telling Charles to stay in bed and get some rest. It must be his mother looking after him. Thank goodness for her help today.
You talk Charles into hanging up and leaving you be for now. As entertaining as loopy Charles is, you do need to run some errands. You eventually make it out the door and head into town. While perusing the aisles of the grocery store, your phone buzzes again. Expecting it to be Charles, you don’t even look at the screen before answering with an amused, “Yes, my love?”
Instead of your boyfriend’s sleepy voice, you hear numerous screams and squeals on the other end. Before you can ask what’s happening, the chaos turns into a bunch of people chanting “Say it again! Say it again! Say it again!”
Your stomach drops. You pull the phone away to look at the screen. Sure enough, Charles is broadcasting on Instagram Live and waving at an alarmingly large crowd of fans gathered below his apartment. Dreading what you’re about to witness, you bring the phone back to your ear. The chanting continues until Charles finally obliges.
“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you sooooo much! You’re the bestest, most bootiful, charming girl in the whole universe and I love you more than racing!” His confession is met with deafening squeals from his adoring devotees. You stand frozen in the cheese aisle, one hand clutching your grocery basket, cheeks flaming red. This is not exactly how you hoped your relationship would go public.
Charles is still slurring sluggishly into the phone, rambling on about how perfect and wonderful you are. You try to get a word in edgewise to stop him but his fans keep egging him on.
“Charles, honey, maybe you should get off Live and rest ...” you attempt feebly.
He gasps dramatically. “Wait, are you my girlfriend? Y/N? Is that you?”
You sigh, resigned to your fate. “Yes Charles, it’s me.”
The screams somehow increase in volume at this admission. Charles laughs with delight. “Guys, this is my girlfriend! Isn’t she the coolest? I’m the luckiest guy ever!”
Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but melt a little at his ear-to-ear grin and heart eyes on the screen. He looks utterly smitten, even in his disoriented, post-op state. His fans seem to be eating it up too, flooding the comments with things like “My life won’t be complete until someone looks at me the way that Charles looks at Y/N” and “Charles is boyfriend of the year!”
You spend the next 15 minutes gently trying to persuade Charles to end the livestream and rest to no avail. He is having far too much fun gushing about you and interacting with his followers. You field a few questions from curious fans, keeping your answers light to avoid revealing too much. It’s clear they are enthralled by this lovestruck version of the normally private Ferrari driver.
Finally, after Charles has told the story of your first date no less than five times, his mother comes to your rescue. She appears on camera and tenderly tells Charles the “show” is over and he needs to sleep. He pouts adorably but allows her to tuck him back into bed and take away his phone. Just before the Live ends, he blows a loopy kiss to the camera and says “Love you, mon chouchou!” The fans go wild in the chat before the feed cuts out.
You slump against your shopping cart in relief. Your phone is already flooded with texts from friends and family who saw the Instagram fiasco. You shoot off some quick reassurances that you’re both fine and it was just the medication talking. Bagging the rest of your abandoned groceries, you check out as fast as possible. There’s somewhere you need to be right now.
Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on the door of Charles’ apartment. His mother opens it with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry about earlier dear, the anesthesia made him a bit out of it as I’m sure you noticed.”
Charles perks up when you enter his bedroom. “You came!” He mumbles happily, making grabby hands at you. You settle onto the bed next to him and he immediately nuzzles into you like an affectionate kitten. His mother slips out to give you two some privacy.
You run your fingers soothingly through his hair. “How are you feeling now, my love?”
“Mmm ... sleepy. And really happy you’re here." He smiles dopily up at you. “Did I do something silly earlier? I don’t really remember.”
You debate downplaying it but figure he’ll find out eventually when the internet explodes. “You may have repeatedly declared your undying love for me on an Instagram Live ...” you say sheepishly.
Charles’ eyes go wide. “No way, really? Wow ...” He blinks slowly, processing this new information. A sly grin spreads across his swollen face. “Well it’s true. I meant every word.”
You kiss his forehead tenderly. “I know you did. Now get some more rest, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
Charles looks up at you adoringly. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you more,” you boop him on the nose.
He giggles. “No way. I love you more-er.”
“Impossible. I love you most,” you insist.
“Nuh-uh,” Charles protests. “I love you most-est.”
You laugh at his stubborn persistence. “Alright, you win. Now close your eyes.”
Charles snuggles impossibly closer into your side and soon his breathing evens out as he drifts back to sleep. You brush a few curls off his forehead and whisper “I love you most-est-est.”
You make sure the blankets are wrapped securely around him and shake your head affectionately at your adorable, clueless boyfriend. Today certainly didn’t go as expected but you wouldn’t trade your Charles for anything in the world.
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