#this is personal but while i put my books back on my shelf after using them as weights i genuinely thought huh. you who else would do this? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livinghostly · 2 months

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i will hold on to you for as long as you let me — megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorryyy the fushiguro-gojo family dynamic was rotting my brain and i needed this out of my system. LOTS of projection of my fear of growing up in this one soz. this was fully meant to be a drabble and it just kept going idk wc: 3.1k angst/fluff. mom!reader has a lot of bittersweet thoughts about megumi growing up and satoru is there to comfort <3 lots of parentheses and lots of repetition

you put on a brave face all day. all week, even. despite the burn in your chest that engulfed your lungs and squeezed unrelentingly. despite the tears that burned the corners of your eyes delicately balancing on the your waterline, one blink away from breaking the surface density and opening the floodgates to pour down your cheeks. despite the non-stop ache of your stomach, churning what you ate every day but still holding the same emptiness as anxiety consumed you.

megumi didn’t pack much, he never held on to many things to begin with. (you always prayed for that to change, for his comfort your home. you prayed he would see it as his own, as well). he neatly folded his clothes into his suitcases and stacked his hangers on top. he purchased a new sheet set for his bed in the dormitory because the one he was used to was much bigger, much softer.

he packed most of his books, carefully picking out the ones that tugged at the nostalgic parts of him, frayed along the edges after many years of re-reading, as well the ones that still had vibrant covers and stiff spines he hoped to finish. you noticed the leather journal he kept tied together– the ink-blotted pages bursting at the seams –sitting on the shelf before he tucked it into his box of personal belongings. it was his third one since living with you, all filled to every last page and used beyond ruin. the rest were hidden between his headboard and the wall. you pretended not to know, after stumbling upon them while changing his sheets.

closing the door to your home felt eerily empty. it looked the same as every day. the couch was cleaned and the floors swept. dishes rinsed and promptly put away. but with your lingering gaze your mind fixated on the dining table set for four, two adult pairs of shoes at the door, one pink backpack slumped on the hook of the closet door with an empty space below. your chest twisted at the lack of clutter, though it’d been like that for some time, with tsumiki and megumi growing older and cleaning up after themselves properly like you taught them. like you wanted. the pride you initially felt with those memories of parenting were becoming eclipsed with resentment and despair.

the ride to school was quick and familiar, megumi knew well what he was getting into after visiting there to train. satoru liked to call them little getaways from megumi’s civilian life, claiming he wasted too much time around non-sorcerers when he could be on missions with his ever-loving benefactor instead.

satoru, who was whining while he laid himself across the three seats in the back of your car. you’d banished him there for such a special occasion, and he threatened to transport himself to the school alone. an empty threat, at best. he didn’t want to miss this.

megumi had sparred with the older students and found himself thrown around the field many times already. he knew his way to the infirmary by heart, he knew where gojo tucked away his most powerful curse-imbued weapons (that were supposed to be under the surveillance of higher ups), and knew what letter-number combination granted him the ginger chips nobody else seemed to like.

you were glad he was comfortable. you were glad he would fall into routine easily after the repeated trips to jujutsu high and developing a rapport with his upperclassmen. you’d waited for the day that he’d truly be part of the jujutsu world and welcomed into a better suited environment for people like him. and you knew he would be great, he already possessed an incredible technique and wielded it like he’d been fine-tuning it since birth. far ahead from most kids his age, you were proud.

still, your gut was sinking, sinking, sinking into the floor with each passing second.

megumi picked his room in one of the far-away corners of the boys dormitory, leaving inumaki and panda heartbroken (panda said he would find a way to organize sleepover. megumi said he would drop out before that happened. inumaki cried– no, wailed at the rejection). yuuta fell into step with you, slipping one of the boxes out of your hands and insisting on helping instead. it was sweet, if it didn’t feel like he was ripping precious time away from you.

but you smiled, and granted his wish. megumi wasn’t complaining, he liked yuuta more than the others. it was a good chance for them to talk more. all of this, a chance, a new chapter, the rest of his life. the thoughts weighed on your shoulders with a disgusting strain traveling to your fingertips.

you were painfully aware you were in your own head, doing this all to yourself. he wasn’t going away, you would still be seeing him, more than you used to when he went to his other schools. he would always be here.

satoru found you in your classroom, while you were organizing the stationary with an unnaturally stiff composure. your arms were tense, he could see the muscles constantly flexing with each of your movements.

your jaw was clenching and unclenching again. you made a point not to look outside, where the second-years were training brashly after successfully moving their things back into their dorms. you made a point not to meet satoru’s dangerous stare as he shut the door to your classroom, as if it granted any privacy with the seven large windows running along the wall that showcased the hallway.

“what are you doing all by yourself, beautiful?” his tone was soft and inviting, begging you to open up and let yourself fall against the cushion of his words.

“um,” you exhaled, voice shaky. you scrunched your face to break apart the tension that had hardened your expression. “i figured i would get a few things ready for tomorrow.”

it took satoru’s long legs two-and-a-half strides to meet you at your desk, where you gently shut the drawer. there were a handful of dated photographs in there, signed with his name and the chicken scratch of two children.

“it’s all ready, baby. we did that last week.”

(correction: you did it. he tagged along for the shopping trip).

“there’s just… a few things...” you mumbled, not finding the strength to finish your own sentence.

satoru gently placed his hand on your shoulder, emitting inhuman warmth that spread across your skin. you leaned into him as he dragged his hand down your arm and intertwined your fingers with the care of handling fine china. his presence brought you solace, effortlessly bringing the walls down that you desperately wanted to wait until you got home to break.

he kissed the back of your hand and rubbed the skin. “you know you’re going to see him every day, right?”

it was embarrassing how well satoru knew you, knew your thought process like it was an extension of his own. he knew your doubts and insecurities, your fears and desires. he could predict the words before they came from your mouth, more in tune with the way you spoke than his mother tongue.

“mhm.”

“you know we’re going to be the ones chaperoning his missions, right?”

you closed your eyes and looked away. “i know.”

“do you remember when he said he’d like to go home some weekends, and have dinner?”

“he said that to be nice.”

“when has he ever been nice?”

you opened your eyes to glare at him, though he was right. megumi was not nice. he was polite. he was too self-aware for his own good, too perceptive of others and their emotions. in all the time that you’d known him, raised him, he made himself smaller for the convenience of others. he walked on his tiptoes for a year and a half so no one else would wake up because of him. he made his own breakfast and bit back his tears when he burned himself. he didn’t ask for things or food and didn’t offer his input unless asked directly. for some time, he was a ghost in his own home.

it seemed as soon as the bits of his shell started to break off, he was being swept away from you by the jujutsu world, leaving you with looming fears that consumed your mind and disrupted your sleep for weeks.

satoru smiled, though it was weighed down with your sadness. “hey, he’s not going anywhere, you know that. just because you’re not driving him home everyday doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

it’s funny, it’s nearly the same speech he gave you when tsumiki started middle school. and when megumi followed those same steps.

tsumiki didn’t make it this far, though.

the thought makes your lip wobble again, and you bite it back pathetically.

“i know. i know that. it’s just that…” your voice cracked, and you shoved your head in your hands. your palms squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the already-flowing tears. “he’s not my little boy anymore.”

satoru’s soothing hands pull you into a tight hug, and you don’t have it in you yet to move your hands from your face. his embrace makes you sob harder, louder as all your emotions from the last week begin to pour out at once. his chest rumbled with your cries, and he tucked you further under his arms as if to shield you from what was making you hurt so much. it was all you.

“baby…” he chuckled, without a hint mirth or mockery. he squeezed you with compassion and adoration. “you know that’s not true. he’s still pretty short, he’s got another growth spurt coming.”

a small laugh slipped through, but was quickly drowned out by your cries.

“he’ll be okay. he’s still here.”

he was so, so warm. he gently began to rock back and forth with you, the heels of your shoes gently clicking on the tile floor. a small hiccup erupted from you as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. the familiar thrum of his heartbeat welcomed you.

“i know, i’m sorry. i know he’s not leaving, or anything… i just… i thought i was ready.” you blubbered into his button-up. surely, there’d be two wet spots where your eyes were when you pulled away.

he swayed side to side with you, staring at the blackboard ahead of him. he nestled his chin on the top of your head, wondering if you could hear the cracks tearing through his heart. “it’s okay if you’re not ready. but you’re treating this like it's goodbye.”

“but what if we don’t get a goodbye?”

“okay, you really are overthinking this,” he pulled away from your embrace, your fingers still digging into the material of his shirt. he brushed away the hair covering your eyes, stuck to your skin by the wetness of your cheeks. streaks ran through your foundation and the corners of your eyes were smudged. “there you are. so pretty.”

it was silly how he believed he could make things better like that. it was silly that he was a little bit right.

“don’t think for a second i’ll let megumi be sent on a mission he can’t handle. he’s going to be fine.”

satoru’s love ran deep. for you, for megumi, for all his students. he fought curses everyday for you, rotted himself with his technique and stitched himself back up in a moment’s notice to fight for you. to come home to you. all of humanity be damned, those closest to him were the ones he fought for, and he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives.

he already towed the line with the higher-ups and their conservative rules and regulations, but he would tear them down if you asked. for megumi, he’d fight tooth and nail to see that he wasn’t being sent off on a mission ill-prepared. under his watch, things would be different for his students.

you nodded meekly, wiping away your tears with one hand. “i hate when you’re right, toru. it’s really annoying.”

he smoothed down your hair and grinned. “i know, just let me have this one, though.”

his sweet murmurs filled your ears, along with the gentle shuffling of your clothes as you made yourself presentable again. you balled up your sleeves and patted the corners of your eyes gently, and he straightened out the hem of your shirt. it was wrinkled, a reminder of how harshly you clung to him.

you smiled at the water stains on his shirt now, and he claimed it was in need of dry cleaning anyway.

neither of you noticed the eyes of megumi and yuuta, both stuck in place at the very corner of the windows leading to the hallway. they had training staffs with them, megumi’s grip becoming tighter as he watched you wipe your eyes and knock your head into satoru’s chest lazily. your shoulders low, clearly drained from the amount you cried.

yuuta was frozen, eyes flickering from you to megumi repeatedly. he found his courage in placing a hand on his shoulder, a feather-light grip. “hey, let’s go through the east wing. i’m pretty sure it’s faster that way.”

it wasn’t. but megumi nodded anyway, begrudgingly tearing his gaze from you and turning around with yuuta.

you stared down the red light of the intersection with a blank face, blank mind. letting it all out of your system had successfully flushed out your emotions, taking the rest of your energy along with it. the car was painfully quiet, but no part of you wanted to listen to anything.

satoru was whisked away by yaga, being delivered another mission he swore would take less than a day. ‘less than twelve hours’, he promised to be back for megumi’s first day. he would make it.

it was dark, and you milked all the time you could on school grounds. speaking with yaga and shoko, running through the still-developing information of missions to be sent on. cleaning the classrooms. the lockers. stocking the teachers lounge. dusting the armory. before you knew it the curfew ushered the students into their dorms.

a ringtone broke through your thoughts, making you jump. though the tune was soft, the sudden intrusion made it much more shrill. you fumbled with your phone in the passenger seat, seeing megumi’s contact on the screen.

“hello?”

“hey, mom?”

it took everything you had left not to gawk. he said it before, sparingly in desperation for comfort. his voice was quiet, a near-whisper despite the fact he was alone in his dorm. like he was nervous.

“yes, megumi?”

“um… are you home?”

you wondered if he forgot something. “no, i’m still driving. are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i just… can’t sleep, i guess…” he trailed off, hoping for you to fill in the gap.

“oh. okay. did you take–“

“do you think you could pick me up?” he interrupted. “and i just stay home tonight? you could drive me in the morning.”

you were quick to dissolve into a smile, pointed at the streetlamp on the sidewalk. sadness struck your eyes but you were too occupied by the warmth of his question to feel it.

“yeah. i can be back there in a few minutes, just let me turn around.”

“thanks.”

he didn’t hang up. neither did you. the silence lived on for a few seconds.

“mom?”

“yeah?”

“… gojo’s on a mission, right?”

you laughed, your hand sliding across the steering wheel as you reouted back to the school. “yeah, megs, he’ll be gone tonight.”

“he’s back tomorrow?”

“yeah, we can leave before he gets home.”

“thanks.”

bonus:

satoru tiptoed through the entrance of your home, brushing his blindfold over his hair and peeling it off his head. he hung it up with his keys, lax arms nearly missing the hook on the closet door meant for him. it was beyond late, and he was tired, but he was home like he said he would be.

he bent down to tie his shoes, buffering momentarily as he caught a glance of well-worn sneakers at the front door. they were as clean as they could be, though scuffed rubber turning gray and the laces becoming frayed where they were tightened most.

satoru made a grunt in acknowledgement to no one but himself, as he tossed his shoes down. he glanced around the living space, cautiously bringing himself to each room with a curious itch to scratch. a third pair of shoes. both backpacks on the door. dishes for two placed on the drying rack.

he was expertly quiet by nature, but found himself avoiding the squeaky floorboards on the stairs and all the way to the hallway. he was greeted with a blue sign, corners covered with dog stickers. the frilly handwriting of tsumiki warding off unwanted visitors with the phrase: “megumi’s room. keep out!!”

the door opened quietly, satoru pushing it open to the limit and stopping before it would let out an ungodly squeak. he insisted on never getting it fixed, knowing it bothered megumi.

megumi had his face shoved in his pillow, a desperate attempt to block out any light creeping through the crack of his bedroom door or the streetlamp just outside the window. he was always a light sleeper, always on edge, sleeping with his back to the wall so if something barged in the night he was ready. it was horrible he thought that way, you always said.

his duvet covers were black and white plaid, per his request three years ago when he begged to be free of the puppy sheets. still, he seemed small, curled up in a ball. his face was released of the usual tension and his light breathing filled the room. for a moment, he was little again.

satoru smiled, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

#spleen writes #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x mom!reader #jjk gojo #jjk megumi #jjk megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #mom!reader #satoru gojo fic #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader

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arminsumi · 5 months

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I Want to Kiss You (4)

You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

2.6k

★ Synopsis : struggling to communicate on an aquarium date.

★ Pairings : fem reader / Gojo さとる / Geto すぐる

★ Content : fluff, lighthearted love triangle

↺ Ch.3 | M.List | arminsumi | Library

すぐるのアパート 9:15 AM

A soft redness dusted Satoru’s face as he vigorously washed his face with a foaming cleanser in the bathroom. Early morning. Very hot. Peak summer heat. And on this stark-bright day he had plucked the courage (thanks to Suguru’s motherly encouragement) to ask you out on a date. You’d agreed with a smile – and the image of your smiling response lingered in Satoru’s head while he got ready for the date.

Satoru looked in the mirror at his reflection and noticed that the corners of his lips were naturally upturned; he was at a genuinely happy point in his life. Ever since you came to visit Japan, Satoru felt like an invisible weight lifted from his shoulders. One he wasn’t aware of before it lifted.

He blinked at his reflection, white lashes quivering.

私は大丈夫に見えますか？

Do I look okay?

He checked himself out in the mirror, observing how his white t-shirt draped over his shoulders.

私はカジュアルすぎる服装ですか？

Am I dressing too casually?

He dabbed cologne on his neck and sprayed it under his shirt to trap the minty-vanilla scent.

When he entered the living room, Suguru took one inhale of Satoru and his nose immediately scrunched up at the minty scent that hit his nose.

「ミント？」 he fake-belched, "Better vacate the area." he said dramatically and went to the kitchen, which was not divided by a wall but just a ceiling-tall shelf panel that you could peer through.

You and Satoru laughed at Suguru's overreaction.

Mint hopped on one of the shelves near Suguru, and then he extended the joke by freaking out.

「私はミント地獄にいる。」 he said. "I'm in mint hell."

Satoru giggled and tormented Suguru with his cologne by trying to trap him in a hug — Suguru was having none of it. Their banter settled down after a few minutes.

Mint was just observing and swishing her tail peacefully the whole time.

"Satoru should put that cologne on you, Mint, then I'll hate you even more!" he cooed condescendingly at the Turkish Angora.

You laughed, "Suguru, it's no wonder Mint hates you, if you speak like that to her."

"Hey now listen — this cat is the reincarnation of a murderer that tried to kill me in a past life." Suguru said dramatically, "See that evilness in her eyes? She's out for my blood."

電車 / Train / 10:00 AM

Satoru used the translator to talk with you during the train ride to the aquarium.

At some point, a translation of one of your replies made him laugh so hard that tears formed in his eyes.

Google translate felt emotionless, so Satoru brought out his phrasebook and tried to speak with it. It looked personalized with his notes. You could tell that he’d consulted the book many times already in the past.

You wanted to look at it closer, so you asked, “Can I?”

“Mhm.” He handed it to you.

You flipped through the phrasebook and read the section names. Basics. Practical. Social – there was a big red circle drawn around a particular phrase on page 140. The romance section.

Satoru’s cheeks burned. He felt a bit caught. He gave you an awkward but cute smile.

What he had circled in the phrasebook was;

キスしてもいい？

The train stopped at the station you had to get off at. The lady over the speaker sounded so sweet that your attention was drawn away from the phrasebook. Satoru surreptitiously took it from your hands and packed it into his backpack.

The two of you boarded off the train, bumping shoulders at the doors and laughing about it.

Satoru squinted because of the sun, and you distinctly remember looking at him and thinking about how attractive he was when he squinted.

Because the sun was blazing so bright, Satoru hovered his hand over the back of your head to make sure you didn't heat up too much while you and him walked to the aquarium.

水族館 / 11:00 AM

Satoru felt a self-conscious feeling kick in when the two of you bumbled through the aquarium together.

Hand gestures flew between the two of you. You shared confused faces which were followed by laughter. It felt like you were playing charades at some point.

Sometimes Satoru would say "uhh" for so long after saying one English word that he'd start smiling and laughing at himself.

He'd end his incomplete thought with "You know?" and you'd shake your head and start laughing, "I have no idea." you'd reply.

Then Satoru would use google translate, practicing each word under his breath.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

While waiting for you by the aquarium bathrooms, Satoru practiced asking "Can I kiss you?" over and over. He paced around and muttered under his breath.

It's not that he couldn't pronounce it, it's just that he wanted it to sound less stiff and more emotional.

I want to kiss you with desperation, not I want to kiss you with dullness.

An old man who looked about ninety blinked at Satoru and wondered why this young man was pacing back and forth while practicing romantic English phrases.

("What are you doing?") he asked Satoru.

("Learning to speak English.") Satoru replied.

("Why?") the old man asked.

("Because the girl I like speaks English. I'm waiting for her right now.") Satoru replied.

("Well, I teach English. I don't think you should ask to kiss her, that’s too direct. If the universe wills it, you two will fall into a kiss and it will just happen.") he advised.

("I don't really believe in the stars bringing people together. I want to kiss her whether or not the universe wills it.") Satoru said.

("You've got it all wrong. The stars really do bring people together. I'm sure the same stars that brought her to Japan will also bring her to your lips.") the old man said.

("... are you a poet, too?")

You came out of the bathroom. The ethereal aquarium light lit your face beautifully.

("Oh... is that girl the one you are in love with?") the old man noticed you.

Satoru looked at you. His cheeks warmed up.

("Yes, that's the girl I'm in love with...") he replied dreamily.

("It's no wonder. Well then, good luck.") the old man said.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

It felt like the aquarium was a whole other world, like a paradise in a bottle corked shut, one which only you and Satoru could exist within.

He watched the spin of aquatic life with you in silence. You seemed captivated.

The back of his hand brushed against your arm.

Satoru's hand trembled a little.

背が高すぎるんです。

I'm too tall.

Satoru had to be tactful about it.

どうすれば彼女の手を握ることができますか?

How can I hold her hand?

He awkwardly bent his knees a little to shorten himself.

Then he poked the back of your hand softly to get your attention, blatantly hinting to you that he wanted to hold your hand.

So you offered him your hand and then he seized it like a treasure being presented to him. His lips grew into a smug smile.

You saw him go red in the face, even in the dimness and blueness of the aquarium light.

You and him gently held hands and stood in front of the tall glass of the jellyfish enclosure.

つまりこれが愛なんだ？

So this is love?

The room was dark blue, but the enclosure lights lit up the see-through sea creatures with a magenta color.

It felt like a sight you could stare at forever and ever and always be at peace; magenta jellyfish pulsing then drifting then pulsing again, their bell-shaped bodies and tentacles behaving like a chiffon dress in water.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

クラゲのようにあなたの愛の中で漂いたい。

I want to float in your love like a jellyfish.

You and Satoru held hands as if your hands were glued to each other.

While exploring the map in the afternoon, he stayed at your side like a magnet. If he lost your hand, he immediately searched for it and held it again.

The summer heat got intense. He sweated more than you did, but even still looked attractive and fresh. To cool off, you and him searched for cold things to eat.

"Uhhh — do you want to eat shave ice?" he asked.

"Mhm, sounds good." you nodded.

So the two of you went on a long, long search for someone selling shaved ice and eventually found one. You zoned out a bit while enjoying his voice.

Satoru mentally kicked himself because even though he thought he was prepared for this date with you, he forgot to bring extra money. He could only get one cup of shaved ice.

"What flavour?" he asked you.

You told him cherry, so he got cherry.

The two of you shared it. It made his lips go red and cold.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

真っ赤で冷たい唇でキスできたらいいのに。それは冬のキスのようなものでしょう。

I wish I could kiss you with red, cold lips. It would be like a winter kiss.

The train shuddered.

You'd noticed that Satoru always kept his knees together when sitting next to you — to give you space. But now after holding hands, closeness was being chased and chased; the both of you scooted closer together and tried to translate your thoughts to each other with the phone.

Satoru typed in:

JPN : 私たちはくっついています。

ENG : We are stuck together.

You chuckled softly in response. His eyes always lit up and he really relished in making you laugh, even if it was just a soft chuckle.

You replied to him:

ENG : you are warm.

JPN : あなたは暖かいです。

He replied to you:

JPN : そう、あなたのせいで。

ENG : yes, because of you.

You replied to him:

ENG : are you flirting?

JPN : イチャイチャしてるの？

Satoru gave you a cheeky smile.

JPN : 私はいちゃいちゃしてます、はい。

ENG : I'm flirting, yes.

You smiled as he continued typing. His thumbs hesitated, like he was nervous about what he was about to type next.

Satoru's heart was beating harder and harder in his chest.

JPN : 頬にキスしてもいいですか？

ENG : ! NO CONNECTION

You both groaned.

The connection kept failing from then on, so the two of you laughingly attempted to communicate by using the outdated pocket phrasebook for the rest of the train ride home.

"Kiss...?" he tapped his finger on his cheek.

You thought he meant he wanted you to kiss him on his cheek, but he meant to ask if he could kiss your cheek.

So he malfunctioned when you leaned in and gave him a small but firm kiss on his left cheek. His ears and cheeks burned.

When you two stepped off the train, Satoru lingered behind you for a moment and grazed his fingertips over the place where you kissed and smiled to himself.

こんなに柔らかい唇。。。

Such soft lips...

すぐるのアパート 9:00 PM

The boys were talking about you at home while you were in the bathroom freshening up after the long, hot day out.

("Satoru, you're glowing. Did something good happen on the date?") Suguru smirked.

("She kissed me.") Satoru told him dreamily.

Suguru widened his eyes.

("She kissed you?!")

("Just on the cheek.") Satoru sighed, ("Her lips were so soft...")

("Were they now? I think you're exaggerating.") Suguru teased.

("I'm not exaggerating! Ask her for a kiss on the cheek, and you'll see; she has the softest lips ever.")

Suguru went quiet and pink in the face after Satoru suggested that he should ask you for a cheek kiss.

("Alright. I'll see for myself...") he mumbled.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Come the evening, the three of you piled up like cats on the couch in the living room and watched an old movie together.

"Seems like someone's comfy." Suguru commented.

You smiled and looked at Satoru; he curled up against you with his noodle-like limbs and fell asleep mid-way through the movie. Your warmth had made him too drowsy and dreamy to keep his eyes open.

"You know, I was worried that we wouldn't have the same chemistry in real life as we've had through the screen." you said.

Suguru let out a breathy laugh and replied.

"Yeah, I thought it would be like that too. When I hugged you at the airport, though, I felt the same spark I felt when we first video-called." he said.

You felt your cheeks warm up the more he talked.

"...spark?"

"Huh?" he raised his brows.

"You said you felt a spark between us?"

Suguru's heart throbbed. He didn't seem to know how to respond, but then he decided to act a fool.

"Oh, did I say spark?"

"Yes, you did! You said spark, I heard you." you playfully smacked his shoulder.

He started grinning so he hid his mouth with his hand.

"Well, I think you heard wrong." he teased.

You looked at each other in silence.

"... hey, Suguru?"

"Yeah?" he replied breathlessly.

He withdrew his hand from covering his mouth and his face became serious.

"What were you two talking about earlier? I heard my name being tossed around a lot. You can't keep gossiping behind my back like this!"

"Oh... earlier? We weren't gossiping. Satoru was boasting to me about how soft your lips felt on his cheek." Suguru said.

"Boasting? You seem jealous." you said.

"Don't prod at me now just because you think I'm jealous."

"I will absolutely prod at you." you teased.

"I'd rather you kiss me." he said.

"What?"

You looked at each other for a moment.

"Not like... on the lips." he backtracked.

"Oh."

"Satoru said I should ask you for a cheek kiss because I claimed he was exaggerating how soft your lips are."

"Well... he's not exaggerating." you teased.

"Oh yeah? I need proof."

"What kind of proof, Suguru?"

"Kiss me."

So you kissed his cheek very slowly.

He felt the press of your lips, and how damn soft they were, and thought to himself;

Shit. Her lips really are as soft as Satoru said they were.

When you pulled away, you asked "So? Are they as soft as Satoru claimed?"

"Soft enough." he teased.

"Soft "enough"?! What does that mean?"

"Soft enough to make me feel that "spark" again." he said.

"Huh?"

You looked at each other with wide eyes.

Satoru made a wakeful noise.

「うるさい。」 he mumbled, then snuggled into you like you were his pillow.

"Oh. We woke the cat." Suguru joked. 「おい、バカ。あなたは映画全体を通して寝ていました。」

「残念な。」 Satoru replied and let out a sleepy sigh.

"Okay, let's get to bed... it's late."

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

★ Tags

@miwanilla / @sukunasdirtylaugh / @coco-cat / @babydiamondblog / @mp3playerblog / @froufrousnowman / @lovesickramblingsofmine / @arminswifee / @instantmusico / @kaechannn / @sabo-has-my-heart / @yoonjinhusbands / @honey-i-will-come-back / @thirtykiwis / @satoruiloveu / @iamthedetective / @melaaaara / @xakilicious / @i-am-the-geek-overlord / @starrylibras / @beanluvsmilo / @kittytoru / @reese-is-right / @rains-mae / @c0pkiller / @baepsays / @hueanhdang / @fuck-imstillhere / @yourimaginaryfriiendd / @alwaysminhyuk / @andromidagalaxie / @vianna99 / @akumakitsune21 / @ducksdoughnuts / @itsnotmelo / @animechick555 / @hypernovaxx

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egcdeath · 5 months

Text

how the cookie crumbles

summary: when you come back home to austin to help your sister with her bakery, you end up in an arrangement with your high school crush that ends up being far more than you bargained for.

word count: 11.5k

warnings: FAKE DATING, au: no outbreak, pining. so much pining and a touch of yearning, idiots to lovers, high school crushes to lovers, very hallmark-romcom esque, fluff, a touch of angst, more fluff, the reader has a sister but the sister doesn’t have a name, joel’s ex is kinda rude, alcohol consumption, cuddling, miscommunication kinda, unrequited love that’s actually requited love, no use of y/n, not beta read.

author’s note: this is my first fic back after taking my several month long break!! i want to give a big shoutout to my texas consultant and biggest cheerleader @cowgurrrl, who encouraged me to write, gave me helpful ideas, and let me dump my brain and my silly little ideas on her whenever <3

For as long as you could remember, you and your sister had been total opposites. As girls, your sister spent her time playing with dolls, experimenting with whatever new hairstyle on your scalp, and eagerly shadowing your mother in the kitchen, while you preferred to spend your time exploring the city on your bike, reading books in your hammock, and doodling whatever had caught your interest in your hourly. As you entered young adulthood, you were unsurprised as your sister married her high school sweetheart just months after graduating college before setting off to start her own business in Austin, while you moved as far as you could out of Texas and began a prosperous career in New York City.

Regardless of the different paths your lives had taken, the minute your sister had even suggested that she might’ve needed help at her bakery, you were booking a flight back home. The holidays were a notoriously busy time for her business, with people wanting cakes and pies to display as their own labors of love at their family gatherings, or to have their children wake up to a dozen expertly decorated cookies under the guise that that was what their Elf on the Shelf had been up to that night.

Given that you had no holiday plans other than drinking Bailey’s-spiked hot chocolate and watching reruns of your favorite season of The Bachelor, it seemed like a no-brainer to come back to Austin. Part of you was excited for your homecoming, to return to the vibrant personality of the city that was a far cry from the east coast city you’d grown to know and love over the years. The other part of you dreaded your return, not feeling particularly excited to have to run into peers from your adolescence while you were trying to peruse the shelves of your local Costco.

You were welcomed with warm arms the moment that you walked through the door of your sister’s home—metaphorically and literally. She practically hugged you the entire way as you dropped your items off in her guest bedroom, then even more so as she directed you to her car, giving you all sorts of updates about your parents and her husband, but not allowing you to forget the whole reason that you’d come home in the first place.

“You’re not hungry or anything, right?” she asked as she hopped into the driver's seat next to you.

“I think I’m good. I ate at the airport,” you replied, slightly amused by your sister’s eagerness to get you to work immediately. Then again, you couldn’t exactly blame her when you thought about how busy she must’ve been.

“Good! I’m gonna put you right to work then. How does frosting cupcakes sound?”

It sounded fine, and it was fine for the first few hours, until the angle of the piping bag started to make the newfound cramping in your hands unbearable, and your sister had to give you an impromptu tutorial on how not to make your rosettes look so… depressing.

“Look, the Girl Scouts need this order in like, an hour, and my cashier is going home in a bit. Give yourself a little break to shake your hand out, or pee, or do whatever it is you have to do, then you can ring customers up. How does that sound?” she finally huffed, clearly just as frustrated with you for your inability to do a task that was practically second nature to her.

“Anything’s better than frosting these damn cupcakes,” you commented as you tossed your gloves into the trash. “If I never have to frost a cupcake again, it’ll be too soon.”

“I love you, which is why I have to tell you that you will be frosting so many more cupcakes in the next few days,” she laughed aloud, looking down at the army of baked goods in front of her that she was still working on meticulously frosting. “But you’ll get used to it. I’ll have Ben give you better instructions. He’s really good at this, for some reason. I’m convinced it’s because he went to art school.”

You groaned dramatically as you exited the kitchen, only to bother your sister if nothing else. After all, wasn’t it your job as a younger sibling to annoy your older sibling?

As much as you enjoyed doing random tasks that your sister needed done in the back, working in the front was definitely one of the better aspects of working at the bakery. There was far less technique involved in doing anything, and when there was downtime in the storefront, you got to passively scroll on social media, turning your brightness down so you could secretly cyberstalk people from your high school in peace.

Being that you were distracted by the phone in your hand, you paid no mind to the shrill sound of the door’s bell as it opened. As you finished up looking at someone’s engagement pictures, you glanced up once before doing a complete double take.

“Hey, I’m just here to pick up the Girl Scout order-”

There was no way.

You hadn’t seen that face in years. Hell, you hadn’t thought about that face in years, despite your mild obsession with him as a teenager.

Joel had been the definition of so close, yet so far. You seemed to always be in his orbit, butterflies in your stomach every time he leaned over his desk to ask you a question about the material or to poke fun at one of the weirder quirks your teacher had. Yet, just as you’d finally worked up the nerve to confess your feelings to him, word got around the school that he was becoming a father. After many pints of ice cream and late nights of your older sister comforting an inconsolable teenage you, you’d finally gotten over the man, letting his memory become a funny anecdote you shared to friends to display your terrible luck in love.

As much as you hated to admit it, he looked good. Obviously, he was much older now, but much to your dismay, he’d aged more like wine than like milk. Donning a new beard that somehow managed to make him even more handsome and biceps that strained against the sleeves of his shirt, he looked far more attractive than you could ever even remember him, his mature look a good one. You were sure his wife loved looking at that striking face in the morning, before she set off to take care of their adorable young daughter. Their perfect little family, still holding up despite the test of time.

You had gotten so caught up in your thoughts, you’d barely registered the fact that Joel had said your name in a tone that held a mixture of excitement and disbelief.

“I haven’t seen you in years! Since high school?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer. The surprise of seeing him, let alone seeing him looking so good led you to smile dumbly and shrug. “Wow!” he remarked.

“It has been a really long time,” you grinned involuntarily, practically feeling yourself revert back to your younger, immature self simply at the sight of the man standing across from you. “How are you? How’s the family?”

“We’re good. Sarah’s turning 13 soon, which is really exciting,” Joel explained, setting a hand on his hip as he did so. You swore you could see the fondness for his daughter as he spoke. “It feels like just yesterday I was feeding her bottles and carrying her around in a sling.”

“I know, they just grow up so fast,” you agreed, as if you’d had any sort of experience in the field. The fact that Joel still had this effect on you, one that made you want to follow him around like a lost puppy and agree with every word that came out of his mouth was mildly concerning to you—particularly because he clearly had a wife and a child.

“They really do. You have any of your own?” Joel asked, looking deep into your eyes and making you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Me? No,” you dismissed before following it up with,. “I’ve been pretty focused on my career, so it’s not exactly the best time for a family. To be quite honest, I think my cats do the trick plenty well.”

“You’re still so responsible,” Joel complimented, stirring something up deep inside of you that you promptly wanted to push right back down. “Clearly, I didn’t do any family planning. I’d say it worked out pretty well, if you don’t count having to get divorced just a few years after getting married.”

This piqued your interest. You could almost feel the teenage version of yourself cheering internally at the news that Joel and the mother of his child had split. She’d always been a bit of a bitch to you, so to hear that the two of them had split had sounded like music to your ears.

“Man, that’s too bad. I always thought you two would be the one couple from our school to make it,” you lied through your teeth, hoping that your entertainment wasn’t too obvious.

Joel chuckled and shook his head, smile lines appearing seemingly out of thin air, and unfortunately making you melt on the inside, just the slightest bit.

“That’s really too bad. I mean, what happened with you guys? If you don’t mind me asking,” you were definitely taking a risk with this question, but you were hoping that the reward of the answer would be worth every bit of boldness you put together to ask.

“We just had… different ideas for our futures,” Joel explained what you could only assume was a very condensed version of what had actually occurred. “You know, she’s actually in town right now.”

“I hadn’t realized she’d left town. Should we keep our voices down then?” you asked jokingly, although it would be quite awkward if his ex wife walked in while the two of you were talking about her.

“No, we’re good,” Joel chuckled. “Sarah really wanted to see her for the holidays, and it wasn’t like I could say no to that request. Although, getting Naomi to actually come was a bit like pulling teeth. I’m sorry, this is way too much information. What about you? Any special people in your life?”

“No, Joel, you’re all good. You know how much of a gossip I was,” you offered him a genuine smile. “Unfortunately, no. Funnily enough, the thing I was dreading most about coming home is having my mom constantly on my ass about bringing home a good man.”

“I get it. It’s exhausting seeing all the PDA whenever Naomi and Henry come back. It’s like they’re rubbing in that we’re so happy together and you’re still all alone.”

“Assholes,” you remarked, rolling your eyes to show Joel just how on his side you were. “I’m sure you’ll find someone someday. I mean, both of us will. Then maybe my mom will stop bothering me and your ex will finally stop acting all high and mighty for being in a relationship.”

“I can only hope,” Joel sighed. “Well, I apologize for dumping all of my holiday woes on you when I really should just be picking up some cupcakes.”

“Oh no, I apologize for holding you up. I’ll go grab that order for you,” you said before walking off to the back, where your sister had just finished putting the final touches on the order.

“Perfect timing,” she remarked, stepping back and running her arm against her slightly damp forehead. “Who were you talking to back there?”

“Oh, no one,” you dismissed, not ready to hear her reaction. “Just giving good customer service.”

The look she gave you told you loud and clear that she didn’t believe you, but it would be a conversation for another time. Since she didn’t seem interested in pressing, you took it as your opportunity to grab the large, pink box, and bring it out to Joel.

“Here’s that order for you,” you said politely. “It was good seeing you today.”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, happily taking the slightly heavy box when you offered it to him. “How long will you be in town?”

“Into the New Year, I think? Maybe earlier, maybe later,” you shrugged.

“We should get together sometime. Maybe get a coffee or something and properly catch up? I would love for you to meet Sarah, too.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you grinned, begging yourself not to revert back to your younger, naive self, but not exactly being able to fight it at the same time. “Well, if you ever need me, I’ll probably be here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as he headed to the door. “See ya!”

As soon as the door jingled, announcing Joel’s departure, you let out a deep breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding.

Fuck. You could not be feeling this way about a man you had a crush on in high school.

Your sister always seemed to have a sixth sense for when you were getting antsy, so one evening as the two of you worked on closing the storefront, she pulled you from the monotony of sweeping the floors while listening to the sound of her new favorite pop artist to send you to the grocery store and retrieve a few items that she needed more of.

With her company card safely secured in your wallet, a short list scribbled out on a pink post-it note, and your hands closely grasping the handlebars of the cart, you amaturely navigated the grocery store, unfamiliar with the locations of the items that lined the shelves after years of not visiting Austin.

The evening in the grocery store brought you a sense of serenity, with the rush of urgent people looking to pick up the one ingredient they forgot for dinner mostly gone. After packing your cart full of sticks of butter and bags of sugar, you headed off to the get your final item, relieved to have had a mostly successful trip without running into anyone you knew in your youth.

But just as you had this thought, you caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of your eye. Dark hair and beard imprinted in your mind after your brief interaction with him just one day ago. You did your absolute best to pretend you didn’t see him as you inspected a bag of flour, keeping your head lowered, and gaze averted. Yet, your efforts were futile, as just moments later, you heard your name called aloud as the man approached you.

“Hey!” he said cheerily, blissfully unaware that you were attempting to use the ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ method on him just moments ago. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, it’s been like forever,” you added on, looking into his eyes and almost immediately regretting your decision as your gut was immediately consumed with a swarm of rabid butterflies. “What’re you doing here?”

“Grabbing some groceries,” he answered sweetly, despite that being the obvious answer to your not-so-great question.

Duh. What else did people come to the grocery store for? What a stupid question. See? Joel just made you so… stupid! Even after all of the years you’d spent apart.

“Sarah wanted to try making some Christmas cookies to bring to her mom, so…” he trailed off, gesturing down at the flour that was now in his hand. “Got any tips on the best flour to get?”

“That’s definitely more of my sister’s wheelhouse. I just do whatever she needs me to do, like go and get,” you glanced down at your list before continuing for comedic effect, “White miso paste.”

Joel smiled fondly at your joke, only making your insides melt further.

“Remind me to stop by and try whatever has that white miso paste in it. Sounds interesting,” Joel grabbed a package of all-purpose flour and tossed it into his cart, before leaning on his cart.

Fuck. Why did he have to be so endearing, with his smile lines and his kind eyes, and his insistence on treating you like you were the only other woman in the world, despite the other woman customer just standing feet away from you two.

“I definitely will. Has your number changed in the past thirteen years?” you asked, not sure what had gotten into you with the slightly flirty move.

He shook his head, his eye briefly catching on something and causing him to pause in his movements before he returned to the conversation, now looking slightly off in a way that he hadn’t looked just a moment ago. You were so stupid. Of course you trying to flirt back would’ve backfired. You needed to excuse yourself before you managed to embarrass yourself any more than you already had.

“It has not,” he confirmed, smiling at you once more, but not looking like his heart was completely into it. “Any chance you’re checking out?”

“I am!” you said a little too enthusiastically, which Joel responded to by somewhat urgently beginning to walk to the check-out lane. Given that he hadn’t told you goodbye, you followed him like the lost puppy that you were around him.

Just as the two of you stopped in line and had mostly finished checking out, Joel finally seemed to unclench from whatever he’d seen (or whatever you’d said) that had bothered him before. Yet, as soon as it was over, you noticed that same tension washed over him once more.

“Oh, Naomi. Henry,” Joel said, his tone taking a complete 180 from what he had just had with you moments ago, and his change in demeanor suddenly made sense to you. “Didn’t realize you two were in town yet.”

You glanced over to the woman who had seemingly appeared out of thin air to ruin your moment with Joel, just like she had done in high school a million times over. Who you hadn’t recognized was the man next to her, looking a little too put together for someone who had likely just gotten off a flight and was headed to the grocery store.

“Joel,” she said artificially sweetly, the one singular word drenched in annoyance. “We just got in. We’re grabbing groceries for the hotel.”

“I didn’t realize chocolate chips were groceries,” Joel muttered to himself as he evaluated their basket. You were slightly surprised by the sass he had seemed to equip out of nowhere, a far cry from the southern charm he had displayed with you in your past interactions. You desperately wanted to leave the situation, which was clearly none of your business.

“Surely, you remember your ex-wife having a sweet tooth,” the man on her side replied defensively, wrapping an arm around her protectively.

“Something like that,” he replied, glancing over at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite read.

With tensions boiling over with just a few words stated, you finally decided to step in, impulse and instinct guiding you.

“Hey honey, I think we need to get going,” you said, internally cringing as the words left your mouth. Joel’s now wide eyes made contact with your unsure ones and your furrowed brows as you attempted to tell him to just go with it without a single word.

The good thing for you was that Joel was a quick learner, and his hand quickly found the small of your back. Something in Naomi’s expression changed, just for a moment, before she went back to her stone cold facade. You hoped that Joel caught it, the same way that you did.

“Yeah, we don’t want to keep you too long, since we’ll be seeing you plenty this holiday season,” Naomi replied, flashing you a fake smile. “I didn’t realize you two were together. I’ve never heard Joel say anything about you.”

You were sure the sentiment was supposed to hurt your feelings, but you were more unsurprised by the sentiment than anything else.

“Some of us like to leave our personal lives personal,” he shot back, glancing at you before bringing his glare back to his ex-wife.

“Well, that’s cute. I remember, you had the biggest crush on Joel back in the day. Glad you two ended up together,” she laughed and your stomach dropped. Were you that obvious in the past? “Anyway, we’re gonna go to a less busy lane. See you at dinner, Joel. And maybe you, too?” She looked you up and down, and for a second you felt like you were in the hallways of your high school once again, trying your best to avoid the passive aggression of a particularly mean girl.

“Right. Bye,” he said simply, watching the pair walk away as if he were scared that they would turn back around at some point and bother Joel some more.

“Fuck,” he muttered aloud as soon as they were out of earshot, his hand falling away from your back and back to his side.

You immediately launched yourself into a rambling apology, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep or anything, they just looked like they wanted to eat you alive and-“

“No, no, don’t apologize. I appreciate what you did back here. I mean, you saw the look on her face when she thought we were together?”

“Oh yeah,” you laughed out, which also acted as a cover for the deep sigh of relief you needed to let out. “Is she always so shocked when she thinks you’re dating someone new?”

“Well, I haven’t dated much since the divorce,” he explained as the two of you began exiting the building. “So I guess I didn’t really know what to expect. But it totally delivered.”

You couldn’t help but smile as the two of you walked out to your cars together and Joel confessed that not only was he single, but that he hadn’t really seen anyone. Not that it really mattered to you, considering that the two of you had absolutely no shot together.

You weren’t exactly sure where Joel had parked, but he’d offered to help unload your groceries into your car, and you weren’t exactly going to decline that offer.

“Thank you, again for helping me out tonight,” Joel said as he helped place bags in the trunk of the car. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Actually, there is one thing.”

—

Every year, you absolutely dreaded your family’s holiday celebrations. Specifically, the celebrations where you showed up without a date, and had to spend the night downing eggnog to drown out the sound of your family asking you when you were going to settle down and bring a grandchild, or niece, or nephew into the family.

But this year, you didn’t have to worry about that issue. After running into Joel at the grocery store and briefly pretending to be his partner, he’d agreed to do the same for you at a family holiday party, and to be completely honest, you couldn’t be more excited.

“Again, thank you,” you said to Joel as he opened the passenger door to his truck for you, politely standing at the side of it as you got in.

“It was really the least I could do after you saved my ass back there in the store,” he dismissed, closing the door behind you before getting back into the car.

“I mean, I couldn’t just stand there and let you suffer,” you explained, glancing over at the man as he settled into the seat and started the car. He’d certainly dressed up more than usual for the event, a nice red sweater nicely complimenting your green sweater, and his hair styled nicely. For a second, you thought about your younger self, and how she probably would’ve given anything for a night like this—to just play pretend with Joel just for a moment, since he clearly didn’t see you the way you saw him.

“Well, I appreciate it,” he dismissed, sending you a quick, charming smile before beginning to pull out of the driveway. “Anything I need to know about your family?”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “Where do I start?”

You more or less talked Joel’s ear off on the drive over, filling him in on family members to avoid; overbearing aunts who would attempt to examine him like a lab specimen, uncles who would try to quiz him on his knowledge of local sports teams, and the occasional family friend, who seemed to be just as crazy as your actual kin. Joel listened politely, taking in all of the information, and throwing in some commentary every now and then, but surely making mental notes on who to try to avoid.

Once you finally arrived at the car-lined street, Joel once again opened the door for you like the gentleman he was, before allowing you to lead the way to the christmas-light adorned house that was clearly bustling on the inside. As the two of you walked up to the porch, Joel looked at you rather earnestly.

“Did I scare you in the car? I promise they’re not all that bad,” you began to attempt to explain, nerves bubbling in your stomach as you thought about how Joel surely wanted to go home.

“No, no, you didn’t scare me,” he assured you, reaching over to brush a stray hair out of your face. “I just… I never got the chance to tell you how good you look. I wanted to say something when you first got in my car, but I guess I got scared. You always look good, but you kinda took my breath away.”

Fuck, you internally groaned. Why did he have to tell you that? Was he just trying to get into character or something? You couldn’t even gather the words for how it made you feel before the front door was swinging open with one of your favorite aunts at the door greeting you.

“Hello, my love!” she practically squealed as she pulled you into a hug. “And who is this?”

“This is my boyfriend, Joel,” you introduced, only slightly alarmed at how easily the word rolled off your tongue.

“Hello, ma’am,” Joel said warmly, setting out a hand for her to shake, which was rejected in favor of a hug. He was clearly a bit caught off guard by it, but also clearly a little into it.

“Sorry,” you whispered to him once she let go and the two of you were ushered inside. “We’re a hug family. I probably should’ve warned you about that on the ride over.”

“I don’t mind, I promise,” he assured you, gently grabbing your hand and looking to you for some sort of assurance. You smiled at him then subtly nodded, lacing your fingers in between his in an act that you hoped would be as practical as it was performative.

As the two of you navigated through the house, you made pleasant small talk with all who you encountered, with you proudly introducing Joel as your boyfriend, and him taking the lead in introducing himself from time to time. After an exhausting hello tour, you had finally made it to the kitchen for drinks, something you’d surely need if you were going to keep up at this rate of socialization.

As you grabbed Joel the beer he’d requested and began to spoon out ladles of the bowl that was tape-labeled ‘ADULT Punch’ into your own cup, you were slightly surprised that you’d finally ran into your mother.

“Hi honey,” she squealed, pulling you into a hug. “How long have you been here? You avoiding me?”

While past experiences of being single during the holiday season and having to interact with your mother often ended up with you suffering for the entirety of the night–or an entire week, like the time she tried to set you up with a coworker’s son–you felt a newfound confidence with the knowledge that Joel was just a few feet away from you, diligently playing the perfect boyfriend.

“We just got here,” you giggled at her typical overbearing self. For once, your guard was down, knowing that she would not be attempting to set you up with anyone, or hounding you about coming home and settling down with a nice local.

“We?” she asked dramatically, brows raised in surprise. “Is your sister somewhere around here, or something?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” you feigned offense as she stepped back to look at the two drinks in your hands. “I brought my boyfriend,” you glanced back at Joel, who was right where you left him, making enthusiastic smalltalk with one of your cousins about the Cowboys game. Like a good little fake boyfriend, upon catching your eye he excused himself from his conversation and walked over to you and your mother.

“Mom, this is Joel, my partner,” you explained, as your gentlemanly fake boyfriend grabbed your mother’s hand and gave it a polite kiss. You certainly hadn’t forgotten about his charm back in the day, but to watch it up close and personal after so much time had passed was undoubtedly having a bit of an effect on you.

“I’ve heard all about you. Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he gushed. You had to give credit where credit was due, Joel was a great actor. You’d given him a bit of backstory on your mom on the ride over to the house, and you’d certainly discussed her while the two of you were students, but definitely not to the extent that he was playing up.

“So nice to meet you,” she replied, her cheeks warming at her interactions with the man. Joel was laying it on thick, but it seemed to be working for her. “Miller, right?”

“Indeed,” he confirmed, flashing a pearly white smile at your mother. As you watched the interaction, you were doing your best to keep it together, partially wanting to laugh out loud at Joel’s overdramatic chivalrous act, and partially wanting to melt into a puddle over just how alluring he was.

“Then I’ve also heard a lot about you. My daughter had the biggest crush on you in high school! It’s so funny that you’ve ended up together now. I suppose God’s timing is always right?”

Your eyes grew wide and your mouth gaped open for a second as your mother reinforced your little secret that Joel had heard from someone else just a few days ago. Suddenly, you were feeling a lot less like a liquidy puddle, and more like the bark of a firm tree–if that tree could experience mortification. If you didn’t need it before, now you really needed that drink. He glanced at you and smiled cheekily before looking back at your mother.

“So I’ve heard,” he said with a smirk, clearly biting back a laugh. You were going to kill your mother. And maybe Naomi too, while you were at it. In fact, you might just add yourself into the mix. It certainly couldn’t hurt. Or at least, it would hurt less than the discomfiture of your fake boyfriend hearing from everyone about the huge crush you had on him.

“Mom! I think your other daughter just got here. Why don’t you go say hi to her and Ben?” you suggested, knowing that the best way to prevent her from embarrassing you any further was to distract her with the idea of embarrassing her other child in front of her significant other.

You clearly knew your mother well, because the strategy worked well enough to get her off your tail. You passed Joel his beer as he watched you closely, the same mischievous smirk lingering on his face long after your mother had left.

“Crush, huh?” he teased you, causing you to shake your head as you took a healthy sip from a deceptively strong punch.

“Shut up,” you groaned. “Please.”

As the night went on, you realized that you couldn’t have picked a better candidate to pretend to be your boyfriend at a family gathering. Joel was quite sociable and polite, even more so with a beer in his system. He didn’t even mind entertaining your family members on his own as you went off and caught up with the few members of your family that you could tolerate for more than a few minutes at a time.

Following a rather chaotic series of discussions including when you and Joel were getting engaged (never, I mean, in the next few years. Probably.), the most romantic thing you’d done (backpacking through Europe, according to Joel), and what it was like reconnecting with your high school crush (fucking fantastic), you’d finally lost track of Joel. You did a quick lap around the house before bumping into your sister and cousin, the latter of which desperately described her need for air.

The three of you huddled together outside on the deck, the spot where you seemed to find yourselves at almost every family function regardless of how fun or stressful it ended up being. While you were enjoying the mayhem of the party and enjoying your time with Joel even more, it was nice to have a little break from it all.

“I can’t believe you’ve been home for just a few days and you’ve already gotten your childhood crush wrapped around your finger,” your sister laughed, comfortably leaning against the railing of the deck.

“That’s the power of working for a Fortune 500. All of the men in your hometown just want a sugar mommy for a little bit. Get some presents for the kids and wife for free,” you joked.

“You’re kidding?” your cousin asked, her brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“I’m kidding,” you confirmed. “You know, we aren’t even actually dating,” you confessed, lips and tongue loose from your second glass of punch.

“What?” your cousin and sister exclaimed at the same time, the two of them suddenly very alert.

Even in your not-completely-there state of mind, you could tell that you had made a mistake telling your secret. It was now very likely that the entire house would know the truth within the next hour, or that you would not be hearing the end of how terrible an idea the whole ordeal was for months on end.

“I figured you two just hit it off, or had some long distance thing going on?” your sister questioned, peering at you curiously as if your face would reveal some sort of information about your arrangement.

“Nope. It’s kinda a long story, but I guess the short of it all is that we’re pretending to be together for the holidays so certain people get off our asses,” you said casually, finishing off your drink and looking out into the backyard rather than making eye contact with either of your kin.

“Fair enough,” your cousin sighed, finally relaxing once more. “If I wasn’t already seeing Will, I’d probably do the same.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea? He really broke your heart,” your sister asked, grabbing your arm to attempt to force you to look at her, and staring at you with concern.

You were sure you could imagine what was going through her head in the moment, the vision of your heartbroken teenage self and the sound of your prolonged sobs as you questioned what your crush saw in her that he couldn’t see in you. You really couldn’t blame her for being worried. She was your older sister, after all, the task of protecting you instilled in her from the day you left the womb, and clearly not gone now. But things were different now. You were all adults, you had more life experience and perspective, and most importantly, whatever was going on between you and Joel wasn’t real, regardless of how much you might have wanted it to be.

“Yeah, when we were eighteen. I think it’ll be fine,” you dismissed, as if anything was ever that simple.

“And he seems like a sweetie now. I think my own parents were wishing I brought him home for the holidays,” your cousin, ever the peacekeeper, added as she attempted to diffuse the quickly escalating tension between you and your sibling.

“He was also a sweetie thirteen years ago when he led you on, then got someone pregnant,” your sister snapped back with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her back to you.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you declared, watching your breath float away in a cold puff of air. “Can we go inside now? I think my toes are gonna fall off.”

After a side eye from your sister and a nod of agreement from your cousin, the three of you headed back inside, where you made quick work of grabbing yet another drink and finding the fireplace.

A few couches were arranged by the fireplace, some filled from edge to edge with sleeping, snuggling children who were exhausted by the excitement of a holiday party, others with some of the older members of your family who simply needed a break from it all. Among them all, you were surprised to find Joel, enthusiastically talking to none other than your father.

Your father was probably one of the most difficult people in your life to impress. He’d maybe told you that he was proud of you a total of five times in your life. Yet, he looked content, hell, happy as he spoke to your fake boyfriend.

Part of you felt bad as you found your way to the empty spot on the couch next to Joel, but you were cold, and you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity to warm up by the fire and the man that you had found was a bit of a human furnace.

When Joel caught sight of you, he smiled and beckoned you over, and you made quick work of maneuvering yourself past the coffee table between the couch. Once you sat down, Joel surprised you by greeting you with a gentle peck on the lips. The action temporarily shocked you, and you desperately hoped that the feeling was not reflected on your face. The naturalness of it all almost felt as if you’d done it a thousand times, and you tried your best to suppress the part of you that wanted to do it a thousand more.

“Hi honey,” Joel greeted you sweetly, his hand almost immediately finding yours. It all felt so right, and if you weren’t so endeared by him in the moment, you certainly would’ve been mildly panicking.

“It was nice meeting you, Joel, but I’m old and I’m tired, so I’m gonna head out,” your father explained, giving you a half nod as he began to stand up.

“Bye, dad. I’ll see you on Christmas?” you asked him, ignoring the panicked look that Joel was certainly sending your way.

“Sounds like a plan. Love you. Get home safe,” he bid the two of you farewell before leaving without much other fanfare.

“Why didn’t you tell me that was your dad?” Joel asked you, looking at you with wide eyes. You laughed a little bit at his panic, finding the dumbfounded look on his face more adorable than you’d like to admit.

“Thought it might’ve come up in conversation, or something,” you shrugged, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day, mixed with the criminally strong punch set in. “Why do you care so much? Trying to make a good impression, Miller?” you teased.

“You’re the worst,” he groaned, then laughed as you snuggled up to his side. You weren’t exactly sure whether the laugh was coming from discomfort or relief, but with the bone-deep cold you were feeling and alcohol in your system, you couldn’t exactly bring yourself to care. “You’re also really cold. Are you okay?”

“Mmm, you’re really warm,” you replied, settling against his warm body unconsciously.

“Someone’s feeling the punch,” he replied, wrapping an arm around you as you closed your eyes.

“It was way stronger than it needed to be,” you agreed in a murmur against his sweater. “Thank you for being such a good fake boyfriend tonight.”

“It was actually pretty fun. I like your family a lot,” he confessed, trying his best to maintain eye contact with you despite the fact that you were in the express lane to dreamland and your blinks were beginning to turn into miniature naps.

“Everyone liked you too. I owe you,” you yawned, dropping your head from the soft fabric of his sweater to the denim of his jeans.

“Mhm. Wanna head home?” he asked.

“How’d you know?” you responded as Joel chuckled above you.

The ride back home was a mostly quiet one, with Christmas music playing softly on the radio and you dozing off in the passenger seat. Every now and then Joel glanced over at you, and the few times that your eyes were actually open, you wondered what it was that he was thinking. Was he checking up on you to make sure you were still alive? Probably. But you just swore there was something else in his eyes, something you’d seen when Ben looked at your sister, or when your parents looked at each other.

But that was probably just the exhaustion speaking.

Once you arrived at your sister’s place, Joel made quick work of helping you get inside safely, even helping you get to bed at your own insistence. Even in your not sober and exhausted state, you knew that you didn’t want the night to end. Even in your less than ideal state of mind, you knew that the way you were feeling about Joel was unsustainable.

—

The soft, dim lighting of a restaurant that felt fancy even for you seemed to beam down on you, encouraging little beads of sweat to collect at your forehead and the creases of your arms. As much as you were desperately trying to maintain the appearance of being cool and collected, your staccato breaths, wobbly smile, and the rapidly appearing perspiration were quite clearly selling you out. You couldn’t help but to stare down at your menu like it was the most interesting thing in the world, the intimidation of sitting across from your fake partner’s ex-wife’s heated glare far more intense than what you’d expected. Far worse than sharing a brief, yet artificial moment of PDA in a grocery store, and far more than you expected to be able to handle. Yet, Joel had done the same for you, and really, it was only fair that you would do the same.

After the Christmas party, you hadn’t really expected to hear anything else from your date. As far as you knew, Joel had only agreed to play pretend with you for one night, and as fun as that night was, it was all fake.

As much as you hated to admit it, your sister was maybe, just a little bit right about the whole ordeal not being your best idea. You couldn’t help but think about the two of you at the party—how he’d held your hand like your hands were two pieces of a puzzle that were made for each other, how he cuddled with you on the couch and looked at you with such genuine concern when he thought you might not be well, but above all, you were stuck on his confession to you, about how beautiful you looked and how scared he was to tell you.

You couldn’t believe that you were still making these kinds of stupid decisions, the type of decisions that made you want to lay in bed all day with a pint of ice cream and a soap opera playing on the revision, and not do work—the very work that you came back to Austin to do.

But despite your urge to shut down, you tried your absolute best to do what you set out to do. You spent hours tossing ingredients in mixers, whipping egg whites into stiff peaks, and narrowly avoiding burning yourself as you took trays out of the oven. Only at the end of the day, as you wiped your forehead with a flour-covered arm and checked your phone did you realize that you’d missed a call from Joel.

After a quick call-back and an explanation to your sister that you would no longer be third wheeling the night’s tree-lighting ceremony with her, you had somehow managed to renew your little agreement with Joel. Your task being a performance of being the perfect, dream girlfriend to Joel Miller, a task that you hoped you would be up for.

But as you sat at the table next to Joel, nearly sweating your mascara off, you began to question the extent of your capabilities within this particular role.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Naomi began, the sharp wing of her eyeliner and the depths of her eyes feeling like they were poking and prodding into you, searching for any weakness or insecurity to be exploited. “What are you up to these days?”

“Well, apart from making the most of my time with Joel,” you looked over at him with what you hoped appeared to be adoration, but probably came across more accurately as the fear you were experiencing, and grabbed his bicep–what you hoped to appear like a fond move, but was something more like you bracing onto him for dear life. “I’m a consultant in New York City. It definitely takes up a lot of my time, but it also feels like every second of free time I have, I’m spending it on the phone with this one.”

You and Joel chuckled, your choked out laugh feeling far more artificial than his. You hoped to whatever powers above that you would somehow manage to convince the couple across from you to believe a story that you could barely even believe yourself, although, with the way that Naomi was still glaring at you, you doubted that being the case.

“That sounds fun,” she replied, leaning forward slightly as if she was ready to sink her teeth into you two and absolutely tear you apart. “So how’d you two reconnect?”

Joel, clearly sensing your discomfort, came to your rescue with a quick, preplanned answer. “Remember when I took Sarah to Manhattan earlier this year?” Joel began, averting his gaze from you and onto his ex, who now shot Joel a pleasant, yet, rehearsed smile.

“Mhm,” she replied, seemingly already entertained by where the story might end up going.

“Well, we ran into each other at a coffee shop a few blocks away from her workplace and really just hit it off. The rest is history,” he said, turning his attention back towards you.

“You two were hitting it off in front of our daughter?” Naomi asked, the slight tilt to her head and hint of smirk on her face revealing that her question was less out of concern for their child, and more out of taking an opportunity to antagonize the two of you.

“It was more like reconnecting. I swear, Joel is the only person in the world to think that recommending my favorite bagel shop in the city is flirting,” you attempted to save, not wanting to be labeled as a threat to their child just a few minutes into dinner.

“To my credit, you were selling it pretty hard. You were practically saying, ‘come with me to get bagels tomorrow,’” Joel added on, seemingly lighting up as the two of you added more and more to your fake meet-cute.

“Next time you visit we’ll get all the bagels you want, my love. We can even split them Lady and The Tramp style,” you giggled, feeling your cheeks warm as you imagined you and Joel at the opposite ends of one cream cheese filled bagel.

“Okay, yeah, I get it. I was just joking, anyway,” she replied, clearly fed up with the two of you.

“Sorry,” you apologized, actually feeling a little bad about how long your little bit had gone on. “What about you two? How’d you and Henry meet?”

“It’s actually a pretty cute story,” Henry spoke up after being a passive spectator for an uncomfortable period of time. “Noms had just moved out west a little bit after the divorce, and the two of us met in a yoga class. I accidentally took her yoga mat, and it was… what did you say earlier? The rest was history?”

The two of them shared an intimate laugh, one that indicated that they were referencing some sort of inside joke, just as you and Joel had earlier after you’d shared what you’d been doing with your life since high school. You glanced over at Joel, his pressed smile and slightly furrowed brows a clear indicator that he was not impressed by the two of them. Thankfully, before the tension could go any further, a kind waitress interrupted the conversation with the simple question of whether or not your table was ready to order.

Shortly after ordering, the conversation picked up once again. While you occasionally were able to ask a question or two about the couple sitting across from you, it above all felt like you and Joel were being interrogated about the nature of your relationship. Lies easily flowed from both of your tongues, sandwiched between fond looks shared between the two of you as if there was no one else in the room, and stolen moments of physical affection that seemed to warm you from the inside-out.

As the two of you added more and more onto your story, the more you began to yearn for the more intricate details of it all to be true.

You wanted to receive a bouquet of flowers on your doorstep from someone almost two-thousand miles from you, just because he’d been thinking about you. You wanted to have a reason to come back and visit the city you grew up in, and to learn about every new hole-in-the-wall shop that had come to mean a lot to him. You wanted to take on his hobbies, and have him take on some of yours despite you both being terrible at them, solely because you knew that the other cared about it. The longer the night went on, the clearer everything became: you wanted all of this and more with Joel, but you’d clearly never be able to have him.

It was no longer a question to you of if your arrangement should end, and had clearly become a matter of when it was going to end. No matter how much fun you were having holding Joel’s hand under the table and feeding the man next to you bites of scallop, you knew it wasn’t sustainable to be feeling so strongly about a situation that had been doomed from the start.

You were undoubtedly treading a very thin line between getting your hopes up for what wasn’t, but could be, and savoring every last second you had with Joel, pretending to be something that the two of you were very obviously not. With the arrival and passing of dessert, and the final spoonfuls of a split chocolate cake, you’d realized that your time with Joel had ended; a conclusion as bitter as the dark chocolate garnish on your shared plate.

The two of you held hands once more as you walked out to his car, fingers lingering together even after the couple you’d been putting a show on were safely tucked away in their own vehicle. You didn’t talk much on your ride back home, the air thick with a tension that made you wonder if Joel had come to a similar conclusion of his own during dinner. The radio filled in the silence where words lacked, covers of Christmas songs filling in for the conversation that surely should’ve been occurring.

After a ride that felt like it had lasted forever and no time at all, you had finally arrived at your sister’s place, the final resting ground for whatever your relationship had been.

“Thanks,” you said as you unclipped your seatbelt, wanting to rip the bandaid off and leave as quickly as humanly possible, while also lingering in his car forever. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah,” he looked at you for a moment as if he had something more to say, but was holding his tongue. Taking one long look at your face, then offering you a weak half smile, he spoke once more. “You too.”

Though you were mildly disappointed when you didn’t hear back from Joel, you couldn’t say that you were particularly surprised. Everything about your final encounter in his truck indicated that the very brief chapter in both of your lives of pretending to be what you both were not was over. Still, you couldn’t deny the remnant ache in your chest when your father asked where your boyfriend was over Christmas dinner, or the pathetic way that you secretly hoped every ring of the bakery door would deliver you Joel Miller, much like your first day back in Austin did.

Once again, you attempted to drown yourself in your work, working from open to close at your sister’s bakery and ending the day with sore legs, flour in your hair, and an intense desire to never consume anything sweet ever again. You somehow even managed to convince your boss to let you clock a few virtual hours at your actual job, spending all of the time that you were not at the bakery in your temporary bedroom, doing whatever tasks would set you ahead by the time you returned to work.

You realized you weren’t being particularly subtle with the fact that you were trying to distract yourself from something, and while your sister did her best to be whatever it was that you needed during such a bizarre time, she didn’t exactly press, though you were sure she had a bit of an idea of what was making you feel so down.

“Hey, I have a catering job for us,” she informed you one morning as the two of you worked side-by-side.

“When? You remember I’m leaving tomorrow, right?” you sighed, hoping your sister recognized your mild annoyance as less with her, and more with your time in Austin as a whole. You desperately wanted to leave, but you’d promised to stay until the new year began, when orders typically began to slow down. (“Resolutions,” she told you over the phone as you prepared to come back home.)

“Of course I remember,” she shook her head playfully as she spoke to you. “It’s tonight. At the Spoke. They’re doing some New Year’s Eve thing, and I think it’ll be fun.”

“I think maybe we have two different definitions of fun,” you commented, continuing to roll out the piece of dough in front of you.

“Oh, come on. What were you going to be doing anyway?” she pressed you, her attempt to get you to get out of the house clear as day now. “Working in your bedroom during your break? Sulking for reasons you refuse to share with me? Watching episodes of The Bachelor that you’ve seen a hundred times already?”

“Ugh, okay, okay. I’ll do it. We’ll do it,” you finally conceded.

“Good! Now, do you want a coffee? We’re gonna have a lot of trays to finish today.”

You couldn’t deny that it made you feel a little bit better knowing that you had somewhere fun to go that night. Despite living in Texas for the first portion of your life, you’d never had the opportunity to go to any sort of dance hall, and though you’d probably be spending the majority of your time distributing cupcakes to people, you were excited to be doing something fun regardless.

After your longest and final shift at the bakery, your sister hugged you as tight as she could manage and thanked you for everything you’d helped her accomplish this holiday season, before sending you back home to get dressed up for the dance hall. After deciding to go full cowgirl with your attire, you peered in your sibling’s closet for any article of clothing that you could borrow for the night, and ultimately left her closet with a completely different wardrobe.

Even as you and your sister arrived at the dance hall early to set up, patrons were already beginning to flood into the venue. Their excited energy was contagious, and you couldn’t help but feel invigorated, your downtrodden feelings being replaced with much more positive ones.

As the night went on, you found yourself having more and more fun, whether it was from distributing pastries to rosy-cheeked dancers who paused to take a break from the floor, or flirty gentlemen who took the brief moment of your fingers touching over a distributed cupcake to ask to buy you a drink. While you were sure that you would’ve had a decent time doing nothing at home, then popping a bottle of champagne at midnight, the night was certainly shaping up to be a memorable one.

Time seemed to be flying by as you stood by the table, offering cupcakes to whoever passed you by. It wasn’t long before Ben arrived, and your sister was excusing herself from the table to share a dance with her partner. You watched the two of them with adoration, thinking of how you would love to have someone to come sweep you off your feet and offer to dance with you–well, someone other than a sweaty patron. As much as you’d tried to convince yourself over the years that you weren’t cut out for relationships, your trip and weird fake dating arrangement with Joel had made you realize something of the opposite. Maybe you’d be ringing in the New Year with a Hinge download.

After passing out the final cupcake you had, you began to break down boxes and put away some of the other items you’d brought to help the distribution process go more smoothly. With your back turned to the dance floor as you dropped leftover napkins into a plastic bag, you were surprised as you heard a familiar voice greet you from behind.

“Joel?” you said as you looked up at the patiently waiting person, surprised to see his face after such an abrupt ending and a period of radio silence between the two of you.

“Hi,” he said, almost shyly.

“Hi. Sorry, we just ran out of cupcakes” you stated, trying to pretend that things were business as usual between the two of you–whatever business as usual meant now.

“I don’t…” Joel trailed off before ditching the idea altogether, surely figuring that whatever he had to say was more important than an explanation of how he was uninterested in the treats you were serving. “Can we talk?”

“I mean,” you hesitated for a moment, wondering if it would be better to avoid everything altogether and simply move on with your life. You could simply tell him no, hop on a plane the following afternoon, then never think about Joel again. It would all be so simple and easy–the exact opposite of what your relationship had spiraled into during your time back in Austin. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s talk.”

The truth was, as easy as you would’ve liked it to be, you were intrigued by Joel’s nervous body language. As he shifted from foot to foot and subtly picked at his hand, you imagined him walking into the hall with his friends, or whoever it was that he came with, seeing you, and immediately going to leave the venue, only staying from the coercion and peer pressure of his peers. You imagined him spending the night working up the nerve to come say to you what was left unspoken the last time the two of you talked, hoping that the beers in his system and all of the dancing would finally get enough jitters out of him to finally address you.

“I’m all ears,” you shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest in a subconscious protective measure. Even though he could do no physical harm to you, your brain was all too aware of the damage he’d done to your heart in the past.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For not reaching out to you after our dinner, and for being an oblivious idiot in high school. And I guess, for being an oblivious idiot now,” he began to blather, glancing down nervously at his shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

You were surprised by his words and slightly unsure of what to say, or even think in response. Now that you had heard his apology, you were beginning to have an idea of the direction that this confession was likely going to take, and you couldn’t tell if you should be leaping for joy or finding the nearest exit. Maybe you could figure out a way to do both, jumping and skipping as you left through the fire exit.

Joel began to search for his next words and you tried to ignore the racing heartbeat in your chest as you attempted to search for your own. Just when you were thinking that it would be impossible for your situation to get any more uncomfortable, a man slightly shorter than Joel and who oddly resembled him sauntered up to the table where the two of you were attempting to speak.

“It’s gonna be twelve soon! Come dance!” the man shouted at Joel, his accent heavy and his words slurred as he grabbed onto Joel’s flannel sleeve. Joel shot him a dirty look, one that clearly communicated his annoyance, but didn’t exactly scream surprised.

“Not now, Tommy,” Joel reprimanded, his gritted teeth and tense demeanor making you want to laugh–if not for his reaction, then over the surrealistic nature of the scene. Mere moments into some sort of apology or confession, the two of you had been interrupted by his intoxicated acquaintance asking him to dance.

“Yes now, Joel. C’mon, lighten up!” the man practically whined, eliciting an exasperated eye roll from Joel. He looked back at you with tense shoulders and worry in his eyes, and you couldn’t exactly tell if he was looking for backup or sympathy. Instead of responding to him with either, you gave him a shy shrug of approval.

“We can talk while we dance?” you suggested, part of you hoping that maybe the distraction of doing something else while you spoke would make your conversation a little less difficult.

Taking Joel’s hand, you followed the men out to the dance floor, where Tommy had disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared to interrupt Joel’s confession. Part of you wondered if this had been premeditated, or if Joel’s drunk friend was simply not able to read the room.

“Before we start, I have a confession of my own,” you began, hoping that what you were about to say would at least lighten up the mood of your conversation. Clearly, the two of you struggled with communicating your feelings, and you hoped sharing what you were prepared to share would at least be helpful in opening up a line of communication.

“Yeah?” he said hopefully. You tried your best to fight the smile that was threatening to appear on your face at the sound of his tone, but ultimately failed.

“I don’t have a damn clue how to do this,” you confessed, glancing over at the pairings around you moving together as if they had done these steps a million times–and knowing your town, they probably had.

“It’s fine,” he said without an ounce of judgment in his voice. “I’ll teach you how.”

And he did, his mouth pressed closely to your ear as he counted off numbers in time with the live band just a few feet away from you, and directed your body left, right, back, and forward until you finally seemed to get the hang of the dance. Though there was still an elephant remaining in the room, dancing seemed to be successful in alleviating some of the tension that lingered.

“Is it okay if we continue our conversation?” Joel asked as the two of you took a synchronized step back. Your eyes were trained on your nearly matching boots, and the thought of having to face your feelings–or the lack thereof–made your stomach churn. Once again, you began to consider the most efficient exit routes.

“Of course,” you replied, doing your best to mask the nerves that had bubbled right back up as you finally met his eye.

“I was so excited to see you, when I found out you were back in town. I guess there was still part of me that wondered what things might have been like if things were different. Then I saw you in the store, and we started doing… whatever we were doing, and I just kept wanting more. It just felt so real, too real, and I started wanting more than what I could have. I mean, you live so far away, and even if you didn’t, I’m sure you have romantic prospects all over the place. Why would you settle for me?”

You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Joel still thought about you? He had begun to want more in the same way that you did the more your fake relationship progressed? He thought he wasn’t good enough for you?

“Joel-” you began, his name slipping off your tongue involuntarily. You desperately wanted to dispute his claims, but he didn't let you finish.

“I guess I just wanted to apologize for how I acted. I didn’t want you to assume that things ended how they ended for any other reason other than me making terrible decisions as usual.” Once again, it was Joel’s turn to look uncomfortable, and you couldn’t exactly blame him after what he shared with you.

“I accept your apology, but it wasn’t all your fault. And you’re not an idiot,” you clarified in between a spin, finishing your sentence as Joel pulled you back to him. “I was disappointed, but I understood. Honestly, I was starting to feel the same way with you. Our fake dating was starting to feel a little too much like real dating, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up when you were clearly uninterested.”

“But I’m not uninterested,” Joel looked at you with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, which only seemed to be highlighted by the fact that his arm was draped across your torso, a welcome result of the spinning move. “I want to try, if you want to try. The distance is a hurdle, but we can give it a shot, at the very least. We can visit each other when we get the chance. We can watch the same episodes of The Bachelor, then discuss it afterward.”

“Oh my god, who told you about that?” you remarked, interrupting his big speech.

“Your sister. At the Christmas party,” Joel replied, his cheeks flush with the adrenaline of sharing his feelings with you and the excitement of dreaming of a future with you.

“She’s unbelievable,” you murmured, shaking your head the slightest bit before Joel continued.

“But that’s besides the point. We can send each other delivered gifts, and can talk to each other every day, like what you told Naomi.”

“What I told her when I was lying?” you asked with a laugh, reminiscing on your dinner.

“Well, yeah… But it doesn’t have to be a lie. I can come visit you, and you can come visit me. We can get bagels at your favorite shop when I come to the city. I can teach you how to dance when you come to Austin. Maybe it’s crazy, but I think we can try. Should try.”

“I would like nothing more than that,” you confessed, an honest truth that seemed to light you up from the inside. Hearing Joel’s almost crazed rant about how passionate he was about trying made you a little less afraid of your possible future together, and a whole lot more sure about your feelings for the man.

“Then let’s do it. Let’s do it right this time,” he said as the music finally came to a conclusion, being swapped out for none other than the chant of a countdown.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

As cheers of ‘Happy New Years’ rang out, Joel gently directed your face towards his, your noses and foreheads pleasantly bumping into each other. As your lips finally touched, it felt as if two puzzle pieces designed for each other and meant to be together had finally fallen into place, the rumble of fireworks outside celebrating the long-awaited union between the two of your bodies.

In the past, the affection the two of you had shared had felt real, but deep down you were aware that it was nothing more than a farce. A façade to trick judgmental exes and prying family members. But this time, the affection was different.

The growing warm feeling in your chest, the electric sparks on your skin where Joel was touching you, and the look of admiration in his eyes once you’d finally pulled away told you everything you needed to know.

This was real.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou

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b0xerdancer-writes · 2 months

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It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 5

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that he's already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander, cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol, parental abuse, death, murder, arguing. Not proofread.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,570

Notes: Rhys and reader talk things out, Lucien is a soft boy and gives the best hugs. Shit starts getting real.

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I had only ever been in Rhys’s office a handful of times since he took over after dad. He had remodeled it, gotten rid of any feeling that father had left in that room. It felt so much colder to me in here now, it sent chills up my spine as I sat in the padded leather chair. The room was empty around me save for my bag that housed my book from earlier and quiet, eerily quiet that had me raking my eyes across every shelf, every nook, and every cranny in observation.

Eventually the door creaked open and Rhys entered with a tray of cookies in one hand, I could hear the giggles before I saw him. Small pale hands wrapped around Rhys knee as he tried to shoo Nyx off while he ‘had to deal with some work stuff’. Eventually the child relented, his wide eyes locking with mine like a deer in the headlights; before Rhys handed him half of a cookie and he scampered off.

I had always been distant with my family, it had started with our parents. Rhys favored our mother and saw our father as a bad person but it was the opposite with me, I favored our father and our mother despised me even threatened to clip my wings herself if it would get me out of her hair; I had ran to Rhys crying that night and he didn't believe me but when I told father the yelling within the house could be heard in every room. Rhys’s visits had become scarcer and scarcer after that, then he was sent to Windhaven and mother accompanied him.

Then into the picture came Cassian and Azriel. I had nothing against them in the long run but they seemed to follow Rhys’s ideology too closely. They saw me as an expansion of my father, and oh how Rhys had told them about him but that I wasn't nearly as bad just needed a steer in the right direction. The only person who had seemed to see me as more than a daddy’s girl at this point was Eris, everytime father and I would show up in Autumn Court it was like a breath of fresh air and he just accepted me as I was. Eris had put his all into learning my interests and favorites, making sure he remembered them and surprising me with little things that I had mentioned here or there to him.

It went downhill after the death of my mother and sister. I had never met my sister. At that point father insisted she and mother stay in Windhaven and after she reached a certain age then he would bring them to Velaris. We had been in Autumn when father got the news, I remembered the panic as Eris and I rushed back up to the Forest House, we had barely stepped through the gardens archway when father pulled me from Eris’s grasp; I had twisted my ankle in the rush and Eris was steadying me, I barely got the goodbye out of my mouth before we were winnowing.

I had been to Windhaven only once or twice before my sister's birth. Father had warned me to stay away from it as most of them were brutes and that someone as gentle as I was had no business being there. I felt the chill before I saw the cause of it, as we appeared in windhaven the sight of a torn up cabin greeted us. Rhys was collapsed in the snow on his knees, Cassian and Azriel either side trying to comfort him but grieving themselves. At father’s appearance the boys stilled and tensed either side of Rhys, Rhys looked up at father’s approaching steps. My own smaller ones behind his, blood was splattered on the snow around the entrance and on Rhys’s hands. The grief in my brother's eyes and the blood was enough for me to guess what had happened to a degree. They were dead, murdered I surmised by the violence around me. Father held his hand out in a motion I knew meant to stop and stay where I was, and he pushed through the cabin door; the smell of death and iron was thick but disappeared as soon as the door closed. All three males shot me a look of sympathy and pain as I placed my own hand on Rhys with a small sad smile meant to comfort him in my own way.

I had hated to admit it to myself but I had accepted her death a long time before it had happened. I had accepted it the night she had threatened to rip my wings from me, she had bruised my shoulders with the strength of her grasp as she shook me and screamed at me. The day she moved back to Windhaven was a relief to me, it no longer felt like walking on eggshells, but I would never tell Rhys that.

Father came out of the cabin tense, it must have been brutal whatever it was. To others the look would seem incredibly cold, and I would bet Rhys thought that as well but to me I knew what was happening behind his cold exterior. He was accepting grief, he might not have loved her nowadays but he had wanted to once, then she simply saw him as a captor and never gave him a real chance and that she was simply doing her duty to her high lord, and had only ever been cold to him. He had told me that late one night after we returned from Autumn Court, a night the bond in my chest ached so desperately I had ended up crying in his arms.

Father steeled himself for a moment, but yet patted Rhys’s shoulder as he walked by towards where other illyrians had started gathering including the camp lord. He exchanged words with them before he nodded at them and shook hands with the camp lord. A few minutes passed before he was pulling Rhys to his feet with a simple shoulder pat and with a nod he pulled me into his side and we were winnowing back to Velaris. I didn’t hear anything else about Windhaven, Rhys, or mother for a while after that.

Before I knew it, my father was disappearing into the underground portion of our court to discuss business with his brother. It was nearly a month after mother’s death before we visited Autumn Court again, when we finally did and I was meeting with father in the living room, He was looking at me sadly even though I was ecstatic if I had done my math correctly it would be announced today that Eris and I were to be engaged and wed soon after that. I had simply summed up the sadness in his eyes as the fact he was sad he would be letting me go, the grief of a father losing his daughter to a husband. I could not have been further from correct.

I should have sensed something was off when Eris didn't greet me as excitedly. Instead this day would be full of tears and my stunned silence until I made it home. Eris had cried in my lap as he told me and begged me not to hate him or leave him. I had known about his fathers abuse growing rapidly with every one of his brothers that had been born. I had made a deal with him then and there that I would never be able to hate him, that I would never leave him alone, and that I would always be there.

When we had winnowed back into the house, all I did was simply sink to the floor as the sobs began to wash over me. Father had wrapped me in his arms and sat on the floor with me rocking, apologizing repeatedly begging me to forgive him. He had sobbed into my hair as he held me that he couldn't lose me too and that though I had every right to hate him that he'd figure out some way to make it up to me. It would never return to the way it had been now that Mor was in the picture.

It had been a rough night after that, the pain in my chest made it hard to sleep, so I had gone down to warm some tea and honey to dull the ache and lul me back to sleep. Instead as I rounded the corner into the living room I was greeted by the sight of Rhys and father touching foreheads, father had one hand wrapped around the back of Rhys’s head pulling him to him. They had both looked up as I entered, they were dressed in fighting leathers black as the inky sky outside. Father had simply beckoned me over and lifted my head by my chin with a sad smile, I had learned that meant something isn't sitting right with him, something was making him anxious. He mentioned they would be back in the early hours of the morning and patted me on the shoulder as Rhys and him disappeared into the world around them as they winnowed, it left a smell like fresh roses. I had understood what was going on without him saying anything, he was going to get revenge for his mate. A pit quickly grew in my stomach, as I stirred the honey into my mug of tea.

I had stayed up for them that night, anything past Rhys showing back up alone, the obvious signs and scent of becoming Highlord clung to him, was a massive blur. Blood clung to him, and he had given me a sad look and shook his head, I had screamed and sobbed, Rhys had held me there silent and covered in blood as I cried, like he had cried for mother.

I had become a loner after that, Azriel and Cassian moved into the house, it wasn't as quiet anymore but it had stopped feeling like home that night. Rhys updated the wards around the house, no more winnowing in or out anymore, and said it was for protection. Shortly after that Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys were dragging Mor into the house as she bled out, the scent of autumn clung to her skin. I had rushed past them out towards the balcony, manifesting my wings to rush down to Velaris so I could winnow to the Autumn Court, to mine and Eris’s spot. I had comforted Eris that day, rage bubbling just under my skin.

I had become bitter with Mor since I had heard the lie she told, since the second she began slandering my mate. I grew closer with Azriel, and Cassian slowly yet surely till I could consider them brothers myself. I couldn't remember when we picked up Amren along the way, but she made life in the house more bearable. Then Amarantha came and I lost my brother for 50 years. I had bought an apartment after a week of hearing Mor bitch at every dinner, after a week of Cassian and Azriel being distant and emotionally unavailable. I hadn’t been at the house when he showed up murmuring about his mate, I hadn’t even known till the next day when he showed up at my door murmuring about how I moved but he needed me and was asking me to move back into the house; I sold the apartment without a second thought and was back into my old room, Mor was still everywhere so I opted to stay in my room.

The next few years of my life seemed to rush by, Feyre, Nesta, and Elain joining our circle, well Rhys’s circle. At the beginning I had gotten along with feyre well, and I was still thankful to her for rekindling the flame in my brother but when Elain had treated Lucien the way she did I had snapped at her, I still saw Lucien as the shy young male that hid behind Eris’s legs when he first introduced us. My breaking point with Elain was when Lucien returned from a rough time in Spring and needed a good hug; I had pulled him into one and Elain, despite openly confessing she wanted nothing to do with him and clinging onto Azriel’s arm, had made a comment about how I must have been desperate to go after a male with a mate. It was after she had seen me and Azriel laughing both sweaty and laying on the floor by the training ring and had made a comment about how Azriel was taken and that I needed to stop trying to whore myself out to him. Azriel had shot her a look of surprise at her answer, and had defended me in saying that wasn't what was happening but shortly after that I stopped training with them entirely.

Lucien and I had gotten our own apartment shortly after, it had been my idea due to the suffocating feeling the House of the Wind had become anymore, he agreed since he was looking into getting one himself anyways. Elain shot me a dirty look anytime I was in the same room as her nowadays, but wouldnt say a thing to me after I yelled back at her and called her some not so pleasant things. Nesta had completely stopped talking with me after that, and Feyre rarely did anymore unless it was on Rhys’s behalf or on business. Needless to say that due to that strain, I had never been close with my nephew and had only seen him a handful of times since his birth.

I was shaken from my thoughts as Rhys held a cookie out to me, the promise ring on my hand glinting as I reached to take it. Rhys pulled the cookie back, dropping it onto the tray as he grabbed my hand from the air. He turned my hand every which way to observe the ring.

“Eris really out did himself here really.” It was meant to be under his breath but the tone it came out in sounded poisonous.

I pulled my hand back from his quickly. “Yes he did, is there a problem with it brother? I agreed to help him.” I’ll admit it came out as a hiss.

Rhys lifted his hands into the air in surrender. “Woah, woah, sorry didn't mean it to sound like that. Just made me realize how desperate he really is.”

“He's trying to reform his court Rhys! He might have to take a few more steps to do so than you did, but you did the same thing when you took over after father died.” A low blow admittedly but it worked.

“Sorry, you're right. I just wanted to check where you are standing on all of this. It's a big ask of you.” His voice was calm,his voice he used for business, void of emotion. He sat the cookies on his desk and took a seat in his chair opposite me.

“He told you I agreed, So you know where I stand. He has always been a close friend to me, if he needs my help why would I tell him no.” He didn’t need to know the whole truth.

Rhys took a deep breath in and dropped his head into his hands. “Your right, you two have always been close. I just thought tensions might be high after your blow up at Rita’s.”

My blow up?

My.

Blow.

Up?

I growled and stood quickly slamming my hands onto his desk and he leaned back in his chair with a flinch as he looked up at me. “My Blow Up? Rhysand. It was you who allowed them to speak to him like that. Do you believe my judgment to be so flawed that I can't decide who I trust with MY well-being?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, just you went off on everyone at that table. Including Mor, and she deserves your anger least, it was him who let her come into harm's way.”

I saw red for a second as the growl rumbled in my chest and I slammed my talons into his mental shield and he hissed at the contact. “Rhysand, mother above, you are the daftest fucking male I know. To fucking high on your horse to realize you are no fucking better than him. None of you are. Do you even know the truth behind what happened to those two? I guarantee you don't because if so you would be giving Cassian looks of pity, not Mor.”

Rhys slammed his own hands palm down on his desk and stood up, looking down on me to try and intimidate me into calm. “No better than he is? Please that male is nothing but his father’s son. Why would I give Cassian looks of pity? Because Mor used him? We all know that.”

His talons scraped along my shield but I didn't even wince, one thing father had made sure I was thoroughly trained on was daemati powers, from the second the power had manifested in me. It was one subject I was confident I had a one up on Rhys in.

I scoffed loudly, a bitter laugh falling from my mouth as I raked my talons across his shield again, a warning and a reminder. “You absolute fucking hypocrite Rhysand. Nothing but his father’s son? Look in the fucking mirror, or the fucking ouroboros for all I care and you will see you are the exact same. Didn’t you make a whole point when you became high lord, especially with the Court of Nightmares actually, that you were just as cold as you said father was? Did you not step back and put Feyre on display under the mountain like how Mor was on display just to save you and everyone here?”

He flinched but knew I was right so even though he opened his mouth to rebuttal he didn't push through when I sunk my talons into his shield cracking it. “No. You don't get to speak hypocrite. Mor has you all in her fucking pocket in regards to that damn story,” I shoved my wrist in his face, the butterfly tattoo on display. “I made a damn bargain with her when she realized I knew, I told her she has to come clean to you all and especially Cassian, and no I will not explain why it is not my place to tell that story, soon in exchange she promised that she will no longer be slandering Eris and if she catches any of you slandering him she is to shut it down.”

His eyes widened as he looked at the wine red butterfly. “You're his mate. Aren’t you?” His voice was barely audible but I had caught it still.

“How?” My eyes widened, and my talons slipped from their grasp.

“You defend him so viciously, and without a single thought or doubt. You tear down anyone who seeks to tear him down, even if it puts yourself at risk to be hurt. Like I do with Feyre now, or Cassian with Nesta.”

I was stunned into silence. Was I really that obvious?

“That book you were reading, about soulmates and the likeness, you were reading it about him I assume? He doesn't know, does he?”He whispered it, his own eyes still wide. I felt his talons tap on my shield asking to be let in, and I pushed back against him in refusal.

“Stay out of my head Rhys.” I hissed. “When did you realize?” I couldn’t have been that obvious, could I? Both Rhys and Lucien had figured it out within 2 days of me and Eris being back around each other.

“Just now, honestly, I just pieced it together. When you mentioned Feyre and I realized if I had seen all those eyes on her now, I would have reacted the same way as you.” His voice softened as he spoke, as the reality hit him. “How long have you known you were his mate?”

“Since we were 12.” I mumbled and looked down.

“Oh. By the mother, that's why you were always so violent towards Mor. Cauldron we were all so blind to the reason behind your rage. I’m sorry.” He sat down and I felt him pull back out of my mind completely.

I took a step back from the desk, the backs of my knees touching the leather chair. I met his eyes, disdain and anger in my own eyes. “If only it started there Rhys. Imagine if you had lost Feyre to Tamlin right after you had just gotten her here that first time. Imagine the pain that would have caused you, now imagine that pain gets worse every time you have to walk away from her with an unsolidified bond for over 500 years.” My words were venom to him.

His eyes found mine and he seemed like he wanted to cry. “I… I couldn’t imagine Moonbeam. I’m sorry, though I know my apology is nothing to aid the pain you have felt for that long.”

I crossed my arms over myself, retracting into myself. I had gotten my anger out, I just wanted to retire to my apartment now, just wanted to cook dinner in the kitchen with Lucien while we sang whatever songs popped in our heads. “Remember that Rhys, the next time you want to judge him, and you mock me for defending him. You and him are two sides of the same coin. I have defended him for over 500 years, I will defend him for 500 more even if I’m putting myself at risk. No questions asked. I vowed that to him when we were younger; the day we were told he was to marry Mor I made a bargain that I would never leave him alone in this world, that I would never hate him and that I would always be there if he needed me.

Rhys simply nodded. “I get it Moonbeam. I’d do the same for Feyre if she asked.”

I nodded and looked at the floor. “I know you would Rhys, you aren’t a bad male and neither is Eris. You just have to see past his own mask. I’ve just been lucky and honored to see past it from the get go.”

Rhys looked at his desk, defeated and probably rethinking his actions towards Eris through again. I picked my bag up from the couch and flung it over my shoulder, I wrapped a couple cookies in a napkin and tossed them into a smaller pocket in my bag.

As I was about to push the door open Rhy cleared his throat. “Does he know?” I shook my head and he sighed. “Okay. I trust you, you know what you're doing acting like you've been courting him right?”

I let out a sad short laugh. “Actually Rhys I honestly don’t have a clue. But he needs me. He asked me to do this for him, and why would I tell him no? I know I’ll probably get hurt in the long run, but what if it's the exact opposite? What if we go through this whole thing and he realizes one day suddenly that I'm his mate, that it's always been me? I can't give up hope because I might break my own heart. I can’t be selfish like that Rhys. If I get hurt I get hurt, but at least I still have him in my life somehow.”

Rhys nodded. “Be careful, okay? I'll always be here with cookies and the stars.”

I pushed the door open softly and looked back over my shoulder at him sadly. “I hate to burst your big brother and father mentality bubble right now Rhys, but you stopped being there before you left for Windhaven. You stopped being there after mother snapped at me, don’t try to be now please.” I let the door click behind me.

The walk to the balcony was quick, the early night chill greeted me as I manifested my wings and flew down towards the landing of my apartment. I landed on the metal steps right before the small porch area me and Lucien had set up with a small table and two chairs, the wards whirred as they unlocked and music greeted me as I pushed the door open. Lucien was home, thank the mother Lucien was home, I needed a good fucking hug after that shitshow with Rhys.

Music blasted from the kitchen, from the little enchanted mechanism Lucien had brought home with him a couple missions ago. His bright orange hair was pulled into a loose messy bun on top of his head, and he greeted me brightly spatula in hand, though once he had looked me over he set it down and rounded the counters enveloping me into a hug.

“You look like you had a shit day, what happened.” He rubbed my back softly.

I would die for Lucien’s hugs, he gave the best ones in the entirety of Prythian. “Rhys found out about the bond between me and Eris.”

“Oh?” He sounded worried

“Yeah.” Simple, easy.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He'd make us spiked cider tonight and we'd forget this evening happened.

“He tried to talk down on Eris.” Anger, yet I hadn’t the energy to be angry.

“You beat his ass?” A sweet effort to make me laugh, and it actually worked.

“Close enough, I put him in his place for sure.” I snickered into his shoulder.

“That's my sister that I know.” He snarked.

I shoved his shoulder and pushed away from him. “I’m not your sister.”

“Correction: Not yet.” He snickered loudly.

I rolled my eyes at him “I'm gonna go change.” I took my bag off my shoulder, grabbing the wrapped cookies and pressing them to him. He happily took them, popping one into his mouth and sitting the rest on the counter, I sat my bag on the coffee table.

“Oh!” He waved his cookie at me. “You had a delivery come while you were out.”

“Just my dress Luc, wanna see it?” I raised my brow at him.

“Ohhh there is so much more than ‘Just a dress’ there love. There was only one bag from here. The rest are autumn court tried and true. Gifts from my brother I have no doubt.” He smirked at me.

“Luc… What am I about to find in my room? How much stuff is in there?” I questioned.

“Just your dress, and stuff to get our new roommate adjusted to life in night court.” He hummed smugly.

“OUR NEW ROOMMATE? LUCIEN WHAT AM I ABOUT TO FIND IN MY ROOM?” my eyes widened.

“I don’t know you haven’t named him yet.” He disappeared back into the kitchen and I turned down the hall to rush into my room.

I pushed the door open slowly just enough to peek into my room, low and behold I heard a happy little bark. A few bags were stacked on my bed, a small fluffy bed was laid on the floor and happily nested in it was a small fluffy shadow hound.

“By the fucking Cauldron. LUCIEN WHAT THE FUCK.” Lucien’s laugh echoed down the hallway from the kitchen.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbatboydreams @abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638 @azriels-mate2 @sassyslytherinshai

@sparksandstarss @pandabiiissh @saltedcoffeescotch

@cirwin2013 @minnieoo @easchies @melsunshine

@sweetcarolina-24 @florenceivy @inloveallthetime

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction

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your-favblondie · 4 months

Text

'*•.¸♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬♡¸.•*'

(This is one of my first times writing in the past few years and my first time writing in this way so please give me any criticism and any tips you guys may have!! Now on to the story :3)

Word Count: 625

Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll. Our winner was everyone's favorite emo, Choso!! I hope you enjoy the story and if you did leave a like or a comment down below!

Choso is soo sweet but also soooo sooo inexperienced in his relationships.

He probably has only dated one or two people before you if you aren't his first relationship.

He texts like a Victorian gentleman, uses no slang, and has perfect punctuation.

"Hello Sweetheart, I hope this message finds you well. Tell me how your day has been? Love, Choso"

His room is like a teenager's room, with posters and little collections of his favorite things, and on a shelf above his desk, he has pictures of you and his brothers, plus any gifts you've ever given him! (super sentimental) Has a matching couple's bracelets sitting on his desk for you two. ( Shhh he's gonna surprise you)

He's a very clean person! ( no dust shall cover his room) The type to always offer to help with dishes if he eats at another person's house.

Gives you little flowers he found and if you're going on a trip and he won't see you for a while he'll dry some flowers inside a book and give them to you! (he'd also do this on the regular for you and make bookmarks for you if you're an avid reader)

his love language is def gift-giving and touch!! holds your pinky with his, lets you hold onto his arm when you're out in public, and holds you from behind while you're talking with other people.

When he's sick he'll try and hide it because he feels like getting sick makes him weak and useless. ( Once you realize this you'll have to persuade him to let you take care of him. )

At the start of the relationship, I'd feel like he wouldn't be very into PDA mostly because he isn't all too used to it and hasn't been exposed to other couples doing PDA in front of him. But after a few years, it'll be the exact opposite problem will cling to you like a koala bear. Hugs from behind, sweet neck kisses, arm hung loosely around your waist, etc... He can't be away from his darling for too long or he might die!!

uses dramatization for humor, it started off as his version of trying to be sarcastic after you explained to him sarcasm. But he didn't quite catch on...

" Be careful Choso!" you called out to him as he pushed off to the ice skating rink. Recently the icey weather has made it possible to open up a skating rink so you and Choso decided to go and give it a try. Choso says he's great at skating since he and his brothers skated all the time at their non-ice skating rink. You tried to explain to him that they weren't exactly the same but didn't have the heart to break his confidence. Now you rush to put your skate on as your boyfriend waits patiently, well about as patient as a puppy, for you to join him. " let's go," he says holding your hand gently as you both step onto the rink, and for a second you think he might be okay. For a second only though... CRASH Now you stare at your boyfriend whose face planted right onto the ice and was still lying on the rink not being able to get up. as he keeps slipping back down your laughter only grows, you reach your hand out to him to help him steady himself, "I think you may be the greatest skater I've ever seen hunny" You tease. As he rises his face is full of confusion and he turns to look at you. "Baby I think to be a good skater you have to be able to stand?" He corrects you. "I'm being sarcastic chos- " "What is sarcastic?"

now every time he sucks at something he quickly jokes that he is the absolute best at it

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I plan on continuing writing when I have the chance so please leave suggestions in the comments down below! I would greatly appreciate it! I may even do an NSFW ver. of Choso headcannons.

#jjk x reader #choso jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso #choso x you #choso x y/n

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sunderlust · 2 years

Text

won't you keep lettin' me love you for a long time (rooster)

masterlist

pairing: rooster x f!reader

synopsis: you drive rooster home after one too many margaritas

warnings: fluff, smidge of angst (mentions of grief, death, bradley losing his parents)

wc: ~2k

note: a wise person - aka may - once told me to never scrap your writing, even if you’ll never use it again. I was gonna backspace the first draft of this - actually wrote it for another angsty Jake what’s new - but then rooster inspiration struck (roospiration, if you will) (actually don’t that just looks like perspiration) (I mean I’d love to have rooster’s sweat- nvm)

sorry long ramble aside here’s something short and sweet after my last angsty fic 💕

“You’re way too good of a friend to me,” Rooster grins sloppily as he slumps over the bartop in front of you. Honestly, he’s pretty lucky they had just wiped down the counter. At any other moment, it’d be sticky with beer and sweet and sour and he’d run the risk of getting a pistachio shell stuck to his mustache.

“Yeah, perhaps I am,” you half-seriously agree with a smile and slide a full glass of ice water towards him, then lean back in your own chair to observe a drunk Rooster trying to manage a few gulps while smiling like a goober at the colorful liquor bottles lined up on the shelf.

The bar’s been long empty, most aviators having taken their leave thirty minutes after the last call. Bradley usually heads out earlier than this - doesn’t like staying out late and messing up his perfectly curated bedtime routine. But tonight was a reunion of sorts with his old classmates, and they went through quite a few margaritas.

You joined about an hour ago, and Bradley immediately elected to sit with you and engage in wonderfully mindless chit-chat. You’re not complaining at all - every moment you can spend with the gorgeous aviator is a moment to cherish. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to get all the gossip on his current students at TOPGUN - like the three that are involved in a devastating love triangle that’s most definitely exacerbated by Bradley always grouping them - a move he most certainly took out of Pete Mitchell’s book (“They need to focus on the job, not distract themselves with high school theatrics,” he ranted to you earlier).

“Hold on, wait,” Bradley suddenly says, then springs himself upright and focuses hard on you. “If I squint just right...” he screws up his face, almost going cross-eyed. “I can see two of you!” Bradley’s mustache quirks with his smile, and his entire face lights up like the sun. “Goddamn. What a sight.”

“You’re hammered,” you scoff in an attempt to conceal how much the term of endearment affects you, how it makes your entire body feel warm and tingly because you secretly love it when he’s this open and brazen with you, tossing out flirtatious remarks with no hidden agenda besides trying to put a smile on your face.

“I’m not hammered - they call me Rooster,” he replies breezily and you swat at his shoulder, turning away to hide your smile and raising your other hand to flag someone down to close out Bradley’s tab.

After handing over your card (despite Bradley’s drunken attempts to sway the bartender against letting you pay) - you finally stand up. “Need a lift back home?” you ask him with a teasing lilt to your voice. It’s a rhetorical question - he’s got no other way home besides an overpriced Uber - but he still hums thoughtfully. Slowly, he lifts his head and surveys you while drumming his fingers on the wood.

“I.... think that would be best,” he declares, determinedly slapping the counter and attempting to slide off the barstool in a suave manner - it looks more like Bambi on ice, but you can’t deny that it’s still incredibly endearing. He looks up to flash a brilliant, a bit lopsided smile at you. “I’ll see if ‘Nix can pick me up early to grab my car in the morning.”

You laugh, slide your purse off from the back of the chair, and think to yourself about how he’ll have to find out for himself tomorrow that he didn’t even drive here.

Your car rolls to a stop right outside a quaint, one-story bungalow, and you shift into park before unlocking the door and sitting patiently. Bradley’s quiet - as he’d been the entire ride home - and you chance a brief look at him. He’s sitting up, now looking straight back at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Evidently, there are one too many thoughts running around in his tequila-addled brain.

“You okay?” you ask him, eyes seeking out his in the darkness of one AM.

A few seconds of silence roll by, each ticking louder with your beating heart. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Think I may have had a bit too much.”

“I’ll say,” you snort. “You didn’t even say anything when someone queued up Foghat earlier.”

“Fuck Foghat,” Bradley groans out and leans back against the headrest. “And fuck Jake for ruining a perfectly decent song.”

You hum reassuringly and eye his dark figure carefully, watch the shadow of his chest rise and fall steadily, and find yourself matching his breathing. “You sure you’re alright?”

His head lolls to the side as he appraises you. Finally, he lets out a long sigh. “Yeah, I just...” he trails off, fingers tapping mindlessly on the console. “You’re my best friend,” he says at last. “And you’re so... good”

Bradley shifts into the tiniest sliver of light, eyes glinting with the reflection of the street lamp glowing outside. You hold your breath, not sure if he can even see you or what he means by it, or what will come out of his mouth. “You’re so kind and good to everyone. Even me. And I don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve you,” he says with so much sincerity your heart breaks at him thinking that he’s not deserving of benevolence, friendship, or even love.

You open your mouth to object, to reassure him that it’s very much the opposite, but he beats you to it with words that make your heart bounce around wildly in your chest, yearning to jump right out and press up against his. “I wish my mom and dad got to meet you.”

It punches all the air out of you, and you just sit and look at him solemnly, somehow at a loss for words.

Bradley has carried grief with him since he was four years old. One day, he’s learning about all the different species of dinosaurs from a book his uncle had gifted him, and the next day, he finds out that his dad won’t be coming home, and he’s discovered something new - a little thing called loss. And years later, loss greets him once again with a bittersweet kiss on both cheeks as it tears away his loving mother and his traitorous Uncle Pete. And for some time, it’s just Bradley and his grief, the dynamic duo, a force to be reckoned with as he swears to uphold his father’s legacy, to make Carole and Goose proud (even Maverick, on a subatomic level).

You know some time back, he figured out why Mav pulled his papers - to appease Carole, sweet Carole, who didn’t want her son to see the same fate as Goose. You know Bradley wonders if his parents would be disappointed in him for still following his dreams. The worst part about losing his parents is that he’ll never know how they’d feel about the man he’s become. It’s especially easy for him to believe he hasn’t done enough.

“Bradley,“ you start, throat closing up as your mind races, as you search for the right sequence of reassuring words. “I think you deserve the world.”

You think back to the early days of getting to know him - shortly after you’d moved to San Diego and found him in some dive bar near the ocean. You remember coming back to the bar with your coworkers on Thursday nights, wistfully sending glances his way across the room and trying to muster up the courage to talk to him, ask him to hang back for a drink, ask him if he likes pancakes or waffles in the mornings because you want to know what to make for him after rocking his world (that last sentiment may have been heavily gin-fueled). It was a simple crush at first.

You recall the day he slid up next to you, bought your next drink, and asked you to join him for a round of darts (which you failed miserably at - somehow it’s much harder in real life than GamePigeon). You remember the laughter, the neverending conversation, the comforting feeling of having a new friend. A great friend - one who always lends a listening ear, makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, who brought you his mom’s famous tomato soup when you got the flu.

Phoenix says he’s usually stuck in his head and thinks too much - but in the time you’ve known him, he’s never spared a second thought when it comes to you.

In a rush, you return to the present, where he’s sitting in front of you with glistening eyes and a drunk mouth speaking words you know cross his sober mind every day. His face is crumbling with emotions that he usually keeps under lock and key because he can’t let it get in the way of his job, can’t let it mess him up when he’s flying or teaching. For whatever reason, this is the side of him that he only feels comfortable enough to show you.

Slowly, you reach over the console to interlace your fingers together and pull his hand up to your mouth to press a sweet kiss to the back of it. He squeezes once. “You know that they’re always here,” you tell him. “Every part of them that they’ve given up has made you the wonderful man you are now. In that way, you always have them with you. And they’d be so damn proud of you. I wish I had the chance to meet them, but I know they’d agree.”

He’s nodding his head with your words as if he’s shaking them around his mind in an attempt to instill their meaning. “And...” You press another kiss to the back of his hand. “I’d say you’re my best friend, too,” you say, whispering mock-conspiratorially.

The grin that slides over his face makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, flying around wildly, completely shredding your intestines but that’s a problem for later because right now Bradley, who has to be the love of your life, is smiling like he just won the lottery, like he’s the luckiest man in the world. Suddenly he’s leaning in, reaching a hand out to brush a piece of loose hair behind your ear and then cup your cheek lovingly, and he’s kissing you like you’re the air he breathes.

You return with fervor; his mustache scrapes roughly against your nose and you can still taste the cheap sour marg mix on his tongue and you can definitely sense how drunk he is by the lack of coordination he exhibits every time your teeth clash together. But it’s real and raw and beautiful all at once, and he’s kissing you like he did the first time all those years ago, as he did on the beach when you said yes to forever, as he did months ago after you exchanged I do’s in a small but beautiful ceremony.

You’ll always prefer messy kisses over anything else, and you’ll always love Bradley with his grief wholly and unconditionally.

Bradley, now seeming to be the slightest bit soberer, breathes in deeply, pulls back slightly, slowly grazes your cheekbone with his thumb as he tries to look at you in the darkness of what must be one-fifteen now. “Thanks,” he says genuinely. Doubt is still festering its prickly self inside him, but he’s grounded now and is comfortably tethered to you.

“Always,” you promise to your best friend, to your partner, to your husband, then surge forward to press another kiss to his lips before moving to unbuckle his seatbelt. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies ardently and pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then turns to fumble for the car handle. He pauses and lowers his head to look out the window where his Bronco is parked right next to yours. “Hold up - I didn’t drive tonight?”

You stifle a laugh and grab your bag from the back seat. “Think your age is showing, honey.”

Bradley squawks out in indignation and stutters through a couple of rebuttals before sighing and burying his face in his hands. “I hate this. Why did you let me drink this much?”

“I showed up later, babe,” you tell him. “Think you can blame Jake for the margs.”

Another groan sounds out from him. “Of fucking course it’s Jake’s fault.”

With a little bit of coordinated effort, the two of you manage to walk (stumble, in Bradley’s case) up the stone pathway leading to the front porch, unlock the door, and step into your shared home together. And later that night, you lay down next to a softly snoring Bradley, think about all the moments that brought you to him, and drift away on the feeling of utter devotion.

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster one shot #rooster imagine #tgm fic #sol writes

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berriblossom · 4 months

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Hi can I make a request of Casper from a date with death with a short s/o that’s chubby and a baker and is a otaku and is a tomboy but still likes some cute things tho

I just wanna see some domestic things for Casper

-> This is so much cuteness! Thank you for the ask!

-> What he loves most | Casper x gn!reader! -> Second POV, just fluff!

There were a lot of things Casper had to get used to when he had his newfound freedom from being a reaper of souls. Many of which he happily shared with you.

Whether it was going through old manga that you had stored on your shelves that he read in his free time, or watching old animation films you bought for him to entertain himself with. Some nights if he felt up to it, he'd ask to wear a face mask while watching a new show of yours. He may not understand the concept of "fighting for your honor back " but he'd watch if it makes you happy. Another thing Casper loves while doing this is laying his head on your thighs or tummy. Slowly as you watch the film you'll notice him lean closer and closer to you as the show goes on. Soon enough he's lying on your thighs commenting about the protagonist being too bright or obnoxiously loud. (if you mention anything about being the same way to him, he will deny it and say you get an exception because his sunshine is supposed to be bright and vibrant.) He will also remind you if the show you are watching or catching up on has new episodes, just to remind you and make you smile at the end of a work day.

If you like playing games of any sort, he is down but is competitive and kind of a grandpa.(remember the emoji convo) so be patient with him. He is trying. I see Casper as the type of gamer to play the Sims and never leave the computer, just designing his future with you, your pet, Azrael, and a garden for you. (with a large kitchen and space for baking, with a personal room for you and your novelties and books). Don't let him play a horror game. He either makes fun of it for the overdramatic deaths or he'll challenge it. Either way, the fear factor won't work on him like that(in my opinion) but try and delete the 4 bedroom and 3 bath home on the Sims he made for you, there you will get tears and screams.

Another thing Casper likes is your job. Even though he has mentioned that reapers don't need to eat, sleep, or breathe somehow he is always jumping at the occasion whenever you text him about bringing home any baked goods or pastries from the shop home to him and Azrael. (yes, him too because it is an excuse for you to bring more to share) It doesn't matter what you pick, he'll eat it with an adorable face of joy. He sometimes will come down to the bakery and help if you need it.

While making fun of you for being "below the average mortal height" that he has seen over the years. You can flirt as much as you want to but, Casper will always use his height to his advantage. If you're in the shop and need something from a high shelf or above the fridge? Ask him politely to inflate his ego a little bit and then he will help you. While placing his tease a bit. Looking for something specific but can't seem to find it. He placed it on top of the fridge in "sky jail" because you teased him earlier about liking cream in his mouth. Now you'll never finish the dessert you were making unless you go to find the step stool. (which he has also put in a higher place to piss you off more.)

Cuddling sessions after a tiring day of work are as ethereal as Casper is. Had a hard day at work? Get in the blanket with him, he might be as frigid as a frozen tundra but his cuddles and affectionate squeezes and words of encouragement are just as warm. A customer made you a little upset? Oh, trash needed to go out on Thursday anyway (that's a joke, unless...).

The best learning experience for Casper is when he tries to bake or cook with you, he doesn't know the proper measurements for anything, it's random bullshit and go for him. But he will listen to your instructions. While he is intently measuring the sugar, water, and yeast mixture with full concentration, if you go up to him and give him a kiss or hug him from behind he'll shoo you away and mumble about how he was so kind to be helping you at work. FOR FREE. But after a few minutes, he'll ask for your assistance on a task and will cling to you like glue. Will he get flour in his hair? You'll never know, but he will snipe samples and test batches of anything you'll make. Your coworker's batches? Not so much. Even if it is hot garbage in your opinion he will still eat it up as if he was starved.

All in all, Casper can be a little shit or sweetheart for you. Just bring some extra snacks for him and Azrael for the next few days while he is on that Sims 4 dream home.

#xoxokuki💜#xokuki blog #kuki's writing #xokuki writes #xoxokuki #a date with death grim #a date with death casper #a date with death #a date with death x reader #casper x reader #grim reaper #grim reaper x reader #hes so cute #kuki answers 💜#on this blog we respect Azrael

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

WIBTA for asking my spouse to open up our relationship?

Tl;dr: He said no years ago but our sex life is non-existent and I'm climbing the walls.

Full story:

Me (early 30s, NB) and my partner (late 30s, M) have been together for over a decade. We have a kid, a mortgage and enough interests in common to keep each other entertained. He's a genuinely good person and the last thing I want to do is hurt him. BUT.

We met before I hit 20, and he was my first ever serious relationship. Our sex life tanked about two years in, but we both had other things going on, and over time I blamed many different factors: living conditions, shift work, my weight gain, health issues, differences in upbringing, levels of queerness - you name it. In the last few years I helped him through a serious medical condition (think two surgeries and a long recovery), but once he was nominally in the clear my mental health went down the drain and I haven't really been back to normal since.

For a while, I had a really good counsellor and for once got to talk about some of the less savoury shit going on in my noggin. It all ended up on a Realisation that we only had sex while sober on a laughably small number of occasions, and any and all attempts on my part to spice things up ended at best with affectionately confounded denial or just a straight up brick wall. I got sober a few years before he did (I'm talking 'uh oh maybe we're having too many too often' rather than 'out of control alcoholism'), which effectively ended our sex life altogether. At this point I'm looking at a solid year since my husband last touched me, and even then it was after he came home from a pub in a silly mood so neither of us ended up getting much out of it. And it's not even the longest stretch.

I floated this as an issue a number of times, and every time he agreed it's something to work on then did precisely zilch. I told him point blank once that I wouldn't be opposed to an open relationship, but he was vehemently against, because that's the first step to a break up in his mind. I suggested he might be ace (there are several clues to that, not just my increasingly unhinged internet history), bought the book as a way to start a discussion - he put it on a shelf and never looked at it again.

After my Big Bad Breakdown earlier this year we ended up in family counselling. It quickly became clear that there are so many things he just Didn't Consider that the sex thing didn't even get mentioned, then we ran out of slots and he hasn't followed up on any of his revelations from the sessions, so I feel like digging in is a lost cause.

I love him, don't want to leave him and quite frankly couldn't even if I did because the UK is a financial ruin. I also have some extremely unfulfilled needs, and can't even rub one out in peace because he finds it weird (???). Even if I didn't find cheating morally Too Far it sounds exhausting and I already have too much going on. I haven't been the easiest person to be around for the last few months, but this has been a years-long issue. So, WBITA to start the conversation on the open relationship again, despite the negative feedback I had previously?

(If it helps, we both have different flavours of neurodivergence, although mine is under treatment and his largely ignored.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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mangowafflesss · 7 months

Text

Bomb Protection | Soap x GuardianAngel!Reader

Summary: Being assigned someone to protect is simple enough, keep them out of danger - but what about someone who keeps putting themselves in danger on a day to day basis.

Word Count: 2K+

Mythic Month HQ

★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★

You hummed softly as you ran your fingers over the spines of old and sacred tomes. Your days were filled with wandering around these same four walls, your mind filled with boredom as you awaited for your skills to be put to use.

You had just reached the age where you could finally be a part of the ‘Protection Programme’ you were given a choice and deciding to follow in your parents footsteps you would become a guardian Angel. When growing up around your elders you loved to sit in front of the fire listening to the stories they told you about their first human - it either went terribly or it went as perfect as could be, you had hoped yours would be the latter.

You look up at the high ceilings and look around the room before spreading your wings and grabbing a book off the highest shelf. You're not allowed to use your wings in the library due to an incident which involved an Angel crashing into the wooden shelving and toppling them over, many books were damaged and were in desperate need of repair…

Smiling you hold the book in your hand but then hear a cough and drop it out of your hand, quickly flying down you catch it before it hits the ground and then turn to the person who just entered.

“You know you're not supposed to be doing that, but I'll turn a blind eye as you caught it before it touched the ground”

“I’m sorry father…” you whisper as you lowered your head, the book was still in your grip and you slowly placed it onto a table next to you.

“Don’t worry my dear child, come, I have something exciting to show you” he holds out an arm and you go to him with curiosity. His arm rests around your shoulders as he walks you through the halls you could probably recite and draw with your eyes closed.

He opened the door and inside stood one of the head Angels, you felt nervous as you approached them but the feeling quickly disappeared as you saw them smile at you.

‘Okay i'm not in trouble… that's a good start’

Swallowing your fears you stood before him and bowed in respect, just how you normally would. Everything's fine, you're in no trouble, you remind yourself over and over as you wait for them to speak, everything is really making you want to run and fly to the nearest waterfall.

“After your results I think it's finally ready for you to begin your destiny” he begins and you feel a spark of electricity lick up your spine, you were finally going to get to protect someone. “This man, Johnny MacTavish is who you'll protect to the best of your abilities. I assure you that if you fail to keep him safe and out of harm's way you will be severely punished. Any questions?”

You stared at the paper pushed in your direction and quickly signed the bottom to seal your protection for the man. “We wish you all the best on your journey ” he nods with a hand over his chest. You bow in their direction and exit the room, carefully trying to not show how excited you were to finally be able to protect someone.

Rushing back to your room you sat on your chair and closed your eyes. You were bound to him now and wanted nothing more than to see who he was.

Seeing him in your mind made a smile break out on your face, your very first human! How exciting!

Looking down on him you watch as he talks with a few other men and women. They had bottles in their hands as they stood around a pool table watching a current game, you’ve never played but they seemed to be enjoying their time together.

Listening in you heard a loud laugh and wince at the volume of it. “You’re one lucky fucker MacTavish, you could’ve blown off half your arm” a man laughs but Johnny shrugs while bringing his drink up to his lips. “Someone must be looking out for me” he points to the ceiling and you gasp out loud, they are never supposed to know about the angels protecting them, that could result in something disastrous.

“You believe in that crap?” you make a face of disgust at the man's words and immediately put him on your list of people you don't like - there isn't anyone else on this list but he will be at the top written in gold. “If it saves me from becoming a pincushion for shrapnel then yes I believe in that crap” you don’t like their choosing of words but if he truly believes in you then you’ll let it slide - for now.

Over the next few days you’ve had fun watching Johnny or Soap is what you’ve found out to be his name. You were confused but didn’t dwell on it too much and learnt as much as you could about this man. You’d visited him one time while he was sleeping and you were planning on doing so tonight, you weren’t supposed to but what if something happens while he’s asleep?

Appearing into his room was always easy due to your powers but sometimes you wondered if someone would ever just catch you. You knew no one would but there’s always a risk.

Creeping closer to the man on the small cot your eyes roam over his body for any injuries - you knew there aren’t any due to you watching him all day but still wanted to make sure.

His soft snores filled your ears as you got closer. He looked so peaceful as if all of his worries had disappeared, you knew his job was quite stressful but sometimes he doesn’t look that stressed.

He shifts in his sleep and hits himself in the face with his hand, you stifle a laugh and furrow your brows at him. The only thing you need to protect him from is his unconscious self. Reaching out your hand you grab onto his wrist and move the arm away from his face, you didn’t know exactly what he could do to himself in his sleep so it’s better you don’t find out.

As soon as you put his hand onto his chest he jolts awake and you let out a small noise before hiding in the shadow of his room. He grumbled as he rubbed his eyes and looked over in your direction, you stayed still as possible and when he grumbled again he flopped back down and dozed off. Johnny was an interesting person to watch every day, sometimes he did questionable things that didn’t make sense but you shrugged them off and ignored them.

Your wings fluttered due to you being on earth for far too long without a reason. You would just have to watch him from the comfort of your home in the clouds.

You don’t know how many times you’ve sent him messages to his mind about moving away from something dangerous but it was more than what you could count on one hand. These messages you send are what humans say are their sixth sense or gut feeling, you do this so you can manage him from afar instead of actually going down to earth and helping him out. He listens eight percent of the time which is good enough for you as he has never become hurt due to your decisions.

A month later you felt an uncomfortable twitch in your back, you hadn't checked in with your little human yet as he shouldn't be awake. But this was something urgent.

Closing your eyes you see him in your mind and gasp out loud. If it was possible for you to have a heart attack you probably would have had about five right now, all at once.

Johnny stood in the middle of a room looking down at a device which has a timer strapped to it, from your knowledge you know its a bomb anyone could clearly see but the thing that grabs your attention is the digits counting down from five. You know he could probably achieve diffusion in those five seconds but you weren't going to take any chances.

He wasn't moving which annoyed you. You had sent him messages to his mind to tell him to get out of there but he wasn't listening. “I'm sending him a feeling and he's choosing to ignore it?! Why are humans so difficult” you mumble to yourself as you quickly find his location and get there.

You grab onto the back of his vest and cover his head as you pull him to the ground, your body and wings shield him from the blast of the bomb but you're far enough away that it didn’t damage him.

Looking down at the man in your arms you assess any damage done to him - which is luckily none - and swiftly make an exit, you don't particularly need him seeing you and asking questions. But as your back was turned you didn’t see that your human was in fact looking in your direction admiring your fluffy white wings.

Later that night you checked in on him and saw he was wide awake staring at the ceiling. You saw his phone lying next to him unlocked, reading what he just did, you looked from the phone and back to his face.

‘How to talk to your Guardian Angel’ was what it said and you had a mild moment of panic, you knew you shouldn’t have saved him like that and he must've seen you leave.

“Stupid stupid, this is bad… but would it be so bad?” you paced the library while chewing on your lip deep in thought. Walking over to a bookshelf you pick up a book of rules and flick through them until you find the one you need. Once you read through the page your frown is replaced with a smile.

‘If a human chooses to communicate with the Angels, the Angel who protects them may come forth and show themselves but ONLY if the Angel feels the pull towards said human’

Once you close the book and place it back where it came from you feel a different sensation come from your wings, as if you’re being pulled or dragged? You smile and realise what's happening, your human is trying to call for you.

Straightening out your clothes you concentrate on where he is and vision yourself being in there, when you open your eyes you see him still laying on the bed staring at the ceiling.

“Hello!” you greet and he visibly jumps in the air and off the edge of his bed, you hurry to his side and help him up off the floor with a gentle tug of his arm.

His eyes connect with yours and you could see he was shocked to see you. “Hi…” he says before standing up straight and looking you up and down.

“Your… actually here, heh oh my. I'm sorry I'm a little speechless, I'm Johnny MacTavish” he holds out a hand and you take his rough one in your soft palm. “I know who you are” you state and he looks at you with curiosity in his eyes.

Guiding him over to his bed you softly take a seat with him next to you. “This may sound strange but perhaps not as strange as you think it may be. I am your Guardian Angel” your voice sounded so angelic and he couldn’t take his eyes off you, they weren’t kidding when they said angels were supposed to be pretty creatures.

“Are you the one who saved me?” nodding your head to confirm he lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Why me?”

Taking his hand in yours you give it a squeeze before turning it over palm side up. “Some are given one at birth, some are given them at random points in their life, some ask for one which is what you did” your eyes move away from his palm and to his face, he looked embarrassed almost.

“I didn't think anyone would listen… I was nearly dead when I did it, it probably came out as a mumble but obviously it didn't”

“You were heard loud and clear, your job is very dangerous may I add. I've been watching you and gosh would you please stop with the explosives” you scold him in a serious voice, but he just laughs.

“I can’t but perhaps I'll think before I decide to try and defuse one that's on the verge of blowing up” you look at him in an intimidating way and he holds his hands in the air “promise! You don’t have to worry about that, but the thought of you being there makes me feel better about going about my job”

“Well i have to protect you for as long as you shall live so we’re stuck until that day comes” you smile and he gives you an equally big one back. You stand up from the edge of his bed and flutter your wings a little bit, you need to get back.

“Will I see you again?”

“If you ask for me, I'll come. I'm always watching too so make sure you remember that” he blushes and scratched his neck awkwardly before nodding.

“I must go now, don't get into too much trouble or else I'll have to punish you myself”

“Are all Angels bossy or is it just you” you let out a small giggle before shaking your head “Stay out of trouble, goodbye Johnny”

“Until next time” he whispers and once he blinks you’re gone…

#Mangos Mythic Month🦇˚｡･��✧:･.:#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #john soap mactavish

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bookstantrash · 21 days

Text

A/N: okay so it’s been a good while since I’ve posted anything here on tumblr but the last year has been kinda insane as I’m nearing graduation, and my new internship is keeping me very busy.

I have two more one shots written and one half written, but after that I don’t know how long till I’m able to write again and post. Either way, I hope you enjoy this one shot!

But this love is brave and wild

Nesta had not intended to snoop through Cassian’s papers. He was — if she was honest with herself — the most organised out of them. Nesta Archeron being a messy person was something that had come as a surprise to Cassian and he teased her endlessly about it.

“I can find everything I need with no problem,” she had argued once when they were laying in bed, “therefore I am not messy. My organisation method is just different from yours General ‘I Colour Code My Folders’ Archeron”

“Whatever you say Nes,” Cassian had laughed, tightening his arms around her. Her mate, she had discovered, was an incorrigible cuddler “I still love you even if you don’t believe in the practicality of keeping things in one place”

She was always leaving books and hairpins all over the House, discarding her boots after training somewhere and forgetting to take them to their room, her notes about the Valkyries, military and Mind Stilling techniques forgotten and scattered in any surface available. The House was constantly gathering and leaving them on her desk, but it usually took her two to three days until she got the courage to sort and put them away properly. Cassian’s tidy and neatly arranged papers — sorted by importance and filled with carefully written notes — made his desk a stark contrast to her mountain of spread out ones in her side of the room they had transformed into their study room.

They had learned early on that they would never be capable of doing any actual work in their own room when their bed was only a few steps away.

Not that they had not fucked in each and every surface of the House, their study included. It just made the temptation of being all over each other slightly smaller.

Nesta had entered the study and was tidying her desk after the House had made the bathtub water cold and dumped on top of her towel the papers she had forgotten at the dining table.

“I was going to get them later,” Nesta had said, and in turn the military book Cassian had lent her had fallen on the little floating table she used when she wanted to read in the bathtub. She had been meaning to return it to him for over a week, the book forgotten amid her pile of romance books on her bedside table.

“Fine,” she had added, “I got the memo, I will put them in the study.”

So Nesta had gotten dressed in a bathrobe — she had every intention of going back to a bubble bath as a reward for tidying up her things — reordered her romance book stack, and set off for the study, grabbing any paper she had forgotten along the way. She was putting his book on the shelf when she noticed that Cassian had a few papers outside his drawer, something unusual to him.

“I better at least put the paperweight on top of them,” she thought to herself. She did not want to mess up her mate’s drawers and folders in her attempt to clean his desk.

Cassian had left in a hurry after lunch to Illyria — Emerie, Balthazar and him were trying to transform an old property into an orphanage and residence for those who had no place to go. For now the plans were to see how things would go in Windhaven, and then replicate the same in other camps. Apparently some problems had arisen concerning the renovations and he had left to sort things out. That explained why his space was uncharacteristically ‘messy’ for his standards.

Nesta lined his pens and was stacking the papers in a pile when one in particular caught her eye. Most of them were reports regarding Illyria or the Valkyries training plans, but the small piece of paper full of bullet points and notes scribbled in a hurry was neither.

“Is this a checklist of some sorts?” she mumbled to herself, reading it. If it was, Nesta could not make sense of it, for there were sometimes only a page number and an acronym in the same bullet point — “pg. 43, UTOT” — or phrases and even single words thrown around that made no sense — “ smell of rain”, “traditional dances”, “unicorns”, “pudding”, “peppermint”, “braids” and so on.

The list intrigued Nesta. Maybe Cassian was playing scattergories or some other game with Azriel or Gwyn again and had forgotten to throw it away. Nesta and Emerie had since long ago given up on playing with them — their competitive streak when combined was insufferable, and both girls had decided they would rather discuss their latest read than go through a discussion if “ice” could be considered a colour or not — but Cassian kept playing. According to him their bickering was amusing to watch despite the chances of him winning being rare.

Nesta wondered if Cassian had other lists somewhere, if together they could help her make sense of what they were exactly. She would have to ask him when he came back — which she hoped happened soon. It was almost time for dinner, and they always had their meals together. When they had an assignment that did not require them to stay more than a day away — Nesta had accepted the position of emissary, although she chose which places she wanted to go and with who she wanted to work with, not to say that it gave her a chance to travel for free — they always tried to come back in time to share meals together. And Cassian had also promised to bake a cake for her, nevermind they lived in a magical house who could do it itself.

So Nesta returned to her bubble bath, the hot water making her sigh with pleasure. A book appeared on her floating table moments later.

“Is this your way of saying ‘good job’ for organising my things?” she asked the House, which made a peppermint tea appear too.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and the faelight near the sink glowed brighter, as if it was saying ‘you’re welcome’.

Nesta ended up staying in the bath until her fingers resembled an old lady’s and she had finished her book. It was now late afternoon and no sight of Cassian. She debated starting another book, but she knew it would make her miss her mate even more. She always pictured him as the love interest in her novels.

“Pull yourself together,” Nesta said to herself “it has been less than a day. It is not like we have to be attached to each other all the time”

Truth to be told, Nesta had become rather clingy when it came to Cassian — not as much as him, she doubted there existed someone as affectionate and tender as her mate — but after their mate and wedding ceremony she found herself more comfortable expressing her feelings. She enjoyed having lazy days where she and Cassian would stay near the fireplace — either reading or just talking — or when Cassian would try and teach her how to cook — she now managed to not burn bread but that was it. He was always touching her — a hand on the small of her back, a brush of his hand against hers when he was passing her food, intertwining their legs when they were laying down, flicking her nose when she got annoyed at him… it seemed impossible for him to keep his hands to himself. And that did not bother Nesta at all. In fact, she loved it, and she had realised that she had denied herself of love and made herself so touch starved for so long that now that she could bask in it she was becoming greedy.

For her utter annoyance, Cassian did not return in time for dinner. Nesta ended up going to Feyre’s house to have dinner, and the sight of Nyx — who had just begun to walk — cheered her up a little, as did the chocolate cookies Elain had baked, although she could not help but think about the chocolate cake she had been promised.

Cassian ended up arriving at the House very late into the night, finding Nesta on their bed buried beneath furs, even with the fire lowly crackling in the hearth.

“Hello Nes,” Cassian greeted his mate the second he stepped inside their room, leaving a kiss on top of her head to not interrupt her reading.

“You are late,” was all she said, turning a page. She had ended up choosing one of his war texts to keep herself busy, but his scrawled notes on the margins of the pages did not help her longing.

“I am sorry sweetheart,” he kneeled on the floor beside their bed, taking her free hand on his and playing with her wedding band “Things at Windhaven took longer to resolve than I had intended and Emerie and Balthazar wanted to go over some new plans”

“What can I do to make you forgive me?” Cassian kissed her fingers, giving her his best puppy eyes.

“For starters you can take a bath,” Nesta wrinkled her nose at the dried mud on his boots “And dry your hair properly, I would rather not have you winning about feeling sick later”

“As you wish, Lady Death. Even if the idea of being bedridden and having you take care of me is very tempting” he said with a wink “I will leave you to your book in the meantime.”

Cassian came back less than ten minutes later, leathers gone in favour of soft cotton pants and no shirt, drying his hair with a towel.

“Bath taken and dirty boots have been put away,” he declared, placing the towel on a chair — the House vanishing it moments later — and grabbing a comb.

He sat beside Nesta on the bed, not having to say anything, only extending the brush in her direction. It had become natural to care for each other’s hair. Nesta still remembered the day she had asked her mate for help with the pins keeping her braid in place, Cassian almost falling in his rush to get to her. He had tenderly taken each one out, massaging her scalp later and carefully brushing her hair.

And the next time they had taken a bath together he had grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair before she could even move. Nesta had almost fallen asleep in the tub with the way he gently shampooed and rinsed her hair. Cassian had confessed to her one day that he had an unhealthy obsession with her hair.

“Oh I know,” she had said with a small secretive smile “I see how you look at me when I am braiding it”.

She also remembered the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down and had called it beautiful, making her blush furiously. And since he began taking care of it Nesta could swear that it had gotten stronger and shinier.

Considering how silky and shiny his hair was, it did not surprise her at all.

Nesta, it turned out, also had an unhealthy obsession with her mate’s hair.

She enjoyed washing and combing it, be it after a bath or after he had come back from a flight from somewhere. She enjoyed learning new braids to braid his hair, especially now that Emerie was teaching her traditional Illyrian hairstyles. She had gotten interested after she saw his hair for their wedding-mate ceremony.

“The Illyrans take great pride in their rituals,” Emerie had told her during the party after the ceremony “Back when we were constantly at war, many years ago during Enalius time, the wives of the warriors would braid tokens of good luck and protection for their husbands. Those with long hair also asked them to apply that pattern to their hairstyle, and we integrated in our culture the costume of different braid patterns depending on the occasion: wars, festivals and ceremonies such as burials and weddings”

“The hairstyle Cassian has now is the common braid style used at wedding ceremonies at Windhaven” Emerie had given her a soft smile “Cassian has no living female relatives, so he asked me to do it for him. I’ve never seen him sit so still for so long”

“Could you teach me?” Nesta had asked, feeling shy all of a sudden “I would like to learn them all so I can braid his hair… and our children’s when the time comes.”

“Of course,” her friend had said, and now whenever they had time Emerie would teach her.

Nesta slowly unknotted Cassian’s hair, and by the way he sighed she knew it would not take long for him to fall asleep.

“All done,” she declared, placing the comb near her book on the bedside table.

“Thank you, Nes” he said, slipping under the furs. He intertwined their legs, hugging her close to himself and burying his face on her neck.

Nesta sighed, instantly feeling warmer. Cassian was like a walking furnace, and even without a shirt he was way warmer than her.

“Am I forgiven now, xe nhia?” he asked, nuzzling her neck “I have bathed, dried my hair and am now fulfilling my duties as your personal Illyrian heater.”

“Perhaps.” she ran her fingers over his arm wrapped around her “You do own me a cake, which I was looking very forward to”

“What if I also made you pudding,” he began trailing kisses over her shoulder “would you like that xe r-endy?”

The terms of endearment in Illyrian made her feel so warm and giddy that Nesta almost let slide one word Cassian had said: pudding.

It was one of the words written on that piece of paper, and now she had the perfect opportunity to ask about it.

“Funny of you to ask me about pudding,” she began nonchalantly “I read something about it today”

“You did?” she could hear the surprise in his voice “Please tell me you were not attempting to cook, we all know how it went last time”

“I set fire to the kitchen one time and you never let it go,” she ruffed with annoyance “No, I did not attempt to cook. But I did find a rather interesting and confusing list with the word pudding on it.”

“What,” Cassian raised his head from her shoulder, and Nesta turned around on his arms to look at him.

“I was tidying up my things when I noticed your desk was uncharacteristically messy. I had only planned to put a paper weight on your papers to hold them down but I ended up reading your list,”

“I am sorry if I did not respect your privacy,” Nesta added in a rush, afraid Cassian might get angry “I did not mean to pry but my curiosity got the better of me and I ended up reading it.”

“I am not mad xe nhia,” Cassian said with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “You are free to read any and all papers I have. I have nothing to hide, especially from my mate.”

“I am just embarrassed. That is all” he added, and she could see a faint blush dusting his light brown skin.

“Why would you be embarrassed?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Because,” he took a deep breath “that was one of the lists I made of topics I wanted to talk with you about. Ever since I met you back when you were human and I used to collect the queen’s letters from you, ever since then I would think of fake conversations and scenarios, building entire conversations inside my head so I could impress you with my comebacks.”

“So that time you stayed circling the house for ten minutes…” she inquired.

“I was compiling a list of chosen insults to throw your way, responses to an invented argument” he groaned, hiding his face on her shoulder “Like a complete fool.”

“You did this back when I was human?” Nesta asked, her love for her big kind hearted mate growing impossibly bigger.

“I never stopped, which might make me even a bigger fool than I was back then,” he admitted, face still hidden “Even after that, when you were Made and I used the excuse of exercising my wings to come and see you, and being together with you felt both so close yet so far given the circumstances”

“Cassian…”

“And even later, when we started living at the House and you were going through so much, trying to get better… I kept coming up with them. Topics I wanted to discuss with you, when we were together but not together. When it was just sex, and I was willing to take whatever you gave me because a little of your time, a little of you, was infinitely better than nothing at all.”

“Conversations we could have had, that I wanted us to have. Issues that I wanted to get your opinion on, if only I was not such a coward. It was always so difficult— I was so scared of ruining whatever I had managed to build with you, of losing you forever” he sighed, finally raising his head “I kept all of them. All of the lists. And I keep finding new things I want to talk with you about and since we got together it seems the list never stops growing. As if I am making up for the time lost, because now we do have that time”

Nesta did not know what to say in answer to that. Sometimes, when she had a bad day and felt like the old bitter and angry Nesta — the one who drowned her problems in alcohol and refused to let herself feel anything good at all — she had to remind herself that she was deserving of the love she had now. That she was deserving of her sisters — the old and the new ones — and of her friends and family.

That she was deserving of such a good male like Cassian. Her mate, her husband, her friend and her family.

“You can laugh if you want,” Cassian said, sounding a bit nervous about her reaction “Cauldron knows I must sound like a madman creating make believe arguments”

“Why would I laugh when my mate loves me so much that he cannot help but think of me literally every single moment?” Nesta arched an eyebrow, letting all of her love and adoration for him shine through their bond.

“What you just said is book love interest level, Cassian” she kissed him, burying her hands in his hair “I would be a fool to laugh.”

Nesta could see the relief in his eyes and she smiled. “You can ask me anything you want to know, anytime. Especially if it means you will cook more sweets for me, xe porang termireco”

Cassian groaned, rolling them so his weight pressed her down deliciously.

“You will be the death of me, Lady Death” he whispered, nipping at her ear.

“I thought you were tired from your flight” she breathed as he started kissing her neck.

“You know what you speaking Illyrian does to me,” he argued, “especially when you call me your handsome husband ”

And Nesta made sure to call him plenty of things in Illyrian in the next hours, both of them falling asleep only when the sun was rising.

•

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darkchocoboo · 1 year

Text

make me yours | aether ghoul

summary: You’re something like a headmaster in the abbey and dating Aether.

cw: SMUT, p in v sex, oral (f! receiving), fingering, praising, dirty talk, pet names ( baby, babygirl), cock-warming, poorly translated Latin, unprotected sex

MINORS STAY AWAY!

You were standing behind the pulpit where Copia lectured the new-comers. It was boring, the weather was hot and your feet was aching because your new heels. You just wanted to get the fuck out of there and hide in your room. While Copia was reading and explaining some of the rules to follow in the abbey your eyes got caught one of the ghouls. Your ghoul. The way his black button-up's arms wrapped around his biceps, his calves in his skinny jeans made your mouth water.

"And what if we dont follow the rules? You gonna kill us?" said a new-comer with a grin in their face.

"Maybe Sister Pluvia wants to explain. Hm?" Copia turned to you with boredom on his face, rolling his mismatched eyes.

"Thank you Papa." You walked in to pulpit. Gave a little "I'm gonna fuck up your lives" smile and sighed.

"If you don't follow the rules around here, no no, nobody is gonna get killed. In that situation I'll be giving you chores, after doing the chores you gonna wish you were dead. My friendly advice to you, and I say it with my whole heart, follow the rules."

"Sure honey." New sibling of sin relaxed on their seat like you were joking. That pissed you off. Your knuckles that where holding the pulpit turned white. Your tongue rolled over your red painted lips.

"Dewdrop, take them. They're your personal assistant now." Dew's tail wiggled a little with excitment.

"You can go to your dens now. Welcome and enjoy."

You left the chapel while ghouls and Copia followed you. You walked into your office- chamber with fast steps, kicked your heels off and sat on your leather couch. Sun was coming down, leaving little traces on your walls, covered with book shelfs between drapes. Shining on the glass pieces it hit. Your hands reached over to cristal whiskey bottle sitting on your coffe table. Pouring yourself one while thinking about the day with the new-comers. You cursed Sister Imperator for putting you to this position. It was basicly baby-sitting. You hated telling everyone what to do and what not. But you tried to do your best to keep everyone in line. Even Papa Emeritus IV and his ghouls.

Sometimes it was more hard handling them than newbies. Keeping an eye on Dew so he doesn’t set anything on fire. And Mountain so he doesn’t eats anything un-edible. Telling Rain to take his lazy ass to the practice room for practicing rituals. Keeping Swiss away from new sibling so he doesn’t charm them into his bed. Keeping Aether on ground, not jumping on abbey’s old floors. And getting Copia to do his job as The Papa. It was all on your shoulders with other abbey- Siblings of Sin jobs.

Exhaustion washed over your body. Your head falled back while you sipped the whiskey. Then there was a knock on your door. You exactly know who it was.

"Come in." His big body entered the room with hesitation. Checked the room for another one. When he realized you were alone he relaxed. Took his mask off.

"Hi baby." you murmured while offering him some whiskey. He grabbed the glass, leaning over you and giving you a soft kiss.

"You were a little harsh on that new-comer, don't you think?" You bit your lips with frustration.

"No, Aether. I wasn't. If I let it slide this time they will never respect me or take me serious. Ever. I can't let that happen. It's my job to keep them in line. Keep you in line."

He burried his face to your neck, breathing slowly there to calm you. He wrapped his tail around your arm.

"Sorry. I know it's hard on you too but really? Dew?"

You let out a chuckle. Pulling you to his lap, your side restes on his chest as you sit sideways.

"Maybe it was harsh. It could've been Swiss. Less chaotic."

“He would fuck them.”

He placed a little kiss on your neck. Your hands running over his back wanting more from him. He peppered more kisses down to your cleavage. He changes positions. Now your clothed back vas on couch. Pulling you under him. His smell was filling your nose while he was hovering over you. His hands on your side, you between his legs. You raised your body in need for his lips. Capturing his lips with yours, your tongue running over his lips waiting for an opening to his mouth. His hand resting on your waist run over to your ass squeezing tightly. A moan escaped your lips.

“That dress, that skin tight dress was teasing me all day. How good your ass looks in that while you’re running your little errands in the abbey. The look you give every time you catch me staring at your ass. While giving the welcome talk, you were something else. I like the bossy side of you. Not gonna lie, but I like more how you become a submissive little bitch under me.” His lips touching yours with every word he says.

“A-aet” your moan was short with his lips on yours. Your arms snaking over his big torso to pull him closer to you. His hands grabbed the zipper of the dress and undressed you in seconds, now giving your breast harsh kisses knowing it will bruise.

Aether was a lot different when he was horny. It was like he was somebody else. None of that soft teddy bear side of him was showing. His eyes turns to a deeper tone of purple. Skin turning almost blue like a corpse but hot like fire of the holy Hells was burning inside of his body. Fangs more sharp and he was not ashamed to use them. Claws scratching your body carelessly. You were used to waking up in bruises and scratches on your body. Whole abbey was used to it. His lips peppering kisses on your boobs, down to your navel, leaving wet traces behind.

He wanted to kiss every inch of your body. To mark you on every visible place so everyone knew you belong to him. Never letting anyone to touch you again. He was possessive over you in moments like this.

His lips was now close to your core, giving your inner thighs sloppy open mouthed kisses. Your red painted nails grabbing his locks and pushing him to your core.

“No. Not yet Amor. It’ my time to tease.” His eyes glowing purple and burning your skin. He left a trail of sloppy kisses to your lower belly. Never breaking the eye contact. His breath hit your core over the red mesh thong. It made you more wet.

“Aether, baby please.” You could only mumble under your breath. He got up, leaving you behind like the wet mess you’re.

“No, Y/N. That ain’t the nickname I wanna hear. Try again.” He left you on the couch, got up. He poured himself another glass of whiskey, unbuttoned his black button-ups, throw the fabric to the other side of the room. His hands was hanging from his belt buckle, daring words making you ache under his purple gaze.

You liked how his belly piercing was shining under the light that was escaping from the small slit between the drapes.

“Daddy, please, fuck me.” Your hands trailed his jeans. Slowly walking to his bulge under fabrics.

“If you want, baby. Daddy is gonna give you what you want.” He sat between your legs, his face close to your clothed core. His nose brushing against your core makes you whimper under his touch. He pulled your thong to side as his other hand grabbed your thigh.

“I love your pussy.” Hot breath tickling your folds. “Always s’wet for me, yeah?” He parted your folds with his knuckles. Flat tongue licked your arrousal from your core. Your back arched with his move.

“Taste so sweet baby, always so good. Like you’re my drug. I'm never letting anyone taste you, yeah?"

"No, daddy. No one except you."

His lips covered your clit that was already wet from your arrousal. Pulling your sensitive nub with his lips. His two fingers teased your entrance while he was ruining you with his mouth.

"P-please."

His middle finger finds his way in to your wet cunt. Your walls clenching around him in need to feel full. Leaviny our insides and pushing back in immediately, reaching your deepest spots. Your taste made him moan to your core. Sending vibrations to your whole body. He added the second finger in, streching you sweetly. He curled his fingers inside. Touching your sweet spot. Your hands found his horns and push him between your legs as your thighs closed around his head.

"A-aether, please." He ripped himself from your heat, forcing himself to keep away his lips from your taste. Fingers still inside you as you tried to form a sentence, squirming with the feeling.

"What, baby? Use your words."

"Aeth, I need you. I need you inside me. I need your cock. Please."

"Attagirl."

He unbuckeled his belt in a heartbeat. Ripped his jeans away from his body along with his boxers. You adored his body. You loved his body. His muscles peaks under his squishy soft body. His thick thighs that made you wanted to settle between and spend rest of you mortal life. His calves, his muscular calves, his arms tensed under the feeling, board shoulders, his long stence. You just wanted to live under his skin, as close to him as possible.

“You’re gorgeous.” You said under your breath, blush covering your face as the words escaped your lips.

“Look at you, blushing under me like I just didn’t eat you out.” He placed a kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on them. Hands cupped his cheeks as he found his place between your legs. His painfully hard cock teasing your clit as he kept his lips on yours. His precum mixing with your juices between your legs. You grind yourself agains him to feel him more. His hand grabbed the base of his cock teasing you as he spread mixed liquids to his shaft.

“You don’t even need anything, do you? You just want me to slid right in you filthy whore. You just can’t resist me.” You could just nod, couldn’t reach your words. Already cock-dumb from his acts. His tip forced your entrance. You pushed your hips to his as you wanted more of him. He slowly pushed himself in you. No matter how many times you did this, no matter how much he streched you before it always felt like it wasn’t gonna fit. He bottomed inside you as the burning feeling tickled your walls. Stinging pain turned to a hot devouring one as he waited for you to adjust the feeling. He peppered kisses to your neck and shoulder in a calming manner.

“Aether, move, please.” Those were the only words you could find as your brain turned into jelly.

He started to move in and out of you while he mouthed your hardened nipple. Only thing that was coming out of your mouth was loud moans. Sound of the wet skins slapping his grunts as he got faster echoed in your chamber. He was mumbling praises to your ear but you couldn’ put your brain tpgether to understand it. His hand on your waist find your clit and started to rub it. It was too much for you to handle.

Your climax grow inside of you as he fastened his pace. His cock hit deep inside of you.

“I c-can’t, p-please.”

“You can take it, Amor.” Your legs wrapped aroun his torso was shaking around him with the feeling. He nipped at your neck as his sharp nails dig into your arm. Fangs breaking your skin, red liquid painting his lips.

His thrusts got sloppy as your walls squeezed his length.

“Cum on me, Mel. Cum around my cock. Help me burry my seeds deep in you. Let me put a little ghoul in you. You would look so good with my baby inside you. Oh fuck, Satanas. I want you to have my baby.” Your high hit you as his words filled your ear. With his shaky breath and his dirty words You couldn’t maintain yourself. Your walls clenched around him. Legs hugged his torso thighter which made him moan loud. You pulled him into a kiss to silence your loud moan. Your head got dizzy with his tongue in your mouth. His unique smell filled your nose. You grabbed his horns to hold him in place as he shot his ropes inside you. Ropes and ropes of thick cum filled your insides, burried so deep.

“You’re so good for me, Mel. S’good.” His body weight curshed you under him as your hands brushed against his back.

“I love you, you know that right?”

“I know, Aeth. I love you too.” He placed a soft kiss on your neck, light as a feather.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

****

“Babe, we’re out of coffee I’m going to get some from ghoul common room.” You said while putting his oversized hoodie on yourself. He walked out of the bedroom to your office. Only thing on him was a black towel wrapped around his waist loosely. Your insides tingled with the sight.

“You look so beautiful in my clothes, Cara. I can just bend you over this coffee counter and fuck you for hours.” He trapped you between his big body and counter. Lips brushing your ear in a ticklish way. Your breathes got faster as his bare chest pressed into yours more. You could feel his half hard lenght between your legs.

“I would love that, Aeth. But I have to work.” You pressed a hot kiss on his chin. You caressed his arm as you hold his hand on your way to the door.

“I’m gonna get coffee now” you opened the door but didn’t walk out. You steal a small kiss from his lips. “when I get back” you took a step to the hallway. His lips followed you to the hallway. Dragging his naked body out of the room. “you can do whatever you want to do to me daddy.” He opened his eyes lazily. Then he took a step back.

“Fuck.” He slammed the door to your face as you stand there in shock. You turned back to see what scared him. A sister of sin was standing behind you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath.

“I’m sorry, Sister Pluvia. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m so sorry. I’ll go now.” You squeezed the bridge of your nose. You switched to your Professional voice in a heartbeat.

“You wanted to talk to me Sister, uhm?”

“Mary, it’s Mary.” You chuckled to the name. Ironic.

“Walk with me, Sister Mary. How can I help you?” You felt so ridiculous, walking in your boyfriends clothes that was clearly too big for you. Wearing the rat slippers that Copia got for your birthday. Your hair wet from the long shower you took together, holding an empty coffee mug, with the sister caught you and your boyfriend dirty talking.

“I’m so sorry that I disturbed you in an un-appropriet time. In middle of the night. But I’m worried about my friend. They didn’t come to dinner and they didn’t come to the dens as well.”

“Your fri- oh the one from earlier. I’m sure they're okay, honey. No need to worry. Nothing bad is gonna happen to them. But I’m going to visit Ghouls now. I’m gonna check on them too, if it’s gonna ease your worry.” She released a long breath. Following you to the ghouls’ chambers.

“I would be so happy. Thank you Sister.” You took a left turn to the cold and black hallway. Her steps slowed down when she realized where she was.

“They’re not gonna eat you Sister. But you can wait here if you want.” She gave you a little nod while you knock on the door and enter the common room.

“Hi Sunny.” She raised her head from the book she was reading. Gave you a friendly smile when she realized it was you.

“Hi baby. Everything all right?” You smiled back to her.

“Yeah no worries. I came to borrow some coffee. Aether drank all of it.” You raised the mug you’re holding.

“It’s fresh. I just brewed it.”

“Oh marry me, baby. I love you.” You placed a soft kiss on her forehead before you walked to get your coffee.

“Don’t let Aether hear. But I will.”

Ghouls’ common room was a round room. One side of it was floor lenght windows with black drapes around them. There was a library for ghouls. On one side there was a coffee counter and a snack bar, next to the tv and gaming console, and then the doors opening to ghouls’ rooms. Dewdrop’s door opened when he heard your voice. With the first step he took out, he started laughing his ass off.

“What?” You turned your face to him when he fell on the ground.

"What?" You repeated yourself in worry.

"You, you look ridiculous. What are those?" He said trying to calm himself. "You look like babies who wears their clothes." You scrunched your face as he got up from the floor and sit on Sunshine's lap.

"Haha" you released a fake laugh as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"Or- or like you washed your clothes accidentally too cold." You were genuinely confused this time, Sunny's eyes find yours as she shared the same feelings with you.

"Dew, what?"

"Like when you wash them too hot they shrink, when it's too cold they get big."

His stupidity didn't even made you laugh. You were worried about him. You didn't even knew if he was able to walk across the road without help at this point.

"Yeah, Dewy. That's right. They do." You petted his shoulder while you walked to the door.

"Hey, Dewy, where is that newbie now?"

"They're cleaning my room. And then they're gonna clean and polish my guitar next."

You gave him a little nod as you walked out. Dewdrop made that poor newbie do his chores and Lucifer knows what else. Sister Mary raised her head as you took steps to her side.

"They're okay. Little busy. But okay. Go to your bed now Sister." She thanked you in a small manner as she found the stairs to the dens.

"And Sister Mary" you catched her attention from behind. "This whole night stays between us. Good night."

You slammed the door behind you to catch Aether’s attention.

“Satanas, I wanna go to sleep.” You murmured. Dropping your body to the office chair.

“Mia cara, let’s sleep.” He hugged you from behind. Placing a sloppy kiss on his arm you talked.

“I can’t. I have things to do. Band’s ritual lists, bills, I can’t baby.” He spin you to face him.

“Let me help you relax.” He kissed your lips slowly. As his hand walked through your body.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just sit there prettily and let me do all the work.”

He held you by the waist and raised you to his height. Your legs wrapping around his waist.

“You look s’good with my clothes, my smell wrapping you. You gonna be my death baby. Your pretty little body is gonna kill me.” His hands run inside your sweatpants and squeezed your ass. Kneeding your flesh harshly as his sharpened claws scratched your skin. Small red fluids beaded over the scratch.

The sweats you’re wearing slid through your legs taking your lace panties with them. He lowered his underwear as he sit to the chair. His thick cock hitting your already wet core. Flipping you over so you’re facing your desk filled with folders.

A moan escaped your lips as his precum covered tip brushed over your sensitive nub.

“Aeth,”

“Just focus on your job baby. I got you.” He left small kisses on your exposed neck. His tip sliding between your folds as he started pushing his lenght inside your wet hole.

“Takin’ me so well baby. Like you’re made for me. Just like that." Words left his lips between his lewd moans. Without the proper preparation his thickness burned your hole as he kept pushing himself between your walls. That slight burn in your core made you even wetter for him. His hand found one of your nipple and started toying sensitive skin between his fingers.

"You're surprising calm today, baby." You finally found your words as he was deep inside you, his tip pushing your cervix.

"I go harsh on you 'cause I know you enjoy it as much as I do, but now you need me to be a good boy. So I'll be a good boy. I'm just gonna sit here, burried deep inside you and let you do what you do."

His hand left your nipple alone as he grabbed his phone from your desk. His tail wrapping around your leg, his cock twitching inside you as your walls clench around him occasionally.

Maybe hours passed as you sit on his cock, maybe minutes. You couldn't tell. His thick shaft inside you was driving you crazy. The full feeling, his throbes inside your walls, his tip hitting different spots when he laughs something he saw on his phone. You just couldn't take it anymore. Pen dropped from your hand.

You circled your hips for more friction. Shock got him as you moved up and down on his cock.

"B-baby?"

"I swear to Lucifer, if you don't bend me over to that fucking table and fuck the living shit out of me I'm gonna go crazy. I-I can't take it anymore."

"As you wish Mia cara." He grabbed your waist as he kicked the chair under him and stand up. Slammin your chest to the desk. His strong fingers found its way to your hair, grabbing it harshly. Sending shivers down your body. His chest pressed against your back. Lips touching that thin skin under your ear, he whispered.

"Quidquid domina mea vult a me."

He straightens his back, parts your leg with his foot, gray sweatpants still bundled up on your ankles. His hips slamming against yours when he starts giving what you wanted. Your hair in his hand was sending electric waves down on your body.

"Is this what you wanted, babygirl?" His chest, now back to your back. His lewd groans filling your ears as much as your own loud moans.

"Is your ghoul's dick making you feel that good?" His long finger wrapped around your throat as he kept talking dirty to your ear.

With the pressure on your throat and your hair your eyes started to water. Pleasure washing over your body with the burn in your lungs.

"OH, baby. You get so cock-dumb on my cock every time I fuck you, I forgot how smart my little dove is. You can't even say my name. Look at you."

His hand leaves your throat and finds its way to your clit. Starts rubbing loosely on the sensitive bud. Your mind goes blank as his hand's pace matches his hips. Your climax grows in you with everything he does. A throbe of his cock, a circle that his hands makes feels too much.

"Aether, I can't. T-to much." Your abdomen starts to feel so tight, it hurts. Your walls clenching around his cock as his thrust gets slow but deeper.

"I know you can, babygirl. Cum for this poor ghoul. I need it. I need you to cum on my cock."

His words does it for you. Whole world goes black for a good minute as your orgasm hits you hard. Your mind emptier than before. He doesn't slow down, his thrusts keep going in a search for his own relief. Your legs shake as your whole body feels overwhelmed. Not after three thrusts he shoots thick ropes of white liquid all over your insides. Fills you up with the warmth.

His chest falls over your back once again, he doesn't pull out yet. Breathing heavily and crushing you with his weight.

"Attagirl. I knew you could do it. You always make me feel good after all." He peppered kisses all over your face and neck.

"Let's go to bed."

He grabs your waist and walks to your bedroom with long steps.

"Aether," you say as he puts you on your bed and reaches for a washcloth to clean you up.

"Mark me. Make me yours."

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lovelybrooke · 2 months

Note

Platonic yandere good omens with a darling who loves to read and is teased for it by others, maybe she’s a customer at the bookshop

I've changed this a little bit so I hope you still like it. Based on these headcanons. You don't have to read the to understand this though. Also I think that I overestimated how big the bookshop is, but just use your imagination, it'll be okay.

tw: Bullying (nothing too serious but just making sure)

Masterlist

---

Working at Mr. Fell's bookshop was great.

Granted, the store was very slow, no one barely ever showed up, and when they did you were strictly prohibited from selling books. So, you spent most of your time cleaning up and organizing books, which meant that most days were pretty relaxing.

Except for today.

"Hey kid, you're late." You barely spare a glance at Crowley, who's leaning lazily on one of the many comfy chairs in the shop. Huffing, you rush over to Mr. Fell's desk, placing your bag down next to it.

"You're not my boss, Mr. Crowley." You remind him with a blank tone. It doesn't seem to bother him, not like you can tell, with his glasses basically glued to his face and everything. Even so, you can feel his eyes on you, following you as you walk through the store. "Where is he anyway?" You ask, not seeing your boss anywhere. Crowley shifts in his seat just a bit, perhaps looking around for said man, but you couldn't tell as you hurry to put your school supplies away, Mr. Fell nice enough to let you put your bag near his personal desk so that others wouldn't mess with it.

"I'm not sure--not here either way." Crowley responds when enter back into the front of the shop. You sigh, it's weird for one of them not to know where the other was, but it's fine, everything will be okay.

Working the shop while Mr. Fell wasn't around always made you nervous. He wasn't very strict about most things, but when it came to his books he was always very straight forward on not finalizing any purchases without his permission. It's hard to explain that to potential customers, and with school being--a lot lately, it's been difficult to pay attention and stay on track.

The chime of the bell above the door broke you out of your worries. You were really hoping Mr. Crowley had left, but instead he was still reclining on his chair, eyes focused on one of the many books in this establishment. Instead, it was a group of three students, giggling as they walked into the store. This was your worst nightmare, the giggling, the whispers, the clear teasing that they thought was the funniest thing in the world.

You scurry behind a bookshelf, hoping that they didn't see you, or hear you for that matter. You tried your best to be invisible, busing yourself with task after task as you try to avoid the group of bullies. "Oh my god, (Y/n)? I didn't know you worked here." But eventually, you were found out. The main girl, dressed with a coy smile, stares you down, she definitely knew you worked here.

"Yeah..." You mumble out, looking at her nervously. She snickers towards the two others behind her, before looking back at you.

"Why haven't you told us?" She laughs, calling you a teasing nickname in the process. "We could've gotten so many free books from here--y'know like a friend discount."

"I didn't know we were friends." You answered, backing away when her look turned cold. "And either way, I can't authorize purchases when my boss isn't here."

She crosses her arms, any look of false kindness gone. "Well come on--if he's not here then what's the harm of a few books going missing." She says it's no big deal. You laugh in disbelief at her arrogance.

"I'm not going to give you free books just because we happen to know each other." You stand your ground, moving to put the book back on the shelf. Right when you were about to, however, she reaches over, grabbing the book right out of your hand, yanking it away from you.

"Why are you being so annoying?!" She scoffs. "It's just a stupid book, ugh--this is why nobody likes you--you take everything so seriously!" Her and her friend laugh at your dumb founded face, giggling as you rub your arm lightly.

Your brow furrows in frustration as you try to move to grab the book, groaning as she passes it to one of the others behind her. "Look--give it back--If you want it so bad just wait 'till my boss is back!" You whisper yell. You didn't want Mr. Crowley to hear you, hoping you were far enough into the back of the store to be out of earshot.

The book finally lands back into the main girl's hands, tightly gripping it so there was no possibility that you could get it from her. "If you want it so bad--" She mocks your previous voice of distress "--then take it!" She pushes the book into your chest roughly, causing you to gasp and fall down. The three laugh loudly as tears burn in your eyes, but at least you got the book back, that's all that matters. You waited to get up until you were sure they were away from you, sighing as you wiped your face and placed the book back on the shelf.

You were embarrassed, you didn't want to go back to the front and face Mr. Crowley, not having the capability to deal with his teasing right now. Leaning back on the bookshelf, you sigh once again, closing your eyes as you attempt to steady your breathing. It was quiet, but you could hear shuffling from the other side of the store. They must still be here, and at this point, you wanted them to leave, before Mr. Fell got back.

"--and don't come back!" You heard the voice of Mr. Crowley, accompanied by the slamming of a door. Eyes wide, you didn't know what to say when he turned back to look at you, huffing and puffing clearly annoyed.

He motions towards the sitting area, wanting for you to sit down. "Ugh--the audacity of some--some--teenagers!" He dramatically sits back down onto his seat across from you. "No offense by the way." He adds on.

"None taken..." You respond, slightly confused. "...what did you do?"

"Told 'em off is what I did!" He groans, snarling slightly "can't just come in here and start demanding things!" He mumbled out a bit more, a "rude" and "annoying" quietly leaving his lips.

"Please don't tell Mr. Fell about this." You interrupt his grumbling, causing him to raise a brow. You didn't to lose your job, Mr. Fell was great, but you didn't know what would happen if he learned about today. You looked down at your hands, nervous, "I--"

"Don't tell Mr. Fell what?" You jumped at the sound of a new voice, looking up to see the infamous face of your boss, and your heart dropped. "Does this have anything to do with the students that just rushed out of here?"

"No!" You shoot up, awkward. "--I'm going to get back to get back to work." You rush away from the two men, back towards the back of the store.

---

"(Y/n)" It was Mr. Fell, his voice soft as always. "Crowley told me what happened. I'm so sorry I wasn’t here."

You shake your head, trying to push your emotions down. "It's fine. It's not that big of a deal anyway." You say, rambling. "I'm sorry if any of the books were damaged, I'll pay for it if it was, but I'm pretty sure it was--"

"(Y/N)" He interrupts. "It's fine, please don't worry." He smiles, making you a little less nervous.

"I'll try." A small smile decorates your face. "So...I'm not going to lose my job."

He gasps. "Oh--of course not, sweetheart." He reassures you, lifting a weight from your shoulders. You felt like you could finally breathe again.

"Thank you."

He pats you on the back, "There's no need for that--but if that ever happens again please don't hide it from me."

You nod, getting through the rest of your work day without any problem.

---

It was a slow day at school. You honestly forgot most of what happened back at work, but that was probably because you tried your best to forget it.

"(Y/n)--" You look up from the paper on your desk, coming face to face with said girl you tried so hard to forget. But this time, there was no coy smile, no posey behind her, no giggling. Instead, she was shaking, not being able to lock eyes with you. It was a stark contrast to the girl you saw yesterday.

"Um--I'm sorry..." She mumbled, barely loud enough to hear "...for what happened, yesterday." She stuttered, clearly afraid of something, but you didn't have enough time to respond as she rushed away.

That was strange, but you chose not to focus on it, shrugging your shoulders.

At least she won't be bothering you again.

---

A/N: I had to get this out of my drafts, sorry if this sucks.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere good omens #yandere good omens #good omens x reader #platonic good omens #good omens

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chaotic-mystery · 7 months

Text

Traitor | J.M.

Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x reader!

Summary: This was a request I had received by @livingdeadmaria awhile ago and I finally got out of my funk to write! It’s based on the song Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo.

Word count: 1.3K || Warnings: angst. Angst and drinking and more angst. || notif blog for updates ||

You cleared your voice and took a deep breath, preparing for whatever was about to fall out of your mouth while the phone rang on the other end. Two rings and it went to voicemail but that didn’t surprise you. “Hey…I um… I know it’s late but I had to get some stuff off my chest. You always said I could call..if I needed you.” You sat in silence for a few seconds before you fiddled with your finger against your leg, questioning if you should even say anything. “D-do you remember how you used to read me sections of your book so I’d fall asleep faster because you said something about how sleep is important and I need it for my brain to stay sharp? Not sleeping so great these days to be honest with you..I remember you’d call me sweet pea and tell me to get comfy, it’s a long chapter. So I’d tuck myself next to you and you’d read for hours, even after I was asleep.” Your voice faded on the last bit of the sentence, your hand that was tucked into your coat pocket twirling a loose thread.

“I tried one of those audio books of some story to help me sleep but it didn’t work, she didn’t give the story enough of a monotone like you did. So then I tried music to help me fall asleep. I found out I love piano covers of songs. There’s one song though that could never be covered and that would be the one you showed me-” your voice cracked a little, the sting hitting your throat. “And I Love You So by Perry Como. That’s a good one to sleep to…has a lot of memories tied to it.”

The wind nipped at the tip of your nose and you sighed lightly, the puff of air disappearing in front of you. He showed you that song on the old radio he had tucked away in a shelf in his living room after you looked over his music collection he built over the years. He grabbed your hands and begged you to dance with him just until the song was over. As the short memory faded back into your mind and you were in the present, you stood up from the bench and finally walked inside your home. Taking off your coat and boots while your phone still squished against your cheek, you sniffled slightly.

“I heard that song today for the first time in a few weeks and it made me think of you. Took it as a sign to reach out. But then…I uh-” Hesitation overcame your voice before you continued.

“I saw you downtown earlier. Finally went to that winter festival thing they put on every year, the one I used to beg you to go with me to. Man, that was like pulling teeth with you, Joel.” It was. He said the lights and all the cheerful faces and overpriced hot chocolate wasn’t his thing. Of course you wanted to go anyway and you did go, alone.

“I was going to come up and tell you hi, see how you were…but then I noticed you with someone. Funny enough she looked like the one person you said you’d never date.” Your breath hitched and you made your way to the fridge to grab that bottle of wine you bought earlier to pour yourself a glass. You chugged down the first one and poured a second one before continuing the one sided conversation. The anger started to build up inside of you once more, completely taking over the good memories you had with him.

“I begged for you to tell me you had feelings for her, Joel. You always swore to me you didn’t, that I was paranoid for caring so much. Were you lying to me all those times I asked you anything about her? You didn’t even want to hold my hand in front of her towards the end of our relationship…why is that? I never said a word about what I actually thought was going on, just so you’d stay. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I played stupid you'd be happy with that and still stick with me. I loved you through everything, including your worst. Remember when you were terrified of me seeing you at your worst and you thought I’d leave? Never once did I do that, Joel. I stayed through all the bullshit you put me through, tried to help you be the best version of yourself that you could be. I showed you what love was again. You were the one who told me you couldn’t fall for someone after Sarah’s mom left and yet I stuck around. For you and for Sarah. You left me during my worst. Was I that shitty of a person to you that you didn't care about my feelings at all and thought the best thing to do would be to leave in the middle of the night after a fight?"

“Baby cmon I told you nothin’ is going on. She’s just a friend from years ago, I never had those feelings for her.” Joel followed you into your bedroom as you started to pack your stuff in a duffle bag, cleaning out the drawer he gave you in his dresser. “Baby, stop…just listen to me.” His hands grabbed your wrists and shook the clothes from your clutch, pulling you into his chest. Warm tears fell against his shirt and you broke down finally. All the pent up anger and sadness you had spilled onto the fabric against your cheek while Joel’s hand smoothed over your hair. “You’re my girl, okay? What can I do to make you trust me that she’s just a friend?” “Tell me you’ll never date her if we ever break up. I need to hear you say it.” The idea flopped out of your mouth before thinking it over but it was already out and in his ears. Joel just nodded and gave you a soft smile. “You have my word, I won’t date her if we break up. Which we won’t.” He kissed the top of your head and hugged you once more, his words still feeling a little empty.

That was a month before he broke up with you.

You downed the rest of the glass of wine and sighed, wiping the tears away from your cheeks. “I wish you would’ve thought this through before letting me fall in love with you, Joel. I really do. You betrayed me. You told me-” You choked out a sob and swallowed hard, “you told me you wouldn’t date her and you lied to me. How could you do this to me? Joel..we were together for two years and you left me when the going got tough…you ran right to her. Did anything we did matter to you?” With the tears clouding your vision, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “I hope you feel good about yourself, I really do. While she’s sleeping in the bed we made, I hope you replay this voicemail in your head and remember everything I said. I wish you’d call me after this to try to apologize for hurting me even more but I know you won’t. You’ll never be sorry for hurting me this bad and I think that’s what kills me so much. I know how kind you can be but it seems I’m not lucky enough to get that anymore. Thank you so much for making this heartbreak so much easier to get over. Just know that I always loved you and I would’ve never hurt you like this, you fucking traitor.” — Joel’s POV

He sighed and looked at the phone screen, the voicemail ending and the screen dimming out. His girlfriend woke up behind him in bed, rolled over and hooked her arm into his, “What’re you doing baby?” She asked tiredly but didn’t sit up to see his phone. Joel coughed and took a deep sigh before deleting the voicemail from his phone.

“Nothin’ sweet pea. Go back to sleep.”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller pedro pascal #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller angst #traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

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muffinsin · 4 months

Note

Thank you so much for all these great posts. They've been really helping me while my dog is really sick.

I don't know if you've written something like this already, but maybe you could write one where the sisters fall in love with one of the maids from afar but they're afraid to talk to her because she might be scared of them?

Of course! I’m glad you’re enjoying them & I hope your dog will be better soon! :( (give us doggo updates?👀). I’ve mentioned them being worried in a couple of posts, though never fully elaborated I think

Let’s get into it! :)

Masterlists

Bela

She’s had her eye on you for a while already now

Never has she dared approach you

Much less talk to you!

Bela’s a nervous wreck when you do as much as look at her

Having discovered you originally after you cleaned her office, she immediately felt intrigued

Bela is, some might say, a difficult person

When maidens clean her room or office, it’s even more dangerous than with her sisters. This is her private area

And she has a very, very specific order and pattern of placing her things. Pencils must be right where she left them, papers even more so

Often the staff mistakes these things. Pencils she left out, shoes she left out, papers meant to be easily taken are moved back to the stash of papers on her desk

Has she hates it! She feels, she must reorganise her entire room after it’s been cleaned

You don’t make these mistakes, though

You clean, and only clean. You respect her enough to view what seems like clutter to others as precision

Pencils are right where they’re left. Clothing is re-folded, and put right where she left them

This is bound to catch her attention. You stand out

Yet, Bela starts to fall in love long after she’s made you her private maiden, the one appointed to only her and all her needs

For when you clean her bookshelf and put finished books- neatly piled so you won’t move those she wants untouched- back in the shelf. Perfectly organised, of course

It’s as if you understand her

And yet, she’s too scared to face you

Bela feels flustered when she once finds a note next to her pile of unfinished books

Recommendations…

She didn’t think any maid really took to reading. Even knew how to. And much less did she assume anybody would share her taste

But, upon following your recommendations, she finds they’re very good!

She leaves them out subtly, to show you she’s read through each and every one of them

To ask you, without having to face you, for more

And you keep making recommendations

Bela catches herself falling for you, and tests you

Sometimes she leaves slips of papers containing quotes

She falls back on her bed with a large grin when you pass her tests, writing the books they’re from, or promising you will read them

Your handwriting is neat too, she notices

Yet, Bela wonders and adores from afar

She watches you work, and eagerly takes in all you do. She gazes, stares maybe even, but never engages

What if you too, will see her as a monster?

Cassandra

Cassandra is intrigued by you the moment you’re sent to the castle for work

The blacksmith. You’re to make her weapons

She’s thrilled! She goes to visit you immediately, having a full list of what she’d like

But-

She’s almost shrieking at you when she comes inside and almost swarms face first into your muscular back

It’s rare she sees someone with muscles at the castle! Though she knows your work technically demand some

She’s by far more flustered than she’d like to admit, and when you begin turning around, she’s quick to swarm away, leaving only flies and the list falling to the floor

Behind a wall and out of sight, she face palms herself

So much for being menacing…

She admires as you work, even if she never allows you to see her

That’s right, the sadistic little middle child of Alcina Dimitrescu is smitten, laying on one of the wooden foundations of the wall, far above you as she watches you work the furnace

Large muscles glistening with sweat…

Cassandra basks in it all, and the warmth of the furnace

She watches wide eyed as you craft her a sickle and dagger, eyes wide when you add a little bit of something to it

No previous blacksmith has ever dared swat from her exact orders

But- it’s beautiful

A pattern at the grip, a beautiful one resembling her swarm

She nearly falls from her lounging position as she tries to get a closer look, and the thought of falling, halfway swarming and landing in your arms is enough to fluster her already

She scolds herself for being this way. Daniela would act like this, not her!

But, she just can’t help it around you. She feels by far too careless and by far sweeter than she is

Then, you start gifting her things

She finds random, little things of metal crafted to her- things she has not commissions

Things that make her stony heart melt

You craft her beautiful daggers with a gemstone as gold as her choker’s gemstone at the bottom

And, something particular that makes her breath hitch

A silver platter, with silver, bronze and copper hearts, beautifully crafted just for her

Not the cliché, sweet hearts. Realistic ones. With a dark metal serving as blood at the top

She swoons at the sight

And still, she can’t bring herself to talk to you for a second reason:

What if you’re scared of her?

While she feels like a flustered maiden merely watching you, this is a harsh contrast to her behaviour around everybody else

She knows her reputation

A monster

The sadistic one, it’s best to stay out of sight

The mistress of torture

She knows, these things are all right. And she’s proud of these titles, of the fear she strikes in all but her family

Yet, she can’t help but feel worried you also see her as such

What if the little gifts and addition you make her are nothing but a way, an attempt, to stay on her good side and alive?

What if you too are trying to save yourself from her clutches?

Daniela

Our sweet Daniela, delusional and naive, yet so fast to fall in love

Or what she calls love, at least

She’s been watching you, love evident in her eyes as she dreamily watches you from her window

You’re the gardener, watering the flowers she loves so much. Oh, she wishes she could go outside and pick some!

But the cold temperature suggests otherwise, and locks her inside the warmth of the castle

Oh, but she watches, head held up and resting against her palms, a dreamy expression on her face as she watches you tend to the plants and hedges growing in winter

White and purple flowers on the ground

You’re wrapped into many layers to keep warm, and she wishes she could merely copy you

Daniela watches every day, sighing dreamily and smiling lovingly as you tend to it all

Her cheeks warm when you look up, yet she knows she is too far up and in the distance for you to make her figure out at the window

What she doesn’t mind is, however, that you are very capable of seeing her when she does not glance at you from her room, high above the ground in the castle’s tower, but from the library

You feel the youngest Dimitrescu daughter stare at the back of your head when you work, and you can’t help but feel flustered

She’s very…adamant on watching you

She stares every day

Oh, and she admires every day

And sometimes, sweet Daniela gets so lost in her daydreams, she doesn’t even notice you look back at her and catch her staring

She blushes wild pink when she, one day, wakes up to flowers set outside her door

The white and light pink ones from the garden, with two purple ones in the bouquet!

She falls even more for you,

Each day she receives another flower, and each day she folds them into a beautiful flower crown

Daniela is sad when they die- she wishes she could just go outside

And her sadness is apparent when she plays with the dead flower petals between her petite hands, sitting once again at her seat at the window of the library

You understand the Lady’s sadness, and Daniela finds herself grinning again when instead of flowers, you bring her a slip of paper folded like a flower each day

You get her!

She yearns to feel your touch. A knight to her, the princess

Yet, she fears- what if she is not the princess, but the monster? And her knight?

What if you are not hers, but a knight sent to slay the beast that is her?

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #resident evil village #get well soon doggo

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underground-secret · 9 months

Text

The Hunter and The Witch: Dean Winchester x fem! reader

description: The boys and Y/N are still looking for John Winchester, now following after the coordinate clue he left.

warnings: cannon violence, blood, death, missing persons, usage and mention of guns, cursing (i think)

tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld

word count: 6,856

Wendigo

(Masterlist/ Next Chapter)

November 10, 2005

Sam jerks awake from the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean driving while a song from the Foreigner’s plays from the radio.

“You okay?” Dean asks voice clear with concern

Sam glances at him and then away, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Another nightmare?” Dean asks him, but Sam doesn't answer, only clearing his throat

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asks instead.

I look up from my book, with a questioning look.

Sam laughs practically reading my mind, “Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that.”

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” Dean brushes off.

“Awwww, Dean, you softie” I say smiling widely with a laugh.

He catches my eyes in the rear view mirror giving me a gruff “No”, but the glint in my eye doesn't go away nor does the smile on my face.

He can deny it all he wants but I know he’s a softie, it’s one of the many many things I love about him…that made me fall for him

Sam laughs, piggy backing off of my teasing, “Look, man, you're worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

“Mm-hm” Dean hums, and I have to agree with him here. There’s no way Sam’s okay, his girlfriend just died in front of him in the same way his mom was killed, I don’t think anyone would be okay after that.

Sam rolls his eyes, grabbing a map from the glove department, “All right, where are we?”

“We are just outside of Grand Junction.” Dean responds.

Sam folds the map, “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

“Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—“ Dean reasons getting cut off by Sam

“We gotta find Dad first.”

“Dad disappearing—and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence. Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.” Dean remarked.

“It's weird, man.These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.” Sam points out.

“Hm? What about it?” I ask

“There's nothing there. It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?” Sam answers.

“Lots of things could be and or happen in the woods.” I explain just as we drive past a National Forest sign reading "Welcome to LOST CREEK COLORADO National Forest".

The Impala is parked next to a sign that says "RANGER STATION Lost Creek Trail, Lost Creek National Forest". Meanwhile we’re inside, Dean looking at the decorations while I look at the trinkets around.

Sam’s being the helpful one here looking at a 3D map of the forest, “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.” He informs.

“Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.” Dean calls out looking at a framed photo of a man standing behind a much larger bear.

“And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It's no nature hike, that's for sure.” Sam adds on looking at the photo.

“This will certainly be interesting then” I murmur, picking up a little wooden bear from a shelf holding it up for the boys to see.

“You guys aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?” A Ranger says from behind the boys, both of them whipping around startled.

I put the little bear down quickly, locking my hands behind my back with a tight smile on my face.

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper.” Sam covers laughing a little.

Dean grins raising a fist, “Recycle, man.”

I have to bite on the inside of my cheek to not laugh, so as to not break our cover.

“Bull” the Ranger calls, and suddenly I don’t feel like laughing.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” he adds

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger…Wilkinson.” Dean goes along with it.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?” Ranger Wilkinson stated.

Dean shakes his head as the Ranger goes on,

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will. Well that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?” Dean replied.

“That is putting it mildly.”

“Actually you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.” Dean adds, clever guy.

We leave the station, Dean holding the paper he asked for laughing

“What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?” Sam asks him.

“Ew, please don’t answer that.” I groan, trying to ignore the pang that rings through my heart at the mere suggestion.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, looking between me and Sam.

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam explains, rounding the car to the passenger side.

“I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?” Dean reasons.

There’s a pause where no one says anything nor do we move to get into the car.

“What?” Sam asks

“Since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later, anyway?” Dean asks back in return.

“Since now.” He answers, opening the car door and entering.

“Really?” Dean looks from me to the car.

I took a step forward giving Dean’s upper arm a reassuring squeeze. It was meant to be helpful at best but squeezing his arm made me feel the hard muscle underneath his jacket and my head went blank for just one second, my hand lingering.

My face flushed as I gave him a quick smile, entering the car myself.

So much for being inconspicuous.

Dean didn’t move from outside the car for a moment longer, staring where I was standing previously, before throwing open the driver’s side door.

We stand outside the Collins house, the door opening by who I assume to be Haley Collins.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and that’s Y/N, we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.” Dean introduces.

Haley hesitates, “Lemme see some ID.”

Clever girl, I have to admit.

Dean pulls out a fake ID holding it up against the screen. Haley looks at it, then at Dean, who smiles.

She takes the lie, opening the door for us, “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” Dean says simply.

“That yours?” Haley asks Dean, referring to the Impala out front.

“Yeah” He answers.

“Nice car” Shs compliments.

Their brief conversation ends as she leads us into the kitchen, some younger guy sitting at the table on a laptop.

In the corner of my eye I see Dean mouthing something to Sam who rolls his eyes back, but I couldn’t tell what it was about

“So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?” Sam starts off.

Haley places a bowl on the table answering, “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception.” Sam offers but that theory gets shut down quickly by Haley as she responds, “He's got a satellite phone, too.”

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean reasons.

The boy on the laptop answered this time, “He wouldn't do that.”

“Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.” Haley explains.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asks her as she places food down on the table.

“Yeah.” She answers pulling the pictures up quickly,

“That's Tommy” she points.

She clicks two more times showing another picture and then a video, she presses play.

“Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

“We will find your brother.” I tell her with a reassuring smile as I continue, “We’ll be heading to Blackwater Ridge in the morning.”

“Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.” Haley claims voice and face full of determination.

“I think I know how you feel,” Dean pipes in.

“Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?” Sam asks, cutting into the slightly heartfelt moment.

“Sure.”

The bar where we sat was a little loud, the sound of pool ringing in the background.

Sam sits across from Dean and I, me sitting on the inside of the booth; a habit we’d picked up when we were younger.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.” Sam informs us opening John's journal

“Anything before that?” I ask him, leaning forward a bit more.

Sam pulls out newspaper articles sliding them between me and Dean.

“Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.” Sam speaks as we read the article titled

‘The Lost Creek Gazette.’

GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS!

UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA

HIKERS DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES'

Families continue search and rescue efforts in spite of disappointing [...]

“And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936.” Sam adds, his laptop now pulled out.

“I know bears can be dangerous and all but do people really believe a bear is responsible for eight plus, people’s disappearance. There’s no way a bear would be so pattern like.” I say baffled.

“Yeah well people believe what they want to when nothing else makes sense” Sam answers opening his laptop, continuing with his information

“Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out.” He turns his computer towards Dean and I, going through three frames at a time. A shadow crosses the screen.

I squint at the shadow as Dean says, “Do it again.”

He adds, “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

“It’s actually just the reverse flash” I joke

Sam breathes a short laugh, understanding my reference, as he closes his laptop.

Dean looks between the both of us, “Nerds.”

I laugh nudging Dean with my body, “Oh you know you love us” I tease.

“Yeah yeah” he answers playfully, shoving me lightly.

Dean then hits Sam causing him to look up,“Anyway I told you something weird was going on.”

“Yeah, but I got one more thing” Sam adds, bringing back the serious energy. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

“Is there a name?”

Mr.Shaw, the only survivor of these attacks, leads us inside his house with a cigarette in his mouth as he talks to us “Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—“

Sam interrupts, “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw takes a puff of his cigarette, takes it out, and nods.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean adds, a pause hits the room before he continues, “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

Another pause, he adds, “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

“I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” Mr.Shaw sits down, “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

“Mr. Shaw trust me when I say that we’ve seen things, crazy things, there’s nothing you could tell us that we wouldn’t believe” I speak honestly.

He doesn’t answer for a beat, grumbling underneath his breath before finally responding, “Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like...no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?” Sam asks.

He nods.

Sam asks another question, “Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” Mr.Shaw clarifies.

“It killed them?” Sam questions.

“Dragged them off into the night.” Mr.Shaw shakes his head adding, “Why it left me alive...been asking myself that ever since.”

Another pause rings through the room before he lifts a hand to his collar, “Did leave me this, though.”

He opens his collar revealing three long scars, claw marks.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

LATER

We walk the length of the motel corridor, discussing our new found information.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls.” Dean says.

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal.” Sam offers

“Corporeal? Excuse me, professor.” Dean mocks,

“Seriously, that's some big word use” I add on laughing.

“Shut up. So what do you think?” Sam ignores our teasing, well Deans teasing. I wasn't really joking, this time.

“The claws, the speed that it moves...could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.” Dean answers using Sam’s big word.

We exited the motel entering its parking lot, heading to the Impala.

Dean opens the truck and then the weapons box, propping it up with a shotgun, as he always does, before putting guns into a duffel bag.

“We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.” Sam reasons leaning in.

“Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?” Dean answers, and I have to agree.

“Yeah.” Sam replies.

“Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.” Dean lists out.

“I gotta agree with Dean, there’s no way we’d be able to convince Haley anyways so there’s no point in trying.” I pipe in.

Dean picks up the duffel, throwing me a smile. Most likely because I agreed with him this time.

“And finding Dad's not enough? No we gotta babysit too?” Sam argues slamming the weapons box shut, then the trunk.

Dean stares at Sam.

“What?” Sam asks.

“Nothing.” He answers, throwing the duffel bag at Sam turning to walk away.

Sam stares at me and I shrug not knowing what that was about with Dean either.

The next day

The Impala pulls up. Haley, Ben (her other brother), and some other guy in shorts stare at us as we get out of the car.

I handed Sam the duffle bag that was riding with me in the back seat. Securing my brown messenger bag across my chest, carrying some more witchy belongings that might be of aid including my spell book.

“You guys got room for three more? Dean calls out.

“Wait, you want to come with us?” Haley questions.

“Who are these guys?” Mystery man in shorts asks.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.” Haley comments, eyeing us up.

Sam heads past us all, clearly not wanting to be here any longer then we have to.

“You're rangers?” Shorts man asks.

“That's right.” Dean confirms.

And I can already tell that we’re going to be bumping heads with this shorts wearing guy.

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley picks out.

Dean looks down at himself causing me to look down at myself feeling a little conscious now that Haley pointed our outfits out. But hey I’m prepared for the cold wearing a long sleeve shirt, a black sweatshirt, my fleece corduroy jacket that I always wear, and…jeans (to me this seems very logical).

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.” Dean replies simply heading past Haley.

“Wait, I'm sorry, why would we wear shorts? It’s already cold out and as it gets darker that’s only going to worsen plus wearing shorts leaves you more vulnerable to whatever is out there.” I point behind,me towards the woods, adding, “And I’m just gonna assume here that you short wearing man are supposed to be this, uh, hunter? Haley mentioned yesterday.”

I hear Dean huff a laugh a couple steps in front of us.

Short wearing man didn’t take too kindly to my questioning, “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt. And it’s Roy.”

Sam turns back as Dean calls out behind him, “Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be. We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all.”

Dean passes Sam, and I begin walking after them.

The group hikes through the forest, Roy leading us followed by Dean, Haley, Ben, me, and then Sam holding up the rear.

“Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” Dean says, making conversation.

“Yeah, more than a little.” Roy answers, sounding quite proud.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?” Dean keeps the convo going.

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.”

Poor bears.

Dean passes Roy taking the lead, “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

I laugh maybe a little too hard, I bite my bottom lip remembering the serious circumstance in which we’re here.

Roy grabs Dean, “Whatcha doing, Roy?” he asks.

Roy grabs a stick poking something behind Dean.

A loud snap rings through the quiet forest, a bear trap, Dean was one step away from walking into a bear trap.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.” Roy drops the stick, retaking the lead.

Roy drops the stick and retakes the lead as we continue hiking.

“It’s a bear trap.” Dean points out.

I catch up to him, giving him a hit on the arm looking at him with a face full of worry. Has he been in more dangerous situations than a bear trap? Yes. But I can’t help but worry, even over the stupid things.

His face softens and he gives me a smile.

Haley caught up to us immediately calling out, “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.”

She grabs Dean's arm, “So who the hell are you?”

Ben passes us by, Sam and I look at Dean. He gives us a look that tells us to go, that he has it covered and we do.

LATER

Roy’s leading the way still, this time the following order is Sam, Ben, me, Haley and Dean.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge.” Roy announces

Sam passed him as he asked, “What coordinates are we at?”

Roy pulls out a GPS, answering, “Thirty-five and minus one-eleven.”

Dean goes up to Sam, catching my wrist as he goes by pulling me after him.

“You hear that?” Dean asks. We listen. Its dead quiet.

“Yeah. Not even crickets.” Sam confirms.

“I'm gonna go take a look around.” Roy announces

“You really shouldn’t go off by yourself” I warn.

“That’s sweet. Don’t worry about me” He waves his gun pushing past us to retake the lead.

Stubborn shorts man.

Dean turns back to Ben and Haley as they catch up, “All right, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

Sam, Dean, Ben, Haley and I are looking around near a particularly large rock before we hear Roy yelling for Haley.

She runs over to his voice, the rest of us following closely.

“Oh my God.” The tents are torn open and bloody, all the supplies being scattered.

“Looks like a grizzly.” Roy announces.

We all sort of break off, not far from each other, looking around for any clues or anything of the sort.

Haley begins yelling for Tommy, practically throwing her backpack down as she goes through the campsite. Sam moves to catch up to her, I don’t hear the conversation as I focus on the tracks I found. But whatever he said got her to stop yelling

I crouch to see the tracks better, getting Dean's attention as he crouches next to me before calling out for Sam. He comes over, joining our crouching party.

“The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here” I point, “the tracks just vanish.”

“I’ll tell you what, that’s no skinwalker or black dog” Dean adds standing up, heading back to the campsite, Sam and I following.

Haley’s picked up a cell phone that I assume is Tommy’s from the blood on it. She’s hunched over on the ground crying.

Dean crouches next to her, “Hey, he could still be alive.” he says reassuringly.

“Help! Help” a sudden voice yells out. Almost in sync, our heads snap towards the direction of the voice.

Roy leads the way everyone running after him

“Help! Somebody!” the voice yells out again.

But when we reached where it was coming from there was no one around.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn’t it?” Haley asks and I nod.

“Everybody back to camp” Sam orders, we obey as we run back.

All of the supplies are missing, and suddenly I'm grateful for carrying my bag with me even if it only slightly got in the way of my running.

“Our packs!” Haley yells, pointing out the obvious.

“So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.” Roy mutters.

“What the hell is going on?” Haley commands.

“It's smart. It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help.” Sam informs.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” Roy corrects.

Sam goes over to Dean and I as Roy goes on this ‘nutjob’ theory, “I need to speak with you, both. In private.”

We follow him a little bit away from the group, “Let me see Dad's journal.”

Dean hands it over, Sam opens it and flips through until he finds a particular page.

“All right, check that out.” Sam turns the book so we can see it better pointing to a First Nations–style drawing of a figure, more specifically a Wendigo.

“Oh come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west.” Dean rationalizes.

“It does make sense though. I mean the claws and especially the way it can mimic a human voice” I explained. Getting eager head nods from Sam, “Exactly” he adds.

“Great. Then this is useless” Dean sighs,taking out his pistol. Being the only way to kill a Wendigo is silver through the heart or fire.

Sam gives back the journal heading past us back to camp before stopping, “We gotta get these people to safety.”

Back at the campsite, Sam addresses the group, “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

“What? Haley asks.

“Kid, don't worry. Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.” Roy buds in and all I can think about is how stubborn this man is.

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now.” Sam ordered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy lists out.

“Relax” Dean cuts in.

“We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.” Sam says.

Roy steps up to Sam getting in his face, “You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.”

It’s then I decide I'm not going to get in the middle of this argument, seeing as this will definitely turn into a ‘who’s more macho’ sort of deal.

“Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.” Sam challenges.

Roy laughs, “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—“ Dean cuts Sam off, pushing him.

“Chill out.” Dean orders.

“Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.” Haley informs, and as much as it’s a stupid stubborn choice it is her brother.

There's a long pause before Dean speaks up, “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?”

It’s pitch dark out now, our only source of light being the campfire that was built.

Deans drawing a Anasazi symbol, for protection, around the campsite as the rest of us are kind of just sitting around the fire.

“One more time, that’s—“ Haley asks poking at the fire

“An anasazi symbol, it’s for our protection. The wendigo can’t cross over them” I explain for at least the fifth time.

Roy laughs, holding a gun over his shoulder.

I give him a sharp gaze as Dean says, “Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy.”

Dean finishes the symbol sitting next to Sam and I, Sam being in the middle.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asks him

“Dean—“

But Dean cuts him off, “No, you're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

Feeling as this is going to turn personal quickly, more of a family/brotherly moment that wouldn’t include me, I get up giving them a nod and a look that lets them know I'm giving them privacy. I move to sit near Haley, instead.

A few minutes have gone before suddenly someone screams and it isn’t anyone in our group, “Help me! Please!”

It’s almost most definitely the wendigo.

I see Dean stand, readying his gun as another “Help!” rings through the normally quiet woods.

Sam pulled out a flashlight, throwing one to me before flashing it around in an attempt to see if the wendigo is close by, I follow suit doing the same.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put.” Dean commands.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy mocks.

“Jesus Christ Roy, yes!” I exclaimed, Roy getting on my nerves.

“Help! Help me” The wendigo yells, mimicking a human voice, growling following.

Roy points his gun at the sound, “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

Haley turns, talking to her younger brother, “It's okay. You'll be alright, I promise.”

Something rushes past, Haley shrieks.

“It’s here.” Sam announces.

Roy shoots the rustling, twice.

“I hit it” he yells running off to see what exactly he hit.

“Roy! No!” I yell after him

Dean turns to Haley and Ben, commanding them, “Don’t move.”

Haley grabs a stick lighting it on fire as a weapon. Dean gives me and Sam a nod, queuing us to run after Roy.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” Roy announces.

Sam and I use our flashlights, looking to see where Roy went. But we wind up with nothing.

It’s day now, hours since Roy went missing.

Now we sit trying to explain the whole supernatural stuff we encounter.

Sam’s sitting against a tree stump holding his dads journal whilst me, Dean, Haley, and Ben are among the tents

“I don't...I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real.” Haley states.

“I wish I could tell you different.” Dean replies, half shrugging.

“You can say that again” I mumble.

“How do we know it's not out there watching us?” Haley asks

“We don't. But we're safe for now.” Dean answers.

“How do you know about this stuff?” She asks

There’s a pause where you can see the gears turning in Dean's head as he considers an answer, “Kind of runs in the family.”

“Literally” I mermer underneath my breath, we hadn’t told them I was a Witch, which was probably for the better considering we’re being hunted by a Wendigo and they had just learned that the things in the dark are real.

Sam comes over, “Hey. So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

Haley stands nodding

“Well, hell, you know I'm in.” Dean answers, “Same here” I add.

Sam opens the journal to the wendigo page, turning the book around for Haley and Ben to see.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours'.” Sam informs.

“They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.” Dean adds to the information.

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asks.

“Well, it's always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.” Dean answers.

“Like the Donner Party.” Ben offers.

“Nice reference” I compliment before joining in on the info train, “And, uh, cultures all over the world actually believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities like speed, strength, immortality…” I trail off

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry.” Dean adds on.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley points out.

“You're not gonna like it.” Dean answers simply, glancing from Sam to me then back to Haley.

“Tell me.” She orders.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.” Dean finishes.

“And then how do we stop it?” Haley asks

“Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically we gotta torch the sucker.” He holds up a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and a white cloth aka the makings of a molotov cocktail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean leads the group, molotov cocktail in hand, as we follow the trail of claw marks on trees and blood.

It’s a while later when Sam starts leading the group.

“Dean. Y/N”

We catch up quickly, “mhm?” I hum in question

“You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow.” Sam talks, pointing out the bloody broken tree branches.

“Ah fric-“ My commentary gets cut off by growling, we whip around the trees rustling.

Haley’s standing under a tree looking up, blood dripping on her. When suddenly she leaps out of the way a corpse falling to the ground with a thud.

Roy’s corpse.

“His neck's broken.” Dean announces, examining the body as Sam helps Haley up.

More growling surrounds us.

“Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!” Dean yells and without a second thought we take off. The sounds of our boots hitting the soft dirt.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam retreating backwards, I stop running, turning to see if he’s okay.

Bens on the ground, getting hauled up by Sam. I head closer towards them in case the wendigo decides to show up knowing I can at the very least hold it off.

“Come on, I gotcha, I gotcha.” Sam reassures Ben, as we start running again.

A scream, noticeably Haley’s racks the forest.

“Haley” Ben asks skidding to a stop.

Sam and I stop running, noticing that Dean and Haley are nowhere to be seen.

Sam bends down picking up Deans molotov cocktail, the bottles broken.

“Dean!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?” Ben asks, walking in front of us.

“Roys shooting probably pissed it off” I answer wrapping my arms around myself, hoping the worry in my voice isn’t apparent.

Ben leans down picking something up, turning towards us holding up a peanut m&m. He moves over revealing a trail of them, “They went this way.”

I smile, Ben hands over the m&m to Sam who laughs.

“It's better than breadcrumbs.”

He tosses the piece of chocolate away.

We follow the trial carefully, coming up to a mine entrance marked with a sign that reads

‘WARNING! DANGER! DO NOT ENTER EXTREMELY TOXIC MATERIAL.’

We all look at each other shrugging before entering.

Sam leads the way, flashlight shining ahead.

There’s a sudden growl, he quickly turns the light off pulling Ben and me against the wall.

A tall white figure with long fingers stalks towards us, Sam having to cover Ben's mouth before he screams.

The Wendigo takes a different tunnel, only just missing us.

We keep going, the floors creaking below our feet.

A particular step made the floor creak a little too much, but before I can even take another step forward the floor collapses underneath us.

I groan quietly at the hard landing, trying to contain my coughing from the dust and destroyed wood. I looked down, noticing that the hard landing was a pile of bones.

I get up swiftly feeling grossed out, Ben must have just noticed the bones as he leaps backwards. Sam helps him up as he reassuringly says, “Hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay.”

We look up, finding Dean and Haley hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. My eyes widen and I feel my heart physically drop. I’ve been hunting before, even with Dean a couple of times. But I've never seen him hurt, not like this, not during a hunt, not being tied up.

Sam runs to Dean, Ben to Haley.

“Y/N! Cover us?” Sam orders and I move, breaking out of my freezing. I have my back towards the others, my hands lit up with pure white energy, ready for the wendigo. I knew it wouldn’t kill it, but at least I could keep it back.

“Haley, wake up!” Ben yells and I’m tempted to turn around but I know I shouldn’t.

“Dean!” Sam yells.

“Hey, you okay?” I hear Sam ask from behind me.

I hear Dean suck in a breath behind me, “Yeah.” He grumbles.

“Haley, Haley, wake up, wake up!” Ben yells again.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam cut down Dean and then Haley, moving them to an empty patch of floor. As they move I follow, still covering them.

Dean makes a pained noise. I clench my fists, the white energy still surging around them.

“Dean, you okay?” I ask, still not turning around.

He groans in pain, “Yeah. Yep. Where is he?”

“He’s gone for now” I answer simply.

Haley runs past me to a figure hanging in the corner, she starts crying, it’s then that I know it’s Tommy.

She touches his face gently, his head jerks up and she jumps back with a shriek. She turns towards me, eyeing me and the boys behind me, I don’t make eye contact.

Not because I don’t want to help but because I don’t want her to see my eyes, knowing my irises would be purple. Stupid thing to worry about when literal energy was coming from my hands, she’d see that before my eyes. But, still, I was scared for the moment she asks what the hell was going on with me. When her or her brothers do. It’s a rooted fear that no matter how much time goes by I can’t seem to shake.

Sam heads over and cuts Tommy free.

“We’re gonna get you home” She tells him.

A hand touches my shoulder and I tense, flinching slightly, even though it felt familiar.

“Relax” Dean whispers near my ear sending a shiver down my spine.

“You don’t have to be so stiff trying to protect us, cause look what I found” He holds up two flare guns pointing to a pile in the corner full of stolen supplies.

“Flare guns. Those’ll work” Sam says grinning.

Dean laughs and twirls the guns in his hands, and I can’t help the smile that makes its way onto my face.

We head down the tunnel Dean and Sam in the lead with their flare guns as I keep to the rear of the group.

“Looks like someone's home for supper.” Dean comments at the growling we heard.

“We’ll never outrun it” Haley points out.

Dean looks back at us, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam answers and I nod.

“All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and Y/N. They’re gonna get you out of here.” Dean plans.

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asks Dean.

He winks, walking and yelling, “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

Sam waits until Dean is a safe distance away, “All right, come on! Hurry!”

The Collinses follow him down the tunnel, as I continue to hold down the rear.

We hurry down the tunnel before we hear more growling.

Sam points the gun in the direction, then lowers it turning to the Collinses.

“Get him outta here” He orders

“Sam, no”

“Go! Y/N get them outta here, Go!” he orders

I turned to the family making sure I no longer was using my powers as I pushed them out of there.

A moment later I hear Sam running after us, catching up, “Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry” he says, and I let him get in front of me as we reach the end of the tunnel.

I half turn to see the wendigo right behind us. I pivot the rest of the way around, quickly letting my hands light back up with energy during the half second that I moved.

I move my hands in front of me throwing a large energy blast right at the tall white creature, sending it a few feet back knocking it into a tree (the one that got in the way of it getting thrown further).

“Get behind me.” Sam tells the Collinses, hiding them behind himself as I stay in front of him.

The Wendigo approaches again and I throw it back again, a little harder this time.

I keep my hand in front of me, still lit with white energy as I bring my other hand down, flicking it swiftly, conjuring a flare gun into my hand.

I let the wendigo stalk a little closer before I raise my hand with the gun, I aim, pulling the trigger.

Just as Dean comes up a foot behind the wendigo, pulling his trigger.

The flare I shot goes off first, Deans following a second later. The wendigo goes up in flames.

“Teamwork” Dean says grinning at me.

I huff a laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An ambulance loads up Tommy, two police officers interview Ben as Sam stands behind him.

“So…what was that whole thing back there with you” Haley asks me hands in her pockets, her and Dean both already patched up.

“I, oh, um…I’m a witch” I answer, feeling as if I'm shrinking inside myself. Telling people has never been a part I enjoy much.

“You're in the journal?” She asks

“I mean not me specifically but witches, yes. Most witches aren’t good, quite the opposite really…” I tail off looking down, feeling uncomfortable.

“Thank you.” She says leaning her head down to catch my eyes before adding, “I don’t know how to thank you guys.”

I just smile at her, glad to have helped but also glad to have moved away from the awkward conversation.

But when I look over to Dean, he’s smirking lasciviously.

“Whelp that’s my que to leave.” I announce, not wanting to know her answer. I turn around, heading to the Impala, a certain stabbing feeling echoes in my heart and I know it must be jealousy.

Which is stupid because 1. it’s not like me and Dean are even together, and 2. Dean does not like me in any sort of romantic way.

“Must you cheapen the moment” I hear Haley comment as I walk away, leaning on the hood of the Impala.

A minute or so later Sam joins me, and then Dean.

“Man, I hate camping.” Dean remarked

“Me too.”

“Amen.”

“You know we're gonna find Dad, right?” Dean asks, and I know the question is for Sam.

“Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I'm driving.” Sam says all proudly.

Dean tosses him the keys smiling widely

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #slow burn #wendigo #forest #fanfiction #fanfic #the hunter and the witch

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