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love2write2626 · 2 years

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I Wouldn’t Be Complete Without You

Summary: Tom and Reader have known each other since high school. Best friends... never anything more... even though in secret he always wished something happened between them. As Tom became more and more famous he was in need of an Assistant so who better than his best friend? 20 years later Tom is married... but separated from his wife Katie Holmes, Trying to fix his marriage, raise a child, and work is becoming a lot.

Reader has known Tom since high school. Best friends never anything else... which is very hard for her, she’s been in love with him forever. Now, still best friends, hiding her love for him has become harder and harder over the years. She’s not an actress after all. Now, Tom needs her more than ever with everything going on in his life.

Read Chapter 2 HERE

Read Chapter 3 HERE

I Wouldn’t Be Complete Without You One-Shot Masterlist HERE

Here is chapter 1: Hope you Enjoy!!!

Chapter 1

Y/N’s P.O.V

“No! No. No. No” I said into the phone walking down the stairs, juggling folders, and my shoes which I still hadn’t had a chance to put on yet. “Jackson. No. You have been telling me for two weeks now, that the article is almost done.” I sighed “Jackson, listen” I groaned this man is being a pain in the ass and it’s much too early for this shit. I walked into the kitchen and saw Tom getting breakfast ready for him, and Suri. When he saw me, he gave me a bright smile.

“Morning” He said

“No. No. I’m tired of this, Jackson I need to have a rough draft of that article by noon today, or you will lose the right to print it at all.” I listened as he tried to babble some threat back to me “Jackson, the article was supposed to be printed a week after the interview, which was 2 months ago”

“Coffee?” Tom asked, I gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, and grabbed the cup walking around the kitchen

“Jackson, I’m done with your excuses noon today, or I will have the whole interview retracted and we will take it to literally any other magazine” I said and hung up the phone. I threw my phone on the counter and let out a groan

“Wow, He must of made you really mad Y/N” Suri said in an adorable voice and I giggled

“Don’t worry I’m not mad Suri”

“Nope, I’ve known Y/N for over 20 years… she’s not mad, you’ll know when she’s mad” Tom said with a chuckle, I threw a towel at him which he easily dodged and went back to making breakfast

“Ready for school?” I asked her, as I took another sip of my coffee

“Yup, I got to take lots, and lots of notes today there’s a math test on Friday and today is the test review”

“You’ll do great sweetheart” Tom said, he placed some eggs on her plate, and kissed the top of her head.

“Y/N?” she asked

“Yes?” I asked with a smile

“Will, you help me study for my test tonight” she said with a pouty face, that was very difficult to say no to.

“Sweetheart I would love to, but I have something to do tonight…” I looked at Tom and I didn’t miss the confusion that crossed his face before he went back to making breakfast for himself.

“Please, please… just a few minutes… you always help me study”

“Ok, fine… but only for a little while” she gave me a hug

“Thank you, thank you” she jumped up and started to run for the door

“Sweetie sit down, you haven’t finished breakfast”

“Dad I’m going to miss the bus” she said

“I was hoping I could take you to school today” he said

“Dad” she gave him a look, and I couldn’t help but giggle. She is only 8 years old, but she is a sassy girl… can’t even imagine what’s she’s going to be like as a teenager.

“Ok, I surrender go on” he said, she ran over and gave him a hug before running out the door. He turned back to the stove grabbed the pan and put some eggs on his plate. “I would offer you some, but I know how you hate eating breakfast” I rolled my eyes

“Someone is grumpy this morning” I said

“I just don’t like the idea of her riding the bus” he said

“Tom…”

“She’s only 8”

“Tom, she’s going to be ok. I know you have security following that bus”

“What?” he asked

“Tom, when are you going to learn I know all” I said with a smirk “I have access to your email, texts, phone calls, bank accounts… I see who you call, email, text, and pay… hell I know your social security number… could have stolen your identity years ago, and be living alone on an island” he rolled his eyes

“Very funny, you would miss me” he said

“No, you would miss me, you might be the extraordinary, bad ass actor/stunt man… but you wouldn’t be able to function day to day without me”

“Please” he said with a scoff

“Ok, what’s your social security number?” I asked with a smirk, he glared at me “I’ll try one easier what’s your phone number?” I continued to smirk as I took a sip of my coffee

“Ok, fine you win… jeez you are on a rampage this morning”

“Ok, save the dramatics for the screen Mr. Reacher” I said with a smile.

“That’s Jack Reacher” he said

“Ok, Jack Reacher get ready to go to work”

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I am sitting in Tom’s chair staring at my lap top going through email after email, making appointments, and working my way through Tom’s schedule when my phone dinged

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

I smiled when I read the message from David. I’ve been seeing David in secret for a few months now… and when I say secret I mean secret to Tom. I know if I told him I was seeing someone he will go into all protective mode. It always annoys the shit out of me.

“What’s got you smiling?” he asked, I looked up I didn’t even realize they cut

“Oh, this pathetic excuse of an article Jackson sent me” I said giggling

“So what are we doing tonight?”

“Huh?” I asked

“You said you couldn’t help Suri tonight because we had plans, I didn’t realize we did”

“No… I said I had plans”

“You have plans?” he asked

“Yeah, isn’t that strange? I have a life outside of you”

“So what are Your plans?” he asked

“My plans are none of your business” I said, he smirked

“I’ll figure out your plans”

“What?”

“By refusing to tell me, you have given me a challenge… I’ll figure it out”

“You’re an idiot, go back to set” he kissed my cheek

“I’ll figure it out” he said walking off, I bit my lip and gently touched where he kissed me… even though we kissed each other on the cheek very often it always made me want to blush whenever he kissed mine. I walked closer to the set, and watched Tom. He is an incredible actor, and no matter how hard I try I can’t help but fall in love with him over and over again. It might sound strange but I have loved him since I was 17, the moment I locked eyes with him… I was done for

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20 years ago

I am sitting reading my book for English class, as always I am drawn in by the beautiful literature before me. Shakespeare is my favorite author… so far, I know as I get older I will be exposed to more and more authors that are equally as good… maybe even better.

I am currently sitting outside on the bleachers away from everyone, not one you would call popular. I keep to myself that’s how I like it, since I live in a time where liking to read is known as a loser thing to do, I just accepted that fate and stay away from everyone.

“Excuse me” I looked up and locked eyes with Tom Cruise… he’s one of the popular boys in school. I looked around trying to figure out who he was talking to. This gorgeous man can’t be talking to the weirdo who likes to read, and wears glasses.

“Me?” I asked, and he chuckled

“Yeah, I mean there’s no one else here” he said, and I blushed “Y/N, right?” he asked

“Yeah… um that’s my name” I said hesitantly

“Well, we’re in the same English class, and I forgot to write down the assignment I was hoping you could tell me what it is”

“Oh, sure. One second” I put the book down, and reached for my bag to pull out my binder

“Romeo and Juliet?” he asked “Didn’t we read this one already?” he asked

“Um yeah… but the assignment is to pick one of the Shakespeare plays and write about it, and as clique as it is, this is my favorite… I think I’ve read it 10 times” I said, I blushed and reached for my binder again and he chuckled. Great now he’s going to start making fun of me.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou her maid art far more fair than she.” I looked at him expecting him to be looking at the book but to my surprise we was looking at me

“You know Romeo and Juliet?” I asked

“Yeah, we already read it” he said with a chuckle

“But you know it by memory” I said, he just smirked

“I may have read it a few times myself”

“You like to read?” I asked

“Why do you seem so shocked?” he asked confused

“Well… I mean… um… I’m just going to let you copy the assignment and not say anything else” I said

“Is it because I’m popular?” I shrugged my shoulders

“Well, yeah”

“Eh, it’s not all its cracked up to be… I’m not really sure how I got wrapped up with them. We really don’t have much in common”

“Well, you dating the cheer captain probably has something to do with it… and the fact you are ridiculously good looking”

“Really?” he said smirking

“Did I say that out loud?” I said, and he just kept smirking “Well, now that I just made a complete fool out of myself, I’m going to leave…” I ripped out the paper in my notebook with the assignment. “Take it, I don’t need it”

“Hey, hey… you don’t have to leave… I’m sorry for embarrassing you. It’s ok, many people tell me I’m good looking”

“Now you’re just being arrogant” I said

“Well, I think you’re very beautiful” he said, and I’m sure my heart stopped “I think your glasses are adorable, and your hair is really pretty” suddenly I got angry, this is got to be a joke. One of the popular guys coming over here to complement me?

“You’re just here to make fun of me aren’t you?” I stood up, to walk away but he grabbed my hand

“I’m not making fun of you” he said, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling running through my body as he held onto my hand “I’m not lying, I’m not an asshole”

“Why?” he laughed

“Why, do I think you’re pretty?”

“Why, are you here talking to me? I’m a nobody”

“Everybody is somebody… social status means nothing… and I like you, you seem really nice. You never give me the chance to talk to you, you always run out of class before I can reach you”

“I don’t understand why you want to get to know me”

“Because you don’t care about me”

“What?”

“You are the only person in the school who doesn’t run to my side and want to talk to me”

“So you’re making it your mission to talk to me?”

“Not a mission… I just want to talk to someone who likes things other than popularity” I looked at him confused “I like school, I love reading, history, and drama. I love it all. I want to talk to someone who also like learning things, my favorite thing to do it learn new things” I opened my mouth to speak, when Jessica appeared

“Tom” she said in her annoying voice “Tom, why are you here, you’re supposed to walk me to practice” she said

“I was just talking to Y/N… we were talking about Romeo and Juliet” she looked at me with disgust

“You sit with my boyfriend for 2 minutes, and you already infected him with your nerdiness” she said with disgust “Tom, let’s go before she turns you into a complete nerd” she said giggling

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”

“What?” she asked him

“You can’t talk to her like that”

“Why not? She’s a loser”

“No, she’s a person like everyone else… and no one deserves to be spoken to like that”

“Tom, let’s go”

“No, I’m going to stay here and talk to my friend, you can take yourself to cheer practice”

“Tom, if you don’t walk me to cheer practice then we are done” she said

“Ok, fine” he said standing up, I sighed he was doing so well then she threatened him with a break up and he followed her. I watched as she leaned in to kiss him, but he stepped back. “Ok, fine I’m breaking up with you.”

“You’re breaking up with me, because of this loser?” she asked

“No, I’m breaking up with you, because I’m tired of you being so controlling, being a bitch to everyone… oh, you having sex with the quarter back in the locker room”

“That only happened one time” she said, wow she wasn’t even going to deny it

“I know for a fact it happened 4 times” she looked shocked “So, goodbye” he said

“You’re going to regret this Tom, no one breaks up with me” she stormed off, and he walked back over to me and sat down.

“Are you ok?” I asked

“Yeah, I honestly feel free” he said with a smile

“So, what do you say… you wanna be my friend? I know for a fact she’s going to turn the whole school against me… I need someone on my side” he said with a chuckle. I smiled

“Sure”

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I looked at myself in the mirror, putting the finishing touches on my makeup getting ready for my date.

“So I guess you going to the spa is not your plans for the night” I jumped

“Tom, you can’t just walk in here” I said

“It’s my house” he said

“Yeah, but this is my room. Which I pay you rent for” he rolled his eyes

“Please, that money you give me every month goes into your next paycheck… I would never let you pay me to live here” I groaned

“What, do you want?”

“Where are you going?” he asked, I pushed past him and went downstairs to get my purse

“Tom, you don’t need to know everything I do” I said as he followed behind me

“I don’t need to know, but as your best friend I want to know” I sighed he is never going to give this up

“I’m going on a date” he gave me a blank stare, after a few seconds he finally said “anyone I know?”

“No.”

“How, did you meet?”

“Through a friend” I said

“What’s his name?”

“David”

“David…”

“You don’t get his last name, because I know you’re going to do a back ground check and tell me all the reasons I can’t date him” he looked shocked

“No, I…”

“Tom, you’ve done that for every guy I have ever dated. Trust me, we’ve been seeing each other for a few months… he’s a nice guy” I said with a smile

“I just worry about you, You and Suri are the most important people in my life. If anything happened to you…”

“Tom, I’m going to be fine… now go help Suri study. I’ll see you later” I said walking out the door.

“Wait” I turned around

“He’s um… he’s a lucky guy, you look beautiful” he said. I walked over and kissed his cheek

“Thank you for not being over bearing about this” I said

“Go have fun” he said with a fake smile. as I reached the door, I heard “Just be careful, and be sure he treats you with the respect you deserve”

“I will” I turned around to look at him, but he was already headed up the stairs. David a really nice guy, and I really like him… but why am I so heart broken? When will I stop loving Tom?

So what did you think?

Next Chapter will talk more about Tom’s upcoming divorce.

@luckyladycreator2 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @blue-aconite @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @peaches-1999 @callsign-blue @dempy @roostersforevergirl @allivingstone01 @harper1666

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mommymlkrs · 1 year

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~ The Truth ~

PART 1

(I’ve had this saved as a draft for like ever and idk if I’m gonna write a part 2, sorry guys!😬)

~ Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/n find a new case in which the goddess of truth is looking for tributes. Dean and Y/n also investigate why Sam has been acting weird ever since he got back from hell while dealing with their own feelings.

~ Pairings: Dean Winchester x Fem Reader

~ Warnings: Swearing, mentions of suicide, fighting, angst, fluff.

Main characters include:

(Y/n) Reader

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

*Based off of season 6 episode 6* *spoilers*

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“She said that? She really just told her sister to kill herself? Wow.” Y/n said with astonishment.

“Yep.” Both Dean and Y/n were sitting in the motel room trying to figure out this new found case they had. Suddenly the door opened and in walked Sam.

“There was another one.” Sam stated to the pair.

“Yeah? What?” Questioned Y/n as they both stood up from the bed.

“Dentist drilled a guy to death.”

“You mean the non-sexy kind of drilling. Right?” Dean poked in.

“Fifty bucks says he’s mixed up in all the crazy.” Sam continued ignoring Dean’s dumb question.

“You think?”

“Let’s go talk to him.” Sam gestured to the both of them.

“Why don’t you guys go ahead, I’ll catch up. I’m gonna do a little research.” Dean said to them.

“You sure?” Sam questioned suspiciously.

“Yeah, we gotta know what we’re up against. Right?”

“Yeah, yeah, good idea. Coming Y/n?”

“I’ll actually stick with Dean this time around, still gotta change my bandage. Meet you later?” Y/n replied wanting to know what’s up with Dean.

“Yeah, for sure.” Sam then walked out and shut the door. Dean turned away and rubbed his face.

“What’s up with you?” Questioned Y/n. Dean turned to face her.

“Nothin’.”

“Dean.” He knew she wouldn’t give it up so he sat on the bed and sighed.

“My skin crawls being in the same room as him. He hasn’t been the same since, Y/n.”

“Who? Sam?”

“Who else?”

“He seems fine to me. Maybe he’s just you know, growing into himself.” Y/n tries to come up with an explanation.

“I think he’s far past puberty Y/n. And you haven’t known him for 27 years like I have. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Dean looks down at his lap and fiddles with his beer. Y/n walks over to him and sits on the bed beside him to comfort him.

“If you think somethings wrong, I believe you. We’ll figure this out Dean.” Y/n says and he turns his head to look into her eyes smiling. Dean perks up feeing tense.

“Want me to change that bandage?”

“Yeah actually. Thank you.” She smiles at him.

After Dean wrapped her wrist, the ring of his cellphone made them jump from the break of silence and Dean picked it up. Once Sam’s and his conversation was over, Dean ended the call.

“Looks like we’re going to the dentist sweetheart.”

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After Y/n and Dean made their way to the dentist office they found some evidence of what the victims had in common. ‘Harry’s House of Horns.’ They found some names and went searching for answers.

“Jane and Dr. Conley. I heard, how awful. But what do I have to do with it?” Asked Harry.

“Honestly you’re the only thing they have in common.” Dean replied to the man.

“Did they say anything to you before they..” Y/n chimed in.

“Sorry, not really.” He said knowing what she was referring too.

“Okay. Thank you though.” She gave him a smile and Dean followed her out of the shop. Before they could leave the man hollered out.

“Hey, by the way. How about my horn?”

“Sorry?” Dean asked.

“Stolen horn?”

“Right. Yeah. We’re working on it.”

“Well I hope so. Things one in a billion.”

“What makes it one in a billion?” Y/n asked confused.

“It’s a museum piece. Near as anyone can tell, about a thousand years old.” Harry opened a book showing a picture and description of the ancient horn.

“Where’s it from?” Questioned Dean.

“No one knows.”

“When did it get swiped?”

“About two weeks ago. Same day Jane died.” He tried to recall. Both Y/n and Dean look at each other knowing somethings up.

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Back at the motel, the pair researched the horn finding out it is an angelic weapon. Dean grabbed his glass and shut the laptop, tossing it on the bed.

“You hear that Cas? Angelic weapon, kind of your department.” Dean said to no one in particular trying to summon Castiel.

“Dean. He hasn’t answered our calls in days.” As soon as she said it Cas decided to swoop in.

“Hello Y/n. Hello Dean.”

“Are you kidding me? I have been on red alert about Sam, and you come for some stupid horn?” Dean raised his voice at him.

“You asked me to be here and I came.”

“We’ve been asking you to be here for days! You dick.”

“Dean. Don’t you think Cas would’ve come if he had answers about Sam?” Y/n stood beside Dean trying to get through to him.

“You wouldn’t just ignore us for no reason. Would you Cas?” Y/n asked Cas calmly, keeping her trust in him.

“I have nothing to offer about Sam.”

“Well that’s great. Because for all we know, he’s gift wrap for Lucifer.” Dean states, obviously still pissed.

“No. He’s not Lucifer.”

“And how do you know that?” Dean questioned.

“If Lucifer escaped the cage. We’d feel it.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with Sam, Cas?” Y/n stepped closer.

“I don’t know Y/n. I’m sorry.”

“What happened to you Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one.” Dean looked hurt.

“I’m at war.” Cas turned away from them and sighed.

“Certain regrettable things are now required of me.” Cas says.

“And Gabriel’s ‘Horn of Truth’? That’s a real thing?” Dean asked.

“Seen it?” Cas asked them facing them again.

“We think it’s in town.” Y/n replied and Cas disappeared.

“Well. Your welcome!” Dean said sarcastically.

“It isn’t the ‘Horn of Truth’.” A voice came from behind them. The pair turned around to find Cas once again.

“You were gone like two seconds. Where did you look?”

“Everywhere.”

“Right. Well nice seeing you anyway.” Dean faced away from Cas.

“About Sam. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. But I do wanna help. I’ll make inquiries.” Cas faced Y/n but saying it to both of them.

“Thank you, Cas.” Y/n said sweetly and he disappeared once again. Y/n then faced Dean as he looked at the floor after putting his drink down. Y/n slowly walked over to Dean and put a hand on his cheek.

“Dean. He’s trying his best.” Dean raised his head and looked into her eyes. Dean looked at her lips and then her eyes again suddenly grabbing her face and kissing her. Y/n didn’t realize what was happening until a few moments later, she kissed him back for a split second before pulling away and putting her hands on his wrists.

“Dean. Dean. I- your drunk, your angry. You don’t know what you’re doing.” Y/n tried to reassure him.

“I know exactly what I’m doing Y/n. Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

“Dean. I’m sorry but, no. I promise you, you’re not in your right mind right now. Can we just talk about this a different time?” Y/n felt bad for rejecting him. She has had a crush on Dean for what felt like forever but this was definitely not the time, and what if, with all the emotions going on in his head right now, he regrets it later? She wanted it to be at the right time.

“Uh yeah. Um I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Dean turned around and poured himself another glass of liquor gulping it down.

“Dean. Don’t be mad. This just isn’t the right time for this.” Dean turned around at that.

“Why is everyone so scared of hurting my feelings lately? Is it so hard to ask for the freaking truth around here!?” Dean raised his voice at her.

“I’m sorry Dean. I- I’ve just been in love you for so long, I don’t wanna have this come up at such a shitty time, literally one of the worst times. Where Sam is acting like one of Lucifer’s spawns! And where you a- are being a piss angry dick drunk idiot!” Y/n started to yell at Dean not knowing where this came from. She definitely did not plan to tell him that, why did she even say that?

“Why’d I just say that? It’s definitely not like I daydream about you and your hands roaming my body every single day.” Y/n’s eyes go wide and so do Dean’s.

“Why did I just say that!?” Y/n slapped her hands over her mouth turning away from Dean, too embarrassed to face him.

“Uhm, great confession time Y/n.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean too.” She apologized.

“It’s alright. I think I know why you did.” Dean looked like a lightbulb went on in his head.

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Y/n and Dean made their way to meet Sam but Dean asked her to stay in the car while he talked to Sam for a minute, he wanted to try out his new ‘truth serum’. After finding out Sammy was fine and had not lied to Dean they all went back to the motel.

“So this was the chick’s pet?” Dean asked.

“Well, she was obsessed.” Sam replied.

“I think you mean crazy.”

“Alright so, cat skull. Grains of paradise seed. Devils shoestring. Mix them well, and you got yourself a summoning spell.”

“So, demon?” Y/n chimed in asking Sam.

“God. Corey was so desperate for the truth about her boyfriend’s cheating heart. She went digging around. Nothing panned out, so she went looking for a different kind of help.” Sam moved the laptop screen so Y/n and Dean could take a good look at it.

“Opened a door she couldn’t close.” Said Y/n.

“Yeah, and now anyone in town who asks aloud for ‘the truth’. Invokes Veritas. And she doesn’t just give it to you, she slams you with it. Till you kill yourself, and she gets her tribute.” Sam explained.

“So, all that tribute vanishing from the morgue. What do you think? A Soylent Green situation?”

“God’s gotta eat too. Which means we gotta take her out, or you’re on the menu.” Sam refers to Dean.

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Sam sat on one bed watching all the clips from a certain news lady with his earbuds in seeing if he could catch anything while Y/n sat on the other bed reading a book she had brought. Dean eventually hopped in the spot beside her making her put her book down.

“Listen, Y/n. About earlier.” Dean started.

“It’s fine Dean.” Y/n said not wanting to relive that embarrassing moment.

“No, it’s not. You were right, I was drunk and pissed at Sam and Cas. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Although, it seemed like you daydream about a little more than that.” Dean smirked and Y/n’s cheeks went pink, she put her hands on her face trying to hide her smile.

“Hey check this out.” Sam took out his earbuds rewinding the footage back. Y/n and Dean made their way over to Sam. He pressed play on the video which was a news lady being interrupted by a barking dog in the background.

“Wait, zoom in on that.” Y/n spotted something. Sam zoomed in and the woman’s eyes were a bright glowing blue, definitely not normal. The 3 of them looked at each other.

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The 3 made their way inside the ‘news woman’s’ house, they were caught off guard by her and were roughly thrown across the room being knocked out.

After waking up with their wrists tied behind them to separate pillars, the woman in elegant clothing tore off the tongue of a dead man lying on the table beside her. She lifted the tongue to her face.

“The tongue is the tastiest part. It’s where the lies roll off.” She took a bite of it making satisfied sounds.

“I cannot wait to eat yours. I mean I’ve seen lies before, but you three? Gold standard.”

“Point of professional pride.” Dean said smiling.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Dean. You know what happens when you base your life on lies, right? The truth comes along and..” She doesn’t finish her sentence walking around the room.

“So, while you’ve still got your tongue. God knows you’ve gotten an earful. I think it’s your turn to spill some.” She bent down talking to Dean.

“How about we play a little Truth or Truth? What should we ask Dean first, hmm? Something personal about one of you?” She says looking between Y/n and Sam.

“Hey Dean. I’m curious. What do you really feel about your brother?”

“Better now. As of yesterday I wanted to kill him in his sleep.” Sam gave Dean a confused look.

“I thought he was a monster. But now I think..”

“Now you think what?” The woman asks.

“He’s just acting like me.”

“What do you mean?” She pushes.

“It’s the gig. You’re covered in blood till you’re in your own blood. Half the time you’re about to die. Like right now. I told myself I wanted out. That I wanted a family.” Y/n looks down at her lap at Dean’s words.

“But you were lying.”

“No. But what I’m good at is slicing throats. I ain’t a father, I’m a killer. And there’s no changing that, I know that now.”

“Dean..” Y/n had tears in her eyes. The woman stood up and walked around.

“So Sam walking back into your life must have been a relief as well as Y/n entering it. Hm? And how do you feel about joining the band? Y/n?” She crouched down beside her.

“I- I can’t really complain. They’re the only family I have left.” Y/n said sniffling her tears back.

“And, your feelings towards Dean? They don’t compromise that?” Sam looks at Y/n.

“I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?” After that, Sam suddenly cuts in.

“Look lady, what we do is hard. But we watch out for each other. And that’s what’s important. And that’s it, that’s the truth.” She looks at him in disbelief.

“No. No. It’s not.”

“You said yourself. I can’t lie.” Says Sam as she gets up.

“How are you doing that?! That’s not possible. You’re lying to me!”

“No, I’m not!”

“What are you? What is he?!” She looks at Y/n and Dean for answers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam replies.

“Really? I doubt that. I doubt anything that comes out of your mouth right now! You’re not human.” She says through gritted teeth.

“What?” Dean and Y/n say in unison.

“You guys didn’t know that? Now that I believe.” Suddenly Sam’s restraints snap and he lunges forward to punch her, they both fight as Dean and Y/n struggle to get their restraints off. Dean cuts his free with the knife given to him by Sam and goes to grab a weapon after he passed the knife to Y/n. As the woman is choking Sam, Dean hits her in the back but not well enough before Y/n stabs her in the chest after breaking free. Y/n twists the knife inside her and she falls the the ground. The 3 of them stand up out of breath but Dean brings his knife up in front of Sam.

“Dean? What’re you doing!?” Y/n asks.

“Dean, it’s me.” Sam reassures him after he ignored Y/n’s question.

“You are not my brother.”

“Just listen-“

“What are you?!” Dean yells.

“Dean stop!” Y/n tried to cut in.

“It’s me Dean!” Sam says as Dean steps closer to him.

“Look. Please. Just let me explain-“

“Why should I believe anything you say?”

“Okay okay, you want the truth? Here it is.” Dean slowly puts the knife down.

“She was right. There’s something wrong with me. Really wrong. I’ve known for awhile now. I’ve lied to you guys, yeah.. And I let you get turned by that vamp, because I knew there was a cure. And we needed in that nest! And I knew you could handle it!”

“Sam..” Y/n said his name with disappointment.

“Handle it?? I could have died!” Dean raged.

“And that should have stop me cold. But I- I just don’t feel it.”

“You what?”

“Ever since I came back. I am a better hunter than I have ever been! Nothing scared me anymore. Cause I can’t feel it- I don’t know.. What’s wrong with me. I think.. I need help.” Y/n looked at Sam with tears in her eyes. Dean just turned, put his knife down and turned back to Sam who let out a breath. Dean took a moment before lunging his fist at him making Sam fall the the floor until Dean picked him back up by his shirt punching him again and again and again.

“DEAN! STOP, PLEASE.” Y/n screamed at Dean scared he would go too far. After a few more punches Dean backed off leaving Sam’s face unrecognizable with all the blood and his lifeless body just lying there.

“Dean..” She looked at him with hurt in her eyes until she turned to aid to Sammy.

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poststormjitters · 4 months

Text

Consolidated story progress 2022-23

I'm bringing my updates onto one post instead of taking up most of what I have on this blog. Art should be the majority! Not repeated walls of text as I try to track some data. Having it all on one post should also make it easier for my brain to look back at my patterns from *checks notes* nearly two years ago (whoof). I haven't really been writing for myself very much this past year, but I would like to get back to it (and more art) soon. The blogger may be constantly tired, but the blog isn't abandoned!

Thank you to anyone who reads my notes, much appreciated :)

---

Dec 21 2023 (today as of writing): 46334 total. 105 pages.

<2023: no updates b/c very little writing. Did not, in fact, finish this draft and start second draft this year>

Dec 19 2022: +443 words. 44544 total. Notes: It’s been kind of a while since I’ve sat down with intention, though I’ve caught some opportunities for a few sentences here and there. I’m trying a new POV and having some extra free time helps. I am on (I believe) the final third and I have my outline in a good place. Resolutions and wrap-ups, ~50 pages left. All the respect to nanowimo writers. There’s only a few more days left in December, but I hope to finish this draft and start my second draft next year.

July 18 2022: +5,236 words since last update (plus uncounted planning). 33,565 total (more than 30k, woah!). 75 pages. Notes: Not sure how much I'll sick to it, but I've been thinking the story will be "segmented" into three parts. The first 50 is my setup, the next 50 is the body and building off the set ups, the final 50 will be the climax and payoffs/end. I'm halfway through the second "arc." I recently read that 30k is about a third of a novel, which is validating and puts me right about on track. They're small enough chunks that I can have goals and planning, but they're big enough that I don't feel constrained so I can still stretch and play. I stopped reading to my friend about 50 pages in because we just caught up to where my writing left off, and I do so infrequently enough that it seemed silly to read to them only every couple of nights (and have the pressure to keep up with it like that). We agreed that where we left of was actually a really good place. “Like a season cliffhanger” and thinking about it like that-- three sections with their own arcs set within an overall story--has been super helpful to how I’m choosing to pace. It’s just my first draft, so it only has to exist, but this way of thinking about it is new for me and I like the way it sits in my brain.

June 22 2022: +1,909 words. 28,329 total (almost 30k, wow!). +5 pages. Notes: this is from two days, but they’re getting one update because I forgot. Working title achieved!

June 10 2022: +1204 words +3 pages :)

June 6 2022: +617 words. 52 pages.

May 18 2022: +499 words. 24019 total.

May 9 2022: +1,472 words in planning. Notes: Wanted to put down the progress :) Reading to my friend has caught up with how far I’ve written, and I’ve been a little stuck on what comes next. But I think I have a direction again. It’s still a little rough on what’s directly next, but I’m feeling good for what’s generally after.

April 25 2022: +608 words. 22,055 total. 51 pages. Notes: I deleted a couple paragraphs. Things are amping *up*!

April 25 2022: +972 words. 21,331 total. 50 pages. Notes: I just did a crush scene and I feel all blushy, aw

April 18 2022: +3,979 since last update. 20,337 total (20k!). 48 pages. Notes: Plot is coming together. I don't quite know what is coming after this next bit, but it's the first draft and we'll figure it out as we go. It just has to exist. We’re gonna get dramatic slice-of-life-y here soon! Reading to a friend is definitely helping me be motivated. The internal sense of "needing to write more because we're going to run out of story to read" keeps a deadline feeling going. Plus, though there's a lot that's still up in the air (ha), it’s fun and encouraging to share with someone and re-read things without the time or intention to edit.

March 4 2022: +594 words. 38 pages.

Feb 21 2022: +459 words. 36 pages.

Feb 5 2022: +958 words. Notes: Also character work/ brainstorming.

Feb 2 2022: +613 words. 33 pages.

Feb 1 2022: +359 words. 13,734 total. 32 pages.

#my writing #jitter's writing #writers on tumblr #writing #tfotdhs

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smoochkooks · 2 years

Text

—chapter thirteen: this is a story of love

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut

word count: 1.2k

summary: “this is a story of love so strong, it reaches stars. love so strong, that it makes you weak. love even greatest poets couldn’t find the right words to describe. but I did. I had my heart broken so many times, I wrote an ode to honor it.”

previous || next

a/n: here’s what the cover of oc’s book looks like :)

Three months later

There’s a scene at the end of Little Women that hasn’t left your mind ever since you saw it two years ago.

Jo March is standing behind a glass wall. Her eyes, wide with fascination, glued to the picture before her: a book – her own story about March sisters – is being printed.

Two years ago, at the cinema, you wouldn’t have even dared to think that one day, this could be you – at the printing house owned by Varieté Publishing, watching An Ode To A Broken Heart coming to life.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

Jung Ji-eun, the woman from Varieté appointed to monitor the release of your book, looks as polished as always. Her auburn hair is longer again, and you wonder if she reconciled with her husband after all.

“I always take here our new authors to show them how the whole process looks like,” she says, a hint of smile on her plump lips, tainted with dark nude matte lipstick. “That’s the moment most of them actually starts realising this is really happening, that they’re soon gonna have their books sold all over the country.”

Casting your eyes down, you once again take a glance at the book in your hands. The very first, printed copy of An Ode To A Broken Heart Ji-eun handed you today upon arriving at Varieté. Somehow it looks much different than what you saw on the computer’s screen when the design team showed you the final draft of the cover. It looks even better up close, feels real when you’re holding it, and smells just how you love. Like new books.

The art piece you choose is simple yet it carries meaning hidden underneath the black swirls and lines. Two faces, their eyes closed. Man planting a kiss on woman’s forehead. Gesture of intimacy, yet it’ll never be more than that.

“It feels so... weird. I can’t believe it’s all true,” you respond to Ji-eun after a moment, shaking your head. “But I’m happy. So, so happy and grateful. I might be a writer but right now I can’t find the right words to describe my emotions well.” you chuckle.

Ji-eun smiles, this time without hesitation, and places her palm on your shoulder. “And we are happy to have such a talented, young artist collaborating with us. But before we officially celebrate, we need to discuss a few more things today. Want to grab a coffee with me?” she asks, to which you answer with a nod.

Minutes later, you’re sitting in a coffee shop across the street from Varieté. Ji-eun is scrolling through her iPad as you sip on your pumpkin spice latte.

“The ebook version of An Ode To A Broken Heart has scored the highest number of preorders ever since Cho Nam-joo announced the publication of Kim Ji-young, Born 1982,” she says and shows you the Instagram post on Varieté’s account which officially started your book’s promotions. “Look here. We were worried before that people wouldn’t like the author being anonymous but they are actually more intrigued to read it now.”

jisoo.choi1996: Can’t wait to read it! I wonder who Magnolia May really is.

meimeireads: I love sad stories. I’m ready to cry.

soheexoxo: anonymous author? she must have been hurt by that guy sooo bad. poor girl

kimeunha89: Preview seems really interesting. I normally don’t go for angsty stories but I’m curious about his one

“Wow,” you murmur, reading the comments. They’re all so nice, sending you words of encouragement. You didn’t think you’d receive such positive feedback. “So people are into unrequited love stories, after all.”

Ji-eun laughs, for sure reminded about her own words of concern she said to you during your first meeting. And here you are now, just a few days before the official release.

“So Soohyun didn’t confess to Haneul, after all,” she states, placing down her iPad on the table. She’s referring to the main characters of the book that are supposed to represent you and Jungkook. “But that last conversation between them wasn’t in the final draft, though. Why did you insist on adding it?” she asks.

Taking a deep breath, you recall the memory Ji-eun is speaking of. You, dancing with Jungkook, the frown on his face when you told him the truth about Yoongi.

“Someone who was with me at the wedding suggested I should do so.”

Ji-eun lifts her perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You do understand what this scene might indicate for the readers?” That this is not an ending, you answer silently. “It for sure gives them some scrambles of hope, maybe even more. Obviously, that’s a good strategy. People love to speculate. But why?” she presses. “Why did you end the story like that?”

“Maybe I’m not ready to let it all go just yet.”

You think about Yoongi’s words. He might have misinterpreted the whole situation. From his point of view, it could’ve looked... intense, but you were there, in front of Jungkook, and you didn’t feel anything beside concern and anger coming from him. But again, your judgement might be as well clouded and you’re refusing to believe him because you’ve never had anyone look at your relationship with Jungkook from different perspective.

Look at it objectively.

“I know a thing or two about hope. I was hoping for a long time that my husband would change because I loved him so much that I didn’t think rationally.” Ji-eun confesses. You spare a look at her hands folded in front of you. There’s no wedding ring on her finger anymore. “Was I foolish to do so? Maybe. It didn’t work out for me but I don’t regret trying to fight. At the end of the day, hope doesn’t cost as anything.”

But are you really capable of waiting maybe yet another twenty years for Jungkook? You’ve already given up so much, yet it all appeared to be futile. And you know that even if one day you’ll move on and give your heart away to someone else, Jungkook will always remain there, burried deep inside your memory as your first and only true love.

In Greek mythology, when Pandora opened the box gifted her by the gods with countless plagues put inside, only one item remained and did not escape. It was hope.

“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” you quote.

One corner of Ji-eun's lips lifts up. “Pablo Neruda.”

You nod. “I like this quote because it refers to inevitability but it’s also about not losing hope even in the darkest times.”

“And that’s exactly what I wish you, ___,” Ji-eun says at last. “To find happiness even among all your hardships.”

This is a story of love so strong, it reaches stars. Love so strong, that it makes you weak. Love even greatest poets couldn’t find the right words to describe. But I did. I had my heart broken so many times, I wrote an ode to honor it. This is my own testament of the things I had lost and never had them given me back. If I could dedicate this book to only one person, I would choose me.

To the new beginnings and hope.

Magnolia May.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #an ode to a broken heart

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

Note

Prompt: fake realtionahip/marriage, whoever you like!

Ooohoho! This has been chilling as a draft for ages, now I have completed it. *mildly evil laughter*

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The funny thing about Geralt, Jaskier thought as he did up the buttons on his best doublet, was that he really didn’t lie. He said things that weren’t true, but they were usually things he believed, or thought he believed because he was tired or grumpy. Sometimes he told half truths. He didn’t lie though.

It wasn’t even as if he didn’t have a poker face, Geralt’s face was all poker face, he just hated lying. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but tonight, Jaskier reflected, it wouldn’t be ideal.

Jaskier had heard through some whispered words at a pub that a bunch of Nilfgaardian nobles were having a gala, and the temptation of finding out what political secrets they could was two strong for their odd little family. So Geralt and Jaskier were going undercover.

There had been quite a bit of debate about that. Jaskier was obviously going. He’d grown his hair longer and had a bit of scruff going, and to be frank, all a bard really needed to disguise themselves was a new name, people saw the clothing and heard the music, but rarely remembered the face. Yennefer would have been the ideal partner in crime except for a crucial thing.

When Yennefer had been changed by magic, her eyes had been left the same. Somehow, the transformation had solidified them, and no spell would change them. Her eyes were too distinctive, and so she would stay behind with Ciri. That left Geralt, and since the ball was only for the nobility, he would be the fiance of Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

Damn.

See, Geralt didn’t lie, and that was bad enough. Jaskier wouldn’t be able to rely on Yennefer’s in-depth knowledge of the nobility and that was worse. Worst of all though, was the fact that Jaskier would have to spend a night full of wine and dancing pretending to be in love with, and engaged to, Geralt. Who he loved.

And who had, not three months ago, blamed Jaskier for every bad thing in life.

Since then Geralt had caught up with him half-way down the mountain and there had been some grumbled words about how Jaskier ‘wasn’t actually, exactly, a total curse’. Not a glowing review, but then Cintra had fallen, and they had Cirilla and they’d found a wounded Yennefer and it had all gotten so very busy.

Jaskier cast a last look in the mirror as the door to his room creaked open. He turned, expecting Geralt, but it was Yennefer.

“I suppose,” she said, eyeing him. “That this is as good as you get.” It could have been said cruelly. A year ago it would have been. Now, though, the words were fond.

“I like the kohl, it goes well with the wrinkles at your eyes,” she winked. He smiled. There were no more wrinkles now than had been twenty years ago, and they both knew it.

“I wasn’t sure about the eyeliner,” Jaskier said, trying to sound haughty. “Overdramatic eye looks are your thing.”

Yennefer chuckled and sat on the end of the bed. “A tiny smudge of eyeliner is hardly overdramatic.” She studied him approvingly, then looked at him. Her expression was frighteningly soft.

“Have you told him that you love him?”

“Never,” Jaskier said, fiving his cravat in the mirror.

“Why ever not?”

“It would only be the mountain all over again,” Jaskier sighed. “I tried, you know. I spent years trying, and then on the mountain, I thought I was being clear...”

“What did you say?”

“I asked him to leave it all, just for a little while, with me. I thought we could go to the coast.”

“The coast,” Yennefer said from her spot on the bed. “As in Lettenhove? You wanted to show him where you grew up?”

“Partially. I could explain the immortality business easier if he met my sister, but mostly I just thought it would be peaceful.”

Yennefer snorted. “With Geralt? Peaceful? He’d spend the whole time fighting drowners and telling you not to write about mermaids because they’re vicious.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “That’s pretty peaceful for him.”

“But he said no?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Jaskier said. “Then he, well, you know, he spent the night in your tent.”

“Ah,” Yennefer said. “For what it’s worth, I hate that it happened too.”

“He doesn’t though!” Jaskier cried, whirling around to face her. “He wants it to happen again! And you! You don’t want him but he wants you while I want him!” The frustration of the whole situation and nerves for what was to come were overwhelming. “And you’re here, trying to help me,” he said more quietly. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Yennefer said, simply, standing from the bed. “And I like him. I also never, ever want to kiss him again. The djinn is sitting, somewhere in my chest, telling me I love him, but the feeling is...sick. It feels like love, as well as I can remember, but it’s poisoned and twisted and I want no part in it.”

Her purple eyes pinned Jaskier to the floor.

“And that poison pales in comparison to how much you love him. He deserves that.”

She swept out the door, tossing a “Sort it out,” over her shoulder.

Well.

The next knock at the door was Geralt, Ciri in tow. Jaskier hoped the witcher hadn’t heard any part of his and Yennefer’s conversation, but he suspected that no one overheard conversations that Yen didn’t want them too.

“Dandelion!” Ciri said, leaping at him and using the name she’d first met him under. “You look nice! Like a prince in one of your stories!”

Jaskier blushed and thanked her quietly as he scooped her up and tossed her, laughing, onto the bed.

He looked at Geralt for his opinion.

Oh he looked so good too. Yennefer had charmed him so that anyone else would see a different man in Geralt’s place, but to Jaskier he looked just the same. But he was wearing white.

A white chemise, the collar and cuffs with fine red embroidery, with a cream colored cape, half length so it fell just to Geralt’s hips. It was embroidered too, green and pink and so many other colors, despite being overall still mostly cream. The pants were the same creamy fabric with a stripe down each side. Dark boots and a wide, decorative, dark belt completed the look.

“Wow,” Jaskier said.

“Rivian traditional clothing,” Geralt muttered.

“I thought you’d hardly actually been to Rivia,” Jaskier said,.It was a better choice than the other thoughts in his head, which were half-formed screams about how absolutely skin tight those pants were.

“I haven’t been, but my...character is.”

“Right,” Jaskier said, dragging his eyes above Geralt’s shoulders. “My fiance, Ludomir of Rivia.”

Geralt said nothing.

Jaskier kicked himself for mentioning the fiance thing.

“We should go,” he said.

And they went.

The lord’s castle was small, as castles go, and the guards at the gate didn’t even bother to check their invitations. With all the other lords and ladies streaming past, no one would guess that the pair were out of place. Jaskier and Geralt enterred the ballroom and Jaskier felt his stomach drop straight through to his shoes.

The walls were positively lined with Nilfgaardian soldiers. Geralt’s shoulders stiffened too, but they steered themselves to a feast table as if nothing was wrong.

It took them almost a full circle of the tables to find the two little cards for ‘Viscount de Lettenhove’ and ‘Guest’. Getting onto the guest list had been laughably easy, and Jaskier just sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the stupid title was finally useful for something.

They sat in their places and guests populated the seats around them. There was a lady next to Jaskier who already smelled of the strongly alcoholic sherry that was being served. Her hair, probably a wig towered, and was strung all over with so many pearls and little tiny golden ornaments that when she stepped outside she must surely be attacked by magpies.

“My lady,” Jaskier said, as chivalrous as he could around a mouthful of her rose perfume. “I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to be introduced.”

“Oooh,” she giggled, “You’re sweet, I’m Dame Au’Vigne, and I can see by your card that you are the Viscount de Lettenhove, I knew your father.”

Yes, Jaskier thought. I remember, he turned down your proposal. Jaskier had been a lad then, barely eight years old, but he remembered through a child’s eyes a mountain of lace and perfume who had offered to marry his father while actually at his mother’s funeral.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said. Heinous bitch, he thought. He remembered rumors too, which are always a bard’s stock and trade, that Dame Au’Vigne’s husbands were always wealthy, usually handsome, and all of them had shockingly short lifespans.

Rumor also had it that she was backing Nilfgaard financially and had been playing the shipping stock with insider knowledge of their movements. A very good person to be seated next to tonight.

“May I introduce my fiance, Ludomir of Rivia,” Jaskier said, gesturing to Geralt. Geralt nodded and hummed, somewhat politely.

“How handsome,” Dame Au’Vigne stage whispered. “Where ever did you find him?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jaskier said.

The lord of the castle stood up and gave a droning speech. It was full of euphemisms about ‘upholding standards’ and ‘fostering strong relations’ that boiled down to ‘I’m an untrustworthy bastard who believes that allowing the deaths of my people en masse is fine so long as I make money.’ It was depressing, too, as Jaskier looked around the ballroom to see so many people nodding in agreement.

Traitors and bastards, the lot of them.

Geralt’s face hadn’t changed even an inch.

“So,” Dame Au’Vigne said as the appetizer course was served. “You two aren’t exactly in a honeymoon phase, are you?”

And she was right, for a couple, newly engaged, Jaskier and Geralt hadn’t acted the part yet at all.

“I’m afraid,” Jaskier said, inventing wildly. “That we’re both just a touch nervous, the engagement is so new, you see, and this is our first event,” he took Geralt’s hand, above the table, so Dame Au’Vigne could see. “As a couple.”

“Oh how sweet,” she said airily. “You know, they’ll have dancing between the courses, it’ll be a great way for you to wet your social feet. Sir Erdin and the lady in the lavender dress,” she pointed across the ballroom. “They’re newly engaged as well.” She lowered her voice.

“Sir Erdin is very supportive of the cause, word has it he’s in with the very inner circle,” Dame Au’Vigne giggled, as if being in the inner circle of a murderous group of intruders was as delightful as a recent engagement.

“How interesting!” Jaskier said, affecting a jealous and impressed tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geralt’s eyebrow twitch, the way it did when he was listening hard.

“Oh yes,” Dame Au’Vigne said. “And Lord Snapcase, in the corner, he...” and she went on, was the marvelous thing, she couldn’t seem to help herself but gossip about everyone. And she had all these details about how they were helping ‘the cause’. Destiny must have finally decided to throw Jaskier and Geralt a bone.

Then the appetizer course was finished and Jaskier felt much less lucky. Dame Au’Vigne was ushering him and Geralt out of their seats to dance. It wasn’t one of the quick, hopping around, switching partners dances either. No, the band seemed insistent on only slow, romantic music.

Awkwardly, Geralt slid one large hand around Jaskier’s waist and they turned in slow circles on the dance floor. The witcher’s face looked like a thunderclap.

“Try and look like you’re having fun, darling,” Jaskier said. Please don’t look at me as though holding me is torture, his inner self begged.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Jaskier leaned in.

“Really dear heart,” he leaned in even closer, lips almost touching Geralt’s ear. “People are going to suspect something,” he said in the barest of whispers.

“Let them,” Geralt hissed back in the same fashion. “We’ve got the information, we can leave.”

Jaskier, keeping up appearances, tossed his head back and let out a delighted shriek of laughter, as if Geralt had just told him a joke or, perhaps, made a wonderfully indecent proposal.

“Later, perhaps,” he said, stage-whispering for the sake of those around them. Leaning in again he whispered for real, “We can’t leave until the party’s over, no one else will, they’d send some of those soldiers after us for sure.”

The music changed, and Geralt and Jaskier’s slow circles changed speed with it.

Geralt hissed in his ear again, “I don’t see why I had to be your,” this close Jaskier could see Geralt’s jaw working with distaste. “Lover.”

“Fiance,” Jaskier said, trying not to let his heart sink. It couldn’t possibly go any lower. “There’s a difference.”

They said no more to each other, and after the second dance, declined the third to sit back at their seats and await the arrival of the soup course.

The man sat beside Geralt was some old military man, mostly mustache and the rest of him was a rather musty and very old fashioned uniform. It had gold braid and a colonel’s insignia. The hat that sat next to his chair had a plume.

He leaned over to Geralt and said, rather loudly, in a voice that implied tone deafness, to both volume and social situations, “Just marrying him for the money, eh?”

People to both sides of Jaskier and Geralt looked around. Dame Au’Vigne looked at them askance.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. It was a negative answer to the colonel’s question, but the man didn’t take it as such.

“Often is the way,” the man nearly bellowed. “My missus hated me right up to the day she died.”

Jaskier curled in on himself. The role of Viscount wasn’t a big one, mostly administrative and, these days, completed by his sister Rowena, who was better at sitting behind a desk. Still, argued a battered part of his long ago but still proper upbringing. The name of Pankratz was being dragged through the mud. Lots of these people would know the name too, these sour, vindictive, unpleasant, murderous people. And they’d know the gossip, would have taken part in the gossip about ‘Young Julian running off to be a bard,’ (this generally said with the same tone as is usually leant to slave trader) and how ‘he’ll never find a good marriage now,’ how he was ‘a disgrace to the name.’

And here was their long awaited confirmation. Jaskier-Julian, couldn’t find a good marriage, was being wed only for his money. Of course, more than half the pairings here were only in it for the money, but to have it said, so loudly too, and before the wedding had even happened, it was social condemnation.

Jaskier looked down at the table cloth, his face hot. He’d faced social condemnation before, of course, he’d survive. What hurt was that Geralt wasn’t really protesting, Geralt couldn’t even pretend to like Jaskier, not for a single evening. Twenty years he’d done a good enough job of acting to convince even Jaskier, mostly, apart from the punches and the insults and...maybe Jaskier had been a little blind to the truth but still.

It was ruining their cover though, so he protested quietly. “Not just for the money,” he said, patting Geralt’s hand where one fist wrapped around his goblet. “My fiance is just shy, that’s all.”

The damage was already done, but the old colonel hiccupped. “Well lad,” he said, giving Geralt a slap on the back. “This ale’s pretty good so drink up. Got me through three years of happy marriage, strong ale did.” The man took a slug of his own drink. “And fourty seven more unhappy years.” He guffawed hugely and unpleasantly, little drops of ale flinging from his mustache.

Wherever the soul of the unpleasant man’s dead wife was, Jaskier felt sure she was happy to be away from this miserable old drunk.

Geralt, however, was looking at Jaskier. Their eyes met. Jaskier knew he probably looked as hunted as he felt, and his cheeks were probably still burning from the embarassment. Still, it seemed as though Geralt was about to say something. His golden eyes were full of emotion, but Jaskier couldn’t parse out what kind.

Whatever kind it was, it caused Geralt to take the colonel’s advice and drink like there was no tomorrow.

Great. Jaskier had driven his companion to drinking.

He felt a little like doing so himself.

The soup course was good, hot and savory, but underspiced. Geralt slurped it up gratefully. Jaskier knew that rich food was usually too much for his senses if it was spiced to Jaskier’s taste.

More dancing. Jaskier didn’t stand, at first, assuming that Geralt would rather sit and drink more. There were some snickers as people judged him. Geralt stood though, and he offered a hand and led Jaskier to the dance floor.

“You need to act drunk,” Jaskier whispered in his ear. “If you were a normal man you would be.”

“I am acting,” Geralt rumbled.

“You’re very steady for a drunk,” Jaskier sniffed.

“You said I was shy, now I’m less shy,” Geralt whispered. “And I’ve been drinking. So...drunk.” It was torture, being held like this, having that voice in Jaskier’s ear. That hand, so warm cupping his own. He wanted to cry.

A couple whirled past them. It was the Dame Au’Vigne, gossiping to some new dance partner. A snippet of her words caught them.

“-de Lettenhove. Entirely loveless of course. Unlovable, his father said once, of course as a bard-” then the tide of conversation and other dancers stole the rest of the words.

Jaskier sagged. His father hadn’t been a nice man, and unlovable wasn’t the worst of what he’d been called in his life, but now, with Geralt so close and so disgusted by the prospect...well, it hit a little close to home.

“Laugh,” Geralt whispered in his ear.

“What?” Jaskier hissed.

“Like before, laugh like before, but...more so. Pretend I said a dirty joke.”

Jaskier did, heads turned as he pretended to laugh, half scandalized and half delighted at something Geralt said.

Geralt even chuckled along with him. Then his hand crept down Jaskier’s back to his hip. It wasn’t dirty. It was just so,so spine tinglingly close to dirty.

It was almost worse. If Geralt had gripped his ass that would have been bad, but this, Jaskier was left to speculate. He had a very active imagination. The couples next to them were giggling and tittering, scandalized, but not too much, at the pair.

They danced all three dances. During the second dance Geralt spun Jaskier out and then back in flashily, dipping him over one arm like a dainty maiden. Jaskier, who was no dainty maiden, knew the strength that elaborate dip must have taken and his head spun. The third dance was slow, and once again they simply held one another and turned in slow circles. Except Geralt pressed their cheeks together in a way that was so intimate that Jaskier finally gave in. Just tonight he had Geralt, all of him, his attention, his warmth.

There was only so much a bard could take, and Jaskier gave in to the fantasy.

“I wonder how Yennefer is,” Geralt whispered. “And Ciri.”

It was like having cold water poured all over him. Jaskier’s fantasy shattered as soon as it had formed. Of course Geralt wasn’t enjoying this, of course his mind was elsewhere. He had a beautiful sorceress to think of, even if they weren’t sleeping together. Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri made the perfect, happy family. Where did Jaskier fit in to that?

He pulled back a little, already missing the warmth of Geralt’s cheek against his own. They finished the dance stiffly.

Back at the table, squished between Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, the main course was awful. Jaskier couldn’t judge it on the food, which he barely tasted. Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, however, had apparently come to the conclusion that Geralt or, Ludomir, rather, was marrying Jaskier for the money and the sex. They tittered, loudly and drunkely, to those around, and Geralt leaned in.

“Surely we can leave after this course,” he whispered.

Desperate to be rid of the charade, Jaskier thought. To not have to be engaged to me. “Can’t,” he whispered. “Have to stay for dessert and more dancing, else it looks suspect.”

“Hmmm.” It was a displeased hum.

“And, there will be small talk, with dessert. You need to say something, people will think you’re mute.”

“You two twitter into one another’s ears all the time,” Dame Au’Vigne said loudly. She was fully drunk off the sherry and very loud. “But not one kiss,” she lowered her voice, as if trying to be discreet. It didn’t work. “Is it truly as loveless as they say? I know you aren’t waiting until marriage.”

As who say? Jaskier thought. The only person quite that invested seems to be you.

“Not loveless,” Jaskier said. It seemed weak even to his ears.

“Surely you’ll join the dancing again, then,” Dame Au’Vigne said.

“No,” Jaskier said, fiddling with his napkin. “I’m feeling quite too full to dance, ate too fast, I’m afraid.” He hoped she was too drunk to notice he’d picked at his plate. It seemed she was.

“Lovely little veranda, get some air there,” said a man who, according to Dame Au’Vigne, was shipping weapons to Nilfgaard behind the backs of multiple heads of state.

Jaskier nodded,stood, bowed, and made his escape. He sighed, but wasn’t surprised to find that Geralt had followed along behind. Of course he wanted to escape the party too, but Jaskier wanted to escape...him.

To his shame and surprise, he found tears in his eyes. The pressure of sitting in a room chock full of people who wanted to kill him, combined with the fact that every last one of them reminded him of being bullied in school, and add to that that he was supposed to be fake engaged to Geralt...it was too much. Fake engaged and even in their fake engagement Geralt didn’t like Jaskier.

Jaskier’s rational brain knew that Geralt did like him, mostly. He just didn’t love him.

Jaskier leaned his elbows on the railing, overlooking some moonlit gardens, and felt the tears roll down his face.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said quietly.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. He knew Geralt could smell the salt of his tears or whatever, but still turned his face away so the witcher couldn’t see.

“I danced with you though.”

Jaskier chuckled wetly. “Nobles dance with people they hate all the time.”

Geralt was quiet for a minute then, very gently, he took one of Jaskier’s hands. “I don’t hate you.”

It was too much, Jaskier started crying in earnest, sobbing.

“C’mon, Jaskier, I like you. A lot.” Geralt was, for him, panicking clearly. Jaskier almost smiled. He was so bad at dealing with other people’s emotion. And his own.

“You’re my friend,” Geralt said, a little stuntedly. “You know I’m not a good liar.”

Too much. Twenty-two years and he finally said the word ‘friends’ and Jaskier wanted more. He whipped around to face Geralt.

“Tell me the truth, then, Geralt. Tell me you love me, it doesn’t have to be the truth for forever, but can you love me just for a night? Can you make it the truth for tonight?” Jaskier’s tears were ugly and blobby and drying up fast but he continued.

“Because I’ve loved you so long I don’t know any other truth,” He leaned forward and planted his forhead on Geralt’s collarbone and sniffled through the last of his tears, curling one, shaking fist into Geralt’s lovely pale cape as he cried. “Just this one night, Geralt, love me back.”

He hadn’t meant to say any of it, was half expecting Geralt to toss him off the low balcony into the bushes below.

Instead Jaskier was lifted by two strong arms and sat down on the railing. Warm, delightful lips pressed against his and suddenly he was being kissed within an inch of his life.

“The truth, you want,” Geralt said, pulling back and panting. “Is the only one I can give. I can’t pretend to love you.” Here Geralt looked into Jaskier’s eyes, like being struck by lightning. “I only love you, no pretending, I swear it.”

“But-” Jaskier was cut off.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said, furiously. “I think you think I don’t like you, Jaskier I like you, I love you so much I don’t know what to do and I’m...I’m not good with words. Or emotions.” Geralt’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just am, and the way I am is... The way I am is better with you.”

Geralt’s face screwed up with anguish. “And I’m the reason you think I don’t like you, it’s my fault and that feels so...so bad. Yennefer’s been working with me on the feelings thing and always says ‘bad isn’t a feeling’ but I can’t tell you what all the feeling is.”

Jaskier was staring, mouth open, as frustrated, stilted, fumbling words left Geralt’s mouth. They sounded angry, but only at himself. Geralt was looking up at him as if seeking benediction.

“Tell me you love me again,” Jaskier said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Jaskier giggled as Geralt lifted him and spun him around before tucking him in close and kissing his forehead.

“I,” he said.

A kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “Love.”

A deep, breathtaking kiss to his lips. “You.”

There was nothing left for Jaskier to say except, “wow.”

Geralt smiled, that lovely warm little smile he saved for special times and offered his arm to Jaskier. “Shall we?”

They paraded back into the ballroom and danced the final dance of the set. Geralt whispered a suggestion of what he’d really like for dessert and this time Jaskier didn’t have to fake the scandalized giggle. “Back home, perhaps,” he said.

Dessert meant more conversation with Dame Au’Vigne, which was of course unbearable. There was plenty of Champagne though, which was pretty good, and the bubbles seemed to fill Jaskier all the way up. He took pleasure in picturing the downfall of all these horrible people when Nilfgaard was finally defeated for good.

He especially enjoyed sticking it to her gossip when he fed Geralt a strawberry with cream from his fingertips and recieved a kiss in thanks. Geralt was clearly enjoying himself too. He had a sweet tooth, and that certainly helped, but his hand that never left Jaskier’s under the table was a much better clue.

They walked back to the inn, flushed and warm in the cool night air, bidding farewell to the other drunken lords and ladies all filtering to finer inns or grand coaches.

Then they were alone on their path back, Geralt’s witcher senses confirming their isolation. Then, Geralt, who never told lies, whispered sweet nothings into Jaskier’s ear the entire way home. Jaskier believed every single one.

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It’s done, this one’s quite long and I loved writing it. Geralt is useless at playing pretend, but very good at loving Jaskier in his own way. I imagine his emotion lessons with Yennefer must have been rather intense.

#the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fake dating #getting together #fluff #fluff and angst #tiny amount of horniness #read with caution

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nhlandotherimagines · 3 years

Text

Since When? -Matthew Tkachuk X Fem!Reader

This is approximately 11.2k words of a friends-to-lovers rollercoaster of emotions! I hope you all enjoy! I hope you all enjoy it! @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 @puckbitchesgetmoney @glassdanse @suzukick

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of nudity, implied sexual acts, angst, negative self talk, “unrequited” love, drinking, also some fluff as well. Please let me know if I missed anything!

In case you don’t know: Y/n: your name, Y/l/n: your last name, and Y/n/n: your nickname (can be replaced with your name if you do not have a nickname of course)

flashbacks are in italics :)

———

“Y/n, this is Macy. Macy, this is Y/n.” Matthew introduces you to the blonde girl he’s been talking about for weeks. She is so much prettier than you could have ever imagined. Beautiful blonde hair, flawless tanned skin, and her legs went on for miles. You shake the thoughts from your head a large grin taking over your own face.

“Oh how formal of you Matthew,” you say mockingly. “Please call me Y/n/n, and despite how Matty here is acting you have no reasons to be nervous. He talks about you all the time, I like you already!” You beam with a wink. Matt’s ears and neck burn red in embarrassment, as you and Macy giggle.

“I could say the same about you y/n/n!” Your stomach twists a little at that, what could Matthew possibly have told her? You and him have been friends for years. Best friends. You live across the hall from him now. When you moved to Calgary he insisted you moved into his apartment, but you know he would never take a girl home with you around all the time. If you are being truly honest with yourself, it has more to do with the fact that you don’t want to think about Matthew with other girls.

Yet here you are, standing in front of his new girlfriend, who could be supermodel. “Would you like to get a drink Macy? Let Matthew go talk boring old sports stuff with his jock friends.” Macy giggles at your request, but agrees quickly placing a kiss on Matthew’s cheek.

————

“Thank you for this. Matt’s been really weird about me meeting you, and I was worried you were going to hate me.” Macy’s smile falters a little when she says this, causing you to choke a little on your drink.

“Wow! He must have made me seem like a total bitch! Sounds like him really. I guess he knows I want whoever he’s with to be perfect for him, but he doesn’t understand that as long as he’s happy and that girl isn’t just a gold digger than I’m happy too.” You knock her shoulder playfully with yours, “He seems very happy with you, and for the record I think you’re really cool.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before Macy speaks again. “So how did you and Matt become friends?”

“It’s a long story, are you sure you want to hear it?” You chuckle, as she nods excitedly.

“Y/n l/n?” The teacher reads out your name.

“Present!” You beam from your spot at the front of the class hand in the air. You hear a few chuckles from behind you, and lower your hand slowly slumping into your chair.

“Matthew Tkachuk?” The teacher continues, after giving you a sympathetic smile.

“That would be me!” His voice causes your eyes to snap to the door. He’s beautiful and chaotic. Bright blue eyes, messy curls, a little smirk, and a cute little dimple to tie it all together.

“Mr. Tkachuk, being late on the first day isn’t the best first impression. Please don’t make a habit of it.” The teacher scolds lightly.

“Sorry, I won’t.” He smiles sheepishly, as he places his backpack on the chair beside yours. “Okay if I sit here?” He looks at you expectantly.

Unable to find your words you nod. He sits down, and smiles at you. “I’m Matthew.” He adds sticking his hand out for you. You take it, face burning red.

“Uh- I’m y/n.” You stutter out. More snickers coming from the seats behind you. Immediately you pull your hand away and stare down at your lap, tears burning your eyes. It was your first day of highschool, and already you weren’t fitting in.

“Well y/n, can I call you y/n/n?” He asks quickly, but doesn’t bother to wait for a response, “Want to eat lunch with me? It being the first day and all I’m trying to make friends. What do you say?”

“Okay.” You reply, and smile up at him. No longer feeling as shy.

So you did eat lunch together that day. And every day after that. You became best friends almost immediately. After a couple weeks, you met his family and fit in well with all of them. Matthew fit just as perfectly in your life. You studied together, you went and watched his games, you did everything together.

It was so easy to be with Matthew, so when he got drafted to the Flames your decision was easy. You immediately applied to the University of Calgary.

“And we’ve been friends forever it feels like.” You smile at her.

“So you guys dated in highschool?” She asks, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull at that.

“No way! Matt and I are only friends, that’s all we’ve ever been, and we are both VERY okay with that.” You cringe to yourself at how awkward you sound, trying to convince her what you were saying was true. And it mostly was, aside from the fact that part of you wanted more, and still do.

“Seriously? Not even like one date?” You shake your head, “not one awkward game of spin the bottle?” Again you shake your head, “not even a drunk hookup?” At that you laugh, and take another swig of your drink.

“I’m being honest Macy. The closest to any of that Matt and I ever had was my seventeenth birthday.” You shudder at the memory, “Neither of us enjoyed that.”

Macy’s face lit up at that. “Well now you have to tell me!”

You are standing in front of your bedroom mirror getting ready for your birthday party. People would be showing up in about an hour, your mom is in the kitchen finishing the cake, your dad cleaning the barbecue, your siblings at friends houses, and here you are standing mostly naked in front of the mirror. Admiring the brand new navy blue lingerie set you just bought, your very first set. You feel really sexy, for the first time ever, which at seventeen is a big deal.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been standing there, when the door opens, but you are too zoned out to even notice as you run your fingers along the lace resting on your hips. “Oh fuck!”

As soon as you hear his voice you turn towards the door and do your best to cover your exposed body.

“MATTHEW JESUS CHRIST GET OUT!” You scream at him, tears blurring your vision. He mutters an apology as he quickly exits your room.

You cry for awhile, the embarrassment making you not want to get off your floor. However, you do eventually, and change into the dress your mother bought specifically for your party. It was black, and much more mature than your mother would have ever let you wear before, or maybe it’s because you yourself look more mature. Who knows? All you know is that you don’t want to face Matthew.

It turns out that you don’t have to. Matthew doesn’t show up for the party. Brady does though, telling you he isn’t sure what happened, but Matthew isn’t feeling well. You know why though. He was repulsed.

You cry yourself to sleep after everyone leaves. Even going as far as throwing out the set of lingerie, unable to look at it anymore.

You thought you lost him that day. Thankfully though, the following Monday it was like nothing happened. Neither of you bring it up again.

“Wow! He never mentioned it?” She laughs in astonishment.

“Not once! I think he’s forgotten really. It’s not like there was really much to see anyway.” You go back and forth like that all night, sharing stories, buying each other drinks, dancing together. It is perfect.

Across the bar Matthew smiles to himself, watching the two of you getting along so well.

“Dude I told you they’d get along!” Noah Hanifin says slapping a hand over Matthew’s shoulder. He doesn’t hear him come over to where he stood leaning against the bar watching you and Macy dancing together, so it startled him at first.

“I knew they probably would, it’s just if they didn’t,” Matthew stops for a moment staring down at his drink. “I wouldn’t be able to choose.”

“Why would you have to choose?” Noah doesn’t get it, and Matthew isn’t sure the answer really.

“Every time I’ve been seeing a girl they always get weird once they finally meet y/n. Most of them just can’t handle the fact I’m so close to a girl.” He shrugs, and Noah sends him a knowing smile.

“So you’ve never told me, were the two of you ever a thing?” Noah asks, taking a drink of the beer in his hand.

Matthew throws his head back laughing loudly. “Seriously Hanifin? You’ve met the two of us right? We have been friends forever. Nothing else.”

“You’ve never even just hooked up? I don’t know, you two just fit so well together I assumed you would have tried it out at least once.” Noah shrugs.

“No way!” Matthew chuckles awkwardly, wanting the conversation to end.

As the two friends lean against the bar in silence, his eyes fall on you. You’re wearing a cute little black dress similar to the one you’d worn the day he thought he’d lost you.

It is your birthday, and Matthew can’t wait to give you the present he bought you weeks ago. It is a miracle he kept it a secret this long. Sure your party isn’t for another hour or so, but he can at least help everyone get ready. That way he can give you your present sooner, and without the prying eyes of your mutual friends.

So here he was walking up to your front door, the little velvet box tucked inside his backpack. Inside it a beautiful gold necklace, the pendant a simple letter ‘M’. Sure, maybe it was cheesy, but you love cheesy. As for Matthew he loves seeing you happy, and he loves you.

“Hey Matthew honey! Y/n is in her room.” Your mother greets him as he comes through the front door. He exchanges a quick hello and starts up the stairs to your room.

Matthew takes a shaky breath, trying to steady his breathing. His heart is racing, why is he so nervous? He tries to convince himself it is just because he wants you to like the gift and not because he has feelings for you. When he finally pushes open your door though, all of the air he had just tried to hold onto, leaves his body immediately. There you are. Standing in front of your mirror, back to him. Your hair curled loosely, and wearing nothing but a set of navy blue lingerie. Matthew is frozen, unable to speak. His eyes rake over your body, even though he knows it is wrong. You look good. So good in fact, Matthew’s pants have tightened considerably since he stepped through your door.

“Oh fuck!” He groans, eyes widening as he finally realizes the gravity of the situation. He watches you spin around, horror and embarrassment clear on your face.

“MATTHEW JESUS CHRIST GET OUT!” You yell, you sound so angry to Matthew. He is immediately embarrassed. Embarrassed to be caught, but mostly embarrassed by the affect you have on him.

Matthew runs home. He pleads with Brady to just put his name on the gift he is bringing, and to let you know he isn’t feeling well. The truth is, he doesn’t feel well. He is scared. Scared everything has to change. The two of you don’t talk all weekend, but maybe Matthew stalks your Instagram to make sure you have a good birthday.

However, the following Monday the two of you fall back into your normal routine. The incident is never brought up again, aside from in Matthew’s dreams that is.

Matthew shakes his head, trying to physically rid it of the memory. He smiles sadly down at his drink knowing that the necklace he bought you that year now sits safely in a box on the top shelf of his closet. He never got to give it to you.

“What ‘cha thinkin’ ‘bout space cadet?” You grin up at him. He smiles back at you, and throws his arm around your shoulder. Subconsciously he scans the room for Macy. “Chill out Matty she’s in the bathroom. You looking to dip on me already? I mean how can I blame you? If I got to go home with someone THAT hot I’d be leaving as soon as I could.”

“I’m not trying to dip!” He shoots back in defence.

“Okay! Okay! Cool it Chucky! I’m just teasing. I like her a lot! Why were you so worried?” You wrap an arm around his waist as he pulls you tighter into his side.

“Dunno. I guess your opinion is kind of important to me. Wouldn’t wanna displease my sidekick.” He smirks down at you.

“Oh please! If anyone is the sidekick here it’s you Tkachuk! Know your place.” You tease, as Macy finds her way over to the two of you. “He’s getting on my nerves! He’s your problem now. Have fun lovebirds!” You wink at them as you slip away. You need another drink, something hard. You also need someone to take home tonight. So you wouldn’t have to think about Matthew and Macy.

You like her. She is perfect for him, and she makes him happy. That’s what you want. It doesn’t mean you don’t wish it was you.

————

The next morning Matthew makes his way back to his own apartment. He had spent the night at Macy’s, but decides to get home early as his parents and siblings are going to be in town later in the day. When he turns down the hall, he notices the guy leaning against your doorframe. He can’t see you, but he can hear your laugh. “I’ll see you later yeah?” Nathan says leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

“Um sure. Yeah.” You immediately start beating yourself up internally for how awkward that sounded. Sure Nathan is sweet, and last night was great! He just doesn’t feel right.

You say your final goodbyes, and promise to text him later before you close your door. Little do you know, your best friend is waiting in the hallway to greet your new friend. “Fun night fella?” Matthew smirks at him.

His eyes go wide as he realized who exactly it is standing in front of him. Matthew’s ego inflates significantly at how terrified this guy seems. “Uh yeah it was alright.” Nathan manages to stammer out.

“She’s something isn’t she? I’m Matthew.” Matt sticks his hand out for the stranger.

“Nathan, and uh yeah she’s great.” The two continue awkward small talk for a couple seconds longer before Matthew lets himself into your apartment.

“So Michael huh?” Matthew grins over at you. You roll your eyes, taking a long drink of your coffee from where you stand leaning against the counter.

“It’s Nathan, but you knew that smart ass. What about him?” You challenge, slightly annoyed that he had to show up and give you a hard time. Matthew just shrugs walking over to you, pushing himself up onto the counter beside you.

“He just doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Matty, how the hell would you even know what my type is?” You cross your arms glaring at him.

“He’s skinny, and he is definitely vanilla as all hell. Sure those aren’t bad things, but you and I both know you want a strong man to be in control. Only in the bedroom of course.” He adds with a wink. Your cheeks flame in response, shoving him. He’s exactly right. Nathan was a little scrawny, and not overly confident in the bedroom. Sure he was great, but he wasn’t Matthew. You curse yourself for even thinking about your friend that way. Your best friend that’s all he is.

“Matthew, get out of my apartment. Your family will be here soon, and I need to get ready to see my favourite Tkachuk.” You tease back. He rolls his eyes, but says nothing as he slips from the counter making his way out of your apartment.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the door shuts behind him. You need to start distancing yourself from him before things get out of hand.

————

“Y/N!!!” Brady gathers you up in a hug before you even have the chance to close Matthew’s door.

“Hey Brady” you giggle into his hair. He sets you down after giving you a quick spin, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.

“How’ve you been bug?” He asks, throwing an arm over your shoulder after you finally shut the door. Him and Matthew have called you the dumb nickname for a long time, and at this point it hardly bothers you. You and Brady were always really close, but it was never the same as you and Matthew. He was more like a brother for you, one you annoy, share all your secrets with (especially if they involved boys), and also gave him a hard time. With Matthew, sure you annoy each other, and share secrets, but you and Matthew were a team. Inseparable. It doesn’t make sense, even to you, but you did love them both.

“Not too bad, trying to keep Mr. Hotshot in check. The usual. Though I’ve had some help recently, so honestly I’ve been a little bored.” You quip loud enough for Matthew to hear. Judging by the look on Matthews face though, he hadn’t missed any of the interaction.

“Oh get a room already would you!” He grumbles rolling his eyes and walking away. You and Brady share a look, and he shrugs to signal he’s just as confused as you.

Brady leads you to the couch, and you sit down. The two of you already deep in conversation, catching up on your lives. Taryn finds her way to the couch soon after joining in on your conversation. “So what’s she like?” Taryn asks after awhile.

“Macy?” You ask, and the two siblings nod at you expectantly. “She’s really great! She’s kind, smart, and not to mention a total bombshell! She is perfect for Matthew, I’m happy for them.” Brady just looks at you with a sad smile.

You want to tell him that it’s the truth, that you actually love her to death. Something stops you though, you’re not sure why, but you stay quiet.

Soon after Macy knocks on the door. Matthew runs to answer it before either of his siblings can even react. When you see her, your heart nearly stops. Once again you are in awe of just how beautiful she is. You stay rooted in your spot on the couch as the Tkachuk family takes turns fawning over her. For the first time ever, you felt out of place. You’ve spent the better part of a decade being that girl, the one the whole family raves about. The family chirping Matthew about what a miracle it was you stuck around. Sure it got old fast, but you loved it. Now you can’t help the jealousy that spreads it’s roots through your heart.

After the dinner, if you could even call delivered Chinese food that, you pull Matthew aside after the others make their way to the living room. “Hey Matt, I’m gonna head home I’m kinda tired.”

“String bean do that much damage Y/n/n?” He smirks down at you, and your face twists a little unable to find the humour in his friendly chirp. Matthew’s smirk quickly falls from his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah ‘m fine Matty. I’m just gonna go okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow yeah? Tell everyone I’m glad I got to see them.” You muster a small smile as you turn towards the door. “You’re not gonna say bye yourself?”

“They’re having fun Matt.” You send him a better smile at that, trying to let him know everything is okay. You feel far from okay though, and you can’t even explain why. “And you should be too! Now get in there before Brady talks Macy into finding someone better!” You give him a playful shove towards the chatter in the living room. Thankfully Matthew chuckles at that, and let’s you go.

He watches you closely as you leave, and he feels guilty. Running through his mind everything that might have made you want to leave. Was it Brady? Was it him?

God it was killing him, and that was evident on his face as he walks into the living room. Brady catching his eye as soon as he did, noticing the frown that Matthew quickly covers with a smile. “Y/n told me to let you know she was heading home for the night, and she was so happy to see you all. Except Brady of course.”

“Awe well I wish you let us know before she left Matt, we hardly see that girl anymore.” Chantal spoke, but Matthew barely heard her. All he could focus on was the glare Brady was sending him. Matthew just shrugs at his brother, his form of silent communication to let Brady know he doesn’t know what he was upset about. Brady responded with his own silent gesture, a head nod in the direction of the kitchen.

As he peels himself from the chair he was seated in, Brady makes his way silently to the kitchen. Matthew follows, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly once the two brothers are finally alone. “Why did she really leave? What did you say to her?” Brady was quick to jump on Matthew with questions, that if he were honest, Matthew was not expecting.

“What the fuck are you talking about? She was tired so she went home.” Matthew throws back, already angry his brother assumes it was his fault.

“It’s Y/n we are talking about! That girl has been around for years, I’ve seen her pass out at our kitchen table on family game night. She’d sooner fall asleep on the couch and spend as much time with us as she could than to just leave. And without saying good bye? Seriously dude what the hell did you say?” Brady was trying to keep his voice down, but he was upset. You were his friend too.

“Nothing! And how could I? She spent all night talking to you! She’s probably just going home to sleep with that idiot Nathan anyway.” Matthew grumbles. Brady freezes at his brothers statement. “Nathan?”

“Yeah some guy she took home from the bar last night.” Matthew explains like it was common knowledge, “he seems like an idiot.”

“Matt are you jealous?” Brady asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. Matthew rolls his eyes and groans out loud. “Brady are you stupid? No wait don’t answer that, you are. Y/n is my best friend. She can sleep with whoever she wants whenever she wants. I have a girlfriend.” Matthew’s fists clench at his sides, and Brady’s eyes flicker down to them briefly.

“Well the two of you need to figure your shit out.” Brady adds, turning on his heels and heading back to his spot in the living room. Matthew unclenches his fists, and takes a deep breath before joining the rest of his family again.

———

You sit on your bed, legs tucked under you, leaning back against the headboard. You press Brady’s contact, and watch as the phone rings. You didn’t FaceTime Brady often, but this was necessary. “What’s up bug?” Brady’s smile immediately makes you feel less anxious.

“Well it’s kind of a long story, I’ve been seeing this guy for a couple months now. He’s great, but I don’t really know how to introduce him to Matt without him being weird about it.” You chew your bottom lip anxiously, cheeks warm with embarrassment. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud. Brady’s laughing pulls you out of your spiral. “What’s so funny? Brady I’m serious Matthew makes everything so awkward!”

Finally Brady manages to catch his breath. “Y/n I had basically this exact same conversation about four months ago with Matt. You two are literally impossible! You’re best friends, you just want each other to be happy. As for Nathan-“

“How do you know his name? I never told you that?” Your dumbfounded expression has Brady in hysterics once again. “Matthew.” You groan, finally having pieced it all together. You mumble something about having to go before you end the conversation with Brady. You pull on an old hoodie of Matthew’s that’s slightly too big for you, and quickly make your way to Matthew’s apartment.

You let yourself in, like you always have. Instead of being met by Matt playing video games like you expected, you’re met with a much more horrifying image. Matt has Macy pinned to the couch, and let’s just say they aren’t having a wrestling match. The noise of shock that escapes you alerts the couple of your presence. “Y/n!” Matthew exclaimes quickly crawling off of Macy. He grabs the nearest throw pillow covering his junk with it awkwardly.

After far too long of gaping at the couple you manage to snap out of it, turning back to head for the door again. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t- oh Jesus! Pretend I was never here I’m sorry!” You’re out of his apartment in record time. Collapsing just inside your apartment door, tears stinging your eyes. The embarrassment was overwhelming, how were you supposed to face either of them ever again?

———

“Well fuck!” Matthew groans after the door slams shut behind you. Macy starts giggling from her place on the couch, and Matthew sends her a glare.

“Oh loosen up tough guy! At least you’re even now!” She shoots back wiggling her eyebrows at him. Matthew stands frozen in his place. “What are you talking about?”

“Her 17th birthday Matthew, do you actually not remember that?” Macy let’s out an awkward laugh, as she watches the pain on Matt’s face. “She told you that?” Matthew is angry, and he knows he shouldn’t be. Why would you tell his girlfriend about that when you have never even talked to him about it? He’s your best friend.

Macy just nods, slightly scared to actually admit it out loud. Matthew lets out a small ‘oh.’ before leaving the room. He emerges a few minutes later fully clothed to find Macy gathering her things to leave.

“I’m sorry you don’t have to leave.” Matthew mumbles, but he only half means it. Sure he doesn’t want her to leave, but he needs to talk to you. Needs to make this right.

“Go talk to her Matty, seriously. Figure it out, I’m not sure why it made you so upset that she just walked in here. What did you expect? She always does. Set some boundaries maybe? You’re a grown man Matthew, it’s not my job to play the parent and fix whatever is happening here.” Macy huffs, slamming the door just as hard as you had not long before. Why was everyone so upset with him? First Brady, then you, now Macy too? What was he doing wrong? And why did the get so upset about Macy bringing up your 17th birthday?

Matthew tries not to get caught up in his mind too long. Instead he roots through his closet shelves looking for your birthday present. Sure maybe it was 6 years late, but how else could he make up for the awkward night?

———

You are laying on your living room floor when Matthew lets himself into your apartment. “What are you doing on the floor?” Matthew chuckles, leaning against the wall closest to you.

“‘M not sure.” You mumble, unable to look at him. Instead you study a paint chip directly above you. You hear Matthew set something down before he pushes your coffee table a few feet away. He then drops himself next to you rather ungracefully, tucking an arm behind his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock.” You say quietly, so quietly in fact Matthew almost doesn’t hear it. He does though and he turns his head to face you.

You turn towards him, taking in his features for the first time since he entered your apartment. The sad smile on his face knocks the wind out of you for a moment, as you get lost in his blue eyes. “When have you and I ever knocked? I should’ve put a sock on the door handle.” He chirps back, sealing it with a wink. You laugh lightly at his comment, and turn your gaze back to the paint chip.

The two of you stay like that for awhile. Staring at a paint chip, in total silence. Your thoughts consuming you, as the tension seems to grow thicker by the second. You’re not sure how long passed before Matthew breaks the silence, but it was long enough that it startled you when he does. “At least we are even now. Though I’m pretty sure you got to see a lot more than I did.”

Lifting yourself up onto your forearms you turn to him again, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I thought you’d forgotten. Or maybe you just didn’t want to talk about it with me because you were so angry. I just can’t believe you talked about it with Macy and not me.” He rambles on, but now it was him refusing to look at you. He looks hurt, and your mind races trying to put the pieces together. Then it hits you.

“My birthday.” You say, more to yourself than Matthew, but he nods finally meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry Matt, I just thought if I told her that story it would ease her mind about us. I was too scared to bring it up to you, and then so much time had passed it felt wrong to even talk about it.” Your confession causes Matthew to look even more confused. “Ease her mind? How would that story ease her mind?”

So you tell him. You tell him about how, like everyone else who has met the two of you, Macy assumed something had happened between you. A kiss. A relationship. A hookup. Something. “So I told her the story so she’d understand that even at 17 you were appalled by the sight of me, and how embarrassed I had been. And I told her that was our one and only ‘intimate’ experience.” You make sure to throw air quotes around the term intimate. Your explanation however, did not seem to make Matthew feel better.

“Are you serious? Not once in my life have I ever been ‘appalled’ by your appearance.” He looks extremely offended as he uses air quotes in the most mocking way possible. “Why would you even think that?” You laugh at that, though there is very little humour behind it.

“Matthew, we were 17. I’m not much to look at now, and back then?” You wince at the mere thought of your 17 year old body. “I certainly never had anything like the girls you were into Matty. I’m not stupid it’s okay.” He stares at you now. Mouth open slightly, eyes scanning your face. Waiting, hoping you’d say you were joking. Admit you didn’t see yourself as less than any girl Matthew had ever been with, but you don’t. Instead you stare right back at him, an emotion swimming in your eyes Matthew can’t quite place.

“You really think I ran away because I was grossed out by that whole encounter?” He askes, and you nod. Your eyes dropping to the floor. Matthew lets out a deep laugh, and falls back against the floor again. “Y/n. That is so incredibly far from the truth! I was embarrassed, so embarrassed that I ran the whole way home and locked myself in my room. I then pleaded with Brady to just go without me, and put my name on his gift because I thought you were mad at me. I thought you looked incredible, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever sprung a boner so fast in my life.” Your stomach flutters at his confession. The thought of Matthew thinking about you like that made the want you’d been pushing down for years start to bubble up again. You can’t bring yourself to respond, instead you pick absentmindedly at a loose thread on your shorts. Matthew lets out a loud groan, pulling himself up off the floor entirely.

“Sorry if that made this weird. I hope you understand that you shouldn’t ever compare yourself to any girl. You’re amazing y/n.” You smile up at him and mumble a thank you. It takes everything in you to will away the tears that begin to form in your eyes. “If you don’t believe my story,” Matthew nods to a small box sitting on the coffee table he’d moved earlier. “that is the birthday present I planned to give you that day. It’s the whole reason I walked into your room that day, I wanted you to have it before everyone else showed up.”

With that, Matthew is gone again. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in the small box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper. Poorly wrapped you might add. You stand up grabbing the box and a blanket. Wrapping yourself tightly in the blanket, you fall back against the couch examining the package closely.

After twenty minutes of staring at it, you peel away the pink paper with trembling fingers. The dark velvet box, has a sticky note stuck to the top. As you read it, the tears start to fall steadily.

Happy Birthday! I hope you know just how much you mean to me. Hopefully this gift will mean that you never forget me. Love you bug xx-Matty

The little heart he drew at the end pulls a sob out of you. Contrary to the sobs now wracking your body, a smile forms on your face. Slowly, you flip open the small box. Gasping loudly, the box slips from your grasp as both hands come to your face. Although moments ago you wouldn’t have thought it possible, you cry harder now. The necklace is simply beautiful. The small golden ‘M’ makes your heart soar, and break simultaneously.

Your mind runs in circles now. Had you received the gift on the day you were intended to, would things be different? The gift seems more than platonic. You need to confide in someone. You had no idea who to call. You can’t call Brady, he wouldn’t understand. You most definitely can’t call Macy.

Without even thinking you pick up your phone and press on one contact. The phone rings as you press it to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s beautiful Matt, but it’s too much I can’t take this.” Your voice is shaking and you hope he can’t hear it. Your heart is racing, mind spinning, and nausea swirls through you.

“Y/n/n, keep it please. I bought it years ago, I can’t return it. You’re still my best friend and I want you to have it. We are still friends...” Matthew pauses for a moment, “right?”

“Of course!” You say trying to fight off the urge to tell him you aren’t. You of course would always be friends, but you don’t want that anymore. You can’t continue being a third wheel. “Actually that’s why I went over earlier. I wanted to invite you and Macy out to dinner. Tomorrow night. With me and my boyfriend. If you’re free of course!”

You couldn’t sound more awkward if you tried, but Matthew agrees. You make plans to meet at your favourite diner the following evening, and then say goodnight.

Matthew doesn’t need to know that you slipped the gold chain on after hanging up. Just like you don’t need to know Matthew was currently canceling plans he had previously made with Macy.

———

“Matthew this is-“ You start to introduce the two men standing in front of you, but Matthew quickly interrupts.

“Nathan I know. Nice to uh- see you again I guess?” Nathan let’s out an awkward chuckle as he shakes Matthews hand. “Anyways!” You say breaking the awkward silence that fills the space around you. “Where is Macy anyway?” You ask, taking your seat at the table. Both guys follow suit, and Matthews gaze finally falls to you.

“She sends her apologies, something came up with work. You’re stuck with just me tonight.” He says, sending a wink in Nathan’s direction.

“Tkachuk I swear to god. Be a pest on the ice all you want, but can we for once have a civil meal?” You glare at him across the table, and Nathan sets a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry babe, he’s just having some fun.” Nathan says reassuringly. You smile at him, but the smile quickly fades when Matthew speaks up again. “Yeah babe, we’re just having fun.” He laughs mockingly.

Dinner continues a lot like that. Back and forth, both men trying to prove something. Nathan trying to prove to Matthew that he isn’t temporary. Matthew trying to prove to Nathan, that Matthew is a constant in your life and can end this in a second if he wanted. Whatever this was. The pair even argue over who would pay the bill. You end up paying it yourself, as you leave the testosterone at the table to battle it out.

Nathan has to get home, as he has work early tomorrow. So of course Matthew takes it upon himself the drive you back home. The ride is silent, and you fiddle with the chain around your neck the whole way. No words are spoken until Matthew puts the car in park. “String bean know you’re wearing my initial?” He smirks, eyes falling to where your hands still tug at the chain.

“What’s your issue with him?” You spit, anger getting the better of you. “I was nothing but accepting of Macy. I befriended her for you Matthew! Why can you not for once just be nice and do this one thing for me?” You don’t wait for his response, instead you throw yourself out of the vehicle. You forego the elevator, choosing instead to take the stairs to get to your apartment as fast as you can. Once there you slam your door, and bang your forehead against the back of the door.

After a moment of just leaning against the inside of the door a small knock sounds from the other side. “Go away.” You grumble, knowing exactly who is on the other side.

“Bug. Please just listen.” He pauses for a moment and you just let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared you’re settling. I want you to be happy, but I get the feeling he’s not it. I’m sorry I was rude, that was a dick move. I just really care about you, and just because I know I could totally take string bean in a fight, doesn’t mean I want to. I know you’re lonely, and you’re feeling like a third wheel. You’re allowed to date Bug, but I want you to be happy and loved. If it’s really string be- Nathan.” He corrects himself, “If it’s really Nathan you want, then great! I’ll apologize to him, and we can move on. But Y/n, I think you and I both know he’s not. Find what you want and go get it. You deserve it.” Tears are flowing silently down your cheeks. Matt is right. Nathan is not what you want, he never will be. It’s Matt, it’s always been Matt.

After a minute or two of trying to compose yourself, you really think about Matthew’s words. Find what you want and go get it. He’s right, how can you ever be happy if you don’t at least try to chase what you want? So with that you fling open your door, ready to run into Matthew’s arms. To tell him how you feel, to tell him that it’s him you want.

As if the world was trying to play a cruel trick on you, it’s not Matt’s arms you’re greeted with. Instead of being held tightly in his warm embrace, you find yourself surrounded by a cold and empty hallway. It’s so quiet, you can practically hear the sound of your heart breaking all over again. You laugh humourlessly at how stupid you feel. You had hoped Matt’s words of encouragement were a sign. A sign that he could see your harboured feelings, and wanted nothing more than for you to act on them.

Matt watches you through the peephole in his apartment door, heart shattering as you shrink back into your apartment. Nothing was fixed. Macy had told him to fix this, but he’d only manage to make it worse.

———

“Why’d you call her that?” Macy presses, moments after her and Matt walk into his apartment. Matthew shrugs, which is not helping the situation. He could just be honest, and tell Macy that he and Brady had always called you bug.

It all started one summer afternoon when you had thrown a total fit after Brady had pointed out a bug had landed in your hair. For months Brady and Matthew would randomly yell ‘BUG!’ while pointing at you to get a reaction. At some point they just started calling you bug. It was stupid and platonic. At least it was for Brady. The way Matthew said it was always different. It gave you butterflies, and Matthew would be lying if he said he didn’t love the pet name.

“It’s just a nickname.” He defends, walking to the kitchen. She follows closely behind him, watching closely as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He leans against the counter taking a long drink, as Macy stands with her arms crossed waiting for more. Matthew was getting frustrated with the whole situation. “Are you seriously upset about me calling her bug?” He asks in disbelief.

Macy shakes her head, laughing humourlessly with a roll of her eyes. “No Matthew. I’m not. It’s a cute little nickname and that’s absolutely fine. It’s the fact that when she’s around you’re different. It’s like you’re scared to stand too close to me, like she might be upset about it. You tiptoe around her, you didn’t even want to tell her about me Matt. Are you ashamed of me?” The emotion evident in Macy’s eyes, is something Matt hasn’t seen from her before. Something he wasn’t expecting.

“Macy, I am not ashamed of you at all. I-it’s just that Y/n has no one in Calgary, and I’ve always been her bestfriend. When I started seeing you I was scared she’d cling to whoever she felt could fill the spot I had to step back from. And she did, and she isn’t happy with him. I’m sorry that you suffered because of it.” He tries to explain, walking to the girl standing in front of him. He grabs her hips and places a kiss to her temple as tears threate to slip down her cheeks.

“I’m your girlfriend Matt. Start acting like it.”

———

“How did it go?” Brady asks, his goofy smile way too close to the screen. He FaceTimed you a few times a month usually. Checking in, on you and Matt both. He knows you had gone to dinner with Matt and Nathan two nights ago now. You know he called looking to say ‘I told you so’, but you know he won’t be able to. This was one time you truly wish he could.

“Uh it. Well, it wasn’t great.” You frown, and Brady’s smile quickly falls as well. “Nathan and I broke up.”

“WHAT!? Do I have to fight a man, because I have done it before and I’ll do it again?” He jokes to lighten the mood that quickly shifted.

“I actually broke up with him...” Brady’s face twists in confusion. Trying to piece together what he’s missing. A week ago you were so stressed out about Matthew not liking this guy, that you didn’t even want them to meet. Now you had broken up with him? Needless to say Brady was baffled. “He wasn’t what I wanted, I was settling.” You mumble a little embarrassed, as you fiddle with the chain that hasn’t left your neck.

“Y/n... you have to move on.” Brady says gently. Certainly not the reaction you were expecting.

“Brady, I’m fine. I broke up with him. I’m over Nathan, honestly there was nothing to get over.” You shake your head, bringing a smile to your face to emphasize the fact you are okay.

“Not Nathan.” Brady sighs shaking his head. It doesn’t make sense, but judging by the serious tone of his voice and the gentle smile. You aren’t going to like where this was going. “You need to get over Matthew.”

The minute the words leave his mouth you want to scream and cry. Tell him he’s wrong, and an asshole for even assuming that. You want to tell him he’s right. To ask him for help. You want to ask him why you have to get over him, and explain that you can’t. You want to ask him so many questions, but only one comes out; “Why have I never been good enough for him Brady?” You’re crying now. No actually, you’re sobbing. You’re inconsolable, and Brady is in Ottawa.

“Y/n it’s not like that.” He doesn’t know how to let you down easy. How can he explain that Matthew loves everything about you, but would never love you the way you love him? How can someone explain that you were exactly what Matthew wants, and that’s why you’ll never be his. Matthew can’t lose you. He can’t wreck what you have. Brady doesn’t know that Matthew used to want you that way. All he knows is that anytime he, Chantal, Taryn, or Keith brought it up Matthew would laugh and say he could never date you. You are his bestfriend. The truth is, Matthew knows he isn’t good enough. Not for you. No one ever will be. You are perfect to him.

“Forget it.” You bark, more aggressively than Brady deserves, but you are hurt. You have never talked to anyone about how you feel about Matthew. Having Brady call you out like that terrifies you. Who else knows? Taryn? Chantal? Does Matthew know? Just the thought of it makes your stomach churn. You immediately end the FaceTime call, not allowing Brady to say anything else.

He tries calling back. You ignore him, just like you ignore the constant stream of texts. He even has Taryn trying to get ahold of you. Of course he does. You shut off your phone, and curl up on your couch. The bad reality tv show playing softly in the background can’t even keep your attention. You instead, stare at the coffee table. It’s still pushed farther to one side of your living room, right where Matt left it. You continue to stare at it, your whole body feeling numb, until finally sleep takes over.

———

Matthew knows something is up as soon as Brady calls him. “What happened Brady?” Matthew asks, concern for you beating out any rational thoughts. He knows how pathetic he sounds, and prays his brother doesn’t pick up on it. As soon as Brady mentions your name, Matthew demands more information, but Brady won’t tell him what happened.

“I’m sure she’s fine Matt, I just upset her and now she won’t answer my calls. Please just check on her and tell her I’m sorry.” Brady says, before abruptly being hung up on. Again.

Matthew quickly makes his way to your door, and lets himself in. Sure he should knock, but he knows if you are upset you likely won’t answer anyway. The sight that meets Matthew when he enters your apartment makes his heart burst. There you are, curled up in a blanket fast asleep, hand clutching the pendant around your neck. He tries his best to stop the feeling in his gut as he realizes how domestic this moment feels.

Matthew gathers you in his arms as gently as he can, and carries you to your bedroom. As he lays you down, you adjust yourself slightly, but it is clear you are out like a light. “You’ll find him bug.” Matt whispers as he places a gentle kiss to your hairline. “The perfect guy is going to come along and sweep you off your feet. You’ll have that big wedding you’ve always wanted, a couple beautiful little babies, and I’ll be there cheering you on. You’re perfect bug, never settle.” Matthew fights back the lump that forms in his throat, as he pushes the hair gently from your face. “I wish it could’ve been me.” He says it so quietly that if you had been awake you still may not have heard him. So he leaves, pushing all those thoughts away and trying to remember that you’ll always be his best friend. Just his best friend.

———

“Well if it isn’t Matthew’s better half!” Mark greets you as you find your way into the backyard. You somehow got an invite to the teams’ end of the season BBQ, and now here you are already getting chirped by the captain.

“Easy there Gio, Matt has a girlfriend now remember?” You joke back with a wink, but you feel a twinge of sadness. You don’t have much time to think about it though, as the captain throws his arm over your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’ve always liked you better though, not sure why he’d pass up on you.” The blush that floods your cheeks makes your whole body feel hot with embarrassment. You know he’s joking, but it does feel good to hear it.

Mark leads you deeper into the yard, as you say hi to everyone. “There she is!” Your head snaps around quickly as you hear Matt’s voice. As soon as your eyes land on him, you notice his are already on you. “Hey Matty!” You greet with a smile as he wraps you in his arms. He smells like sweat and beer, and he refuses to let you out of his grasp. That is until you hear someone clear their throat, and he pulls away awkwardly.

“Macy! How’ve you been?” You greet her with a big smile and pull her into a hug. She responds quietly, and soon after excuses herself to get a drink. You send Matt a questioning look, but he only shrugs and drags you to the beer pong table announcing you are his partner.

That’s how your afternoon goes, beating everyone in beer pong with Matt as your partner. You’re slowly getting tipsy, and subsequently warmer. Peeling your top off, Johnny Gaudreau whistles loudly from across the table. You are wearing a pretty revealing red bikini top, but given the fact you are slightly intoxicated Johnny’s reaction doesn’t bother you. In fact it is welcomed as you send him a wink.

“Hey Gaudreau! How about you stop staring at my friends chest and throw the damn ball?” Matt growls beside you. You bump your hip with his, and furrow your brows at him silently asking if he’s okay. He shakes his head gently in dismissal as he smiles at you.

Macy sits quietly to your left, watching you all play. She watches the way Matt places his hands on your hips to help you get in position. Watches as he lifts you into the air spinning you around after you win a round. Watches as Matthew tries to advert his gaze as you peel your shirt off, his neck turning red, and not because of the hot sun. The straw for Macy was when she seew the emotions on Matt’s face as Johnny hits on you. His entire body tensing, as he grips the edge of the table. Why was he so protective of you? Would Matthew not be happy if two of his best friends dated? It is in that moment that it becomes clear to her. It has nothing to do with him not wanting you to be with Johnny. He wants you to be with him.

———

“Everything okay? You’ve barely said a thing to me all day.” Matt asks when he and Macy finally make it back to his apartment. She sighs loudly, starting to gather anything of hers laying around the apartment.

“You were busy having fun Matt, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. Or anything for that matter.” She responds, though her words only confuse him more. She just sends a soft smile in his direction as she shoves more things into her bag.

“Aren’t you staying?” He asks, a small pout forming on his face. Macy shakes her head, turning toward Matt. Her face is apologetic, but mostly unreadable to Matthew.

“You know you’re in love with her right?” Macy blurts out, and quickly clarifies. “Y/n, you love her.”

“Since when?” Matthew shoots back, way too defensively.

“Since pretty much always. That’s why I’m breaking up with you.” She smiles sadly closing the distance between the two. Placing a small kiss to his cheek, she whispers a small apology.

Matthew opens his mouth to protest, ask her to stay. Tell her she’s wrong, and that he loves her, not you. He can’t though, because it would be a lie. She knows it, and so does he. So he watches as she leaves, an uneasy feeling in his stomach as a single tear falls down his face. What has he done?

———

You decide to take a few summer classes to help make your work load for the upcoming school year a little more manageable. Choosing to stay in Calgary for the summer, instead of traveling back to St. Louis with Matthew to see your family. Matthew tries to convince you to go, but you tell him you can’t. You need some distance from him anyway.

———

It was distance you got. You barely talk to him all summer, and tonight will be the first time you’ve seen him since that night at the BBQ.

“How is Matthew doing?” Elias’ girlfriend Annica asks you, as the two of you take your seats at the home opener. You shrug and sigh taking a sip of your drink. “I don’t know, I’ve barely spoken to him since the BBQ at Gio’s.” You admit, a small frown on your face.

“Wait? Did he not tell you!?” She practically shrieks in your ear. You just give her a confused look, a wide smile stretching across her face. “About him and Macy!”

Immediately your stomach drops. You brace yourself for the announcement. Maybe they’ve moved in together? Got engaged? Having a baby? All of the thoughts make you feel sick, but you smile over at Annica trying to hide your emotions. “No I haven’t spoken to either of them really. What are they finally tying the knot?” You try and joke, but really you’re terrified of the answer. Annica’s face falls slightly. Confusion written all over her face.

“They broke up.” Annica explains in a light tone. Almost as if she was explaining it to a child. “Oh.” Was all you manage to choke out, as Annica watches you. She’s waiting for more of a reaction, but you can only sit in shock. What happened? Why didn’t he tell you? Why did no one tell you?

You can barely sit still through the game, you’re mind is running wild. Why had Matt not talked to you about this? Why had he barely spoken to you at all? Was he okay? Who broke up with who? Why do you care so much? Soon enough though all of your questions will be answered. You are standing next to Annica outside the locker rooms, tapping your foot nervously. She asks if you are okay, and all you can do is nod. Elias makes his way out of the dressing room and over to you. He gives you both a quick hug and you congratulate him on their win. “Matt will be out in a few minutes.” He smiles at you, and you tell the couple to have a good night as they leave. Gio and Johnny both stop to talk to you on their way out.

Johnny hangs back and waits with you. “How was your summer? Finally got a break from the pest I hear.” He teases, leaning against the wall beside you. You smirk up at him, “My summer was great! Significantly quieter than I’m used to, but I enjoyed it. It’s nice to see you again though, how was your summer?” He smiles brightly down at you as he launches into some long story about how crazy his training was. You try to listen, and seem interested, but that becomes significantly harder as Matthew finally comes out of the dressing room.

He is wearing a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt. The top three buttons undone, and his tie just draping loosely around his neck. His hair is damp and falls across his forehead, he is staring at his phone still not having noticed you. He almost walks right past you, but you speak up grabbing his attention. “Any time for your biggest fan hotshot?” His eyes snap up from his phone, a grin replacing his previously shocked expression.

“My biggest fan huh?” He smirks pulling you into a tight hug. You grip onto his suit jacket tightly not wanting to let go as you hum into his chest. “That why you’re wearing that necklace?” He teases and you blush trying to hide your face even further in his chest. “Shut up,” You mumble, “I missed you.” He kisses the top of your head mumbling about missing you too. Johnny clears his throat awkwardly, as you quickly pull away from Matthew.

“Well I’m going to head out now, goodnight you two.” Johnny winks at you as he walks away. You turn back towards Matthew to see him smiling down at you, and your stomach drops. A small frown makes its way onto your face as you remember exactly what you came to talk to Matthew about. “Matt, we need to talk.” His face falls a little bit, but he nods and grabs your hand in his. He starts walking further into the building, and you follow. Eyes trained on your hand in his, heart beating rapidly in your chest. You’re so nervous, that you hardly even realize Matthew is leading you up the steps and into two seats in the top row of the arena. As the two of you sit down, you don’t look at him. Instead you stare down at the ice, now only lit by the emergency lights causing a strange glow. You’ve never seen the arena like this, so quiet and lifeless. Your internal thoughts seem amplified in the silence, but you can’t seem to find the words to say what you’re thinking.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in silence before Matthew let’s out a sigh, turning towards you. “St. Louis isn’t the same without you.” He says quietly, a sad smile on his face as you finally meet his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Macy?” You blurt out, face heating up in embarrassment once again. Matt stares at you for a moment, before dropping his eyes to his hands that are now fidgeting in his lap.

“I didn’t know what to say.” He mumbles out, playing with his fingers. You shake your head and sigh, pulling your eyes away from the distracting movements of his hands. You decide to examine the ice once again, wrapping your arms across your chest. You’re trying to brace yourself for how badly this might end.

“You didn’t know how to tell your best friend you broke up with your first really serious girlfriend?” Your voice is probably too accusatory, but you’re hurt. How can he keep so much of his life from you? Your mind is running in circles as you wait for a response, attempting to hold yourself tighter.

“Yeah like it’s that easy!” Matthew’s voice is significantly more angry than you are expecting, and your heart rate increases immediately. “I say ‘We broke up.’ And then you ask a million questions about what happened and why, I didn’t know how to say it!”

You look at him now. His eyes are glossy, and his face is red. In anger or embarrassment? Who knows, maybe both. “Matty, I know you really cared about her. It’s not easy to talk about, but if you’re going to move on you have to talk to someone.” You make sure to keep your voice gentle as you speak, “I want to be that person for you Matt, but if I’m not that’s okay. Just please talk to someone, you can’t stay broken forever.”

Matthew laughs at you, but it doesn’t make you feel better. The laugh is humourless, and you can hear the lack of emotion behind it. “That’s the part I can’t explain Y/n, you don’t get it! I’m not broken about it, and I should be! I was in love!” He’s frustrated now, as he runs his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Matthew, it’s okay. People fall out of love all the time!” You place a hand on his bicep to try and sooth him. It seems to work as you feel his muscles relax under your touch. He sighs softly beside you, as he lifts his eyes to meet yours once again.

“I didn’t fall out of love, I’m still in love.” Your brows furrow in confusion, as you search his eyes for any clue about what could be going on inside his head. “Just not with Macy.”

“T-there’s someone else?” You are taken aback, and now your mind is spinning. Did he cheat on Macy? Who is she? Matthew just nods in response. “Have I met her? Oh my god please don’t tell me it’s like one of the WAGs or something!” You are rambling uncontrollably, unable to comprehend what Matthew is trying to say. “Matthew did you cheat on Mac-“ Thankfully he was quick to cut you off.

“It’s you.”

You freeze. Eyes practically popping out of your skull, you open and close your mouth repeatedly. Sure you might look like a fish out of water, but that’s exactly how you feel. You must have misheard what he is saying. Right? The ‘you’ had to be someone else. The look Matthew is giving you right now though, a look of total honesty, a look that is teetering on the edge of disappointment. That look tells you all you need to know. He means you. He is in love with you.

“Since when?” You croak out. Your entire body is trembling with nerves, still terrified he will take it back. Maybe you’re being punked.

Matthew leans closer to you, uncrossing your arms that were still wrapped tightly across your chest. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as he takes your trembling hands in his. His hands feel different now, softer. They are so much bigger than your own, and you’ve never noticed until now just how right they felt wrapped around your own.

Matthew releases on of your hands, as he brings one to your chin. He tilts your head so you’re looking into his eyes again. “Since always.” He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours. You subconsciously lick your lips, and Matthew takes that as a sign to lean in. His lips hover just above yours, but he doesn’t close the gap.

“Matty-“ you whine quietly, and he smirks in response.

“What’s wrong bug?” He’s teasing you now, and he knows it.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment since the tenth grade, please just kiss me!” Your pleads are finally answered as Matthew finally presses his lips to yours. It’s firm and certain, and intoxicating. Gripping his suit jacket, you pull him closer deepening the kiss even more. Matthew groans against your lips, one hand cradling your neck, the other gripping your hip tightly.

The kiss starts getting more intense, the years of built up tension and pining being shared in this one kiss. Matthew, despite not wanting to stop, pulls away first. Your lips chase his, not wanting the moment to end. Scared that when it does, you’ll wake up. Like this is all a dream. Or even worse, it’ll end, and Matthew tells you he was wrong.

“Easy tiger!” He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear. Matthew is positive you’ve never looked so beautiful. You’re lips are pink and swollen, face flushed lightly, and your eyes are big and bright as they look into his.

“Did you mean it?” You ask quietly, “When you said that you loved me, because Matty I can’t do this if you aren’t in. I can’t lose you.” Tears are stinging your eyes now, as your voice cracks with emotion. You can’t lose your best friend, and that has become more clear to you after not being with him all summer.

“I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you want.” He looks at you hopefully. Your heart is beating so loudly in your chest, you’re almost positive he can hear it.

“Matthew of course this is what I want. I’ve always wanted you.” You pause momentarily, as you see a small smile spread across his face. His dimples now on full display. “I love you Tkachuk. I always have.”

He wastes no time kissing you again. Your hands tangle in his hair that’s still slightly damp, and his hands cup both of your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your lips. You push him back, so you can look at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You’re confused now, as you immediately begin building your walls back up. You’re waiting now, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know this felt too perfect.

“Because,” he sighs, shoulders slumping under your gaze. “I should have done that so long ago. Instead I let you think you weren’t good enough. I let you go on believing that I didn’t love you. Brady told me about what you said, about not being good enough. I hope you know now that it was never like that. You are, if anything, too good for me. I was scared, and stupid, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Your heart breaks a little for him. You can see the remorse and guilt written all over his face. “Well Matthew. I can accept that apology under one condition.” You say teasingly, running your hand over his shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You take me out on a date.”

Matthew smiles brightly down at you, and places a soft kiss to your forehead. “On one condition.” He whispers, lips still pressed against your skin. “You let me take you out as my girlfriend.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re just a big sap Tkachuk?” You smirk. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so happy.

“Actually my girlfriend has, just now. She’s kinda cute.” You slap his chest playfully and roll your eyes.

“Take me home Tkachuk.” You announce, pushing yourself to your feet. Matthew copies your actions, adding a little salute to make you laugh. It does the job, and Matthew has you laughing the whole way to his car. As he opens the door for you, you lean into his chest pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re perfect.” Matthew says after the two of you are finally settled in to your respective seats in his car.

“Since when?” You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Always.”

#Since When?#matthew tkachuk #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #hockey writing #Matthew Tkachuk imagines #Matthew Tkachuk fanfiction #Matthew Tkachuk writing #Matthew Tkachuk x Reader

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stylesharrys · 3 years

Text

tastes like strawberries

summary: harry takes y/n on a seemingly innocent and romantic picnic.

word count: 4,433

warnings: kissing, teasing, swearing, slight exhibitionism, fingering, dirty talk,

a/n: wow i've had this idea in my drafts since we got the watermelon sugar music video and i completely forgot about it and never got round to actually writing it. anyway, after a dry spell of harry content, it's here, and it's smutty!

Romantic little getaways have always been fond things for Y/N and Harry to do. Last year he took her to Rome for the weekend and a few months later, they cruised on his personal yacht for a week. Y/N used to travel a lot when Harry was on tour two years ago, but as of recent with his busy schedule in the studio, neither of them have had much time together to chat, let alone to plan a spontaneous trip away.

So when Y/N gets home from shopping and Harry is back from the studio early, prepping a little wicker basket full of fruits and finger foods, she's eagerly jumping at the mention of a spontaneous picnic in the park not too far from their London home.

He's always been a hopeless romantic, even more so since he proposed three months ago over a homemade, candlelit dinner in their dining room. Y/N knows he won't fail to make the picnic anything short of romantic and magical, and so, putting on one of her favourite ditsy sundresses, she lets him drive them to the chosen destination.

It's a little late in the evening, the summer air still warm on their skin, the sky still bright and winds still blowing a caressing breeze. While Harry carries the picnic basket out of the car, he lets Y/N set up the blanket a little way from other couples and families that occupy the different spaces.

He's dressed in the suitable summer attire; some cargo shorts and a plain white t-shirt that hangs a little loose around his middle. It's been a while since Harry's had a haircut, and over the past few weeks, Y/N has thoroughly enjoyed coursing her fingers through his thick waves.

Harry's enjoyed it just as much — especially when she tugs just right at the root when he's got his face buried deep within her sweet thighs.

He has no shame watching as the gentle breeze blows the skirt of her dress up when she bends over to unroll the blanket. Harry gets the most perfect view of the swell of Y/N's ass, the way the lace string disappears between her cheeks, and the clothed triangle of her cunt.

There's no need for him to look away bashfully, not when he's the one that knows what he's got planned. But knowing Harry stands right behind her, Y/N makes no attempt to push her skirt back down. Instead, she lets him get a good look, and knowing his stare is boring into her backside sends warmth across her body.

"You're gonna need to put the basket down to stop the corners from blowing up," she huffs out over her shoulder, effectively breaking Harry from his little trance of pleasure.

He hums, nodding his head. Sinking to his knees, Harry places the basket to the side and reaches out for his girl. She squeals when she feels his hands grip deliciously at her waist, eyes fluttering closed, but Y/N has to remind herself where she is and who's around.

"Stop it," she chastises under her breath, a fire of excitement burning her skin.

A lazy grin sits wicked on Harry's lips as he helps her hold down the corners of the blanket. They sit on either side of it, Y/N admiring the green scenery while Harry unloads the picnic basket and lays out the array of finger foods he had prepared.

A hearty smile makes its way on Y/N's lips as she watches. He's had this prepared on the off chance that she would agree, and the thought warms her heart. She can tell he made the sandwiches herself, and she wonders when he found the time to cup up the fruit and cook a batch of her favourite chicken pasta salad.

Y/N sighs, eyes bright. "Harry, this is so cute. Can't believe you did all this."

His grin only spreads; her praise an influential stroke to his ever-growing ego. Harry reckons this evening will be one to go down in the books — one he knows she'll remember and think back to every time they have a picnic again.

He isn't sure when the idea came about. Maybe it was some shitty porno he watched when he was on tour a few years back, and Y/N was sleeping. He dubiously remembers watching some video of a couple fucking on a picnic spread, and Harry quickly decided that's something he wanted to do with his girl.

Call him an exhibitionist, call her a good little girl. Either way, in the years they've been together, Harry and Y/N have exposed quite distinctly the rush they get at the possibility of being caught. But with Harry's status and profession, it's a little difficult to sneak a public fuck on a field without someone watching and having it make the headlines.

They'd both much favour their private lives stay out of the mouths of others. Leave them guessing and unknowing. Harry savours his privacy, and Y/N prefers being unknown to the world. Despite them being together for the past five years and Harry recently proposing, all the public know is her name and face. Nothing more, nothing less.

Harry intends to keep it that way for as long as he possibly can. He doesn't want his precious love being imperilled to the vultures of the media. Harry wants her protected forever, where she can live her pure little life without the apprehension of being mobbed or followed. The thought of the latter happening has his hands tensing at his sides, but he calms when she crawls across the blanket to settle a kiss to his lips and give him a turkey sandwich.

"Definitely won the jackpot with you, didn't I? Taking me on a romantic picnic for no reason."

Y/N's skin is warm as she chooses to settle beside him. Harry reaches for her thigh, resting a heavy hand on her smooth skin and giving it an affectionate squeeze. The sundress isn't helping him control himself, but he wonders if Y/N had a notion for what he has planned. Because a short, flowy sundress is objectionably convenient for them both.

Harry takes a bite of his sandwich. He doesn't need to peer down at her to know she's peeking up at him in apprehension. She isn't a silly woman. While Y/N knows Harry will make romantic gestures like this for no reason, she also knows him well enough to know when he's plotting something.

"I don't know about being the jackpot, babe. Your friends just go for shitty men."

Y/N snorts at that, nodding in agreement because she can't argue. She knows all of her friends are envious of her relationship with Harry — not the toxic and resenting kind, more of the longing and wishing kind. They want a man that will treat them like a Princess. They want their own Harry.

And maybe Y/N sometimes likes to brush it in their faces how he always puts her first or is so devoted and passionate. And most definitely, she likes to observe their jaws drop when she lets loose how he still makes her cum before him — at least once.

But of course, just like any other relationship, with the good comes the bad. For them, the flawed being that Harry has to travel a lot for work, and sometimes, they can go months without seeing each other in person. Y/N gets lonely, and Harry gets homesick. It almost invariably ends up in a fight over FaceTime, but neither can fall asleep angry with each other.

It's an unspoken rule since they first started dating. No matter what, no one goes to bed angry without saying they're sorry.

"I won't argue with you there."

It's tranquil around them, the sun slowly starting to set as the evening dwindles away. They've eaten most of the picnic food, both cradling their glasses of wine. Y/N's on her second, Harry topping his with lemonade so he can still drive them both home safely at the end of the night.

There's a fresh breeze in the air as it brushes Y/N's hair over her shoulder. The gentle contrast of temperature sends goosebumps across the surface of her skin, and she instinctively curls closer into Harry's side.

They've migrated beside one another as time passed. Harry lays on his side, head propped up by an arm that's bent at the elbow. Y/N mirrors his position, but her head isn't in her hand like Harry's is — both of hers cradle her wine glass and Harry reckons she's got a gorgeous radiance to her skin in the golden glow of the sun.

He reaches out to trace a piece of hair out of her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone, and she nuzzles instinctively into his touch. There's a Tupperware tub of fresh strawberries wedged between them as he caresses the side of her face, a lazy smile on her lips and Harry thinks she's the most beautiful thing to have ever walked the planet.

"Let me feed you a strawberry," she murmurs, pulling away from his hand, so it drops to the blanket.

He shuffles closer—impossibly—and lets her lift the fruity treat up to his mouth. Harry doesn't take his eyes off her when he parts his lips and takes the strawberry into his mouth. Y/N's eyes are hooded as she watches, the stem still between her fingers as he takes a bite.

A soft squelch can be heard as the juice trickles down the corner of his lip. Y/N's hand is frozen in place by his face, thighs involuntarily clenching at the sight. Harry does nothing to disguise the smirk that rises to smear across his mouth, and his ungodly tongue outlines his lower lip until he catches the bead of strawberry juice.

They both know what he's doing, but Y/N isn't about to call him out on it. She thinks she knows precisely what his plans and intentions are behind this seemingly innocent and idyllic picnic.

He's a sick man, and she can't get enough.

"My turn," he rasps out.

Y/N's arm hesitates back between them as she drops the stalk of the strawberry into the tub, and Harry retrieves another. Heavy eyes chase his every movement as he lifts the fruit to her mouth, the cool tip of it tracing lightly across her lips.

She has to take a breath to ground herself, but as she inhales, the scent is sickly sweet, and her mind is clouded by want and need. Y/N wants nothing more than to squeeze and smush strawberries across Harry's chest, and take her time licking it all off, inch by inch.

To any passerby's, the act they share looks nothing short of innocent. A man feeding his lover — just a couple enjoying the summer air and tasty fruits. Oh, how naïve the unknowing can be.

Y/N takes a bite into the fruit, humming at the sugary taste and chewing. Their piercing gaze never falters, and just like Harry, a drop or two films her lip and begins to trail down the corner of her mouth. Only this time, she doesn't get the chance to trace her tongue across it like he did.

Harry is dropping the stem back into the tub and leaning forward to encapsulate her lips in his. He kisses her, tongue swiping across her lower lip and the corner of her mouth to lick up the sweetness that dared to drip.

She swallows the strawberry when he licks into her mouth, and his body begins to lean closer. Harry lays her on her back, crawling above her with both hands resting by her head to keep him up. His legs tangle with hers, Y/N's fingers brushing through his unruly curls.

A content hum echoes from the back of her throat. Harry can never get enough of the noises she makes, so the little whimper of need is greedily acknowledged, and spurs him on more.

Their tongues play a forbidden dance. They're both too encompassed by each other to really be concerned where they are or who may be watching. But when Harry traces a hand up the length of her thigh and starts to let it disappear under the hem of her dress, she parts her lips form his and takes a heavy breath.

"H… we can't. Not here," she tells him.

He can sense the inner turmoil in her voice. She wants him, even now, with strangers likely watching them. She doesn't care, not really. She thinks it's the hottest thing ever; someone watching Harry make her feel good. Her Harry.

Harry doesn't give a shit, shaking his head and kissing her again — more demanding this time. He can't get enough of her taste. It's fucking intoxicating, and she lets him continue to trail his hand further up her thigh, squeezing deliciously at the extra fleshy parts that he always loves to kiss and suck on when his head is buried between her thighs.

He doesn't need to feel her to know she's already soaking through her panties. The position they're in under the large oak tree works as the perfect disguise. The shade it offers alludes to the most innocent of acts. Two lovers sharing a searing kiss as the sun begins to set.

Innocent.

"No one's gonna know," he whispers into her mouth.

It's a piss poor attempt at encouraging her, but she didn't need much reassurance in the first place. She trusts Harry and his judgement. She knows he would never do anything to put either of them at risk, especially not just to get her off when they could do that at home — or even in the car.

There's a thrill, but Harry knows better than anyone how to cover something up. Maybe that's what makes her so hot about the idea: Harry protecting her.

Y/N's eyes start to roll to the back of her head. Harry's fingers play with her clit over the fabric of her knickers. She's soaked, just as he had expected. He can't help himself from rutting his hips into her thigh; he's painfully hard, and she's too sexy for her own good.

"You're soaked. Fuckin' knew you'd be dripping over this. Dirty thing."

Y/N's lips are parted at his words, her mind so frazzled that her body can't comprehend how to kiss him back and focus on the pleasure at the same time. She gets like this when she's so fucked she's nothing but an obedient little girl.

Harry fucking loves it; sends him on the incredible power trip of his life. She does anything he asks of her, lets him have his way. Y/N falls into a state of complete submission, and knowing she trusts him to do anything he pleases tends to give him the biggest love boners of all time.

She's nodding against his mouth. Harry's still trying to kiss her, knows how much she likes it, even when she can't focus enough to kiss him back. Harry's smearing his lips against hers. The pressure is put back on her clit as he sucks her tongue into his mouth.

Y/N's body is entirely relaxed on the picnic blanket like they're not out in the open for any hiding pap to see. The thought doesn't even cross her mind. And it doesn't cross Harry's either, because he knows he doesn't need to worry—not right now. His main concern is making her cum.

Harry loops his index and middle fingers into the edge of her knickers, tugging it away from her hot skin. Y/N shudders out an uneasy breath of anticipation, thighs rubbing across his trapped cock that throbs in its tight confinements.

She starts to whine, bucking her hips in eager want, but Harry isn't going to have any of that. He pulls away from her, just enough to see her eyes struggling to flutter open. She's blissed out, a hazy glow in her gaze; the desperate look he's all too familiar with.

"You know needy girls don't get what they want, baby."

The warning tugs another whine from the back of her throat. Harry retracts his hand from her cunt to prove his point. She pouts, brows frowned in the cutest of faces. Harry struggles not to give in to her and give her anything she wants. Y/N has that effect on him, especially when she's as needy as she is.

"Please."

Her voice is quiet, a whimpering and quivering mess. It's been a while since Harry last saw her in this state. He thinks he might want to take his time, or at least, as much time as he possibly can. He knows when they get home, she'll be a bit more with herself than she is right now. He wants to revel in the moment.

Harry traces his hand up her body, ruffling the fabric of her dress as he goes. He halts at her chest, palm over her tit and his fingers toy with the low neckline. Her doe eyes are staring up at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

He raises a brow, earning a nod. Harry doesn't bother looking around for any other passerby's. Instead, he tugs down the neck of her dress just enough to expose a breast and massage it in his warm palm.

The air is cold, causing her nipples to pebble hard under his touch. He takes it between two fingers; pinching, twisting. Y/N tries to fight back the need to arch her back into his chest, swallowing a loud whimper that threatens to escape.

Harry leans down, lips parted as he envelops the hard nub into his warm mouth. The sensation is heavenly, Y/N thinks. He's warm as he laps her up, hot tongue swirling and flicking across her nipple. She knows how much Harry loves sucking and licking at her tits.

Y/N's fingers tangle through his hair again, tugging at the roots and scratching at his scalp. A low growl vibrates through her chest due to her actions, which only makes her tug harder.

Harry's teeth graze across her nub, nipping tauntingly before pulling off with a wet kiss. Y/N blinks, watching him blow cool air against her nipple and a hand quickly flies to her mouth when a moan slips past her tongue.

His eyes are challenging, but a grin is wicked on his mouth. He finds it amusing to watch Y/N struggle to not make a sound. Harry knows how loud she can be, loves all the fucking noises that she makes. But Y/N needs to remember that they're not in the safe confinements of their home, so she can't be as loud as she wants.

She has to be a good girl. She has to be quiet.

The warning is evident in his gaze in the way he raises a brow and tilts his head ever so slightly to the side. It's a look she's all too accustomed with when she's been misbehaving.

Y/N swallows, pressing a kiss to his hand in both an apology and silent promise she won't make another sound. Slowly, he removes his hand and lets it trail back down her body, squeezing and rubbing at the expanse of her thigh before he's settled back on her clothed cunt again.

"If you don't wanna get caught, you gotta be quiet, angel."

She nods, quickly and eagerly. There's nothing she wants more right now than Harry's fingers buried deep in her cunt. He doesn't make her wait long. His lips are back on hers as he tugs her panties to the side, exposing her gushing core.

Y/N inhales sharply, Harry's middle finger swirling through her folds. She's swollen from excitement and anticipation, eager and desperate for him to just fucking touch her properly; the way he knows she likes.

Harry's thumb rubs tight circles on her swollen clit, a sharp gasp teetering off the edge of her tongue, but Y/N clamps her mouth shut before it has the chance to turn into anything more. He praises her silently, rewarding her with a kiss as the tip of his finger taunts her pulsing hole.

She's gushing, a slight tremble to her thighs as he probs tauntingly at her cunt. Harry uses one finger at first, pushing in all the way and feeling her velvety walls clamp around him. His middle finger stretches her better than her own, and he twists and curls against her spongy spot.

Y/N can't help her eyes from fluttering closed and rolling to the back of her head. Her grip on Harry's bicep is firm, likely carving half-moons with the blunt of her nails on his skin, but he doesn't care. He welcomes the hesitant sting and relishes in the way she clamps around him.

"So tight, Princess," he praises.

Her skin is warm, nipples still pearled and one peeking atop the low neck of her dress. Y/N hums, nodding ever so slightly but Harry sees it nonetheless.

He peers up, eyes hooded to get a look around them. His cock throbs at the sight of a family across the other side of the park — how they have no idea he's got his finger buried in his lovers cunt. He's fucking feral, clenching his teeth to control himself.

"Please," Y/N whispers out into the crook of his neck.

Harry hums, pulling a finger out and trailing it up to his mouth. Her is heavenly sweet, the sight causing pools of need to overtake Y/N's iris'. Harry sets both digits on his tongue, swirling it around his fingers to lick off everything she has to offer. He wants nothing more than to bury his face in her pussy and make her cum all over his mouth.

He supposes this will just have to do.

"Tastes like strawberries," he teases.

Y/N whines, throat tight. "Harry, you're gonna fucking kill me."

He grins, wickedly, and decides that's enough teasing for the both of them. It takes mere seconds for his hand to return between Y/N's quivering thighs, for his fingers to soak up her arousal and smear it around her pulsing clit.

It takes half as long for him to massage at her sopping hole, and ease two thick fingers in. She sucks him up, takes him so well that Harry's mind is keening. It's not like he hasn't had his cock buried in her recently, because he has. Last night and this morning. He's fucking infatuated with that perfect little cunt.

"Best fuckin' cunt I've ever had."

The praise goes straight to her head, just like it always does. Y/N steadily rolls her hips into his palm, begging for his fingers to travel deeper, curl harder and faster. Harry doesn't do any of that pathetic thrusting shit that so many men had done to her before. He knows what makes his girl tick; what she likes.

His middle and fourth finger are knuckle-deep in her pussy, languid strokes and haunting curls. She's squelching; noises so obscene he wants them looped on every song he ever makes. He can feel her arousal gush around his fingers with every curve and curl he makes, can feel her g-spot pulses against his fingertips the same way she can hear her heartbeat in her ears.

Y/N's grip on Harry's arm tightens, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. Her teeth are clenched, jaw locked in place and chest heaving for desperate and shallow breaths.

He knows she's close already, knows precisely how to have her coming in a matter of seconds. Her cunt is tightening fiercely around his digits, mistaking them for his cock that she's eager to milk dry. Y/N feels his dick throb and twitch against her thigh, lets a hand reach for him and squeeze hungrily at his length through his shorts.

Harry snatches her wrist as he picks up his pace, warning her to stop. She knows the rules right now. She doesn't get to touch him, not until they're home.

"Hands to yourself if you want to cum, baby."

And just like that, he fucks her cunt harder, faster. Harry shakes his wrist in swift movements, fingers curling sharper this time, scissoring her cunt open. His thumb rubs at her clit, applying a little more pressure than usual, but it's what she needs to send her over the edge.

He fucks her through the blinding orgasm, the hand around her wrist leaving to clasp over her mouth. She's a mess, completely blissed out in post-orgasmic aftershocks. Her body is convulsing, but that doesn't stop him.

Harry keeps going until he feels her start to gush again, and just as she's about to make a mess—squirt all over his hand and the picnic blanket, he stops.

Y/N's eyes are at the back of her head, gentle shivers of arousal still prickling her skin. Harry tenderly removes his hand from between her thighs and traces his fingers up her thigh, leaving a soaked trail in their wake.

He moves his hand from her mouth, gauging her reaction. Her lips are swollen, parted as a heavy breath slips past them. Harry thinks she's the sexiest thing he's ever laid eyes on and he's painfully hard at the sight of her.

When Y/N starts to blink, she's completely dazed. Harry is sitting upright, repositioning himself in his pants and cleaning her up as discreetly as he can with a spare napkin. Y/N can't even muster the energy to sit up, so she remains on her back, gazing at the cloud above. She feels like she's in fucking heaven.

Harry crawls closer, tucking her breast back into her dress properly and caressing the side of her face with the palm of his hand. Y/N nuzzles into his familiar touch, pressing a kiss to his wrist. He grins, pleased with himself at just how fucked she is.

"You're something else." Y/N breathes.��

Harry plants a loving kiss to her pouty lips and strokes the hair from her warm face. Birds chirp from the branches that span out above them, blocking them from what once was the scorching sun. A lazy smile finds its way across Y/N's face, and she turns to Harry.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "You wait till the girls hear about this one."

thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed it, please give it a reblog and leave some feedback, it means a lot <3

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles oenshot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff

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marvelslut16 · 3 years

Text

Idiots in love

Pairing: William ‘Bill’ Weasley x reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) has been in love with Bill ever since she met him their first year at Hogwarts. Will she finally tell Bill how she feels, like Mrs. Weasley hopes she will, or will Fleur and Ginny’s assumptions about (Y/N)’s love life get in the way.

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: Angst. Dumb asses pining after each other. Fleur, if she counts lmao. Brief mentions of death.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for months, I wrote it as a self indulgent piece since I can’t date Bill in Hogwarts Mystery and I wasn’t sure if anyone would actually read it. It's cannon divergent. Also, tell me if you want a part 2!

My first fic of the new year! Hopefully I'll be way more consistent and inspired this year. Thank you to everyone reading any of the fics I write, I love you all!

“Molly, he’s happy with her,” you roll your eyes at the older woman who had become like a mother to you over the years.

You met her at Kings Cross Station the morning of your first year, she helped you cross the barrier, your parents are muggles who are afraid of anything different. You were in Bill’s year, the two of you becoming fast friends on the train ride. Through your years at Hogwarts you two became inseparable, both becoming Head Girl and Head Boy together. You two always studied together, explored the castle together, went to Hogsmeade together, you did everything together. Well, except one thing, you didn’t fall in love together; you fell for him, and he fell for that foul, loathsome Emily Tyler and now Fleur Delacour.

You spent almost every Christmas Holiday under the burrow’s roof, along with most of your summers. The burrow was your real home, and the Weasley’s were your family. After you and Bill had graduated Molly and Arthur insisted you use their first names, both convinced you and Bill would finally get together. But that didn’t happen, you both went separate ways, barely even owling over the years. He went on to be this fantastic cursebreaker for Gringotts, getting sent all the way to Egypt. And you, you became the astronomy professor at Hogwarts, you thrived in the subject and Professor Sinistra transferred to Uagadou.

“But you’re perfect for him,” Molly nags. You loved the women with your whole heart, but she really needed to learn when to drop matters of the heart. Especially when the topic of discussion was set to arrive soon.

“Not everything works out how we want it to,” you sigh as you hand her a clean dish to dry, you had wanted to clean the dishes the muggle way. “Especially when it involves one's heart.”

The two of you are waiting for everyone to arrive, Arthur is picking the kids up from the train now that it’s summer holiday. You had apparated to the burrow after the students boarded the train, now officially a part of the Order. Dumbledore and Sirius are dead, but that just means that everyone needs to fight harder.

“I just want you to be happy,” Molly’s eyes are soft and sad as she looks at you.

“I am,” you smile through the lie. There’s a pop from the living room, assuming it’s just Charlie you continue. “I don’t need a man Molly, my students make me happy.”

“Mum,” the unmistakable voice of William Weasley calls as he walks towards the kitchen. “I have great news, Fleur and I are engaged! We want to get married this summer!”

You accidentally drop the plate you're washing back into the soapy water, causing some to splash your shirt. For a split second you see Molly’s face fall before she puts on a bright fake smile as she turns to her eldest. You refuse to turn and see him, you thought you had enough time to prepare yourself to see him again, but you didn’t. He refused to see you after he got hurt during the battle of the astronomy tower when he was in the hospital wing and ignored you in the few weeks following.

“Oh, wow,” Molly tries to come up with a response that won’t upset him. “This quickly?”

“I can’t take the chance, not now,” his mood is hard to read from his voice. He almost seems too defensive when he responds. “Not with everything happening.”

Your heart stops its thumping for a second, you didn’t realize it would hurt this much to see him happy. You want more than anything for him to be happy, but you also know that his mother and sister will never approve of Fleur. And he’ll never be fully happy because of that. But maybe you're wrong, maybe you don’t really know him. Maybe you never did.

“I can’t believe I signed up for bloody astronomy again,” you can hear Ron complain through the open window before Molly can respond.

“You know you love me,” you holler out the window as Ron and Ginny get closer to the house. They’re the only two at Hogwarts now, they’re growing up so fast.

“Yeah, yeah professor,” he mutters as he walks through the door before grinning widely at you.

Even though you had seen Ginny hours ago, the younger girl runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You laugh as she pulls back and makes a face as some of the soap suds transferred to her shirt.

“You just saw (Y/N),” Ron rolls his eyes at Ginny’s actions.

“Yeah but that’s different,” Ginny defends. “At Hogwarts I can’t talk to her about boys, or eat dinner with her, or ask for Quidditch tips.”

“I’m always up for talking about boys,” you grin down at the red headed girl. You laugh and apologize to Molly as Ginny pulls you from the kitchen and up to her room.

You don’t glance at Bill, you can’t. You’re too scared that all of the feeling you have bottled up will resurface with just one glance. You miss the way his eyes soften at your interaction with his sister, and how they trail after you as you get pulled past him. You sit with Ginny as she fawns over Harry for close to an hour, interjecting occasionally when she asks for your opinion. This is what you always imagined having a younger sister would feel like.

“What about you?” she asks with a teasing tone in her voice.

“What about me?” you laugh lightly as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“You and professor Snape,” she’s smirking.

“Severus?” you laugh before your face pulls into a disgusted look only Ginny can see. “We’re coworkers. Dare I say friends. And he’s a part of the Order, we have to at least tolerate each other.”

“Mhm,” she sounds unconvinced. “He smiled at you the other day! In the Great Hall, where people could see! He never smiles!”

“Ginny, we’re friends,” you try to get through to the stubborn teen. “Plus he’s known me since I was eleven, that would be gross.”

Before Ginny can respond there’s a knock on the open door, you turn around and see Bill for this first time in years. His red hair still falls to his shoulders, and he still has that fang hanging from his ear. There are scars down his cheek now, those and the fang make him look bad ass. Your heart stutters as your eyes meet his, the heartache that disappeared when you were gossiping with Ginny resurfaces with just one look.

“Dinners ready,” he says before turning and walking back down the stairs.

Dinner is loads of fun, the two eldest Weasley’s joining the group since there’s a small Order meeting afterwards. Dinner is full of Charlie joking with you, something you're happy about since Ginny wouldn’t be able to bring up Severus again. You ignore the giggles and the French accent that poke holes in your heart as Bill only pays attention to Fleur, who showed up at the Burrow when you were upstairs.

After dinner you agree to show Ron and Ginny some Quidditch moves you had picked up over the years, borrowing an old broom left behind by one of the other boys. Remus and Tonks appear in the front yard, signaling that the meeting would start momentarily. Ron thanks you as he continues to practice the moves as you fly to the ground. Ginny follows you, wanting to get a drink from the kitchen before it's closed off to the youngest two.

“Are you going to take his last name, or is he going to take yours?” she teases.

“Ginny, not now,” you sigh, not sure how to get it through her head that you have no feeling for the potions master without revealing that you’re in love with her oldest brother. You aren’t sure who’s worse, her or Molly.

“Alright, whatever you say Mrs. Snape,” Ginny wiggles her brows in your direction as you head for the kitchen.

“Mrs. Snape?” Severus’s monotonous voice comes from behind you two. Ginny’s eyes widen before she takes off running, and a strangled sound leaves your lips.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, that’s a month of detention next year!” you yell after her. You take a breath before turning to stare into Snape’s obsidian eyes. “Ginny saw you laugh at my stupid joke in the Great Hall a few weaks ago and now she’s convinced you have feelings for me.” Severus raises his eyebrows at you before looking in the direction Ginny ran off in. “She’s just a kid Sev, don’t hold her delusions against her.”

“Weasley’s,” he mutters before heading to the kitchen himself. Dumbledore had told a select few in the Order the plans for Severus to kill him so Draco didn’t have to, and since the Headmaster was already dying nobody was as mad as expected. “Don’t you have feelings for the oldest one?”

“Be quiet!” you hiss, as look to make sure no one heard. He smirks before walking into the room where the meeting is to be held, leaving you standing confused in the hallway.

The meeting is small tonight; Remus, Tonks, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Sev, yourself, Bill, and Fleur. The rest had prior engagements unfortunately, so it was essentially just family and Severus.

Molly uses her magic to pour you a glass of tea as you sit beside Sev, the only open seat. You smile a quick thanks before lifting the cup to your lips. The warm liquid soothing your tired throat, students liked to talk over you during the last week of school so your throat was a little raw.

“Do you want a cookie with that, love?” Snape’s monotonous voice is slightly louder than it normally is. The term of endearment comes as such a shock that you spit out the tea that's in your mouth, landing across the table on Fleur.

There was no denying that Severus’s question was directed at you, he’s holding the plate full of Molly’s cookies right next to your face. The room goes deathly silent as the seconds pass by. Ginny, who was getting herself some pumpkin juice, drops the glass she was holding, it shatters when it hits the ground. Molly, Arthur, and Charlie abruptly stop their conversation to stare at you and Sev in shock. Remus furrows his eyebrows as he looks between you two, Tonks looks like she's holding back a laugh. A flash of pain seems to cross Bill’s face before it goes blank, and horror crosses Fleur’s when your tea lands on her.

“I’m so sorry!” you cover your mouth, thankful the liquid wasn’t warm enough to burn. Bill doesn’t even turn to look at his fiancee, just stares at you.

“Are you alright?” Snape has a small smile only you can see. You aren’t sure how to respond, especially as you stare at the amusement dancing in his onyx eyes.

“I knew it!” Ginny yells, finally breaking the few seconds of silence, seconds that felt like years. You flick Sev’s leg under the table, and he has the audacity to grin larger.

“Thanks honey,” your eyes narrow slightly as you grab a cookie off the plate, passing it to Bill without looking away from the man in all black.

The rest of the meeting is awkward, and as soon as it’s over you pull Sev out of his chair and outside. The cool night air cools your burning cheeks and he lets out a laugh that he had been holding in.

“What was that?” you pull at the ends of your hair.

“We made your precious Weasley jealous,” even though he’s smirking, there’s no change in his inflection.

“And now they all think we’re together!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky.

“Good luck with that,” he disapparates before you can respond.

“I hate you!” you yell at the spot where Severus was just standing.

“You and Snape, huh?” Charlie’s voice cuts through the silent night.

“Not bloody likely,” you roll your eyes, before plopping onto the ground. Charlie joins you as you lay and stare up at the stars. “He heard Ginny saying she thought he liked me, and he knows who I like, so he decided to run with it. He’s actually fun when you break through his cold exterior.”

“You still love Bill,” it isn’t a question. No matter how many times you denied it while you three went to school together, Charlie never believed you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to look at him. He’s already facing you so you continue, “your mum kept going on about how I should be the one with him this afternoon. She won’t drop it.”

“I love my brother,” Charlie makes sure you keep eye contact with him as he continues. “But he’s being stupid. I agree with mum, you should be the one marrying him.”

“He’s happy without me,” your voice comes out sadder than you thought it would, guard finally down. “We’ve barely talked in years, and he wouldn’t even let me see him after the attack. He doesn’t need me, nor does he want me in his life anymore.”

Charlie just sighs, annoyed that neither you nor Bill could see the truth starring you both in the face. You love each other. Charlie just lies next to you in comforting silence, staring at the night sky until he has to head back to Romania and you off to bed.

A single tear slips down your cheek as you lay down in the bed that once belonged to Charlie. Ginny enters the room without knocking, and you quickly wipe away the tear.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” she practically screams.

“There’s nothing to tell, he was messing with you, Gin,” you look her directly in the eyes so she knows you aren’t lying.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she sits beside you on the mattress.

“I’m in love with Bill,” you whisper, finally saying the words out loud. Sure you had agreed with Charlie earlier, but you had never said the five words out loud before. It feels like a weight is lifted off your chest, until a new wave of heartache hits you. “I have been since we were in school, and it hurts Ginny. Fleur, she’s perfect, I couldn’t possibly compete with her.”

“You’re so much better than her, (Y/N),” Ginny grabs your hand, causing you to look up at her. “And he’s a fool if he doesn’t see that.”

“Thanks Gin,” you smile sadly, squeezing her hand before she heads off to her room.

“Zank you,” Fleur’s French accent is the first thing you hear in the morning. Ginny comes up behind you as you stand in the hallway, and puts her hand on your shoulder. Today is the day you forget about all of this foolish childish love you have for Bill.

Molly watches you closely as you sit down at the breakfast table, Ginny plopping down beside you. As you talk to the young girl about Quidditch over breakfast, a black owl flies through an open window. You roll your eyes as it plops a letter beside you, you give the owl some of your toast before it flies out of the window again. Ginny looks over your shoulder as you open the letter, the rest of the Weasley’s not-so-secretly watch you read it.

The letter isn’t anything special, just Severus letting you know that you had left a book at Hogwarts. You know full well he’s being his dramatic self, going out of his way to send an owl, just so he can say he was right. He even added a p.s, asking if Bill had gotten jealous yet. You laugh at the ridiculous question, causing Bill to excuse himself and walk outside. Fleur doesn’t move from her seat, causing you and Ginny to make a face at each other.

A few moments pass before you decide to follow your old best friend against your better judgment, but someone should check on him. He’s in the backyard pacing like a madman, running his hands through his long hair and pulling on the tips.

“Bill?” you ask softly. He whips around and looks at you, once again his face is hard to read. Your eyes, however, soften as soon as they see what Fenrier Greyback did to him. “What’s wrong?”

“You and Snape?” his voice is hard and cold. “He hated us growing up, and you just pretended that never happened and you're with him? He hated you!”

“It’s none of your business William!” your voice is high pitched, you’re angry. He doesn’t talk to you in ages and now all of a sudden he thinks it’s okay to judge your relationships. “We were annoying kids back then, of course he hated us.”

“You could do better than him!” his anger seems to rise at the use of his full first name.

“We’re just friends!” your voice is shrill, and you're sure everyone inside can hear you two clearly. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway! Severus was letting me know I forgot some of my belongings at Hogwarts. You have no right to judge who I choose to spend my time with and who I befriend, not when you haven’t tried to talk to me in years Bill!”

With that you turn and head away from the burrow, not wanting to face anyone right now. Especially any of the Weasley's, and most of all, Molly. Bill calls your name as you walk away from him, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. William Weasley has broken your heart multiple times since you met him, and you aren’t about to give him the satisfaction of watching himself break your heart all over again.

Part 2

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x mc #william weasley #william bill weasley #harry potter fanfiction #bill weasley x you #harry potter #harry potter imagine #bill weasley one shot #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley fanfiction

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streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Birthday Gift

Summary: If you told your younger self 4 years ago that you would be in a happy, long distance relationship with someone who lives miles away from you up till today, your younger self would have laughed at you. But here you are, 4 years later, happy and totally in love with the boy you met online after he randomly followed you on social media. But you've never once met him in person. On your 24th birthday, you were getting a birthday gift that you never thought you would receive so soon.

Theme: long distance relationship au, strangers to lovers

Genre: super fluffy

WC: 2k

Pairing: Bae Jacob x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This has been in my drafts for quite a bit so here it is. This fic is too too fluffy, even for me who wrote this. Cobie is such a sweetheart, I can't-... Anyways, I hope you like this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)

Being in a long distance relationship is difficult as it needs to have a huge amount of trust, understanding, discipline and a lot of reassurance. However, despite all the fights you may have due to miscommunications and most of the time just lack of physical affection, you still cherish and love your boyfriend very much. You met your boyfriend online as he added you on social media a few years back. You clicked on his profile only to see that he lived in South Korea.

He looks to be a professional dancer and also a full time student in one of the colleges there. Not to mention, super good looking too. However, you weren’t really expecting anything at that point of time only because you don’t really believe in long distance relationships. You’ve always thought it might be hard and that it will never last.

So you just accepted his request and followed him back. The next day, you were in class when you got a DM from someone. And since you rarely got a DM from any guys, you were surprised to see his username pop up.

You clicked the message after about 10 minutes or so to see what he texted you, thinking he was just another weirdo who wants to scam you.

His message said;

“Hello! I saw your account and I really love your content. I’m sorry if this is too weird. I understand if you don’t wish to reply.”

With that, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as you didn’t know why but you began to type your reply, “Haha thank you! That’s so nice of you to say that.” You hit the send button and a few minutes later, he replied. That’s when you began to chat with him for quite a while before he asked.

“I’m so sorry, where have my manners gone? I’m Bae Joon Young but you can just call me Jacob. And you are?”

You replied to him with a smile as your fingers tapped against your smartphone, “I’m Y/F/N but you can call me Y/N.”

Ever since then, you have been chatting with him over DMs for quite a while, just to see if you can sort of trust and be comfortable with him or not. It took you almost 5 months to finally add him in your kakao talk.

Both of you have already done both voice and video call which means you already knew how each other looked and you seemed to have grown your trust in him. Jacob seemed like a genuine guy as you found out that he was your age internationally. Months became years and both of you have already introduced your partners to your parents.

However, at first, your parents weren’t too sure about this whole long distance relationship thing. But they didn’t want to disappoint you so instead of asking you to break up and find a local guy, they let you carry on with this relationship if you believe that it would work. Surprisingly, it took your parents less than a month to get warm with Jacob as they finally got comfortable every time he video calls you.

It has been 4 years since you two agreed to pursue this long distance relationship as it marks your 4th anniversary today. You were just lounging in your room when Jacob decided to skype call you through his desktop.

You accepted the call as he smiled adorably into the camera and waved to you, making you giggle as you waved back. “Happy anniversary baby.” Jacob said.

“Happy anniversary my love. Where are you?” You asked.

“I’m in my dorm. Younghoon’s out with our friends.”

“Why aren’t you with them?” You pout.

“I wanted to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to, you could have called me after.”

“Don’t you want to see me?” He asked sadly.

“Of course I do. It’s just… I feel like I might be the reason why you may not hang out with your friends as often as you do.”

“Baby, listen to me. I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend, dang am I lucky to have you reply to my message 4 years ago. I never thought that we could actually last this long but hey, look at us now.” You smiled as you looked down at your hands, only to look back up and see him pout.

“I love you so much, you know that right? And I can never ask for someone to replace you.” He said, making you sigh.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You asked softly, making him chuckle.

“How I wish I could enter my computer screen and just hug you and kiss you.” He whispered, making you smile sadly, knowing that could never happen, or at least it wouldn’t happen any time soon. You continue talking to him until you fall asleep, making him chuckle softly at your figure. Looking at you through his monitor screen endearingly.

“Goodnight my sweetheart.” He said those last words softly before he ended the call.

Days slowly became weeks and it was the same routine again and again but neither of you were getting bored or tired from it. He would always reassure you that he still loves you and that he would never hurt your feelings in any possible way. It was your birthday that day and your parents had booked a restaurant for you to celebrate and have your birthday dinner with your family, like how it has always been for the past few years.

It would be you, both your parents, your elder sister and her husband along with your 5 years old niece.

You chose to wear a white floral blouse with a pair of denim jeans as you paired it with your heeled sandals. You were in the car with your parents, on your way to the restaurant when Jacob voice called you.

“Hello?” He said.

“Hi Love.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m heading to a restaurant with my family for my birthday dinner. What about you?”

“Oh wow. Where to, this time? I’m just out with the boys.”

“I honestly don’t know. They didn’t tell me.” You laughed as your mother then smiled and spoke up from the front passenger seat.

“Hello dear. How are you sweetie?”

With that, you scooted to the centre of the back seat and put your call on speaker mode. Just then, you heard Jacob respond. “Hello Ma’am, I’m doing well. I wish I could be there to celebrate with all of you.” Jacob said, making you smile sadly as your parents let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s okay son, one of these days, you’ll get to meet our daughter and us.” Your dad said as you could already hear a smile etching on Jacob’s lips.

“Yes sir. I hope so.” Your boyfriend said before you giggled as you turned the speaker mode back off before bringing your phone to your ears. “Hmm, babe I think we’re here. I’ll call you again after dinner okay?” You said into the line.

“It’s okay baby. Don’t worry. Have fun tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too…” You paused for a moment as he waited for you to continue.

“I miss you Jacob.” You couldn’t help but whisper as a tear rolled down your cheek, making him frown.

“Baby please don’t cry. Promise me you won’t cry.” He said, making you nod as you sniffled your cries.

“I’ll try.” You said as you then bid him goodbye before ending the call.

Your sister had already arrived as you and your parents went to the front entrance where a waiter was waiting. Your dad told him that they’ve already made a reservation under your dad’s name as the waiter checked his list and soon smiled at the three of you. “Right this way.” The waiter said as he soon guided you towards the back of the restaurant where there were private rooms with opaque curtains to block the view of those sitting inside.

You were walking last as you texted your boyfriend in the process.

Once you were at the booth, your dad asked you to enter first, in which you got confused but nonetheless did as you were told. However, the minute you pushed the curtains open, your eyes immediately landed on the one person sitting at the very end of the table nearest to the entrance.

You felt your whole body freeze as you couldn’t find the right words. He was there, right in front of you, in one piece. It was him. It was your boyfriend. He was really there physically. You couldn’t believe this.

“Wha- I- When… Omg… Omg…” You whispered as everyone laughed, only for Jacob to chuckle as he got up, making you feel so flustered.

“Happy Birthday my love.” He said, as he walked up to you but you were still frozen in shock.

“Surprise!” Your family said in unison happily.

You locked eyes with Jacob as he engulfed you in a hug. That’s when you began to bawl your eyes out against his shoulder as you could finally feel his arms around your body, holding you tight as though he was afraid of losing you. Jacob laughed softly as he let you cry into his shoulder, while he gently rubs soothing circles in your back to calm you down.

You had your arms wrapped around his waist securely, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear. “Shh, don’t cry baby. Don’t cry.” He whispered in your ear, only for you to cry harder. He laughed even more as your mother and sister were already tearing up at the side.

You pull away from him as he gently wipes your tears with his thumbs. “You’re here… You’re actually here…” You whispered, your breath shaky as he nodded, cupping your face softly in his hands. “Yes love. I’m here. I’m really here.” Jacob said, making you pout. Still unable to believe this was real.

Jacob smiled widely as he pulled you into a hug again, only for you to bury your face in his chest, feeling him draw lazy patterns into your waist. After nearly 30 minutes of you holding onto him and being in your own little bubble, the 7 of you finally settled down to celebrate your birthday dinner. After dinner was over, your parents offered Jacob to stay over at your family home for the next two weeks that he is staying here in your country before he flies back to Korea.

Jacob thanked your parents for letting him stay over as you couldn’t stop holding his hand. The way his hands fit in yours so perfectly as he showered you with so much love and warmth, just like how he did through all the video calls and texts.

That night when everyone had gone home, your parents knew that you probably wanted to spend time with him so they let him sleep in your room.

After both of you had already changed and were getting ready for bed, he pulled you onto his side as you rested your head on his chest. Jacob hugs you close as you tighten your grasp on his shirt. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he glanced down a little.

“I’m just so happy you’re here. I still need time to process this information.” You confessed.

Jacob chuckled softly as he whispered, “I’m really happy to be able to finally see you in person. This means so much to me.”

“Me too.”

Just then, the room fell quiet as you just looked into each other’s eyes, seeing the sparkles coating both your pupils as he gently caressed your cheek. Right at that moment, Jacob seemed to read your mind as he gently pulled you up a little. Without much words, Jacob decides to ask the one question that both of you had in mind.

“Can I kiss you?”

With that, you smiled shyly as you nodded. Jacob smiles in victory as he leans down softly to finally feel your soft lips on his and it has never felt so magical. Both of you took in this new feeling as he kissed you sweetly.

You spent the next two weeks with him, just making the most of your time. A month after he went back to Korea, it was your turn to give him a surprise visit as you managed to book a flight to Korea, asking for Jacob’s help to fetch you at the airport and bring you over to his apartment.

You stayed with Jacob for two days before surprising Jacob for his birthday party. Jacob did such a good job at taking care of you and making sure that you weren’t lost in Korea.

Despite the long distance, it definitely made you two grow stronger and gain even more trust in one another. It was a blessing in disguise that you accepted his request 4 years ago.

And you regretted none of it.

~~~

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz jacob #the boyz joonyoung #the boyz jacob scenarios #the boyz jacob imagines #tbz jacob #tbz joonyoung #tbz joonyoung scenarios #tbz joonyoung imagines #tbz fluff #tbz jacob fluff #jacob bae

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essaysbyciara · 3 years

Text

It’s Been A Long Time | Nebraska Williams x Black!PlusSize Reader [Part 1/?]

Warnings: language, smut thoughts (my ministry!)

So this has been in my drafts for a *HOT MINUTE* but that photo of Trevante in high school triggered a release. If people dig where it could be going, I will add it to my list of stuff to finish and open up a taglist. I’ll try my best to do so, I promise! lol

“God, I played this album out…” Lil’ Wayne’s seminal album, The Carter, didn’t age at all. Back in 2004, Wayne was a secret about to bubble over to superstardom, just years shy of lollipops and Static Major (rest in peace). Wayne represented the teenage angst of your time, even though you toiled in the suburbs while he wrestled with the streets. But as “On My Own” damn near explodes your factory speakers, a high pitch ping from your phone pauses your trip down memory lane.

Message from Sheena: Let’s catch up before the babies wake up.

You hit the call button on your dash once you stop at a red light.

“Girl, hey. You on your way to work?”

“Ain’t I always, Shi Shi? Damn near almost overslept. Thought I missed my flight.”

Sheena, or Shi Shi, is the epitome of a best-friend-forever. You two met in Ms. Grayson’s civics class, 11th grade. On the first day of school, you rolled into third period wearing a Scream Tour II t-shirt and if you were to describe Sheena in that moment, jealous wasn’t even the word. She stanned hard for Lil’ Bow Wow but her mom wouldn’t let her go to the concert because she got caught with a boy in her room. That boy is now the husband half-way responsible for the twin girls she’s hoping will give her some grace by sleeping a little bit longer.

“Damn. You wanna gift some of that sleep to these twins, God mommy?”

“Only if you gift me some of those post-pregnancy boobs, Mommy Dearest,”

“Can’t do that. Jarell been having too much fun with those!”

“Girl, eww. I don’t need to know all that.”

You kinda did. Sheena’s stories were always live, wild and uncut. And the only fireworks you’ve been adjacent to in months since you broke up with that lame stockbroker, Keith. You curve around the airport parking lot as Sheena starts digging deep into her latest soft-core episode with her husband since the six weeks ain’t up yet. In between interjections of how nasty Jarrell could be and watching planes taxi in the distance, you cruise through Instagram to take inventory of what your day might be like.

Managing social media for the biggest sports publication in the country was not the fulfillment of a dream after high school because, shit, social media didn’t exist when you were in high school. But it’s what has you just hours away from a flight to the NFL Combine in Indianapolis, sitting in a parking lot, listening to your BFF’s slow burn sexcapades. You break up the audio immersion experience once your timeline displays something else to ruminate over.

“Sheena! Shi -- shut up! I can’t believe - you remember Lisa from high school? She got married ...and it ain’t to Brasco.”

“Whaaaa… you can finally stop making u-turns in the hallway and snag your man!”

You didn’t appreciate the lowly dig from your friend about Nebraska “Brasco” Williams, star running back, track champion and boy so fine he made both Omarion and J-Boog look like ogres. Your high school crush had you shook to your pubescent core; pretty teeth, deep skin tone and two tattoos before the age of eighteen. You’d see him in the student parking lot with the rest of the football team and you’d rush to your car as if it would go home without you. He was too hot to handle. You were beyond envious that Lisa could.

“Lisa ain’t do too bad. Her man is crazy fine. I mean, not Brasco fine but still…”

“Man, he had high school going crazy. I wonder what happened to him after that fight? I should stalk him on Facebook while I pump.” You laugh so hard, the couple walking past your car stops their argument to stare at you.

Your laughs break once you realize you might actually miss that flight. You relegate Shi Shi to kiss the twins for you and to send his Facebook profile if she can actually find it. You tried years ago and failed.

“Aight, fave. I will. Love you. Text me when you touch down in Indy.”

As you weave through the terminal, your mind thinks back to the days at New Birth High School. While it brought you joy in a forever friend and the launching point for your forever career in sports journalism, it did bring you one of the most hurtful days of your life that took years to shake.

It was the summer going into your senior year. Lisa’s sweet sixteen pool party. No way in Hell you thought you’d be there but your Mom and Lisa’s stepmom sat on the same deacon board at church and somehow thought you two were friends; Lisa paid you dust in those hallways. You fretted over every part of your outfit, especially the swim shoes you didn’t want but your Dad picked up at Sports Authority. But you were fretting the most over your swimsuit, a red one-piece with a deep open back. It was sexy for a 16-year-old, to be honest, but you secretly tried it on at the mall and fell in love with it -- especially how it made you feel.

You fell in deep love with your body that day. The way the swimsuit clenched your waist, giving your almost-pear shape some definition you’d never seen before. Your hips sat wide, your breast placed taunt, just peeking through the sides, showing off a crescent shaped birthmark right below your collarbone. It was Jet Beauty of the Week-esque and it made you feel on top of the world. Something that society kept telling you a plus-size teenage girl was not to feel. You used the last of your paper route money to buy it and hid your secret weapon in the back of your closet until the day arrived. You were hoping to get some boy’s attention -- especially Brasco. But you’d take anybody’s glare if you could get it.

You were in the clear once your Mom dropped you and Sheena both off at Lisa’s back gate. As you walked into the party, the sounds of the local hip-hop and R&B radio station blasted throughout her huge backyard. So much fun was had -- so much splash and dash -- that the faint sounds of “Knuck If You Buck” failed to erupt a party full of teenagers it was made for. The pool seemed tempting in 90-plus heat but most of the temptation came from the jacuzzi next to it. There inside sat Brasco, his lanky on-field wide receiver sidekick Kenny and Jarell, Sheena’s partner-in-bedroom-bust crime looking delicious in their highlighter-color swim trunks. You were still figuring out your body and the reactions conjured up from the sight of water droplets chasing down their backs confused you even more. But the heat of the sun -- and the heat from your body -- got too much to bear. That pool called your name.

You stripped off your t-shirt and denim shorts, leaving your swim shoes back by the picnic table. They clashed. Your nerves splashed together like the water you couldn’t wait to feel, battering against your heart. Were you ready for all this attention? Amongst the rest of the classmates, you disappeared. You weren’t popular. People knew of you but didn’t know you, only associating you with Sheena by proxy of Jarell. “My Goodies” came on the radio, providing you a soundtrack and a sign from God. Before you could answer the call, Sheena jumped into the pool. You tossed your glasses on top of your clothes and did the same.

The water felt golden. Sheena smacked your face with sheets of chlorinated goodness. Too much fun was had by all, even Lisa joined in the fun. Suddenly the entire football team did too except Brasco and Jarell, languishing on the edge of the jacuzzi because like most boys from their side of town, they didn’t know how to swim. Lisa saw her boo in isolation and tapped Sheena on the shoulder.

“Hey, Shi Shi. Let’s get in the jacuzzi.” Sheena grabbed your hand to guide you out of the pool. You weren’t expecting to see your Mom at the other end. Sheena didn’t grab you to join her in the warm bubbles, she got you out at the angry-faced-behest of your mother. You both were going home. The party silenced and stares followed as everyone watched your walk-of-shame to grab your clothes. You got what you wanted in the worst way possible.

Your unholy exodus commenced when Lisa’s mom called yours to report what she saw: this red bathing suit too revealing for a little girl to wear. It wasn’t the green ruffled mess-of-a-bathing-suit from last year. She claimed to witness stares and whispers and “boobs hanging out, butt all out.” Your mom got over there quicker than a church shout. She waited to scold you after she dropped off Sheena.

It was a Sunday School scolding like no other. Tears pooled deep like the one you were just having fun in. You tossed the bathing suit into the trash bin. You were never going to see it again.

The announcement of your flight breaks you out of your day nightmare. Grabbing the handle on your suitcase, you see a text with an attachment from Sheena.

Girllllllllllll. I found Brasco and babyyyyyyyyyyy…

You gasp. Time did a wonder on him in all the right ways. He packed on even more muscle, chiseling out the navy thermal dressing his upper body. Teeth still bright, Moonlight-bright. His Omarion-Pandemonium-era braids were gone, now donning a clean fade with perfect waves. His stance meant business, a lot of it risky. You bite your lower lip to mask the “damn!” urging a release from you, staring at his picture so intensely that you damn near walk into the stewardess checking your boarding pass.

You couldn’t wait to get to your first-class seat. You needed a safe space to drown in your own splash waterfalls. You beg Sheena to send you his profile, looking to make some more of that mess and she obliges. Scrolling through his Facebook, you see nothing. You needed him to match your uncleanliness. Another text from Sheena breaks you out of your spell.

Ain’t shit on here though. I can’t find an Instagram or anything. That’s where the dirt is at lol

You put your social media skills to work. Ain’t an Instagram profile that you can’t find. Nebraska Williams brings up nothing. Such a unique name and nothing to show for it.

Maybe Jarell can follow him, Shi.

Jarell ain’t on this thing. He hates all this stuff. You want me to follow him?

Girl, yes! I need more pictures! I’m trying to find his ‘gram and no diceeeeeee. Ughhhh.

Damn the “no cell phone until after lift off” announcement. You then try “Brasco”, too many names -- rappers, really-- and a dog company to boot. “Brasco Williams” yields no results. You couldn’t wait what could be hours, days, weeks, maybe never, for a response from Brasco to Sheena’s friend request.

You pull up Google as a last ditch effort. The results bring up what only seems to be archives from your now-defunct city newspaper covering one of Nebraska’s record-setting games from 2005. You know to quit while you’re ahead until you see a Youtube video: “Nebraska Williams (RB) New Birth High School (MD). uploaded by Donyell Williams. You remember Donyell as this boy who played too damn much in Geometry class but right now, he’s Brasco’s cousin who's Instagram profile came up on the first search. Thank God his profile wasn’t private. You scroll back far enough to hit the jackpot.

I found it! @donniebrascowill is his Instagram.

Sheena was right about the dirt. His posts were bare but his stories carried enough. Enough shirtless, weightlifting, fresh-out-the-barbershop-got-to-show-you-the-fade dirt. You hit the follow button before the stewardess asked for your drink selection.

End of Part I

#trevante rhodes x reader #trevante rhodes x fanfiction #nebraska williams

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sevenmikento · 3 years

Note

Hello! May i please request a jjk hc or imagine where the mc is yuujis childhood friend that can see curses and has a powerful curse technique?? Yuuji knew since they were kids but kinda forgot about it cuz he didn’t really understood and mc never tried to bring it up again to keep him safe. And after coming to tokyo when the sukuna thing happened- yuuji recommended his bestfriend to gojo so they could study together. Thank you so much!! 💕💕

A/N: omg okay so i distinctly remember receiving this request while i was in bed reading angsty haikyuu fics and then i was hit with such a big brain idea for this that i made a draft of it bc i knew i would forget otherwise. also omg im so sorry but i made this a lot angstier than expected but it has a happy ending!! ;––;

genres: angsty with a fluffy ending, hurt/comfort; 1.5k words

come with me [Itadori Yuuji X Reader]

“You’re moving?” you repeat the words just spoken to you, unafraid to let the disappointment in your voice show as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver and the back of your eyes burn up in tears. “To Tokyo? So suddenly?”

As if the news couldn’t get worse: first you learn that Grandpa Itadori passed away and now your only friend is leaving. Not to mention the fact that in between all of this, your high school got wrecked in some kind of freak incident–though you know better… the school had always reeked of cursed energy. You’ve even had to deal with some cursed spirits on your own volition before morning practices just because you could never stand them staring at you from the corner of the volleyball court.

“Wow, is it just me or did it get a lot less stuffy in here?” you overheard your senior saying once. You wish you could brag about it, about your heritage and your accomplishments as a Jujutsu Sorcerer but you can’t, not without putting yourself and the people–the person–you love in danger.

“You’re my only family left,” you can’t help but blurt out, hanging your head in shame. Ah, you think to yourself, this is bad, I’m starting to beg, aren’t I? This is dangerous territory. “I thought we promised… we…” You stop yourself from completing the sentence but you both know each other well to understand exactly what you’re referring to.

Your parents had always told you to keep your emotions in check, to ensure everything you feel is always under your control. Cry if you must, be angry if you cannot help it, but never allow your heart to rule your head.

At least that’s what they used to say a lot before they ended up cremated in urns too heavy for you to carry together at the same time. You were ten.

‘I’m the only (L/N) left,’ you thought to yourself, unaware you’d spoken out loud. You were also not aware of the boy who’d just entered the room, dressed in a black shirt a bit too big for him, his cheeks covered in dried tears.

“No,” he huffed, sitting down beside you. “I won’t let you be alone. You aren’t the last (L/N).” He said, completely misunderstanding what you’d meant. He wasn’t wrong but ultimately, you were more worried about your Jujutsu heritage linked to the name rather than the name itself. “When we get married, I’ll take your surname.”

You said ‘okay’, too young to understand the significance of marriage. All you cared about was that he was there and you weren’t alone.

Yuuji remains silent, an immense wave of guilt washing over his body, leaving behind a sensation that is both hot and cold at the same time. Although you continue to cry silently, your arms still move, helping him fold his clothes and place them neatly in his luggage. Your hands tremble in a way he hadn’t seen ever since that fateful day so many years ago–the day of the promise… The one he will have to break.

He wishes with all his heart that he can tell you about the events that have occurred over the past two days. He wants nothing more than to just hug you to his chest and spill all the secrets he’s been burdened to keep: the existence of cursed spirits, the attack on the school… his transformation into the vessel of Sukuna. The execution. The compromise Gojou sensei made for him. The hell he’s chosen for himself.

When the white-haired Sorcerer offered the two choices to him and asked Yuuji to choose his hell, he very ignorantly assumed that hell was knowing when he was going to die. But now, as he watches you bid him a tearful farewell while you wear the sweater he left behind for you–knowing that, even though he promised to visit, he probably will not have the chance to–Yuuji realises this is the real hell.

“Yuu-cchi, there’s a monster!” you cried, hiding behind the boy who was merely a few months older than you, your small hands clenching tightly onto the sleeves of his shirt. He gazes around and sees nothing.

“Where?” he asks, his own arms held out in a defensive stance, ready to take any hit from any monster coming to hurt you.

“There! There!” you continued to sob in such genuine fear that even though Yuuji himself couldn’t see the monsters, a part of him knew you weren’t lying. Though, to be frank, even if you weren’t scared, he would’ve believed you anyway.

“Don’t be afraid, (Y/N)! I will keep you safe!” he declared, waving his fists around madly. “Where is he! I’ll beat him up!”

Huh.

“What’re you so deep in thought about?” Fushiguro Megumi’s voice snaps him out of his reverie, the defeated cursed spirit’s corpse dissolving into ash right before their eyes.

“Yeah, what are you thinking of?” Gojou butts in, wrapping an arm around Yuuji’s shoulders. “You looked all happy and dopey for a second then became all sad and depressed the next. Friendship problems? Or–OH! Relationship troubles?”

“No, it’s just…” Yuuji mumbles.

“I can’t sleepover this weekend.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“My parents want me to train.”

“Train?”

“Yeah, they’re teaching me Juju—Judo.”

“Eh? That’s too bad.”

“Just?” Gojou pushes, realising he’s very likely on the cusp of discovering his new student’s deep, dark secret. For a second, he thinks it’s to no avail but before he knows it, Yuuji’s grasping his arms and looking him dead in the eye (eye? blindfold?).

“I think there’s someone I need you to meet.”

“Oh?”

You curse under your breath as you hear footsteps echo from the floors beneath you. Right now? The stupid local delinquents want to explore this stupid building right as you’re on the edge of exorcising a stupidly strong cursed spirit? You can’t help but laugh humourlessly at your luck nowadays. It seems as though ever since Itadori Yuuji left your life, you’ve been doing nothing but exorcise spirits. Maybe you’re just bored and have nothing to do or maybe you’ve become a magnet for spirits with your increased levels of cursed energy.

“I’ll visit you when I have the time,” he said. But you knew he was lying. Just by looking at his dumb face you could tell he never intends on coming back.

A bitter taste crawls up the back of your throat and the cursed spirit cackles, elated by the frustration emitting off of you. You just know that if you could read its mind, it’ll be thinking of how powerful it could become by consuming you.

“Not a chance, you fuck!” you snap, feeling the familiar sensation of warmth crawl up your body as you harness all of your cursed energy to both your hands. Blue flames ignite from the centre of your palms, as you utilise your cursed technique: “Hinokagatsuchi!”

You charge towards the cursed spirit, ready to melt its skull into nothingness when a familiar voice calls out your name.

“(Y/N)!” Yuuji’s fist reaches the spirit before your technique can, the force of his punch so immense that it slams the corpse of your foe into a wall, forming a crater of shattered concrete.

“Hinokagatsuchi, huh?” A man with stunningly white hair walks into the room. “Haven’t heard that one in a while. “Are you from the (L/N) clan, by any chance?”

Before you can respond, a pair of warm hands clasp your face firmly but with a notable tenderness. The same hands that Itadori Yuuji used to kill a cursed spirit with a single punch now cradled your head, his thumbs carefully caressing your cheeks.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit? Are you injured anywhere?” he frets, his fingers combing through your hair before he pulls you close, hugging you to his firm chest.

From behind you, the white-haired man whispers: “actually I think your friend had it very much under control.” But he goes ignored.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve realised it sooner. I should have told you everything.” Yuuji presses his lips to the crown of your head. “I… I should have come clean and it would have spared us both the pain.” He laughs humourlessly. “I feel like a real dumbass, not realising what you’ve been hiding all these years even after I get dragged into the Jujustu world myself.”

Everything is happening so quickly, you find yourself rendered utterly speechless. Is he really here? Did he just kill a cursed spirit with a single blow? How did that man know about your family?

Your hands slowly creep up his back as you wrap you arms around him and close your eyes, relishing in the warmth of his body and the familiarity of his scent. He hasn’t even been gone for more than a week and yet you feel as though a lifetime of loneliness had been cured with just his return.

“I love you…” you can’t help but admit, though you have a feeling it wasn’t very much of a secret to begin with.

“I love you, too,” Yuuji replies, kissing you on head once more. “Come with me. Come with me to Tokyo, to the same Jujutsu school. Teach me everything you know and become stronger with me.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #yuuji x reader #scenarios #imagines #fluff #angst #happy ending #hurt/comfort

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incarnateirony · 3 years

Text

Someone dropped this in my submission box instead of ask box, “So I’m trying to genuinely understand what you’re saying is you understand corporate execs at the CW had a hand in the ending of supernatural? I’m not judging not attacking I swear I’m just trying to make sense of it because I had no idea about any of this up till now because I had stayed out of online fandom because well for years it felt big but anyways am I getting this right?”

---

The CW has a hand in everything. Here’s how this generally works.

The authors have ~relative~ freedom on a show. That is to say, the execs really don’t sit there splitting the nuances of the storytelling the fandom is receiving. They generally don’t even identify major markers that any of us would know (see: not even recognizing what the Roadhouse is.) -- we all knew the original ending had TFW at the Roadhouse as framed and spoiled by 15.04 among other details, and the whole “heaven/mental bar” theme from DSOTM, Nihilism, and Last Call all amplified this as an inevitability--but when you ask about “hey, is there a bar in heaven?” and get a “no?” that tells you they don’t even understand *ancient* plot beats like the Roadhouse, much less the ramifications of what it’s supposed to entail. Oh look at that, the roadhouse was just in fucking heaven like we said, but you identified it as a “cabin” because of filming locations and your basic notes.

Corporate has very basic compliance demands. They expect X, Y, and Z. What X Y and Z are across different shows vary depending on their markets. As long as the authors operate within X Y and Z, the corporate face essentially works off of synopsis of pitches and ideas.

This is also why I’ve talked about queer writing history and people being careful what they call queerbait: you don’t know what their X Y and Z are. The WB for example does not really CARE about representation. I’ve blogged about this often. We’re dollar signs. If they can package a new product to market it explicitly as LGBTQ fare, then they’ll turn you into a revenue machine by feeding you that particular fodder. When it comes to legacy shows--which is funny, because when the suit went off in my DM about this, they used the exact same phrasing as me--they’re going to play it safe, especially if they don’t truly understand the returns from the demographics they’re observing.

The space between X Y and Z is where the authors have liberty to push and, the longer and harder they push, the louder the content is allowed to get.

Here! I’ll even quote them directly, somewhat truncated because they ranted for fucking PARAGRAPHS.

“In reference to the media landscape, on a corporate level we do not distinguish fandoms. [...] That said, legacy shows such at Arrow, Supernatural, and even Flash are relics and we never really endeavored to reinvent the wheel on a corporate level, we are more focused on shows that are newer and still in our pipeline to premiere. [...] As for social media like all businesses and brands the engagement itself is key, but the content of the engagement is mostly irrelevant, though every show does have certain keywords that are often used in conjunction with harsher interactions blacklisted.”

The funny part is, they thought they were preaching to me like this was new information, but those of you that have been around my blog will PROBABLY RECOGNIZE this is almost VERBATIM exactly what I have told everybody over the years. Enough I half-suspect some trolls out there will think i wrote it myself and made it up and lob that accusation around. But there’s about 50 people that watched this conversation as it unfolded.

If you guys get mad? You’re still giving them PR. If you engage the content? You’re giving them PR. If you guys get bitchy ENOUGH? They completely blacklist a certain kind of engagement. I have literally been telling you all of this for years.

They don’t care who you are or what you want, just if you’re watching and what they at-best roughly estimate your demographic as desiring. So for example, Supernatural reading as a largely non-urban white demographic in its viewership, especially with a heavier lean in red states than most shows on the network, they presume to cater to what they perceive that demographic wants, rather than individualizing the understanding of the content, because they do not distinguish the shows or fandoms. “Oh, heavier republican white non-urban demographic” is where their understanding ends at, which is why they’re going to be utterly mystified why even my trump-voting republican neighbor from rural Alabama looked at the end result and went “what the fuck?” -- they weren’t expecting a big gay confession, but they were expecting a different sort of final tone.

Of course they’re never going to take that on for themselves and go “wow, we’re giant blazing dumbasses that understand nothing about the show!” -- they’ll, for example, claim they don’t leave network notes, when they’re still the ones passing material along about demographics and expectations etc etc. Their notes are *basic*. They do not leave *extensive* notes. Because extensive notes require extensive understanding of the content.

So for example: Berens spent since S9 slowly gaying up our show. Since they do not pay attention to the fine details of the story contents (lol no bar in heaven lolololol just a cabin lololol), he never got a note to *stop*. But it was not within the original structure plans and didn’t technically fit the demographic notes. The show continued to get aggressively gayed up, and Berens never really signed a note like “hey, I’m gaying it the fuck up” so even fandom reporters were going “THERE’S NO INTENT THERE!!!!!” -- berens operated in his very basic X, Y, Z landmarks to expand content within a story the suits literally do not pay the fuck attention to.

Corporate’s understanding is basic: dudes stabbing monsters and brothers against the world. Play in that box and keep these demographic notes in mind. You’re good.

They’ll NEVER mention blacklisting issues directly beyond what they admitted in the above quote but I DO remind you I have ranted ON AND ON AND ON how much Destiel fandom shot themselves in the goddamn foot with a fucking bazooka with the Chad Kennedy incident years ago. Others like Emily handled it intelligently to inform the *authors*. No, the network will never tell you if they blacklisted Destiel, but I informed you pretty heavily years ago that odds are, yeah, they probably fucking blacklisted Destiel.

Add in paying attention to the things Berens himself liked (if you don’t believe, scroll to Nov 5 on his tl)

Like, listen. berens knows exactly what he did and did the best he could do in the situations that were set up for him. And, frankly, I had been talking about this season as a writer room rebellion all year--just like corporate DID leave them a note in S11 that they couldn’t kill god. But if they couldn’t kill him or cage him, they would find another way. In 17 we said goodbye to Meredith and, in a way, to a MAJOR portion of Dean’s substantial story. In 18, we said goodbye to Bobo, and frankly all the parts that grew into queer Castiel that came with it. 19 and 20 became residual notes of hitting expected plot beats on the head on a rhythm, tying off godforces, and then just sliding into the Dabb subversion of them having learned to grieve, let go, and process emotions-- just the surrounding delivery left the feeling of more ~wanting~ on that front which is understandable.

But these are the kind of things people don’t even ~think~ about. This is WHY I’ve turned myself into a bulletshield protecting Berens’ work for YEARS while people yelled about queerbait not understanding the years of process he used in his unbabysat space to make something unable to dodge.