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vanteguccir · 3 days ago

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── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

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Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

795 notes · View notes

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months ago

Text

WE CAN DIP IF YOU’RE READY ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere imo), mild age gap (five years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach.

but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room; listening to the sound of the nearby sea. you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and foolishly wearing your heart on your sleeve.

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, pajama pants clinging to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

(suddenly, without mercy; a finality to his voice.)

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, all those years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture.

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking at you, looking through you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god; his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod, smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws a backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of pancakes on the kitchen table, sugary and sweet, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends.

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

… except they don’t.

the moral of the story is: satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was nineteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a naive little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

five years later, on a breezy summer evening, you step onto a bustling train platform with your luggage in tow — breathing in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look up at them, and then back down; everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers, peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades, the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you.

there she is. with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided, a yellow sundress and matching headband; sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other just a month ago — you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko…”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

”you’re still mad about that?” you match her expression, sulking. “it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards a familiar house, resting in the distance. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.”

(… ah. right.)

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb.

from within an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze, the buzz of an old radio spills out. when you strain your ears, you think you hear humming — gentle and sweet.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own. “good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”… i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off, muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own — leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice.

”i bet,” he hums. ”take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot, unable to properly look into his eyes. for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward.

one large stride towards you, as sudden as a lightning bolt, before he leans down to wrap his arms around you. squeezing your waist, with his biceps, not quite as tight as you remember his hugs being; you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can.

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen.

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly.

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves.

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.”

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a too-loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for the right words, brain tied up into fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, grounding, and all you can do is gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“… you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet, now. soft and sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. you love her for it.

but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating — but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament.

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.”

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm.

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat.

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?”

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes…

suguru.

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by... i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers.

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid.

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look.

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe.

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room.

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan flowing from his throat. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with a distinctly cold gaze, one you aren’t accustomed to seeing. you crane your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless. embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing. he was just looking out for you.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response.

“i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him?

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing, even though you’re anything but.

one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening.

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more — unable to help yourself — you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“… it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re five years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet.

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it’s dripping with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it, okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair with a gentle caress. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her.

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up. that your legs were long enough.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart, and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated, even if you’re completely delusional and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds.

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thighs, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable. he’s strong. very strong.

the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and, honestly, you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after another, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually… some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those printed white flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no,” he murmurs, softly, the slightest shake of his head. ”because i wanted to be prepared. in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something…” a sheepish little chuckle. ”i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep a steady hold around your legs. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy. i hope you can understand that.”

silence. then, a displeased huff.

“… you’re not some random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he stands a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet. satoru, your first love.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat. you’re not sure he heard you. if he did, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time.

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think, more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have.

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you. solemn, steady, a pillar of salt.

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking with the sound. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking, if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, and oxygen spills out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“… has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

now he’s just teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm; his voice set to a melodic lilt, as if tempting you to close your eyes. it’s summer, in a quiet port town.

and you adore him again.

that’s right, you muse, belatedly. loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t ever an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so. if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown yard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom — just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away; at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all, that’s it. that was always it.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts, unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off little ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right.

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you both. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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l-uminescent · 4 months ago

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˚⁀➷｡˚ KINSLAYER ━━━ AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM! READER

part two.

synopsis: rhaenyra’s daughter seeks revenge for the death of her beloved younger brother lucerys velaryon. and what better way to gain it, than from the man she was once betrothed to.

notes: did i steal daemon’s plot? yes. did the reader do it better? also yes. fuck aemond targaryen (who is 22 here) for killing lucerys fr, and fuck tumblr for making me repost this bc they shadowbanned me :(

warnings: reader is rhaenyra’s daughter, angst, violence, mention of blood, future hotd spoiler (battle above the gods eye)

word count: 3.9k

ONCE UPON A TIME YOU HAD THOUGHT YOU HAD KNOWN WHAT LOVE HAD FELT LIKE. being betrothed to none over than aemond targaryen in an attempt to ensure peace between the divided targaryen house, had gave you a sense of hope. the childish crush you had on the one-eyed prince had long exceeded into your adulthood (unbeknownst to you for a long while). and the news that you were to be married to the man you had felt so deeply for, had you thanking the gods that you were to be so lucky.

for much of your adulthood, you denied the feelings you had for aemond. brushing the giddiness you felt when you were younger off as a fleeting childhood crush. now, the crimson paint that adorned your cheeks you put down to a sense of duty; you had to act the blushing bride in order to do your part for the realm. your mother's constant reminders that it was you who could maintain the peace between dragons, made you believe it was a sense of duty to your house; to prevent the bloodshed and the path to destruction that would follow if blood was spilt. as time went on, you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that maybe, just maybe, the small minuscule crush you had on the prince, in fact never left. you often reflected on the times where you had lived in king's landing with your family, often choosing to spend time with the second son of the king. you two were inseparable, where aemond went you were sure to not be too far behind. often, challenging each other on who would learn the most high valyrian words in a day, and who would learn the history of their ancestors first. it was a match the gods intended.

however, this sue for peace had crumbled completely. only a mere memory in your mind of what could have been if the targayren house was not so ignorant to the fact that women had much of a right to ascend the throne (you had king jaehaerys to uphold much of the blame for this decision). and now, the house was at war with one another. the dance of the dragons was surely to follow, leaving nothing but war across the realm and your poor broken heart.

the death of your brother lucerys did not seem to help with the feeling of heartbreak that effected life upon dragonstone. you spent many days and nights cooped up in your chambers. there was no one to turn too. yes, you sought comfort with your mother but she too was a shell of her former self. with jacaerys many miles north in winterfell, and your husband the murderer of such an innocent boy, you were left with nothing but your own reckless thoughts. as the sun rose in the east and set in the west day after day, your pain and suffering festered into a new, dark feeling within you. the sadness within was replaced with a craving of utter revenge. the lovesick girl, eyes wide with care and awe was shattered, replaced by a woman no, a dragon, who would go to any means to avenge the cruel death of her sweet younger brother. the love you had felt for the man you once were engaged to disappeared the moment you had learnt what he done; marring any chances at evading the war that was surely to follow. you swore to seek revenge with fire and blood. in whatever means the gods meant it to happen.

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the small council met as the sun lays lazily high in the sky, providing the normally dark and gloomy room with a sliver of light that is often uncommon on the island of dragonstone home to dreary weather most of the time. you welcome the sun in all its glory, soaking it in as you stand next to your brother jacaerys as you listen to the squabbles between the men as they discuss the course of action to take next. small crescents dawned under your eyes, reflecting the many sleepless nights you have come to known. the tiredness you feel currently now and all throughout the days since luke's passing has become an old friend to you, one that is begrudging to leave. you tune out, the effects of another sleepless night and your lack of interest in the bickering that is beginning to fester amongst the lords and your mother is boring you. instead, your eyes are captured by the ball of fire that lay millions of miles away. you weren't all that religious, if it came down to it you preferred the valyrian or old gods in favour of the seven. but there was no doubt the glistening embers that rained upon the room was a good omen. you were sure lucerys was looking down upon you, he adored the few sunny days on dragonstone, and this brought a small smile to your face.

you hadn't realised just how deep in thought you were until your brothers voice broke you out of whatever hazy trance you were. despite tuning out, you had gathered the basics of the discussion - ser criston cole had set his eyes on rooks rest, and a dragon was needed to defend the castle. jacaerys' proposition to fly vermax was quickly shut down by your mother, deeming the boy as too inexperienced in battle and the dragon too young.

"i will go."

the words escaped your lips before you even had a chance to think them through properly. the feeling of revenge running through your veins was more than enough to spark this confident outburst. it had to be you who would go to rooks rest. you did not understand why this feeling was so apparent, whether it be the good omen in the sky, or the smile that had graced your lips for the first time in many moons at the thought of your brother being the one who sent it. but the need to take seat upon your dragon silverwing and fly to rooks rest settled in your soul as a desire you needed to fulfil. you knew immediately your mother would never agree to this, already refusing jacaerys to go meant there was absolutely no possibility she would let you go.

"no. you too lack the experience that is needed in battle. i will not lose another child to this war." rhaenyra's voice trembled slightly with the mentioning of lucerys but she held strong with her decision to not let either of her elder children fly to battle. the mentioning of luke only feeding the fire in your blood, the need to seek revenge for his passing.

looking up at your mother, you knew she had understood this as it was plainly evident on your face. alas, rhaenyra could not deny you had your mother's stubbornness and your father's strength. "mother, the entire council knows it is far too dangerous to risk the lives of both you and jace. queen and heir. send me, your grace. silverwing is used to battle and if war and bloodshed is sure to follow with the greens still bot bending the knee to you, then we must become acquainted with it."

her eyes softened as she gazed upon yours, you reminded her so much of herself in her youth. the fire that burned within you mirrored that of hers. the want to prove yourself as more as weak was apparent, when many men had deemed you fragile due to the gender you were born as, you felt the urge to prove them wrong, just as your mother had felt, still feels with the many lords at the council who still see her as the weaker sex. she knew you were going to fly to battle whether she permitted you leave or not. and with a slight of her head you knew her answer. her lilac eyes gazing into yours with such intensity you knew the message conveyed. be safe, sweet girl.

another voice a the council spoke up, one you weren't expecting to hear. your grandmother, rhaenys. "you must send me as well, your grace. meleys is no stranger to battle, like silverwing. two dragons will be better than one, if the greens decide to also send a dragon to battle."

you were shocked that your grandmother was to fight so willingly for your mother's claim to the throne but yet, the more you pondered the less surprised you were. she too was a woman who should have ascended the throne, the queen who never was, yet king jaehaerys passed over her claim as a count of being weak as she was a woman. gods you hated the man sometimes.

you were no stranger to the care of your grandmother. she knew straight away that her son was not actually your father, you were born a bastard, fathered to ser harwin strong yet she loved you nevertheless. just as coryls velaryon had favoured young luke, rhaenys, favoured you. your dark her reminded her much of her mother jocelyn baratheon and the way in which you clung to her as a child reminded her so much of leanor. she had grown to love you as you her, and refused to see you alone on the battlefield.

"come granddaughter, we have much to prepare." rhaenys spoke softly as your mother dismissed the council, guiding you with her hand on the small of your back. giving one last nod to your mother, you notice the look of such fierce love in her. the promise of suffering she would bring if you were hurt. yet, the only thing rhaeynra could do now is pray to the gods above that her only girl would return to her safely. and by the gods she did.

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silverwing was just as mesmerising as the day you claimed her at the tender age of ten and three. her silvery scales often reminded you of the stars that hung from the sky. glistening intently as you often sat at your window deep in thought. such a docile creature, you could not help but fall in love with her kind nature; a dragon who was most friendly to strangers. as you approached her now a small smile once again graced your lips. the she dragon bent down to greet you, pressing her snout to your hand in a sign of understanding. the intelligence of the dragon was also something that had drawn you to her, she was able to sense every emotion you felt. she had known you were grieving and did not hold it against you that you had neglected to visit her. instead, she blew smoke from her nostrils, and you could have sworn she wore a toothy grin. silverwing was glad you had returned to her.

flying your dragon had somewhat eased the dull ache that seemed to have made a permanent home in your heart. the ocean beneath you and the wind in your hair brought a sense of relief. this was home. you had miss flying your dragon across the realm, watching as the landscape beneath you changed from countryside, to villages, to oceans and to cities. it was freeing. as fast as she was, silverwing was no match for the speed in which meleys, your grandmother's dragon, flew. as she soared effortlessly through the sky, your dragon tried her hardest to keep up.

"don't push yourself silverwing. meleys is a fast dragon. " you uttered calmingly to your dragon in high valyrian, stroking her scales softly in a show of comfort. oh how you missed speaking the language too. "calm my sweet girl, it will be okay."

as you finally caught up to rhaenys, the two dragons held pace with one another as you surveyed the fields below. ser criston cole's army had been spotted approaching rooks rest. the elder women held your eyes. a message passing through the two of you to get this done as quickly as possible. and with a cry, meleys delved to the army, silverwing not far behind her

a mix of anxiety and adrenaline coursed through your veins. you were petrified at failing the mission and returning to your mother's disappointed face with the castle in the hands of the greens. yet the pure adrenaline of gaining your revenge from those who supported the man who usurped your mother's throne and took your brother urged you to keep going "attack silverwing." you called out causing the dragon to plummet to the ground to attack those below.

the field that was once riddled with soldiers was now nothing but flame and smoke. red heat from the lips of your dragon had engulfed almost the entirety of the battlefield. the flames below you were nothing of the flickering of the candles in dragonstone that brought you comfort. no, the flames you caused mirrored the emotion inside, the intensity of the anger you felt, the betrayal from the man you once loved to cause this amount of pain.

a sound you had not heard in a long time broke you out of your rage induced comatose. you froze, the greens had come for you. looking up, you recognised the gleaming golden dragon belonging to the usurper king aegon. sunfyre. your anger had only intensified at the man willing himself to fight against you and your grandmother. doubling around the castle, silverwing dipped her sharpened claws into the ocean's water, ensuring a clean cut against sunfyre before rising above the cliffs face, ready for battle. he was no match for that of silverwing and meleys.

despite the adrenaline within, you could not help but worry for your grandmother, as you watched the flames engulf both her and aegon as the dance begun. the women held a dear place in your heart and the image of her being hurt was enough to push you to attack the sun kissed dragon. flying to meet your grandmother, silverwing allowed herself to flip and glide between the flames aimed at you both. the bellows of aegon left a satisfying smirk upon your lips as meleys claws took hold within the belly of the enemy dragon, as you willed silverwing to attack the dragon's wings from above. clawing and scratching at sunfyre, silverwing and meleys both have seemed to have done immense damage to the golden beauty. chunks of the dragons wings had been ripped out and cuts adorned her body, red blood oozing out of her scales. the final blow had been dealt by your grandmother, yet war was far from over as a sickening roar had been heard beyond the trees.

aemond taragaryen had come out to play.

your breath hitched, letting you only to take only shallow breathes as vhagar descended from the trees. you tried to be brave, tried to hold back the tears that were evident in your glassy eyes yet you couldn't. tear drops sprung like rivers cascading down your terror-stricken face as you saw the shining silver hair of the man who had once been the love of your life, and subsequently the reasoning behind all your pain. wrapping the leather reigns that kept you in control of your dragon, you urged her to continue flying around rooks rest. the wind blew harshly as you circled the ashy landscape, drying your tears and making whatever was left stick to your reddened face. as vhagar descended upon the battle in the sky, hought's swam through your head as you shouted at your dragon to attack, you wished away all feelings of dread.

in that sliver of calm, you could not help but feel drawn to the sun as it had once again graced you with its appearance. and with lucerys velaryon looking down on you, you knew the gods wanted you to have your revenge in that moment. they had brought aemond to the battle for a reason after all.

flying up to sit side by side with rhaenys, you allowed the hatred in your heart to take over. the fire in your blood burned at the audacity for aemond to dare show his face after all that he had done.

"it has to be me grandmother." you shouted over the howling winds in high valyrian. the distaste within had spoken clearly, it had to be you who destroyed the man in front of you. you knew rhaneys understood that, but you also knew she carried the same stubborn nature that all targaryen's had come to possess. plowing into vhagar first, it was obvious she was no match for the queen of dragons. sending waves of fire to the boy riding her, melyes took the moment of distraction to tear at the beast's stomach.

unbeknownst to you, sunfyre had risen again at the sound of vhagar's approach. seeing the flame grown in the dragon's mouth, rhaneys abandoned the attack on the larger dragon, instead focusing on the dragon mere inches from you. ambushing her from the side, meleys' jaws clamp around the neck of the usurper's dragon. in a state of shock, you forced silverwing to the side, gratefulness gracing your features at your saviour.

nonetheless, it was plain to see that both meleys and silverwing did not hold enough power to over through the two dragon's that had come to fight. with rhaenys preoccupied with the second coming of sunfyre and aegon, it had left you with the battled against vhagar. having lived centuries you knew that you were no match for her. she had helped with aegon the conqueror's conquest and that alone had gained her much more experience in battle than your dragon would ever come to know.

reality kicked in like a knife to your stomach. understanding what you had to do sent shivers down your spine, but there was no other way. to kill the dragon you must kill the rider.

your mind flickered back to the many moments you had spent with aemond over the years. sneaking into one another's chambers at night to tell stories you have read in history books. the days spent in the garden giggling at the idiocy of your family. and as the two of you got older, you recounted the longing gazes in one another's directions, the stammering and blush that rose to your cheeks anytime he was near. the brushing of limbs at the feast as your grandsire had announced the betrothal.

none of that mattered now. he had made his choice when he decided to slay his kin and you had made yours.

gazing upon silverwing properly for the last time you spoke quietly "forgive me, comfort my mother when i am gone. i beg of you." the silver beauty squeaked in return, a note of sadness in her tone. she would miss you just as much as she missed queen alyssane, but she would honour your choice gallantly. "fly back to dragonstone when i am gone. i do not wish you to suffer the same fate, my love."

with your mind made up, you willed your dragon to fly to meet aemond and vhagar taking in a shaky breathe as you did. as silverwing glided through the air, her claw's tore through vhagar. nevertheless, the silver beauty had barely left any damage. vhagar's thick skin was almost impenetrable, only small surface wound were left behind from the attacks you inflicted on her. the only thing that kept you alive was your dragon's ability to stray so close to vhagar yet slip effortlessly beyond her reach whenever her jaws made an attempt to kill you both.

allowing silverwing to deal with vhagar, meant that you were left to deal with her rider; your glassy eyes never leaving the man who had caused you such suffering. he had grown you noted, his cheeks now hollowed out as if he has been struggling to eat, a dark crescent clear under his one good eye. the hate in your heart weakened, you had almost felt an ounce of sympathy at his obviously heartbroken state. you wondered if he had regretted his actions; had regretted pushing you away. you wondered if he blamed himself for what had happened that night, if he had really meant to kill luke on purpose. but you also knew you would wonder these things for the rest of your life if you let him live. no matter how much remorse he truly felt within you could never forget his actions, the way in which he took pride in what he did, bragging about being the first to spill blood in this horrific war. and that was enough for you to keep fighting.

pulling away from vhagar for a final time, you flew back around the castle unstrapping the saddle you had on silverwing, tossing it to the wind. unstrapping the sword, daemon had given you from your twentieth name day, you held it in your palm with such force that your knuckles began to whiten. as silverwing set her sights on vhagar once more, a final sound of pain came from your dragon as she knew what you had planned to do. knowing there was no way in changing your mind she flew above the dragon and its rider, positioning you perfectly in what you aimed to do.

holding onto one of the many talons in her back, you allowed yourself to stand upon your dragon's back, the sword still tight in your hand. your eyes had never left that of the icy lilac that sat below you. the mix of fear and understanding stood in his, as he knew what you were about to do a second too late. the shock of realisation came as he tried to unfasten the straps that kept him tied to vhagar. she was too big of a dragon to move in time for what you were about to bestow upon the targaryen prince, and it was too high of a jump for him to survive.

jumping from your dragon's back you let your mind to once again reflect all the love you had for aemond taragaryen. allowing yourself to find comfort in the fact that you had known love in your lifetime.

and as you drew the sword through him, you felt no remorse. a debt had been payed. revenge had been served. for luke.

but, there was no escaping the torment your heart inflicted upon you in the moment your sword pierced his only good eye. you had thought aemond would hold loathing at what you had done in his final moments, but all he felt was abhorrence for himself. driving you to the point of sorrow and grief where you had felt like you could do nothing more than seek revenge for what he had done. whispering a soft "i love you'' before you had pierced him, gave you the closure you had needed. those three words had answered all the questions that had played over and over in your mind, running rampant through your darkest hours.

the history books recalled that you had died peacefully with no call of a dragon to save you. you had plummeted to the ground with the man you had loved, knowing you had avenged your sweet innocent brother lucerys and had come to learn aemond had regretted his actions dearly. this was truly enough for you to die happily. and that you did.

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donatellawritings · 8 months ago

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Would you ever do a part 2 to sweetheart reader and rafe’s breakup? I wanna see how they get back together 🥰

it had been about three months, since rafe had let you go, his oh-so doting sweetheart, the apple of his very eye. with the news of rafe cameron no longer having his latin sweetheart under his arm spreading around the island like a rancid wildfire, it didn’t take long for rafe to find himself regretting his decision. but make no mistake, rafe had made it his business to keep a watchful eye on your every move, and making sure to remain undetected while doing so. i mean, at the end of the day, you would always be his sweet girl and what kind of a man would he be, if he didn’t watch over you.

and sure, it took you a few weeks to find your footing as a now single and absolute knockout of a woman, yet you stood your ground — remaining tooth-achingly sweet to everyone who came your way, even when you’d politely reject their shameless advances towards you. and boy, did you make rafe’s sick little heart swell with pride as you made sure to keep a piece of him around you at all times, your gifted tiffany & co tennis bracelet constantly glinting against the north carolina sun with each passing day.

but, you were always such an emotional and overly-sensitive doll — and today just happened to be one of those days where you couldn’t seem to get your papi, rafe out of your pretty little head.

“i just — i want him with me!” you sobbed, streaky and watery black tinged tears rolling down your blush and concealer-enhanced cheeks as you pursed your puffy lips into a tearful pout, “he’s supposed to be mine!” you whined, your swollen tits stretching and heaving against rafe’s prized collegiate t-shirt as you took hiccuping breaths.

you poor cousin, kiara could only take so much of your incessant sobs and heartfelt rambles, until she’d taken the liberty of personally contacting rafe, a task that she wouldn’t even dream of doing, if it were for any person, aside from you, her doting and oh-so lovesick cousin.

you see, today was supposed to be a simple sleepover, the two of you had made it a tradition to spend one night together, where you could catch up on the latest gossip, prance around in nothing but pathetically poor excuses for panties and oversized t-shirts, while pampering each other with messily applied clay face masks and smeared mani-pedis. and sure, kiara missed those cherished moments with you, but she was painfully aware that you had been keeping up a facade since the moment rafe brought you back home. and she had to give you credit for it, you made it a point to keep your cool in public, you didn’t want to be a bother so you maintained your doll-like appearance and poise mannerisms.

yet, she couldn’t ignore the way you cried yourself to sleep at night — the walls that separated your bedrooms were far too thin.

it didn’t take long for rafe to respond to your concerned cousin — and it was crystal clear to him that it was time to bring you back home. the anxious young man had paid his dues, hell, the pain of not having you around was nearly enough to have him cave after the first twenty-four hours of him breaking things off. but, he had to make good on his promise — he had to become a man, not only for you, but for the sake of his own sanity, or what was left of it.

after about fifteen minutes of you struggling to put together a coherent sentence, you rubbed the tip of your button nose, with a defeated sniffle, licking over you dried lips as you wiped your watery bambi eyes with the back of your hand. you had cried yourself to exhaustion, your pretty little head throbbing from your hysterics as you dozed into a light sleep. you were so out of it, you didn’t even realize that kiara had left your bedroom.

rafe was careful with his footsteps as he entered your bedroom, dressed in a crisp button-up and ironed slacks as he sighed at the sight of you sound asleep. his bright blues didn’t miss the streaks of dried tears that clung to your cherub cheeks, your swollen lips slightly parted as crouched at your bedside, a soft smile on his pink lips as he ran a gentle hand over your messy hair.

letting his greed get the best of him, rafe pressed his eager lips to the apple of your cheek, his fingernails lightly scratching at your scalp as he soothingly lulled you out of your sleep, “hi, baby,” he mumbled, loud enough for your doe eyes to widen as your lips pursed into a wobbly pout, warm tears burning at your waterline.

bringing your small hand to knuckle away the troublesome tears that threatened to spill, you let out a needy whimper, “m-missed you,” you mewled, wispy lashes now clumpy with tears.

“hey-hey, c’mon mama, please don’t start cryin’,” rafe breathes out, pulling your hands away from your flushed face as the two of you finally lock eyes for the first time in months, “fuck — m’so sorry, my princess,” rafe sighs, each and every ounce of his resolve dissipating as he brings your knuckles to his lips, peppering soft kisses to the bony skin.

biting down into the fat of your bottom lip, you leaned up towards rafe, nudging his nose with yours, “can we go home,” you mutter, allowing your palms to cradle both sides of rafe’s chiseled face as his hold on your fists drop to your wrists, “w-we can talk about everything later, i just- i just missed you, papi,” you assure rafe, a soft smile tugging on your lips as he raises his glazed eyes to meet yours.

“yes, baby, we can go home,” rafe’s shoulders soften, his forehead leaning flushed against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “i kept my promise, baby — i kept my promise,” he speaks, more so to himself than to you as you nod at his words.

rafe deserved to be heard, and you’d always be a listening ear for him.

“i stopped using, a-and i got that boat y’liked so much, i got it just for you, mama — gonna take you wherever y’wanna go,” rafe rambles, leaving you a smiley mess as you simply gaze into his eyes with nothing, but naive love and adoration, “m’gonna be home more, and i—” rafe continued, getting lost in his own thoughts.

“i love you,” you cut in, a giddy smile now playing on your pretty face as rafe can’t help but blush at your words.

“i love you too, let’s go home,” rafe brings his lips to your forehead, allowing his tired eyes to flutter close as he soaks in the kiss for a moment, taking the time to breathe in your smell.

bringing your legs to hook around his waist, rafe keeps a secure hand over your ass as he carries you out of your bedroom, making sure to send kiara an appreciative nod as the two of you exit the home. it didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, once you were secure in the passenger seat of rafe’s truck, soft snores leaving your parted lips as your soft cheek remained mushed against rafe’s firm shoulder, your hand securely interlaced with his.

rafe couldn’t ignore the way his eyes kept flickering down to your empty ring finger, his heart swelling at the mere thought of him finally having you all to himself, forever.

and he wouldn’t fuck it up, this time.

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #sweetheart!reader

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theangelcatalogue · 8 months ago

Note

Where is the island of the love sickness can you put them in order for me please :)

Order of the 2 chapters that haves for now!

- ✦ -

Prologue!

First victim!

- ✦ -

I am making a masterlist for it! Also i am writing the next three victims!

Hint of one of them: Let them drown.

#hello :3 #island of the lovesickness #IOTL #yanderes #ty for the ask <3 #ty for the ask!#yandere iots #iotl #total drama au #yandere total drama x reader #yandere tdi

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miiyas · 7 days ago

Text

osamu turns his body to face you in the dark room of your shared bed, a frown etched on his face as he wraps his beefy arms around your waist.

“‘yer stomachs growlin’.” he states, breathing in the scent of your lotion that lingered gently on your skin from after a warm shower. you hum tiredly as your thumbs doom scroll across your phone, the lights highlighting your face gently. from your lack of response, your husband sighs and sits up on the bed, tossing the covers away from his side, grabbing your attention away from your phone.

“‘samu ? where’re you going ?” you put your phone away from your face slightly, eyes wide and confused at the sudden action. you see osamus shadow tap the lamp on from beside the bed and run a hand through his bedhead, feet shuffling out of the bedroom without another word to you.

“‘samu ? dude, what are you doing ?” with the sudden ‘dude-zoning,’ you can hear his voice call from … the kitchen ..?

“are ya feelin’ somethin’ light or heavy ?” he calls, causing your brows to furrow in confusion as you slip out of bed, placing your phone down on the mattress. you tiptoe to the kitchen, seeing osamu having his head popped in the fridge. you couldn’t help but stifle out a laughter, the sight of your husband in nothing but a simple shirt and boxers tickled your tired, hazy mind.

“what in the world are you doing, ‘samu ?”

“yer stomach was growlin’ since we got into bed.” he mumbles, picking up a carton of eggs and counting how many was left before placing them down again. “you feelin’ pancakes ? i can make the meanest pancakes, y’know.”

you sigh out a chuckle before moving over to the small dinning table, bringing your legs up to your chest to keep a bit of warmth in your body from after leaving the bed. “i know, ‘samu. i’ll have whatever’s easier.”

“alright, pancakes then.”

osamu pulls out the carton of eggs again and a stick of butter, pushing them on the kitchens island before closing the fridge to find more ingredients. you eye your husband roam around, your eyes fluttering as you drift in and out of consciousness as a soft, content smile lies gently on your lips.

it’s okay, though. because you know that osamu will wake you up when your stack of pancakes are hot and ready. he’ll give you a big kiss on your forehead before sitting beside you, resting his elbow on the table as his head props up with the support of his big hand, a lovesick smile drowning out any sleepiness in him.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyu x you #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #osamu x you #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x you #atlas writes !

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roosterforme · 4 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your expectations are absolutely shattered when you get to North Island with your class and find out you're going on the field trip of your dreams. Bradley pulled all the stops, and if he wasn't already, he was about to become an absolute legend in your classroom.

Warnings: Fluff, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You took Bradley's breath away every time he saw you. Even when he was standing tall between Maverick and Cyclone, it made no difference. He was reduced to a lovesick wreck when you walked down the stairs of the school bus with your students in tow.

"Well done," Maverick muttered, and Bradley felt his cheeks grow a little warm. You looked incredible in a pair of jeans and a plain top, but the look was really completed by the lanyard around your neck with the visitor's pass with your name on it. He'd work on getting you a permanent pass so you could stop by whenever you wanted. God, he was a mess every time he thought about the future.

When you smiled directly at him, he knew he'd take the reprimand if it came; you wanted him to kiss you right now, so he was going to. "Welcome to North Island," he told your kids with a grin. Then he looped one arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you in front of everyone. "I can't wait to show you everything."

You made a soft sound when he released you, and your eyes darted from Maverick on his right to Cyclone on his left. "Thank you for having us today," you said a little breathlessly, biting your lip. You were flustered. He made you that way, and he loved hearing it in your voice.

"Fourth graders," Bradley called out. "This is Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson. They both outrank me. By a lot. Let's all give Admiral Simpson our attention."

"Welcome," bellowed Cyclone in his stern voice, and Bradley watched the kids fall in line silently. "This is an active military base. It is important that you remember that fact while you're visiting today." Half of them looked scared while the other half looked excited beyond belief as he said, "The last thing we want is an injury, or worse. Stay with your group. Stay near your teacher. Never go off alone." A very stiff smile appeared on his face as he said, "But have fun."

Bradley cleared his throat. "Thank you, Admiral Simpson," he told the other man, saluting him. Then he addressed you and your class again. "Does anyone have any questions before we get started?"

When Violet's hand shot up into the air, Bradley pointed to her with a smile. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, how many different kinds of jets are we going to see today? And do they all fly at the same speed? And can you help me solve a math problem that I thought of on the bus?"

"Well," Cyclone said, looking pleasantly surprised. "These children sound like aviation experts."

Bradley noticed how your smile grew as he said, "That's because their teacher is incredible." He kept his hands at his side instead of flinging his arm around your shoulders like he wanted to as he nodded toward the hangar. "To answer Violet's question, we will see three different kinds of aircrafts and get to sit in one of them."

"No way!" Oliver said in excitement. "Do we get to sit in your jet?"

Bradley winked and said, "You'll just have to wait and see."

He and Maverick led the group into the busy hangar, the kids trailing along single file as the chaperones brought up the rear. He positioned you in the middle of the group, because nothing was more important today than keeping everyone safe. He pointed out the EA-18 Growler and the E-2 Hawkeye before some Super Hornets came into view.

"Who wants to see Marty work some of his mechanical magic?" Bradley asked as soon as he saw the tarp on the ground where there were engine parts lined up like a surgical procedure was about to take place. Every child's hand shot up into the air, and he chuckled as you and the three chaperones all enthusiastically raised yours as well. "I have some good news. We get to watch while he rebuilds the engine mount and part of the intake manifold on my colleague's jet."

"Phoenix," Jayden read, pointing to the name emblazoned on the side. "That's a cool call sign."

"It's an even cooler pilot," said Natasha as she peeked around the workstation in her flight suit. "You must be the pen pals," she said with a smile. Bradley watched her wave to you, and he'd have to remember to make a comment later about how his best friend finally saw you with pants on.

"It's a woman," Violet said in complete awe. "She's a pilot."

"The best of the best," Nat replied. "You can all call me Lieutenant Trace or Phoenix. Oh! Here's my backseater, Lieutenant Floyd."

When Bob strolled around the workstation and waved to the kids with a smile, he said, "I'm Lieutenant Floyd, but my call sign is Bob."

"He has glasses!" gasped Henry. "Like me!"

Bob gave him a fist bump on his way to the rec room. "I sure do. You can fly with glasses."

"Wow."

Bradley watched all of the kids staring at him, Nat and Bob like they were the absolute coolest adults to ever exist, and maybe they weren't wrong. But they had to know they were in the presence of someone just as fascinating on a daily basis. "You all have your teacher to thank for sparking such an avid interest in aviation in your minds. She probably knows just as much as we do."

Your eyes went wide. "I'm sure I don't," you muttered glaring at him playfully. "Is that Marty? I recognize him from your deployment videos."

When you nodded past Bradley, he turned to see his favorite mechanic stroll back into the hangar with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Hey! It's the fourth graders!" he greeted. "And their teacher who I heard so much about when I was deployed with Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Did he now?" you asked softly as Bradley gestured for everyone to move in a little closer to Marty's tarp. The mechanic was showing the kids where they could sit on the floor while he grabbed some folding chairs for the chaperones, but Bradley discreetly wrapped his fingers around your hand to keep you next to him.

"Come on, Gorgeous," he whispered, keeping his eyes on Marty as he leaned a little closer to you. "I was smitten with you right away, and I was very lonely. That man heard more than his fair share about my crush on the fourth grade teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary School, that's for certain."

You let your fingers tangle with his as you said, "You're too charming for your own good."

---------------------------

Other than Marty talking his way through the repair he was working on, you could have heard a pin drop. Your students were sitting with rapt attention, and so were the chaperones. You were standing a little bit off to the side, trying to hold Bradley's hand without anyone noticing, but you were pretty sure Captain Mitchell was onto you.

"Who wants to feel how heavy the crankshaft is?" Marty asked before he started passing it around to your excited students.

"Mine's heavier," Bradley whispered next to your ear, and you tried to fight the smile that threatened your lips. "But you already know that."

You elbowed him in the side as you watched everyone around you having the time of their life. Marty let everyone try their hand at tightening a bolt to Naval standards, then he laughed and pulled out a hydraulic machine to take care of it. Once the engine components were all in place, he let your kids try to pick it up before he informed them that everything put together weighed over five hundred pounds. He lifted the engine using a huge hook while everyone cheered like he was performing a magic trick, and then he posed for a photo with everyone.

"I can't thank you enough," you told him, shaking his dirty hand after he tried to wipe it on his jumpsuit. "My kids were just as excited to meet you today as they were to see all the jets. You're a bit of a celebrity in my classroom."

The older man blushed and smiled down at the tarp at his feet. "Well, ma'am, that's just the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

You hadn't even mentioned it to Bradley let, but as you released Marty's hand, you asked, "Is there any chance you would consider visiting my school for career day to give a five to ten minute presentation?"

"Oh," he grunted, his blush deepening. "The stuff I do isn't as interesting as the aviators."

"It is," you insisted. "My kids were hanging on your every word. I could pass the information to you through Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

He kind of shrugged and grinned at you. "I'll think about it."

When you nodded and turned away from him, you found that Bradley had lined your class up again, and then he started leading them to the cafeteria for lunch. "I need you to help me make a definitive ranking of all the menu options," he told them. "This is some very scientific stuff."

"Is there meatloaf?" Nia asked.

"Every day," Bradley promised.

"What about the cabbage rolls that you said were yucky?" said Oliver as he bounced along.

"Only on the aircraft carriers," Bradley informed him. "You all lucked out on that one."

He had each of you scan into the cafeteria with your visitor's badge, and then he nodded toward a long table with RESERVED signs on it. "Is that where we're all sitting?" you asked in surprise.

"Absolutely, Gorgeous. And you better sit by me."

He handed you a tray and pointed you toward the end of the line of officers getting their meals. "It's almost like a date, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He smirked as he handed trays out to your kids. "They do have some Thai options on the menu. I will warn you and say the pasta is terrible compared to Salvatore's."

You were smiling nonstop as you selected a few different options, including some Thai curry, and made your way to the long table which was now lined with juice boxes and water bottles. Somehow Bradley thought of everything, and if he thought the last blowjob you gave him was a nice thank you, he was definitely in for another one.

When he slipped into the seat next to yours, he asked, "Do you think everyone is having a good time?"

"This is better than anything I could have imagined," you promised.

Soon your kids were all poking at and sampling the foods on their trays, calling out opinion after opinion as Bradley pulled a small notepad and pencil from his pocket. "Okay, okay. We all hate the baked ziti?" he asked, giving you side eye. "I told you the pasta was terrible." He made a note and said, "But we all like the meatloaf and the breaded chicken?"

"Yes!" shouted Jayden.

"The chicken is so good!" called Violet.

"So is the macaroni and cheese," said Oliver.

Bradley was actually taking real notes which made you want to push him down onto the table and climb on top.

"It's like you're really in the Navy now. You have opinions on the cafeteria food," he said with a salute. "Ready to earn your wings?"

Eighteen pairs of eyes went wide. "We get wings?" Henry asked Bradley, lunch completely forgotten.

"Only if you're brave enough to sit in the cockpit of my Super Hornet."

The table erupted in cheers.

---------------------------

"It's huge," you gasped. "It's so much bigger than I could have ever imagined."

Bradley led everyone outside to the tarmac near the hangar where his F/A-18 was parked with the ladder down. Natasha was sitting in the cockpit with Bradley's helmet in her hand, waving down at everyone.

"Why don't you go first and show everyone how it's done," he said, and you looked up at his smiling face.

"Alright," you agreed, still clearly surprised by the sheer size of the jet.

There was something about seeing a military aircraft in person for the first time that nothing could prepare you for. Some of the kids were looking at it with their mouths hanging open, and Violet looked like she was on the verge of happy tears.

With one hand in the middle of your back, Bradley helped you start to climb the ladder. The fantastic view of your ass was a perk, but he really was trying to make sure you got up safely. When you were standing on the last rung, Nat helped you climb inside, and she plopped his helmet on your head. It was comically large, and you were laughing as you waved down at everyone from the seat.

"This is incredible!" you shouted.

"You just earned yourself some wings," Bradley promised, and you pumped your fist in the air while the kids all cheered. He took his phone out to get a picture of you and Nat up there with his name on the side of the jet, and then it was time for you to climb back down. You probably didn't need the extra help, but his hands ended up on your hips anyway, and you looked back at him over your shoulder once you were on the ground.

"Thank you," came your breathless voice, and he had to remind himself that he was at work and not allowed to push you against the ladder and make out with you like he wanted to.

"Who's next?" he asked, prying his hands away from your body. The chaperones sent Jackie up to the ladder first, and Bradley held her hand until she was securely on the ladder. "Be careful on the rungs. Phoenix still slips on them all the time."

"I do not!" Nat called down from the cockpit. "I never slip on them, ever. But Rooster always does."

"You got me there, Phoenix," he said with a laugh as Jackie scaled her way up to the top.

Each kid got a turn. Oliver told him that his jet was probably fast enough to feel like you were slam dunking off the back of a dragon after all. And Violet looked at him as she climbed down and said, "I'm really sorry Lieutenant Bradshaw, but Phoenix might be even cooler than you."

He laughed as he said, "You're breaking my heart, kiddo," and she nodded somberly. "That's okay. I'd probably agree with you most days. Go line up with everyone else so you can get your wings."

Maverick and Nat helped you and Bradley pin some replica golden wings on each lanyard, and then Bradley pinned one on yours as you grinned. "What if I want to wear the real thing?" you whispered as the kids all gushed over their little treats.

Bradley glanced down at the insignia pins on his khaki uniform. "You want to wear my shirt around, Gorgeous?"

"Maybe," you told him softly, and he could already picture it.

His nostrils flared, taking in your sweet scent over the jet fuel. "You sleeping over tonight?"

"I don't see how I could possibly stay away after you gave us the perfect day."

He swallowed hard, once again wishing you just lived there with him. Then he wouldn't have to ask or invite or assume. He would just know you'd be with him after work. "Then I'll make sure my shirt is ready for you."

"Rooster."

Bradley released your lanyard and turned toward Maverick. "Sir?" he asked as Mav nodded toward the air traffic control tower.

"They're ready for us."

"Excellent," he replied as Nat folded up the ladder next to him. "We have one more thing for you to learn about. Naval aviation wouldn't be possible without skilled air traffic controllers making sure we have safe flight paths. If you promise to be quiet, we can all climb the tower stairs and listen in."

The kids were bouncing around excitedly again as Bradley and Maverick led the troops across the tarmac with you and Nat bringing up the rear this time. "You look like you're having as much fun as they are," Mav remarked.

"I think I might be," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Their love of aviation is pretty infectious."

Mav was quiet for a beat before he said, "That's true. But there's something else." He glanced at Bradley over his sunglasses with a very serious look on his face. "You remind me of your dad today."

"I do?"

"Yeah. Absolutely," he promised. "And I think it's because the love of your life back there reminds me a bit of your mom."

Bradley stumbled, his boot skidding along the ground, but he managed to stay upright as Maverick reached for his bicep. "Really?" he asked his dad's best friend, voice hoarse as he thought about how his mom mourned his dad for the rest of her life.

"Yes. Make sure you treat her well."

------------------------------

The tower wasn't large, and all of you had to really cram in there. But as soon as your kids saw all of the instrumentation panels and the line of officers in uniforms wearing headsets, they started asking questions.

"Quiet," you reminded them. "We promised we would be very quiet."

Bradley squeezed through the group until he was facing everyone, and he waved so everyone's attention was on him. "We have two pilots who are out over the desert and in position for you to give them some flight commands. Their call signs are Coyote and Hangman, and each of you are about to be tasked with telling them how and where to fly."

You gasped, heart beating a little faster. "Is that safe?" you asked, looking from Bradley to Natasha.

"Well, it's just Coyote and Hangman, so if anything happens, it's not such a big deal," Natasha said, earning a bland look from Bradley while she laughed at her own joke.

"It's perfectly safe," Bradley said, holding up a stack of papers. "I'm going to have everyone read off of one of these sheets." He started handing them out to the kids. "Once Lieutenant Maxwell here gives us the go ahead, she's going to turn on the speakers so we can communicate with Coyote and Hangman without a headset. And that way everyone will be able to hear the transmissions. Sound good?"

It sounded too good to be true to you, but you nodded silently. A minute later, the woman sitting in the chair at the end, removed her headset and flicked some switches. "It's all yours, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Maxwell." He raised his voice a little louder. Coyote. Hangman. Do you copy?"

"We hear you loud and clear, control," came a voice with a southern drawl.

"Copy," came a second man's voice. "Ready at the throttle."

Bradley pointed to the paper in Oliver's hand and nodded. "Go ahead and read it," he whispered.

Oliver cleared his throat and practically shouted, "Hangman, break right. Coyote, breach the hard deck."

"Copy tower," came the immediate response.

"See it on the screens?" Bradley asked, pointing to where there was some sort of radar output of the placement of two aircrafts dipping and diving. "Nia, your turn."

She read, "Hangman, bank down to five o'clock low," and sure enough, one of the jets changed position on the screen. The children were taking this entire mission very seriously, and you were almost shaking with excitement from everything that happened. This was literally the best field trip in the history of field trips.

Jayden was the last one to go, and after he shouted out the commands, he said, "Hangman is kind of a dumb call sign, isn't it?"

"I resent that!" drawled the first voice.

"I mean, it's just not as cool as Coyote," Jayden told him while Bradley stifled his laughter.

"He's not wrong," came the second voice. "Please tell your teacher you earned a bonus point for being so smart, courtesy of Coyote."

"Copy that!" you said, and Bradley handed the reigns back over to Lieutenant Maxwell. As quietly as could be expected, the group headed back down the stairs and onto the tarmac where apparently there was another surprise.

Bob was waiting with a crate full of noise canceling headphones. "Hangman and Coyote are on their way to land their jets on the runway!" he said, passing out the headphones to everyone. "With proper ear protection, we can stand here and watch them come in, but we need to keep our ears covered at all times."

The kids were all reaching for a pair, and Bradley walked around to adjust them and make sure they fit nice and snug. When he got to you, he took some extra time, letting his thumb tease your cheek before moving on. Bob stood ahead of everyone with a radio to his ear, then he turned and gave a thumbs up before stepping to the side and securing his own ear protection.

Off in the distance, you could see two dots rapidly growing in size, and even though you knew what was coming, you still jumped a bit at the noise they made as they screeched through the air and touched down on the runway. You were overwhelmed. Your heart was full. It was hard to believe that your aviation lessons in your classroom led all nineteen of you here.

You'd never be able to top this day for the rest of the school year, and you were okay with that. As long as Bradley would visit you again. And again. And again. If he hadn't already reached legend status, he definitely had after this, and you were certain an hour wouldn't go by for the foreseeable future where the kids weren't asking about him.

"Can I walk you all back to your bus?" he asked after collecting the headphones with Bob.

You let your knuckles bump against his. "Please do, Lieutenant Bradshaw. And on the way there, please tell us how we're your favorite field trip group of all time."

"I can do that with an abundance of detail."

------------------------

Legendary. I want to go on the same field trip a million times with Bradley as my tour guide. I've started to think about what I'm going to include in the rest of this fic, so let me know if there's something you're dying to read about these two! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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lovesickdeadsims · 2 years ago

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Lovesick Legacy Challenge

GEN 2- The Scrooge Colin Whittacker

Nguyen has organized a little vacation in the warm island of Sulani, away from rainy Brindleton Bay. Two days in paradise with their cats Grey and Mimi, Colin is learning to relax and let go a little bit. He has been working all his life (literally since he was a child!) and now he deserves some fun and relaxation. And whatbetter place to do it if not Sulani?

PS: Grey became an old cat. His fur is even greyer! That doesn’t stop Mimi from liking him!

#the sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 legacy challenge #ts4 legacy challenge #the sims 4 lovesick legacy challenge #ts4 lovesick legacy challenge #the sims 4 sulani #ts4 sulani #sulani #island living #the sims 4 island living #ts4 island living #colin whittacker #nguyen lui #grey cat #the sims 4 cats

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starsinthesky5 · 1 month ago

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husband & dad joe burrow (headcannons) || joe burrow x reader

description: little things about husband joey and dad joey

a/n: ahem, the bitch is back 🗣️🗣️ it’s been three long weeks of no fics but im here ;) this was a request i got! i’ve been in my dad/husband joe feels lately and UGH. i can’t. i just felt the urge to write this and get it out asap because he’s just had me in a mood lately that like 🤰🤗

side note- the next part of nothings gonna hurt you baby is coming! thanks for your patience loves 💞

word count: 8.6 k (i got carried away lol)

warnings: fluff, allusions to sex

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husband joe

joe always wakes you up with little kisses in the morning. he knows you hate alarms because of how startling they can be, so instead, he presses his gentle lips against the soft skin of your face to ease you into waking up. his trail of kisses always starts on your jawline and ends at your lips, he hits every single spot that he knows you love to be kissed at. you usually wake up midway through his little gesture, but you love the feeling of his lips on you too much so you only open your eyes when he’s done. he always has this lazy look on his face, his voice raspy and scratchy, his hair all messy and soft. he’s so adorable when he wakes up, and even cuter when you open your eyes because his smile gets bigger. “morning, princess,” he mumbles before leaning in for another kiss. you wouldn’t want to be woken up any other way

joey always makes your morning coffee for you. he says “can’t have wifey walking around all cute and snuggly but acting like zombie,”. you never have to ask him to do it for you, he just knows. he knows exactly what kind of coffee you want, how many splashes of creamer, and specifically what mug you like to have it in. it was a little souvenir mug you got during your honeymoon from the almafi coast in italy. sometimes he'll even warm the mug before pouring the coffee, just so it's extra cozy. those little things he did for you were your absolute favorite. you really didn’t need anything else in the morning, just joey and his perfectly brewed, as he called it, "love in a cup"

during the off season, he’d even make you breakfast every morning—regardless of whether he had something going on that he had to do. it was a routine for you during those months, walking down the stairs to the smell of cooked bacon and freshly chopped fruits while he was flipping pancakes on the griddle. you’d make your way downstairs, sit on the kitchen island, and just watch him like a lovesick fool, his bare back to you as he worked away, humming softly to the music in the background. he enjoyed making you breakfast with the soft melodies of sweet, classic love songs playing. some of his favorites were “it had to be you” by frank sinatra, “hopelessly devoted to you” by olivia newton-john, and “look after you” by the fray. you loved to see him like this, so normal, simple…so husband. seeing him doing something so simple and domestic made your heart swell. he was in total "husband mode" according to you when he was cooking

and whenever he put that chef's apron over his bare chest...let's just say the pancakes didn't always turn out as perfect as they could. it didn't take long for his attention to shift--especially when he caught you looking at him a certain way. before you knew it, the pancakes would burn and he'd be too distracted by other things to care ;)

joey is such a cuddle monster in private. the man cannot keep his hands off you when you’re alone together. you thought you had seen the peak of his cuddle monster ways when you were dating, but it only got worse after you got married. he just needed to have his head lying on your chest or burrowed in your neck. he loved to have his legs tangled with yours, bonus points if he had his seinfeld sweats on. that was maximum “on some comfy shit” vibes for him. you didn’t mind, his warmth was the best feeling in the entire world

and whenever you tried to get up to go do something, he’d follow you around like an adorable lost puppy, waiting for you to be done so you could go back to snuggling

after a late night out with your girls, joe would always help you get un-ready. he'd be there with a bottle of remover and some cotton pads, gently removing your makeup as he asked you about your night. he'd help you get undressed, guide you through brushing your teeth, and then help you get cozy in bed. he would then plug in your phone for you, fill up the water bottle you kept on your nightstand, and clean up any mess in your bedroom. he knew you'd be dealing with a hangover the next morning, so he took care of all the little things so that your only job was to rest

joe leaves you little hidden notes around the house--inside your purse, tucked into a book you were reading, or in drawers around the house. each note was filled with sweet messages reminding you how much he loves you and appreciates you

"you make me a better man. thank you for loving me as I am" - found in your skincare drawer "i fall in love with you more each day. you're my everything," - hidden under your pillow "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror "i'm head over cleats for you :)" - taped to your shoes "what does taylor swift say in her one song? oh right, "have you ever thought just maybe...you belong with me ;) ?" - taped to your shampoo bottle "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror

"you make me feel so high school every time i look at you." - tucked into your planner "i know how to ball, and you know aristotle. well, we both do. but you're a bigger philosophy buff than me :)" - tucked into your computer "i love the feeling of your skin against mine. i want to feel that warmth all night," - found inside your book "just a little reminder that i can't wait to have you all to myself tonight. you drive me wild," - taped to your bottle of pomegranate juice “i love my wife. i love my wife. i love love LOVE my wife :),” - taped to your jewelry stand "i've been thinking about the last time we...let's do that again, shall we? - found on the full body mirror in the bedroom, hinting at a special moment "i love when you wear this dress. it drives me fucking wild. you're so god damn sexy baby," - taped to that little lacy red dress you wore for his birthday last year "you've intercepted my heart," - tucked under your waterbottle

joe is weirdly (it's so cute though) obsessed with getting the laundry done just right. he knows the exact way you like your clothes folded, and he's mastered the wash cycle for some of your delicate tops. sometimes, when you're tired and lazy after a hard day at work, you'll come home to find your laundry neatly folded on the side of your bed. you wouldn't have to ask him to do it, he would just know. he's definitely beating the "he can't do his own laundry" allegations ;)

joe didn't let the fact that you two were now married and together for life get in the way of still having weekly date nights. sometimes it would be as simple as ordering chinese takeout and watching a movie in bed, wearing your comfiest clothes. other times, he'd choose a free night during the week and surprise you with a night out at a restaurant you'd wanted to try or an activity that brought out your silly sides (mini golf, bowling, etc). sometimes he would even cook up a little dinner for you, candlelit table and everything. he would say, "just because we're married, doesn't mean i'm done wooing you,". it honestly didn’t matter what you two did, as long as you were together, everything was perfect

every week it felt like you were still dating, still falling for each other, deeper and deeper, one date night at a time

joe insists on driving you everywhere, no matter the weather or even if you could've driven yourself. you have a nail appointment? joe drives you. you need to go to the store? joe drives you. you want to go to your besties place? joe drives you. he loves the excuse to spend extra time with you, and you'll catch him reaching for your hand at every red light and stop sign

those drives are filled with secret--not so secret--glances too. he just can't stop staring at you, like ever. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever set his eyes on, sometimes not even being able to believe that you were real

after a long game, joe would likely come home exhausted, but he's never too tired to check in on you first. he'll let you fuss over him--ice packs, massage gun and all--but in return he makes sure you've got everything you need for your night. whether that's a hot bath, a cup of tea, or just a spare hour to let you bitch and complain about the game because he knows you get heated very fast when watching football. he knew that all this was just as mentally exhausting for you as it was him. he couldn’t imagine how it felt to be in the stands every week, watching him get tackled to the ground and fight his way to victory. but the fact that you still stuck around, after all the pain and frustration that this brought you, stood out to him. you were always there for him, no matter what

“thank you for being there for me. you’ve been with me through it all–every practice, every game, every injury, every tough loss...and even through the pressure, the media, and the expectations that never seem to let up. you’ve seen the worst parts of this career–the long hours, the hits I take, the doubts that creep in after a tough game–and still, you’re always there, no matter what. unconditionally. i don’t even think I can put it into words…how much I appreciate you. how much I love you for standing by me. you’re there for me after the worst games, when im beating myself up, and somehow, you always make it better. i don’t know how you do it, but i know i couldn’t do this without you. you make everything feel worth it, even when it’s hard. and i hope you know that, even if i can’t always find the right words to say it. i love you more than anything, and i’m so damn lucky to have you by my side,”

joe goes all out when decorating the house for christmas, and especially did when it was your first christmas as husband and wife. he obsessed over finding the perfect tree, you think you went to maybe 3 or 4 places before settling on the perfect one. it made your heart swell when you remembered the twinkle in his eyes when they landed on the perfect tree. he eagerly yanked you over, his voice all high and laced with excitement. “oo, ooo. we can do like red and gold ornaments. wait no. maybe orange? because go bengals! or would that look tacky. or wait we also have a bunch of those family ornaments so maybe no theme? ah, i don’t care, it’ll be perfect no matter what,”. he was acting like a little kid and it was the cutest damn thing you think you had ever seen

he brought out all the festive pillows, hung all the little lights everywhere he could, and even bought one of those blow-up santa's reindeer decorations for the front yard. "it's our first christmas as a married couple, babe. we're practically obligated to have the best decorated house on the block,"

then when you tried to put a stop to his christmas explosion after you came home and the inside of the house looked like santa’s workshop had exploded inside, he said, "look, if we don't go all out this year, how do we tell our kids one day that we started a tradition of being the most festive couple ever, hmm?" he asked while holding up a ridiculous amount of mistletoe for emphasis

on christmas eve, you two ended up wearing cheesy matching pj's--joe rolls his eyes at them but secretly loves wearing them because its "peak couple behavior" and you two make it work. "i'm only doing this for you," he says, but then you'll find him wearing those same pjs long after christmas is over

joe lowkey is an absolute gift wrapping pro. every gift is cleanly wrapped with perfect corners and bows. he says he learned it from his mama--which wasn't surprising since joey was an absolute mama's boy and looked up to her for everything. he even adds a little note to each gift, reminding you how much he loves you. that he did on his own, something he didn’t get from his mama. that was just your husband being the best damn husband to ever husband

joey secretly hangs mistletoe all over the house and each time you pass under it, he's right there with a silly grin, lips puckered for a kiss. "oh, look where we are again," he smirks every time before pulling you in for his favorite way to pass time

joey surprised you with a custom ornament on christmas eve too. it said "our first christmas, mr. & mrs. burrow", and he looks so proud while giving it to you. you act like you don't notice the blush on his cheeks when you hang it on the tree together, but boy did he feel like exploding into a cloud of pink sparkly dust at that moment

if his hands weren’t always on you, his lips definitely were. you lost count of how many times you two were late for something because he just couldn’t get himself to pull away from your lips. it would usually start innocently, maybe a quick peck or two before heading out--but one kiss would turn into two, then three. before you knew it, he'd have you pressed against the doorframe, his lips lingering longer each time. “mmm, 5 more minutes baby,” he would mumble against your lips before stuffing his hand in your hair and pushing your face closer to his. you would try to resist by laughing between kisses and reminding him you had to go, but he'd just smile at you and then lean in for another one

joe has a habit of surprising you with flowers, but never for a specific reason. he'll come home with a bouquet of flowers on a random day after practice, saying something like, "just felt like my wife deserved this today for being the amazing woman she is,"

joe often stays up late watching game film before important games, but he always invites you to come sit with him on the couch, even if you end up falling asleep midway. you'll wake up with his arm draped around you, the TV quietly playing game highlights and he'll whisper, "sorry honey, i didn't mean to wake you up," before dropping a sweet kiss to your forehead. but there are times where you stay awake and watch the film with him, snuggled up together on the couch. when he's in analysis mode, he'll absentmindedly start explaining plays to you, "okay, so if you're the wide receiver, you'll run this route," he says while guiding your hand to demonstrate. it always ends up with him getting...distracted though. the game film had long been forgotten as the only route joe was concerned about was the route he was going to let his lips take to the place where you needed him the most ;)

even though joe is the star on the field, you're the star off the field. whether it's a work event, casual dinner, or something important to you--joe's there for you in full support. you are the star of the show, the most important thing in the universe. he'll be cheering you on like it's the super bowl or something. he just loves to see you work hard and have that pay off. he loves to see good things happen to you because you deserve all the happiness humanly possible

he’s always the loudest clapper and cheerer whenever you get an award or recognition at work. he’s the first one to shoot up from his chair when your name is called, and the last one to sit down after you’re done being serenaded with praise. he knows how much you support him, how you tirelessly shower him with love and support. so he always makes sure to do the exact same for you

before every game, you slip a little handwritten note into joe's locker with some words of encouragement and something to make him laugh, even for a brief moment. "bring home that win and I'll have a sweet treat waiting," or "you make this look so damn easy. go out there and do your thing, baby. i'll be cheering for you, always," or even "the faster you wrap up that win, the sooner we can play our own game. i've got a new playbook for you to try. hint: it involves less clothing,". he always kept these notes in his bag and will read them when he's feeling stressed or overwhelmed--during halftime or even before the game again--and they'll act as a little boost

joe’s love language is all of the above. but gifts, physical touch, and quality time were the frontrunners

gifts-

he showers you with gifts all the time, for absolutely no reason. one day you’ll come home to a new handbag waiting for you on the table. or a new necklace to add to your expensive collection (he has great taste). or you’ll be surprised with adorable little things like a new stuffed teddy bear or a funny spongebob sweatshirt (you both were equally as obsessed with the cartoon). he loved to buy you things for no reason because he just loved to see that bashful smile on your face and your little nose scrunch up

you even remember that one halloween when he made you a boo-basket after overhearing one of his teammates talk about making one for their wife. after hearing that, joe went straight to the store to pick up the essentials and then when he got home, got started on the more...extravagant pieces of the basket. joe covered all the grounds with it, even adding in his own flair. there was a cozy blanket, a bunch of sweet treats and savory snacks, halloween candy, a few candles, a book you’d been wanting to read for a while, face masks, fuzzy socks, a new heating pad, and new ugg slippers. but then there was also a new diamond tennis bracelet, a new pair of cartier shades (so you can match him), and a little designer clutch to go along with a new dress you bought just a few weeks before

during the off season, he would occasionally surprise you with spontaneous weekend getaways as he knew you loved traveling. he would always take you somewhere you were dreaming of--a cozy cabin, a beachside resort, or even a staycation at a fancy hotel nearby

after one of his biggest wins--his first AFC championship win--joe had a game ball set aside just for you. on the ball he wrote, "this one's for you, forever and always yours - j.b". it sits in a display case in your home, a constant reminder of how you're always on his mind, even in his biggest moments

every season, joe gives you a signed jersey (one of his own, of course. usually the first jersey from week 1). each jersey has a personal message for you on the inside of the collar like "my #1" or "forever yours" and are dated to match the significant milestones. you have a collection of them now, and they're one of the most treasurable things you own

quality time-

anytime together was quality time for joe. whether that be picking out new paint colors for the house or new tiles for your bathroom, or snuggling up on the couch together to watch trashy reality tv, or sitting on the back porch with a glass of wine and watching the sunset. he just loved any and all time he got with you

he always made sure to make time for you. football took up quite a bit of his time, but that made it even more important to take time out for you

one thing joe loved to do with you was late night drives and walks

he loved to drive around with you on the golf cart, especially down to the river behind the house. your head leaning on his shoulder, fingers entwined, and the breeze blowing through your hair. it was so simple yet so pleasurable for him. it gave him the serenity he craved every day, an escape from his chaotic football world

late night walks were also exciting for him. he loved to take you out for a lap or two around the neighborhood after dinner. the only light was coming from the lamposts and the moon above you two. oftentimes during these walks, you two would have some of your deepest, intimate conversations. before you got married, those deep conversations would be about marriage, about your future. but since that was now sealed, your deep conversations would be about things such as kids, his future in cincinnati, and where you two see yourself in 15 years. but it didn't always have to be serious. you two would often find yourselves giggling about aliens, time travel, and old stories from your days back at LSU

oh and he also just loved to spend time between your legs

physical touch-

joe is handsy as hell. he’d always been like that, but you thought it would die down as the years went by and you two started acting more like a unit than a bunch of horny college kids. but those two things can be true at the same time

he’s always holding your hand when he can. he needs to feel you at all times. whether it’s holding hands in the car, holding hands underneath the dining table at dinner with friends or family, or holding hands in a crowded room to calm his anxieties. he just needed that touch. his hand is also often found at your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans. he likes to have it in your jean pocket because according to him, “it’s the only way i can touch your ass with decency in public,”

he also had a habit of fidgeting with your wedding ring. you don’t know why but he just loved to play with it, twist it around your finger

the reason was that he just needed to remind himself that it was there. that it was real and it was on your finger. sometimes he couldn’t believe that you were his wife, couldn’t believe that someone like you was with him till the day he died

he’s also handsy in some…other ways ;)

if he could, he would absolutely keep you in bed with him for eternity

he was so damn good in bed. like everytime you guys got down to it, you’d be left breathless, speechless, and in awe

as your marriage progressed, the sex only got better and better. he knew what you liked and what you didn’t like, so he made the things you did like even more intense. he wasn’t opposed to trying new things at all either, as long as you were comfortable and felt satisfied. he wanted to do whatever he could to bring you to heaven

also because there was no need to be careful anymore. you were married. you wanted kids together. and well, the rest is self explanatory....but once he got to feel you without any barriers, that's when he really went feral. like a whole other level of down bad for you. he really needed to be pried off of you because he could never get enough of you or your body

joe loved praising you the entire time too, and honestly, you earned it. the way you'd make him feel in bed was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. you were so insanely sexy, so insanely good at it all. every time you two got down to it, you'd make it unforgettable ;)

"baby...fuck you're amazing. i can't get enough of..oh..i can't get enough of you. you're doing so well...just like that...do what you want. make yourself feel good, y/n...take it,"

joe was so obsessed with you, and that love and infatuation had not once gone down over the years. it somehow got bigger. he was so happy to be your husband, and he was even happier that you were his wife.

engagement and honeymoon joe

you and joe had been dating for about 4 years before he popped the question. from the very beginning, he knew you were his girl. his forever girl. his special girl. he loved you quite literally more than life itself, nothing could ever come before you. you were his biggest priority. joe from years ago would've laughed if someone told him that in the future, something else other than football would become his first priority. but joe now? joe now was proud of the fact that you were his biggest priority. he was proud to shower you with unwavering love, and affection; he loved being able to give you the world. loved being able to give his wife everything she could ever want

there was never a doubt in his mind, but it wasn't until just after your fourth anniversary that he decided to make it official. he was waiting for all the stars to align before doing it. you weren't surprised that he did--he'd always dropped hints about the future, about how he couldn't imagine his life without you. but you were surprised by when he did it

he flew both of you down to louisiana for a few days that summer, claiming that it was a work trip. it was a work trip on the surface. he was helping with scouting, recruitment, and training as he was one of, if not the most, successful LSU football alums in recent years. but on a deeper level, this was the proposal trip. every moment seemed casual, perfectly normal, but you didn't know he had a ring, the ring, tucked away; waiting for just the right time to turn this work trip into the start of forever

he had an entire day set aside just for you two. it started with breakfast at one of your favorite spots from your LSU days--a cozy little diner, just walking distance from joe's old apartment. you two used to find yourselves in the same booth every weekend, sharing pancakes and debriefing your weeks together with endless cups of coffee. it was like stepping back in time, a sweet nod to the beginning of your journey together. then, he took you to the planetarium--the same place he brought you on your very first date. he'd always been fascinated by space, and you remembered how he told you that his universe seemed a little less overwhelming with you in it; that you were the brightest star in his sky, and you outshined everything else

it was as if he was recreating the milestones of your relationship that day, building up to something bigger

then he took you to a romantic dinner at the same restaurant where he told you he loved you for the first time--yet another milestone recreated. he got the same table, the same food items, and even got you the same flowers he did on your first date. he remembered it all

after that, he ended up driving you to Tiger Stadium

you were so confused as to why you were at the football stadium that night, especially because there was no event going on that joe needed to be a part of. the entire stadium was empty except for you two. you thought it was just a little walk down memory lane, but little did you know, joey had other plans

joe had always been sappy when it came to big moments in your relationship, so when it came time to propose, he knew there was only one place where it could happen. the same place he first asked you to be his girlfriend: LSU’s Tiger Stadium—after one of the most important games of the season back during his first year at LSU. this was the place where he was now going to ask you to be his wife. yet another milestone was recreated, but also another milestone being created at the same time

you didn't think much of it as you two walked hand in hand through the tunnel and onto the turf, you could almost hear the echoes and chants of the crowds from years ago. but when he led you to the exact spot where he asked you to be his girlfriend--the fifty years line--your heart skipped a beat

"remember this?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, his body filled with nostalgia

but then you saw his expression shift to something more serious, more raw as he looked around at the stadium he once called his home. he reached into his pocket and got down on one knee right there, right in the middle of the field. "this place means everything to me. it's where my dreams started, where I became the player I am today. but it's also where we started. where I asked you to be my girl for the first time. everything changed when you said yes, and since then you've been my biggest support, my constant, my person. it hit me early on that there's no one else i'd rather have by my side. not just through the football stuff, but through life. and i realized there's no place more perfect than this...to ask you what i've been dreaming about for years. this is where we started--where i first asked you to be mine. now i'm asking you for forever. y/n, you're my heart, my home, my everything. you single handedly rocked my entire world when you first walked in, and now i just can't get enough of you. i want to spend the rest of my life loving you, making you laugh, and building a life together. will you marry me?"

and he even got the jumbotron to show an old photo of the two of you from the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, right at the exact spot where he was on one knee right in front of you

when he opened the little velvet box, you felt like your heart popped out of your chest. the ring he had for you was the most gorgeous thing you had ever set your eyes on, well other than joe. it was custom made, designed to resemble the promise ring he gave you all those years ago

small diamonds lined the sides of the ring, giving it an extra sparkle that caught the light with every movement. he knew you loved sparkle, so he made sure the ring was extra sparkley

the breathtaking cushion-cut diamond in the middle of the ring was just perfect. a little halo of smaller diamonds surrounded it, highlighting it's brilliance just enough

the most special part of the ring was the inside of the band. inside, the words "forever and always yours - j.b" were engraved in cursive, just like your promise ring

and of course you said yes to his proposal. why would you not? he was your dream man. this was your dream

the hours after the proposal were so magical

the first thing he did was pull out his phone and call your family, excitedly sharing the news of your engagement with them. the proud smile on joe's face is forever burned into your head. he was so excited to make you his wife. he was oozing love that night. you'd never seen him so in love before

then, you guys had some celebratory drinks to commemorate the engagement. let's just say you two might have had one too many glasses of champagne because, by the end of the night, you two were honestly contemplating if you should elope to a foreign country next week and get married

you fell asleep that night dreaming together. you talked about your dreams for the future--where you see yourself living, your dream vacation spots, and even little details about your wedding like the flavor of cake. "i want red velvet," was all joe said when you brought up the cake. "i want red velvet. i want red velvet. if you love me, you'll let me have red velvet,"

for your honeymoon, joe took you to the amalfi coast, italy. one of your dream destinations

each evening, you two took long, romantic walks along the coastline. you walked hand in hand along the scenic walkways, the gorgeous sun setting behind you which casted a golden glow on both of you. you both took turns taking photos of little candid moments, laughing as you tried to get the perfect shot. "hey shorty, just hop up on my shoulders," he would cutely tease as you tried to get a good shot of the view, but your height got in the way

joey booked you a private boat tour on one of the days too. you both enjoyed the clear blue waters all day as you were surronded by breathtaking cliffs and coves. you even convinced joe to get a nice tan with you, but his stubborn ass refused to put on sunscreen, so he was a tad but overbaked at the end of the day. "ha, you look like a tomato," you giggled as you booped his red nose

he also booked you a private cooking class where you learn how to make authentic Italian dishes. you both laughed and teased each other while rolling out the fresh pasta and preparing a classic marinara sauce. "mmm, you look so delicious right now," he whispered in your ear as he felt himself get a bit overjoyed at the sight of you in an apron and your hair wrapped in a messy bun, flour all over your cheeks and arms. you pushed him away so you could focus, but in retaliation, he coated his big hands with flour, and then planted each hand on your ass, leaving big floury handprints on your ass which was so visible because of your black dress

you also have quite a few late-night gelato runs

after spending quite a few hours in bed, wrapped up in a passionate, heated bubble, you both would be craving the sweet, cold treat. so you'd quickly throw on some clothes and stumble out of your hotel, finding yourself at the doorsteps of local gelato shops. you tried sooo many flavors on the trip, playfully feeding each other spoonfuls as you walked through the charming streets under the moonlight

the entire trip, you two were so attached at the hip. like way more than usual. you were like magnets. he even made sure that during your beach days, you were secluded and away from everyone else so that nobody would interrupt your makeout sessions...and well, some other things too. he just wanted to be able to love up on his wife in peace

the honeymoon was so perfect. it was like the perfect escape for you two, the best way to start off forever :)

dad joe

joe talks to your baby bump sooo much. sometimes you'll even wake up to his head level with your bump, and the sound of his voice whispering to his unborn daughter. he loved talking to her, not caring if the conversation was one-sided. he just wanted baby tessa to be able to recognize his voice when she was born

"good morning little tiger. mommy is still sleeping but daddy is wide awake. thanks for letting her sleep in, baby. she had a long night because of your little kicks. they hurt sometimes, so just be gentle with her, okay? we love you and can't wait to meet you, pumpkin,"

his featherlight kisses around your belly were both you and your baby's favorite thing. every night before bed, he'd help you moisturize your belly with some special pregnancy lotion you ordered online, and right after he was done, the kisses would begin. the first couple of times he did this, it was calm and quiet. but one night, a kiss to your bump resulted in the baby's first kick

"oh my god, y/n! she kicked! babygirl kicked!" he excitedly said while meeting your eyes. the look on his face just made you want to die right then and there. he was so damn happy. he was just so excited about all of it--for the baby, for you to be a mom, and for him to be a dad

he even gives his football commentary to your bump

during MNF or TNF, you two would be snuggled up on the couch and joe's cheek would be squished up against your swollen belly. your hands would be stuck in his fluffy hair, playing and twirling with the strands as he talked to baby burrow about what was going on in the game. he would have this adorable little smile on his face when he spoke football talk to your bump, because each time he said something, he'd get a little kick in return

"alright, babygirl. you're about to witness some football magic," he says against your belly, his eyes glancing up at you for a second so you could see his excitement. he had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, "see that guy over there?" he said while pointing at the screen. "that's my buddy. he's got an arm like you wouldn't believe. he's gonna throw a TD any minute and I want you to remember that feeling and sound of excitement for when you watch daddy do the same thing, okay?" he asked, his fingers tracing over your bump as if he was trying to connect with her. and he did, because she gave him a gentle little kick in response

joe took it upon himself to order and read a boatload of parenting books and articles. he wanted to know all the ins and outs of being a dad, even asking advice from all his friends and family. you found it so heartwarming to see the amount of dedication he put into preparing to be a dad. joe always gave everything his 100%, but it seemed like he was giving this particular thing 110%

he got a little too psyched out, however, after reading an article about the appropriate age to let your daughter start dating

"babe. no boys. she can't let that poison seep into her brain? tessa needs to be on top of everything if she wants to be the best possible version of herself, at least until she graduates college. no boys at all," joey said, his expression was so serious it made you giggle

"listen, i was the same way. but then I met you in college. you didn't poison my mind, right? tess will be fine. besides, we have sooooo many years before we need to worry about which boy our daughter is sneaking out at midnight with," you giggled. "babe!" joe gasped, "this is not funny,"

joe loves baby shopping a little too much

going to the baby store with him is like going into victoria's secret with a teenage girl. he was lost in his own little world

as you're browsing through the clothes, he gets overly excited about the little outfits. "the clothes are so tinyyyy," he pouts while picking up a little baby joe burrow jersey. he picks out a bunch of cute little onesies for his babygirl, many of which have cute little football sayings on them like "daddy's cheerleader" or "MVB: most valuable baby". he wanted her wardrobe to match his love for football as much as possible. which is also why a few days later, he came home after practice with a tote bag of baby bengals merch just for her

in the toy section, joe completely loses it. he can't resist touching each plush toy and rattle, often making silly faces or sounds to see what toy gets a reaction from you or your baby bump. "oh wait, i need to get her a squidward plushie. oh wait, i also need to get her a squidward beanie to match me sweatshirt game days," he nodded as he stood in front of the spongebob section with both hands on each sides of his hips. he was already standing just like a dad and you couldn't help but giggle at it

"god, i can't believe we're gonna be parents," he pouted as he walked out of the baby store, bags galore in his hands. "im so excited,"

during labor, joey was the most supportive and gentle husband possible. he was the calm in the storm and just his presence was doing wonders for you

he held your hand, rubbed your back, and helped you through breathing exercises. he was very hands-on, which you loved. his touch always put you at ease

during those intense contractions, he always reminded you to hold eye contact with him. those baby blue eyes were your safe haven and each time you looked into them, you allowed yourself to get lost. the pain of the contractions basically faded away with just one long stare into his warm eyes

joe made sure that he was in communication with the medical staff. he needed to make sure you were receiving the best care possible and that he knew everything that was going on at all times

during labor, he was your biggest cheerlead. whenever you felt anxious or scared, he was right next to you, whispering words of praise into your ear, "you're doing amazing, princess," or "i'm so proud of you mama. you're so strong, i love you so much. she's going to love you,"

joe made sure that you had quiet moments too--where he was just sitting next to you, gently stroking your hand as he talked about how excited he was to meet your baby. he just wanted you to lay back and listen in order to conserve your energy

he even cracks a few jokes during your intense moments to calm you down

breathing during a contraction- "okay, babe, remember: in through the nose, out through the--wait, isn't this basically football practice? you've got better form than half the team right now!" he laughed

after a contraction- "sooo. i guess we can skip leg day for a while after this, huh?"

as he massages your back- "you know, i’ve been meaning to tell you, this is great practice for the halftime pep talks and relaxing mechanisms you'll need for tess when she’s older. if she's anything like her mom, she won't hesitate in marching down to the locker room and cursing out the entire d-line,"

when you're trying to relax- "just think, by the end of the day, we'll have a little new teammate on our roster. you think she's more offense material? or defense?"

after your baby is born, joe's first words are so soft and emotional. he's so overwhelmed with emotions, but the first thing he thinks about, is you

"you did it, princess. you're so incredible, mama," he says as he kisses your forehead, tears in his eyes, completely in awe of you

a few days post birth, you're coming down the stairs after a much needed nap and the sight your met with literally causes you to melt

baby tessa's squished up against joe's bare chest, sleeping while he just held her against him. you can see that he's quietly relishing the moment, this little bonding time with his daughter. her little baby cheek is pushed up against his muscular chest and that alone drives you wild. those raging pregnancy hormones were definitely getting to you ;)

the sleepless nights don't faze joe. everytime she wakes up crying, he's up in an instant. he lets you rest, knowing that you needed it way more than you thought. you were working so hard as a new mom, you needed to just relax. "i've got her babe," he whispers to you. you love watching him cradle her in his arms, rocking her back and forth while softly humming a song. you saw him visibly release the tension in his muscles as he felt her calm down in his arms

joey is hyper aware of every sound she makes. the second she lets out so much as a tiny squeak, he's right by her side, making sure she's okay. he absolutely adores his little girl

joe has set daddy-daughter bonding time in the morning. each morning, he walks around the house with her in his arms, talking to her about football, his training, and all the things he plans to teach her about the sport. he's convinced she's listening, even if she's only staring at him with wide baby eyes and a drool-covered chin

joe is all about family naps. he tells you that all three of you need to snuggle together on the couch during the day and you obviously agree. your home was those two right there. of course, you wanted to snuggle up with them. you'd often wake up and see him with baby burrow resting on his chest, both of them fast asleep as his big hand gently rested on her tiny back

"baby, she's so cute! look at her little squishy face," joe would giggle to you as he played around with her in his lap

joe constantly reminds you of how incredible you are. he's in total awe every time he watches you feed the baby or rock her to sleep. "you're such an amazing mom. i'm so lucky to have both of you. you're my two favorite girls," he would say

joe jokes that he's already making a baby-friendly football playbook

he scribbles down little plays and shows them to her as if this is film study and she's taking notes. "okay, tessa. here's what we're gonna do. first, we tackle nap time. then, we conquer tummy time," he would explain to her with a goofy smile, one that caused her to shriek and squeal

joe has this video camera that he uses to document her progress. he tells you that he's gonna film her little moments just like his dad did for him. seeing joe walk around tessa with a camera in his hand, trying to get every angle, made your heart melt. nothing brought you more joe than hearing a mix of both their soft giggles, shrieks, and laughs. "tessa...over here, pumpkin. daddy's over here!" he would softly say as he tried to get her to look back at him and his camera as she tried to play with her squidward plushie--her favorite thing in the world right now

crawl training was one of your most favorite parts of the day because you could just sit back and watch joe be in full daddy mode for an hour or two

he would playfully get down on his hands and knees, demonstrating how to crawl. he slowly moved one hand forward along with his knee, "look, babygirl. it's just like this! one hand, then the other--easy peasy, right?"

every time she moved the smallest inch, joe's face lit up with pride. "you're so strong, tessa. you've got this!" he cheered on

he'd even motivate her with toys, gently waving it in front of her. "you want mr. squidward? come get him, sweetie," he teases, proud of every shuffle she makes

"c'mon, you're almost there, babygirl. you've got this," he would encourage. "you're almost to mama," he added as he met your soft eyes while you patted your legs so tessa would remain focused

each time she struggled, you watched him quickly scoop her up in his arms for s break. peppering her with kisses and tickles while whispering, "it's okay, we have all the time in the world. me and mama are soo proud of you, pumpkin,". his patience was so special to you. he was so gentle with her, so understanding

but when she managed to push herself even further than before, joe would celebrate like it was a touchdown. "that's my girl!" he'd cheer, clapping his hand softly as he watched her giggle and squeal in your lap while you showered her with kisses

"huh, i guess she'll be crawling all over the place now, isn't she?" joe asked you as he sat down with you after crawl training with his little tiger

"probably. but that's all your doing, baby," you would tease

tessa was such a daddy's girl, and how could she not be? he was so good to her

seeing joe as a dad just made you fall in love with him even more. the way he took on this major new responsibility like a champ made your heart explode. you didn't think you could possibly love him any more than you already did, but tessa's arrival proved you wrong in the best way

joe was the absolute perfect husband and an even better dad. he was naturally good at everything he did, but loving you and his babygirl was the easiest thing for him to excel at

--the end--

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #bengals #joey burrow #nfl imagine #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine

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