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grapejuicestyless · 20 days ago

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Leader Of The Landslide

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: John B was always your dad’s favorite. You always assumed it was because he blamed your mother leaving on you. Though he never outwardly neglected you, you always seemed to live in your older brother’s shadow. To everyone except one.

I remembered it from a young age, as early as seven, the way they all shunned me. My mother had been long gone, and my tired brain hadn’t held a single warm memory of her other than one.

We were at the chateau, as my dad called it, sitting on the old porch. Only, it wasn’t old then, it was new, and without the cigarette buds littering the once vibrant oak. There was an old wicker chair in the corner, pushed where the dusty couch now lay. It rocked slightly, not because it was meant to, but because it was broken. The distant memory of mumbled yelling and crashing from outside. Arguments that kept me and John B hidden under his covers until daylight broke. I loved that chair.

When I was young, my mom used to hold me in that chair. She never thought I was too old to be held, to be doted on by my mother. I still called her “mama” in my toddler years, pawing at the ends of her hair and the old fabric of her shirt. She sang soft melodies to me, songs I had never committed to memory, but songs I found in the simple things I enjoy now.

Popes dad says I had her eyes, and John B once told me that our dad thought I had her laugh. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like me, he tells me he loves me, but he doesn’t like me.

Right before she left, I had been padding along the grain of the wood floors, my blanket dragging between my legs and my dad’s shirt were my makeshift pajamas hanging down to my ankles. A storm, ones we got often in the summertime as the air became warmer and pushed out the cold, had broken down a few large branches in the yard, and in an effort to find comfort, I ran to my mama.

“You favor that girl over our son!” My dad shouted, his voice thick with a simmering anger I had never heard before. I swore even then I could feel it through the walls.

“How dare you! They are my babies! I love those kids more than anything I have ever loved, and I love them just the same!” My mama argued, but her voice was softer, more conscious of her young ones who she believed were tucked into bed just a few feet away.

“I should have known you would have been this way. You haven’t seen them the same since they were born.” My mama added softly, her words bitter and heavy with an unspoken truth.

There was a heavy silence, and then, a crack. I wasn’t sure what it was, the sound of rings hitting skin and the soft clanking of another hitting the ground. I ran quietly, light on my feet as soon as the collision happened, crawling over to John B’s bed and pulling the sheets up to my chin. He didn’t even stir, so used to the feeling of my legs curling against his, expecting to wake up nose to nose when the sun would shine through his thin curtains. The arguments happened so often, it became rare that he wouldn’t wake up with me tucked into bed beside him, a nervous wreck and furrowed brows.

That was the last time I saw my mother, or heard her voice. I hadn’t known it then, but the way my father seemed distant that morning told me it was more than one of the usual fights. She wouldn’t be walking through that door again in a few days like she sometimes would, and she would never sing to me again.

I remember laying out across that old chair, pulling my small knees to my chest. Her perfume lingered on the cushion tied around the back, and her voice was carried over the breeze. She wasn’t coming back, and the pain in my father’s eyes and the churning of his stomach told me that much.

A few days later, dad called my brother and I into the living room to tell us how mama had skipped town, set off for a better life. I could tell they both blamed her, bother hated her secretly for it almost instantly, and being so young and impressionable, I nearly agreed, I nearly believed it. But I saw the way my father spoke to her and the way he had the ability to make her snap back. She deserved that life my father said she was chasing, even if deep down I knew it was a lie.

I never told my brother that dad was lying, though sometimes I did whisper it in his sleep like a prayer, like my truth would reach his dreams and taint his false sense into seeing whats real. But even as a little kid I wasn’t innocent enough to blabber on about how horrible our last living parent was. Especially not when our dad was to John B as what our mother was to me.

The chair was gone soon after, and my dad refused to tell me where he’d thrown it. At first I thought he had broken it, but he was a sensible man at times, and the extra cash lying around the kitchen told me he had sold it, and he had killed her memory too.

Years later, with barely any recollection of who she was, and lacking the foundations of which she should have built for me, sometimes I found myself curled up in that corner, my knees pulled to my chest tightly in the same ball I wound myself in all those years ago, and sometimes I found myself still calling out for her, like if she had heard how much I still needed her, she would sing for me one last time.

But I am much older now, and it has dawned on me repeatedly like some sick prayer that I am too old to be held, to be shown the affection of a mother and her infant, and I have been since the day she left.

Early mornings and stained glass windows, not from paints, but mold. Old rotten wood and dusty broken furniture. A safe haven to call home, a quiet room on the heart of the cut. My brother and I often pulled out patches of grass in the backyard, and sometimes we’d sit together on the hammock, see how high we could swing and loop our fingers around the rope to hold on.

Dad would sit inside, sometimes by the kitchen window where he could look out and watch over us, but he mainly spent his time inside of his office, which had at one point, been moms bedroom.

He used to leaning over the dirty counters, feeling the sun on his skin, letting the gentle breeze cool the back of his neck. But dad loved a lot of things, and unlike mom, he lacked a discreet touch about those things.

I guess it could be traced back to when my brother and I had just turned eight. A week after the party had rolled over, and glasses kept piling up around the house, sticky and stained a faint brown from his favorite cheap whiskey. Sometimes I tried to clean them up, and I would place them in the sink, but the colors never faded, not even after my small palms would bleed and callous.

Once, John B asked me what I was doing. He had been playing outside with Pope and JJ, and JJ had been screaming for me to come outside and be his partner in ‘signs’, our favorite childhood card game. Though, JJ and I often lost because we too, lacked the ability to be discreet in any situation.

I told him I’d be out soon, I was just doing the dishes and I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face. The usually happy, calm man looked down at his feet with something I’ve later identified embarrassment. I never blamed dad for drinking. I figured if mom leaving was still hard on me after all this time, it must have been hard for him too.

He began using his coffee mug after that. The dark liquid less shameful in a cup that gave him the ability to not only disguise his problem, but to commit it at any time of day, because John B was too oblivious to notice, and I was too naive to believe he would.

“Bird.” Dad called for John B in the backyard, not caring how Pope and I were arguing nonsensical things over each other, waving our arms and pointing fingers. JJ happily mediated, laughing at our schoolyard taunts and remarks, encouraging us to snap back, though we all knew our words were nothing more than that, and we all loved each other a great deal too much to mean any of it.

If I hadn’t been so caught up in my own thoughts, maybe I would’ve seen the way dad was swaying. The way his knuckles were white around the frame of the door. His glasses were crooked, and his breath rotten with substances. But I didn’t notice, and so little John B happily walked towards our father with open arms.

Dad hugged him. He hugged his son and held back his tears like it was the most beautiful moment he could ever dream of. He held John B like he was precious, and not to deny that he wasn’t, to me my brother was worth more than anything in the world, but to my dad, it was something more than that, and to me, it felt that way too.

Because dad never held me, his daughter, who cleaned his dishes, and covered his tracks, and lied, and stole, and cried out for him, for some peace. He never hugged me like that. Because he blamed me.

He blamed me for my mother leaving because unlike my mother, he could never love my brother and I the same. He couldn’t love two of something if he barely wanted one. He never hit me, but he was cold, calculated, cruel when he wanted to be.

That day, at just eight years old, I sat in the grass with dirt under my nails and heavy breaths wondering would it would be like to feel the warmth of my father. Would it solve all my problems or only tear me apart further.

Because maybe if I continued to never feel the embrace of the man who gave me life, it would be easier to disassociate and pretend that it didn’t hurt. Maybe it would be easier to not like him anymore, and the unbearable guilt I carried even as an eight year old, would go away finally.

I didn’t even realize that I wasn’t fighting Pope anymore, or how my gaze had drifted over to watch how tenderly my dad held onto my brother, because I couldn’t even feel the way tears burned into my skin in slow droplets that fell into my lap.

JJ hugged me then, and it felt special, I felt special, because I knew even at that age that affection was a rarity in my life, and JJ, as much as I knew he loved me, was not a physical person. Still, he held me from behind while Pope spewed out apologies, swearing on everything he believed that he hadn’t meant a word. I could tell that he too, felt confused because we had gone after each other multiple times and never had I broken down.

In that moment it felt like I had gained something more than a hug from my father, but a silent acceptance with my best friends. Because soon, even Pope shut up and looked to where JJ’s eyes were glued, and even as flustered as he had been, everyone who sat in the dirt that day understood that no words that were thrown around had ever hurt me, nor did they even reach me, because what had made me so inconsolable was the fact that my happy brother received all the praise while I laid out in the lawn, crying until I dry heaved, ignored by someone who I only ever wanted love from.

“It’s gonna be alright, Y/n/n.” JJ mumbled quietly into my ear, and for the first time, I didn’t believe a word he said.

“Dad, dad stop.” I defended myself for the first time when I was thirteen. I was only half his height and he was triple my age. I thought that somehow, if I stopped enabling his behavior, he would get better. He would see how much I cared and he would finally love me.

That was the first time dad yelled at me, really yelled at me.

My dad refused to lay a hand on me, so when my friends ask if I was ever abused, I tell them no because it feels laughable to compare my psychological trauma to the welts on their ribs when they barely escape home.

When JJ asks me whats wrong, why my eyes look so puffy in the afternoon, after I stumble out of the house in the same clothes as the night before, I tell him I didn’t get enough sleep, because how do you tell your best friend who has been climbing through my bedroom window since we were nine that my dad hurts me too, you just can’t see it.

Dad called me a liar and a psychopath when I told him he was hurting me. He told me that it wasn’t true because he loved my brother and I and he would never lay a hand on either of us, not then and not ever. Dad says that he deserves respect, that I’m only a kid and he’s the adult so I better start acting like it. He tells me that it’s like a switch went off in my head ever since I became a teenager and all of a sudden I can’t stand him. But that’s not true.

The truth was even at such a young age, I always knew I would lay my life on the line for my dad. He meant more to me than I could ever express, because to me, he was the man who hadn’t left, even when he was given all the right reasons to bail out. So, for years I tried to cover for him, clean up and take care of everyone to show him what I could never articulate into a phrase of my affection. Still, he preferred John B’s half hearted sentiment over anything I could give him.

I wished so deeply that I was born different, that I wasn’t me. Because maybe if I wasn’t the clone of my mother, maybe then my father would like me more.

I guess the worst part of it all is that I can never be sure if my father’s anger could have been my mother’s, only given to him in her absence. Would his hands have been hers as I grew older? Would her hugs turn into the white knuckles wrapped around my throat? And would her songs become the vile words my father threw at me in drunken rage?

Maybe if I kept hiding behind the cruelties of his excuses for the way I cowered around him, then John B wouldn’t have to live in the same sense of shock I have been stuck in for a decade.

Dad never laid a hand on me, but he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to touch me to kick me in the stomach, all he had to do was show me how he was capable of being a loving father, but never put me on the receiving end.

He found time for John B, even as he buried himself in his work, searching for some gold that seemed far away and unimportant. He locked himself away while I slid food under the door, and I watched as he kissed my brother’s forehead and bid him goodnight, leaving me to sleep on the couch.

Even as a thirteen year old girl, an age so tender and impressionable, I felt so much more mature than I should have. I felt the effects of neglect I couldn’t wish on anyone. In my self pity, even after he gave me every reason to turn on him, I couldn’t hate him, so I began to hate myself.

“Dad, when was the first time you felt love?” John B asked one night. For the first time in a long time, we were all lying in the living room. My brother hung over my dad’s lap and my head resting on the floor as I sank off of the old dusty beanbag.

Dad thought carefully, his large hands splayed out against my brother’s small back.

“The day you were born.” He answered thoughtfully, and I watched as my brother’s eyes lit up.

I had every right to scream, to beg for an answer because the little girl trapped inside of me didn’t deserve this kind of pain from her own blood. But I didn’t. I sniffled and sat up, storming out of the house that I wasn’t even sure I could call home. How foolish I felt for ever believing my dad would ever love us the same. How stupid I felt for thinking that my brother, who inherited our fathers name, would never be preferred over my mother’s child.

“Y/n Routledge, get back inside now!” Dad yelled, storming down the porch to catch me. But I had become good at slipping away, and neglectful parents raise angry children.

“Go to hell!” It was the first time I swore at my dad. Even I shocked myself, because it had never occurred to me that I could do that.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” He asked me, and it made me want to laugh because when had I ever done anything to him that wasn’t in good faith? “Just like your mama! Storming off!” My dad cursed under his breath, not really bothering to chase after me. How easy would it have been for me to have ran away.

I could live under a tree, a big willow with drooping leaves and heavy branches. I could make friends with the squirrels and be a good mother to them, the mother I never had, but always dreamed of.

“My mama was a good woman!” I cried out, suddenly overwhelmed with my freshly made emotions, ones that felt too strong for a new teenage girl.

“You know nothing about her! She left, I’m the one who stayed!” Dad yelled, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious.

I did something I had never done before. In all of my life, not once had I ever blamed my dad for my mom leaving. Not even after I heard their fights from when I was no taller than the notches in the doorframes, and not after he began to spend his paychecks on alcohol instead of new shoes for John B and I. I never blamed him because he always blamed me, and if it made me feel so worthless, then how could I ever do that to him?

“I don’t blame her!” I fought back, tears burning my eyes almost as hard as the back of my throat stung. “And I don’t blame you.”

I couldn’t stay mad at dad for more than a few minutes. I couldn’t blame him, and I couldn’t lie and say I did when I didn’t. Dad didn’t say anything then, so I turned on my heels in the dirt and I stormed off.

That night, I knocked on JJ’s window. I was wearing an old Star Wars t-shirt that he once called nerdy and my rainbow pajama pants. I looked thirteen going on seven, my cupcake slippers caked in mud.

But JJ didn’t pull on my braids like my brother did when we fought, and he didn’t poke fun at my pants. He opened his window and leaned out, his messy blond hair and tired eyes adjusting to admire my face.

“Y/n/n? What happened? Why are you here?” He asked, and I could tell he sounded a little on edge. His dad used to be discreet about how he dealt with JJ, but after middle school had began, he stopped caring as JJ stuck around the same kids he grew up with. So, I stayed as quiet as possible, not wanting any trouble.

“I just missed you.” A lie. The first of many lies I would spew out to my best friend because I felt too awkward to confess my own feelings and burden him when he had it so much worse.

“Oh.” His face lit up slightly, and I could tell my words made him feel nice. “C’mon, I’ll help you in. Wouldn’t wanna lose a slipper.” He teased with a toothy grin, a smart ass from birth.

I playfully smacked his shoulder, holding my breath until my feet hit his dirty floors. He held onto my arms longer than he had to, and I wondered if he could feel my body shaking.

“Don’t make fun, okay? I like my slippers.” I smiled, blinking away the old tears that I cried on the way over, and pawing at the scrapes from the bushes I cut through to get to his house quicker.

“I would never!” He defended softly, his arms raised in a scouts honor. “Cross my heart, cupcake.”

Sometimes I wished that JJ and I were older, I thought about it often. It kept me awake after long fights with dad, that I would one day save up all the money I could scrape together and take JJ with me. We’d go around the globe, just me, him, and open ocean surrounding us, and only the scars on our skin and in our heads to remind us of the past. But we wouldn’t care, because we would be there for each other, and the ocean would wash away the evil men on the shore.

“I wish I had a more appreciative daughter!” Dad yelled at me as he packed up his things in a hurry, chasing yet another lead on his quest for the gold, a passion driven by his valiant greed.

It hurt, but it would have hurt me a lot more three years ago. At sixteen, his words meant nothing to me, because at sixteen, I had finally come to terms with the fact that my dad simply did not like me, and that was okay.

So instead of sitting in self pity, or swallowing myself whole in a another bottomless spiral of self hatred and depression, I finally found the spark that was burning so fiercely somewhere deep inside of me.

“Fuck you!” The second time I swore at dad. “Fuck you and all your promises to get better!” I stepped forward, crossing into his office, which I swore to never go in, not only because it reeked of him, but because it was only a reminder of how quickly he let mom go, and how quickly he shifted the blame onto me, an innocent infant with no real chance to do anything to anyone.

“Fuck me? Oh, fuck me? Your father? I have done everything for you! I have given you the chances my own parents couldn’t give me and you are so ungrateful! I pray for a day you wake up and see the damage you cause around here!” Dad spat, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck all your pride and fuck all your prayers!” I stepped closed again, and my knuckles pawed at his shirt desperately, my eyes looking up at my father, who stood ten times taller than me, or so it felt that way. “All this time I waited like a fool, because you’re my dad. Above anything else, before the treasure and before the alcoholic, you’re supposed to be my dad!”

“Are you drunk?” He asked. I wasn’t, but I might as well have been with how quickly my mind passed through emotions.

Here he was standing in front of me, and here I was already done processing all my grief. He wasn’t dead, I could feel each breath under the palms of my hands, yet for years it felt like walking next to a ghost with how absent and withdrawn he always was from my life.

“All I ever wanted was a father.” I told him softly. “Was that too much to ask?” I deserved to know, but I should have known better.

My dad was an asshole, and he always would be. It was in his fashion that he would brush right past me, unfeeling and lacking empathy for his own daughter.

I felt angry. Before, I felt betrayed, sad, even embarrassed by him, and by how easily I let him get away with all his faults simply because he was my father and if my brother loved him, then there had to be some good in him. But there wasn’t.

Here he was, walking out of my life, the keys to the car that I paid for in his hands, dangling just as carelessly as he was with my life. I don’t know why that set me off, but it had. I heard my feet slap against the floors before I felt myself moving.

“Give back my damn keys!” I caught up behind him, snatching the carabiner from his dirty knuckles and pushing him into the wall. He wouldn’t hit, but god, had he made me wish I could. “I paid off that loan it’s under my name!” I stuffed the clasp into my back pocket tightly.

“You wanna leave, thats fine. But you’re walking out of my life if you’re going!” I breathed out heavily, the frames on the wall rocking back and forth from the force he hit the wood with.

“What is wrong with you? Where’s my sweet little girl I used to love?” My knuckles loosened on his shirt again, but my elbows remained pressed into his stomach.

“Loved? Like you ever loved me. You couldn’t have, because you wouldn’t have taken it out on me. You wouldn’t have gotten rid of her existence in spite of me. You wouldn’t have tossed that damn chair, and you wouldn’t have burned the things she kept for me!” I wanted to cry, but more than that, I wanted him so see how exhausted I felt.

“All I wanted was a fucking father, John.”

“And you got one, and look at you, you’re a strong young woman now!” He laughed bitterly, fighting against my shaky hold. He could barely look at me. I wondered if he was asked, could he even tell a friend the color of my eyes? If I were to wash up on the shore, could he even report the body? Would my grave lay empty simply because he hadn’t known me for years, and he never would.

“I was a little girl! I was a little girl, and I still am! I’m sixteen, dad! Stop treating me like some type of problem when I’ve been nothing but great to you!” I cried this time, pushing him harder until the wood splintered and my arms gave out. We both stumbled away from each other.

“All I ever wanted was a father, but for the first time, finally I can see you are the leader of the landslide.” I scoffed pathetically, staring him down with a broken heart.

I deserved to smash all the plates in the house, to rip off all the wallpaper and spray paint the rotting white paint bright blue just in spite of my father. But even though he wasn’t kind to me, I couldn’t ignore how good of a dad he had been to John B, and more than anything I ever held close to me, I loved my brother dearly. I wiped my tears and let dad walk out on me. Neither of us said a word.

He clapped John B over the back when he got outside, promising to return soon, this time with the promise of an unpromising fortune. He swore that he loved my brother more than anything, called him by the nickname he earned long ago, and left without saying another word.

I watched wordlessly from the front steps.

We lost the gold. Once or twice. The gold we had found first was a slap to the face, but having the cross stolen right out from under us felt so much worse, especially with Pope being tied into it on such a deeper level.

We all sat around the first now, our bodies tucked close together like a perfectly woven blanket, arms tangled around each other and weak laughter echoing around the smokey fire. We didn’t have much left to fight for, but to me, I felt deeply that in a more important way, we had gotten the gold, and we had been filthy rich all along.

The gold we’d found couldn’t be measured on a scale and dealt between the seven of us evenly, but unmeasurable and sought after by anyone who understood. Because in the end, we still had each other, and to me, this was family.

JJ’s blonde hair tickled the top of my forehead. We sat close together on the low swinging hammock in the backyard. His arms wrapped around me tightly, and my legs thrown over his lap carelessly. We talked quietly with Kiara about the little things. We found alternatives to seek out her dreams of preserving the ecosystem and to swim with the turtles.

It all felt so real, so domestic for a group of friends who were always running from something. It felt like the first time in a while I had time to stop and catch my breath.

“What are you thinking about, cupcake?” The nickname rolled nicely off the tongue, his crooked smile endearing to me, and his eyes sweeter than any doe I’d ever encountered.

I sighed contently, cuddling closer to the boy and soaking up his warmth greedily. Though we both never said it would loud, it always felt nice to share close proximity with someone we trusted so deeply. To feel affection for someone when we had grown up scarcely to it.

Dad had been dead for nearly two years now, and the truth was, I wasn’t sixteen anymore. I wasn’t the sad little thirteen year old who hated herself more than anyone else, who climbed through the blondes window at midnight in her muddy slippers, and I wasn’t the timid toddler who could barely walk without tripping on her blanket she dragged around everywhere for a pathetic kind of comfort.

John B took it hard at first. I wanted so desperately to tell him everything. He was my older brother after all, but most days now I felt like it was my job to look out for him. It always had been. He was my brother and I would never have let him suffer, but sometimes it was hard not to wish for once I could selfishly struggle openly and degrade the man he saw as his hero.

It would be wrong for me to taint that image of a dead man, a man I still believed John B was openly grieving, even if he said he was okay now. You are never okay after losing someone like that, no matter how evil, and I think he forgets that he was still my father, even if he never saw us in the same context as he saw him.

“Thinking about how comfortable you are.” I mumbled, stretching my limbs out tiredly along his tanned skin. I laid like a lap dog on his chest, my head tucked under his chin and my hands playing with the rough fabric of his dirty t-shirt.

“Not about John B?” He prodded quietly. JJ always knew when the wheels in my head were turning, just like I could always tell when something was wrong. It was like our super powers, to know each other so well we couldn’t hide anything.

“He’ll come back, he wouldn’t leave you.” He assured softly, his fingers dancing gently along my curved spine. It felt like oddly in times like these, the calm after the storms, that it truly would always be just JJ and I against the world. Like we were the only two people who truly understood each other, through the laughter and under the deepest scars littering our skin.

“I know. He’s my brother, he wouldn’t do that.” I agreed, and just as I was about to let the serenity of the lazy swinging of the hammock lull me into a sleepy haze, the crunching of boots on leaves alerted me elsewhere.

There he stood, his clothes still grimy from the tropical heat and wet mud from Barbados. His hair was stuck to his forehead in the same curl pattern from a few days ago, but the deep rooted brunette seemed to become a shade of dirty blonde from all the harsh sun. His skin was tanned and covered in sweat, but he was still my brother, and he had finally come home.

I sat up quickly from JJ’s arms, pushing off of his chest with so much force, I felt him bend at the waist and let out a puff of air. I shouted an apology before wrapping my brother in a bone crushing hug, relief filling my stomach and the unease dispersing finally.

“Where have you been!” I pushed him away with a smile, I didn’t even notice the seriousness in his gaze as he called out for me softly.

“Are you crazy? Staying behind like that in a foreign country?” I laughed breathlessly, my eyes searching his face and settling on his lack of a smile.

“Y/n/n.” He called out again softly.

“What? Whats wrong?” I breathed out, my smile fading slightly into a dimmer smirk, confidence slipping from my face into a deep furrow between my brows.

“John B, what happened? Did someone hurt you…d-did-“ My happy touch became a panicked grip on his clothes, my knuckles white and face pale as I searched for answers.

“Y/n.” He cooed calmly, the ease between his eyes and brows calming the pace of my breath. “I found him.” He said with a soft smile.

“What?” I breathed out. “Who?”

I racked my brain for answers, mulling over every possible explanation for what could have made me stay behind, leave behind all the good that had surrounded him for the past few years, and the good that would continue to grow with him.

“Don’t tell me you forgot your own dad?” An old voice called out from behind the brush, long greasy hair and an un-groomed bears covering a good portion of his old face. From his glasses alone I could see who it was, never mind the voice that often haunted me even in my sleep, the ghostly presence that lingered even as I slept on my own.

He was a poltergeist haunting my life, torturing my soul until I bled out completely blue. Had the punishment of forcing a child to clean up his mess for over a decade not been enough karma for all the bad I hadn’t done yet? Would I forever be stuck in the broken glass of his aftermath? How much longer would I have to hide behind the shell of who I once was just to please those who don’t yet know about who I am, of who I could have become?

I decided then I couldn’t do it, and I let go of my brother, and I let go of my pride.

“No.” I spoke softly, looking between the boys. John B looked more and more like dad every day.

I watched my brother’s face crumble in confusion, my heels dragging against the dirt, I backed away like a scared dog, mo longer the eager retriever with a bird at the door. My tail was between my legs.

“Y/n/n, it’s dad!” John B gestured like it would click for me, but that was not my father. Maybe by blood, but he would never be more than that to me, just evidence that linked me back to John B.

“No, I-I can’t.” I tried to explain through staggering breaths, choking out my words like tranquilized venom.

“I know it’s a lot, but everything’s going to be the way it was.”

My back hit JJ’s chest, and for the first time in the last few seconds, the ringing that blocked out my brothers bargaining seemed to fall deaf on my ears, and all I could hear was the sound of my heart beat dying in my chest.

“No, you don’t get it.” I cried out, though my eyes felt dry. “You don’t get it and you never will!” I begged silently for him to see the way the spark seemed to die as soon as dad came back, the way that my shoulders slumped and the confident young woman I had become faded back into the teenage daughter who wished for nothing more than to run far away from here.

“Y/n, come on, don’t be like this.” Dad tried to reason, like it was his say to decide how I would handle his return, like he could decide when I stopped feeling the effects of his abuse, because that was a word I had learned to call it, because that is what it was. Abuse.

“How dare you!” I shouted, anger making my skin hot. I felt queasy, like the world was crashing down on me, betrayal hot on my face. He didn’t know, my brother didn’t know because I protected him from it.

Couldn’t he ever notice how much happier I seemed after dad left? How I finally started living for the moments between us instead of for the times when I could go to sleep, where I could quietly call out for our mother who I didn’t know.

JJ knew, of course he knew. He knew by the time dad left. I’d confessed it all in a drunken ramble in the backyard after he commented on how happy I seemed, and though I laughed when I told him, neither of us found it funny. He apologized for making me feel like my problems were minuscule compared to his, but I assured him it was my own self doubt, and never his own actions. Neglectful parents raise insecure kids.

So if my best friend had known, if he could see just how happy I was without the burden of my father’s blame, how could my other half not see it? My own DNA? It led me to believe he was neglectful of me in his own ways, pushing aside the obvious signs of my own struggle just for his own benefit, for the gain of a relationship with the father that severed ours long ago.

“How dare you come back here after all the shit you put me through!” I cried, and I hit him. I hit him in the chest and I watched as he kept his ground, his shoes not even sliding against the mud. I had grown weaker without his constant fighting, and it showed in just how quickly the flame flickered out.

“How dare you come back and expect me to just be okay with it when all you’ve given me is years of therapy that I can’t afford!” I hit him in the jaw, and this time, I felt a pair of arms pull me away, my hot tears burning their tan skin. I kicked and I screamed, and my brother dragged me off until I couldn’t reach him anymore.

“You’re a piece of shit! I owe you nothing!” I pointed at him, staring him down as he rubbed the quickly blossoming bruise on his skin, his beard covering the welt almost entirely. The mark didn’t make me feel better at all, and instead, I only felt more pathetic.

“I gave you everything!” My limbs fell limp, all fight leaving my body as my tired joints ached, my head falling onto JJ’s shoulder. The boys passed me off like some kind of child, and looking at the man who tormented me my entire youth, I felt just like the timid child once again, like all my growth meant nothing.

The bright moon was replaced with the yellow glow of the kitchen lights, clouds traded in for floral curtains that hung crooked over the windows, and the cool grass fading into hard wood beneath my feet.

“Y/n, hey…” JJ cooed, his hands brushing against my shoulders.

“I just…fuck…I couldn’t do it. I don’t know why I hit him, I don’t know, I just-“

“Y/n, cupcake, hey, baby,” he called for me again, a plethora of nicknames tumbling from his lips that I had never heard him call me before, but all that held a genuine affection in them. I stopped my senseless rambling at the tenderness of his touch and softness in his voice.

“It’s okay to not be okay.” He affirmed quietly. “You earned your anger, it’s okay.”

I nodded, my gaze drifting from just beyond his shoulder were my brother stood dumbfounded with my father, looking at him with a mix of question and anger towards the man that he once saw with stars in his eyes.

“Jay, I don’t know what to do.” I confessed quietly, feeling like we were ten again, sharing secrets through a game of telephone, just the two of us stuffed in the corner of my bedroom at midnight, my father unaware that the blonde was still in the house, let alone snuck in my room.

“That’s okay.” He nodded again, and this time his palms molded against the apples of my cheeks, thumbs brushing away my stale tears.

“It’s gonna be okay, we can run, or we can stay and kick him out, or we can do nothing.” I focused on the way he said each option with the use of we, because in our minds, we always escaped hell together.

“Can we just stay here for a little longer?” My eyes found his, and I saw the way his flickered down in a way that felt too intimate for just best friends.

“We can do whatever we want, it’s you and me against the universe, cupcake, and we’re winning it.” He promised.

And just as I always had, I believed every word he said.

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst #maybank #maybankxyou

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youunravelme · 1 year ago

Text

to all the girls you've loved before part six

author's note: okay......so i can explain. i know it's been like four months, but i swear it wasn't on purpose and tbh i lost track of time. so here's it is after months of waiting. i promise i didn't forget about it, i just had other projects i was working on (like the 30k words i wrote for two separate fics) that really took up most of my inspiration. there is a time jump in this, but not a huge one. but enough excuses! here's to part six (which is 9.4k words, i figured y'all deserved it)!

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, fear of falling in love, moving into angst city baby

day forty-five

you woke up in an unfamiliar place. disoriented, you looked around, noting that it was still dark outside. there was a weight around your waist that was familiar in the sense that you'd felt that sensation before, but unfamiliar in that it smelled like someone new. your heart started racing at the feeling, until you recognized it for what it was: an arm.

your heart rate settled for a moment until you blinked and realized that while you were at home, you were in a different room and considering there was no crib, you could only make one leap in logic:

it was mat's room.

jason's words came back to haunt you almost immediately.

he'll get bored of you eventually. people always do.

your hands felt clammy as you slowly slid out of mat's hold. your knees were shaking. the air was too thick to breathe evenly, but you knew if you started hyperventilating in mat's room, he might wake up and freak out with you.

so you took some shaky breaths and then booked it back to your room.

you stared up at the ceiling for two hours until ella woke up. immediately, you got up, thankful for a distraction from the conflict brewing inside your chest.

when you opened your bedroom door, mat was standing across the hall in his own doorway. his hair was disheveled and his white tee shirt was askew, but it was clear he had the same thought as you.

the two of you stared at each other until one of ella's cries snapped you both back to reality.

"i'll get her," you said quickly before darting into ella's room and ignoring the feeling of his eyes on you. they burned into your back like someone was steaming the clothes hanging off your body.

in the crib, ella was kicking her legs and flapping her arms as much as her sleep sack would allow. and for a moment, you forgot the momentary discomfort at the sight of her gummy smile.

"good morning, sweet girl," you crooned. you reached into the crib and unzipped her sleep sack before picking her up and into your arms. she immediately snuggled into your chest, tucking her head under your chin.

you changed her diaper before heading out to the kitchen where mat was cooking eggs.

you wouldn't look him in the eye, just focused on getting ella into the high chair. mat walked past you, putting her plate of fruit on her high chair tray. it was the closest you'd been since that morning in his bed. and while it was technically innocent, it didn't feel innocent.

as much fun as he was, you'd forgotten that mat was still technically your boss, a friend too, but your boss nonetheless. and sleeping in his bed, regardless of how much you believed you needed it, was a mistake.

you couldn't lose this job, lose ella, lose sydney, but you didn't think you could handle losing mat. not entirely.

so you'd settle for losing the smaller moments of closeness. you'd stay professional with him if only for the sake of keeping your heart and income safe.

god, you hated thinking of him just as an income, but jason's words rang in your head like a small town church bell at noon. was he just waiting to sleep with you? was he just taking pity on you?

it was too early to get a headache.

you sat in a chair next to ella and checked your phone for any messages when a plate was placed in front of you with eggs made in the way you loved and a piece of toast.

"it was all i could manage without giving you food poisoning," mat said sheepishly.

you said a quiet thanks and turned your attention back to your phone, missing the way mat's face contorted into a frown.

"what do you have planned for today?" he asked, taking the seat across from you.

you shrugged, not feeling too keen on going out in public after what happened the night before. you weren't stupid, logically you knew new york was a large city and the odds of running into natalie or jason were slim, but you saw them last night and you weren't too eager to chance repeating the same thing.

"i think we'll just take it easy, stay home and hang out," you said. the words what about you were sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you kept your mouth shut.

mat hummed as he took a bite of his toast. "i'm gonna go work out with tito before practice, and then i think we have some interviews or media to do," he said.

you nodded but said nothing. when ella finished her breakfast, which looked like her tossing eggs onto the floor, you scooped the plate up and hurried back into the kitchen, excited to do something more than just sitting in a room with mat. you started washing the plate, not even thinking about the dishwasher three feet away.

"i can get that," he said, reaching around you and grabbing the plate straight out of your hands. he placed in in the dishwasher before grabbing the broom and sweeping up the eggs on the floor as he cooed at his daughter.

your heart lurched in your chest at the sight, at the view of him being so gentle and doting. you cleared your throat and dusted your clean hands on your pants to keep them from doing something stupid like pulling mat to you and asking him to hold you like he did last night.

"i hate to rush off," mat started as he placed the broom back in its corner and washed his hands. "but i told tito i'd actually be on time today." he got ella out of her high chair and kissed her chubby cheeks. "dada loves you ella bean," he said before approaching you.

you did your best to prepare for eye contact. but the bottom line was as soon as you met his eyes, you couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

he was the prettiest man you'd ever seen, with an even bigger heart.

you snapped out of it when ella reached for you, focusing on how her downy brown hair was growing longer, instead of how she was a complete carbon copy of her father.

for a second, you almost felt bad for her birth mother, nine months of being pregnant, all that labor, only for ella to look just like mat.

but then you remembered that same woman dropped her daughter off with him with just a note, and any lingering feelings of empathy and pity immediately vanished.

you took ella and scampered off to her room, ready to get out of mat's presence.

the two of you were playing with some of her toys when you heard mat call out a goodbye before the door shut behind him.

it wasn't until the lock clicked that you could finally breathe.

day fifty-five

"are you coming to the game tonight?" sydney asked over the phone.

you had your cellphone tucked between your shoulder and your ear as you prepped ella's lunch for the day. the baby in question was babbling to herself when she wasn't stuffing her face with the cheerios you gave her until you could give her lunch.

"uh..." you hesitated, trying to play it off like you were too focused on mashing up bananas.

"oh come on," sydney said. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."

"you saw me last week."

"that was seven days ago. you didn't even come to the game earlier this week. what was that about?"

the words were on the tip of your tongue, the truth dangled in front of you like low hanging fruit, but you couldn't get yourself to say it. not in his home, not when he would be getting home shortly, not in front of ella, even though she would never be able to repeat it.

sydney said your name. "are you there?"

you sighed through the receiver. "i'll be there."

"great! i'll pick you up!" she said before hanging up.

you and ella ate in silence until mat came through the front door. ella immediately squealed and threw her bananas in the air, some of which landed in her hair, other pieces ended up on the floor.

"ella bean!" mat smiled as he dropped his things on the ground.

he walked over and you shot up out of your seat to walk into the kitchen under the guise of grabbing paper towels to clean up her mess.

"how was she?" mat asked, taking over your job in supervising his daughter eating her lunch.

you shrugged even though he couldn't see you. "she's been fine. it's been a normal day."

"are you coming to the game tonight?" he asked. truthfully, he'd asked you earlier that morning, or maybe the word begged was a better word to use. you could tell he was disappointed that you hadn't gone to his game earlier that week, but he was never going to pressure you.

"yeah, we're riding with sydney."

"do you have anything to wear?" he asked.

your back was turned, so you didn't see the hopeful gleam in his eye. so when you shrugged and said "sydney said she would get me a shirt," you didn't see the way his shoulders sagged and how the corners of his mouth turned down.

when you turned back around, he was back to looking happy.

you started cleaning up the banana off the floor while mat handed ella her water cup.

"she takes a nap right after lunch, right?"

you looked up at him to find him already staring at you. his hazel eyes felt like they could see right through you, like they could tell you were pulling away and wanted to know why.

you nodded, rendered speechless by his gaze.

"i'll put her down, i've missed her." he booped her nose which made her immediately shriek and squeal. "i don't have to be at the arena for another two hours, so you're free to do whatever."

you expected as much, after his first long roadie, mat wanted to do everything concerning ella. considering he got back earlier that week before having a home game two days later, he hadn't been as present as he would like.

and the result was always a clingy mat.

"sounds good," you said.

maybe you'd text sydney to hang out at a coffee shop for the time being. or maybe you'd lock yourself in your room under the guise of napping while you stared at the ceiling and wondered how you got into this situation.

as ella finished up, the idea hit you immediately.

erin, the woman who you nannied for first.

when mat put ella down, you snuck out the front door and across the hall, praying she would be home. you knocked and waited, fully expecting to turn around and go back to mat's apartment.

you stood outside for all of five minutes before turning back around and heading back into mat's apartment.

"everything okay?" mat asked when you walked back inside the apartment. he was just coming from putting ella down if having one of the baby monitors in his hand was any indication.

"yeah, i'm fine," you said. "i'm just gonna go lay down for a little while."

"oh," he replied. "thought we could watch one of those reality shows you like. felt like i haven't seen you in awhile."

you gave him a small smile. "rain check? i'm really tired."

mat smiled back, though it wasn't as confident as it usually was. if you looked hard enough, you could see the edges of it shake, like he was doing his best to keep up appearances.

but you headed back to your room before you could do something stupid like apologize for the emotional distance and ask for forgiveness.

you got got into bed and stared at the ceiling, only taking your gaze off of it to turn your baby monitor on. you weren't sure how long you were in that borderline comatose state, just repeating jason's cutting words in your head, when ella woke up.

you got up when she cried, fully expecting mat to be gone by then, considering it had been an hour and a half. but you walked into ella's room to see him pulling her out of her crib in his game day suit.

and it should've been illegal to see him snuggle and kiss her cheeks. to witness him cooing back at her as he changed her diaper. you leaned against the door frame, unable to keep your heart from soaring at the sight. just to think, a month and a half ago, he was terrified, now he was changing a diaper like he'd done it his entire life.

he didn't notice you until he turned around and nearly jumped ten feet in the air at the sight of you standing there. "jesus fucking christ," he said. "you scared me."

you couldn't help yourself. "you don't say," you quipped with a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

mat closed the distance between the two of you and passed off ella. "i hate to run, but--"

"you don't have to explain yourself to me," you said. "we'll see you later."

he nodded and booked it out of the room, but not before pressing a kiss to the side of ella's head.

you heard the door lock behind you a beat later.

you and ella spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around before it was time to start getting ready for the game. you had her dressed in her barzal jersey and a coat while you slapped on a pair of jeans and a tank top, waiting for sydney to bring you the shirt you'd end up wearing.

it was a quarter to six when sydney knocked on the door. she had her daughters with her. winnie immediately went to see ella, who was sitting in her playpen with one of her toys in her mouth.

"you look cute," sydney commented before tossing the shirt at you. without even thinking about it, you tugged the shirt over your head and threw on the jacket you had laid out on the couch.

"so do you," you replied while slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder. you quickly scooped ella up and looked at sydney. "you ready?"

she nodded as the two of you got three kids out to her suv. you had ella in one arm, her car seat in the other, with her diaper bag weighing heavily on your shoulder.

fifteen minutes had passed by the time you got all the girls in the car and strapped in yourselves. you thought everything was normal until sydney turned the music on a little louder and looked at you from the corner of her eye.

"what's going on with you and m-a-t," she spelled out his name probably as a precaution to prevent winnie from picking up any details.

you froze, but tried to play it off. "what do you mean?"

sydney rolled her eyes. "don't play dumb. you asked me for a shirt to wear tonight instead of raiding his closet like you usually do. you didn't go to the game earlier this week under some flimsy excuse."

you sighed, knowing you had been caught.

but sydney wasn't done.

"not to mention, m-a-t asked me what happened at the bar because you'd been distant ever since and hadn't talked to him about it." sydney sighed. "i'm not mad," she said. "i just want to know what's going on with you, i thought things were going well. you two seemed..."

you looked over at the blonde. "seemed like what?"

she shrugged. "just thought you two were a good fit is all."

you groaned. "syd--"

"but we don't have to talk about it, i just think you need to have a conversation with him sooner rather than later."

whatever you had to say was cut off by winnie screaming out the lyrics of baby shark.

the five of you arrived with an hour left until the puck drop. thankfully, the wags rented a suite which meant you didn't have to contend with a huge crowd and ella didn't have to feel confined to just one seat the entire night.

grace along with the other wags greeted you and ella with grace offering to take ella from you in exchange for a margarita, an offer you couldn't turn down.

when the boys came out for warmups, you went with sydney and her daughters and ella down to the ice. ella fought the headphones on her head, she kept reaching for them but you had to pull her little hands away so she wouldn't hurt her ears.

it took a few seconds for matt martin to spot the five of you before he was skating over and waving at his daughters and wife. he smiled at you and ella, tapping the glass once before continuing his warm ups. it was seconds later when your mat showed up with a big smile on his face. ella shrieked, and though the sound was lost in the ruckus of the arena, mat looked happier.

your eyes met and the noise died down, even if it was for a brief moment.

you okay? he mouthed.

you nodded and gave him your most convincing smile. it seemed to do the trick because he was beaming back at you as he skated away backwards, eyes locked on yours.

you turned away and caught sydney staring with a smirk. and while she didn't say anything, you could almost hear her train of thought.

when the game finally started, you were all back in the suite. ella was clinging to you, refusing even the idea of being held by someone else. you couldn't blame her, it was getting close to her bedtime and she was always clingy around that time.

you did your best to pay attention to the puck, to the other players on the ice, but your eyes kept finding 13 whether he was on the bench or the ice. he kept glancing around the ice, probably following the puck like you should be, and occasionally talking to his teammates.

you turned when someone nudged you. grace was standing there with a cup of ice water in her hands. "do you wanna sit?" she asked. "i know your arm is getting tired." you smiled and nodded thankfully, following her over to a pair of seats.

she let you sit in silence for just a moment before she started talking. "are you okay? you seem lost in thought tonight."

part of you wanted to be annoyed with the constant interrogation. no one had ever asked you this many times if you were alright. but that thought alone had your heart lurching.

no one had ever checked on you this many times like sydney, grace, and mat had. it was an unusual feeling, and one that made your heart beat faster in your chest while also making your stomach turn.

"i've just got a lot on my mind," you said, hoping the answer would suffice.

grace nodded, like she could recognize when it wasn't worth the effort to keep pestering. "if you ever need someone to talk to, i'm here. i know running into an ex is never fun."

you kept a straight face even though grace hit the nail on the head.

the game continued on with the islanders winning 6-2. but you had been so out of it, if anyone asked, you wouldn't be able to tell them who the isles played against.

you made your way down to the locker rooms with ella sleeping against your shoulder and the diaper bag slung over the other shoulder. you would've put her in the car seat, but after an earlier attempt ended in her crying and screaming for ten minutes before she fell back asleep, you decided to just hold her. grace had the car seat in one hand so you wouldn't have to carry it while holding winnie's hand with her other one so sydney could carry her diaper bag and her youngest.

the three of you waited with the other wags, making small talk amongst yourselves like you had all night.

anders came out first and kissed his wife before greeting everyone else. matt came out shortly after with casey. his attention was immediately drawn to winnie who ran into his legs with zero hesitation.

you waited for ten minutes before your mat came out with his game day suit on and wet hair. it felt as familiar as your mother's homemade cooking.

he smiled when he saw you, anything anthony was telling him didn't matter anymore.

"what'd ya think?" he asked.

"you played a good game."

his gaze drifted from your eyes to your lips then to the baby on your shoulder. his brows creased in confusion. "she didn't sleep in the car seat?"

"we tried, but she screamed and wouldn't settle unless i was holding her."

he nodded before adjusting the bag in his hand so he had a free one to scoop the car seat out of grace's grip. he nodded towards the diaper bag on your shoulder. "want me to carry that?"

"you saying i'm not strong enough to carry it by myself?" honestly, you were supposed to be keeping things professional between the two of you, but you just couldn't help but quip back at him. not when he made it so much fun.

mat rolled his eyes and took the bag off your shoulder and slung it over his own. "let's go home."

day sixty-eight

with christmas approaching, you were spending all of ella's nap times, packing your bags and wrapping presents. thankfully, you had the foresight to ship your family's christmas presents to your parents' house.

it was just a matter of wrapping mat and ella's presents.

you might've gone overboard with ella's presents, spending too much money on books and a stuffed animal you thought was cute. mat's present was different.

it was always gonna be different.

originally, you weren't even sure if you were going to get him a present considering you were trying to keep things professional. but sydney let it slip that his present to you was really thoughtful, so you immediately left the apartment as soon as mat got home.

in the end, the tie felt a little impersonal, but you added a note, heartfelt enough to not be insulting, but maintaining an air of professionalism. you kept the presents in your room, knowing mat wouldn't try to guess what you got him if it was out of sight.

mat had roped you into decorating for christmas, a tradition he hadn't honored since moving out to new york, but with it being ella's first christmas, he was going all out.

with ella's first christmas approaching, mat's family made plans to fly in two days before to attend the game. you made plans to leave the city so his family didn't have to get a hotel room and you could miss the christmas eve traffic.

your bags were packed by the door while mat got ella ready.

"who's driving you to the airport?" he asked at the dinner table the other night.

"no one," you said after you'd swallowed your food. "i'm taking an uber."

mat made a noise in the back of his throat. "no you're not. i'll drive you. what time do you have to be at the airport?"

"mat, it's not that serious."

"it is to me. so again, what time do you need to leave?"

mat came walking down the hallway with ella all bundled up against the cold weather that was raging just outside the window. snow flurries were falling down at a rapid rate, something that might've concerned you had mat, a canadian, not been the one to drive you.

he handed ella off to you before scooping your bags up in one hand and opening the front door with the other.

"you don't have to carry my bags, mat."

"well, you're carrying my child, so why would i make you carry bags on top of that?"

"you could've carried ella!"

"not when i was planning on carrying your bags! now let's go, you don't want to miss your flight, now do you?"

the three of you headed out to his car and loaded it up. mat placed your bags in the trunk while you strapped ella in before you both hopped in the front and headed towards the airport.

"you excited to see your family again?"

you nodded. "it'll be good to see everyone again."

"you don't have any relatives you'd rather avoid?"

you couldn't help it, a laugh burst out of your mouth without your permission. "actually not this time around but--"

an alert on your phone cut you off.

flight BA4739 has been cancelled due to a mechanical issue.

"you've gotta be shitting me," you said.

mat glanced at you before quickly turning his eyes back to the road. his attention, though, was still on you. "what happened?"

"my flight's cancelled."

mat eased into the right lane and began the drive to the apartment. "are there any flights you can catch?"

you were a step ahead of him, checking every possible flight out of jfk and shaking your head when you came up empty handed. "it doesn't look like it." you sighed and pressed your head against the head rest. "god, i'm sorry mat. i know your family is coming in tomorrow and this puts a dent in things."

he scoffed. "it's fine, just means they'll have to get a hotel, but i can take care of that easy."

your eyes shot open. "mat, don't put them in a hotel, i can find someone to stay with."

"i'm not kicking you out of our home. that's ridiculous."

you clenched your jaw to keep it from dropping at his statement. mat said it so plainly, it was almost like it wasn't a big deal.

"mat--"

"listen, you're not going to a hotel, that's final. when we get home, we'll check for the next flight out and i'll buy the tickets."

"you don't have to--"

"consider it my christmas present to you," he said like there weren't presents under the tree with your name carefully written on them.

you rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

when the three of you got back to the apartment, you grabbed ella while mat took the bags. the second you three were settled, you were pulling out your laptop and double checking for flights. when you couldn't find anything, you sighed and resigned yourself to a white christmas in new york.

day sixty-nine

you and ella were dancing to christmas music in the living room when the barzals came in through the door.

"let me see my grandbaby!" nadia said, dropping her purse on the couch.

you handed ella over immediately, though you hung around for a second to see if she would cry. but ella just smiled and stuck a fist in her mouth.

liana came through next, hugging you briefly before turning her attention to her niece.

a man who you'd never met but knew to be mat's father walked in carrying bags of his own with mat following behind him. you fully expected to be bypassed in favor of ella, and you wouldn't even blame him. but he stopped in front of you and placed the bags on the ground at his feet. with a heavy hand he'd placed on your shoulder, mike barzal began to speak.

"thank you," he said. "thank you for taking care of my son and my grandchild. when we heard the news, my wife and i were trying to figure out what to do, but then mat called a few days later and sang your praises." he squeezed your shoulder gently. "i can't tell you how much it means to us knowing that you're here taking care of ella and helping mat."

you managed a smile, not really having the words to communicate how much having mat and ella has changed your life.

mike squeezed your shoulder one more time before walking over to where his wife and daughter stood.

mat approached you next, the bags he carried in were resting by the door.

"i can sleep on the couch, or go out and buy an air mattress and sleep in ella's room," you said. "just say the word."

mat rolled his eyes and elbowed you lightly. "quit it. this is your home too, i'm not kicking you out."

"i hope i didn't hear you offering to vacate your room," nadia turned around and faced you, quirking an eyebrow. "we're not going to make you leave."

"you wouldn't be making me do anything, i'm offering--"

"and we're denying the offer," she said matter of factly. "there's a nice hotel not too far from here."

"i don't want to split up your family for christmas!"

nadia approached and with the arm not holding ella, she reached out and squeezed your hand. "sweetheart, you've been taking care of my babies, you're family to me now."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"i'm sorry you don't get to spend christmas with your family," she started. "but i'm glad i get to watch you open the presents we got you in real time."

your jaw dropped. "mrs. barzal you didn't have to--"

she shook her head. "you deserve to be appreciated, sweetheart." then she directed her attention to ella. "isn't that right, baby?"

liana turned her attention to you. "are you going to the game tonight?"

you shook your head. "i'm going to grace's to help with last minute decorations for the team christmas party."

"are you taking ella?"

you shrugged. "i figured i'd leave that up to you. i can take her if you'd rather focus on the game and not a cranky baby.

nadia pressed kisses to ella's cheeks, enough that the little girl shrieked with laughter. "let's play it by ear, if she's cranky before the game, she can go with you, if that's alright."

you smiled and nodded.

as the day went on, ella stayed in pretty high spirits, even when mat left to head to the arena. she took a lengthy nap which gave nadia enough confidence to take her to the game. you ubered to grace's house, a secret that was meant to stay between you and liana, who saw you ordering the ride.

you arrived at grace's house five minutes before the puck dropped. in true hockey wife fashion, she had the game pulled up in the living room so you could watch while you worked. sydney's daughters were camped out in front of an ipad, watching bluey while their mom came in and out of the room with bags of groceries. grace's daughters, you were told, were already in bed.

"where's the baby?" winnie asked when she saw you.

you couldn't help yourself and laughed. "she's at the game."

"why aren't you with her?"

you smiled and squatted down to look her in the eye. "her grandparents are watching her, so i came over here to help."

winnie furrowed her brows, scrutinizing you. "but you're her mom, you're supposed to be with her. my mom is always with me."

"i'm not ella's mom, winnie. i'm her babysitter. like when your parents go out sometimes and they have a babysitter watch you? that's my job."

"then where's her mom?"

you opened and closed your mouth a few times before you realized the words just failed you. there was no way to say the truth other than plainly.

so you shrugged and said "i don't know."

sydney and grace rounded the corner and smiled when they saw you, greeting you with hugs.

"so it shouldn't take too long," grace started. "we're just adding a few decorations, sydney's gonna help me in the kitchen with prepping some of the food for christmas." her attention turned to you. "do you think you can handle the decorations around the house? it should just be the downstairs and the railings up to the second floor. nothing too extravagant."

you looked at the totes of decorations numbering in three total on the floor. "i can do that," you said.

grace smiled wide. "thank you, thank you, thank you!"

you smiled back and immediately got to work. it wouldn't take you long, the house was already pretty decorated, but grace had gone about and beyond and insisted on getting stockings for every player's family still in town, which was more than half the team. there was a table in the front entrance where you put the players' stockings and laid them out in neat rows.

on the stockings, there was the last name of the player with names below it being members of their family. marty's had sydney's, winnie's, and alice's name below his own. sorokin's just had his own name. but you hesitated when you pulled mat's out of the tote.

barzal was in big letters with ella's name underneath.

and then your own.

you blinked over and over, thinking maybe you were hallucinating.

"i hope i didn't overstep!" grace's voice startled you out of your stupor. "when mat told me you were staying in town for the holiday, i went ahead and added your name. do you know if his parents and sister are joining us?"

you shook your head. the plan was you'd be with the barzals christmas eve and christmas morning, but christmas night, when you went to the lee's house, nadia, mike, and liana would stay back. as far as you heard, anders had extended the invitation, but they declined it, not wanting to impose.

grace nodded. "okay, sounds good then!" she made a move to walk away but stopped when she saw the look on your face. you weren't quite sure what she was seeing from her perspective, but your mind was racing and your feet felt like lead. "are you okay? you seem in your head."

you shrugged. "just trying to figure things out."

"is everything okay with mat? you two seemed fine not too long ago."

and you were. but you hadn't told sydney or grace about how you slept in the same bed as mat the night you ran into your ex. and you weren't going to share that now. they'd both read into it, think things were different than they actually were.

"i just miss my family," you said.

it was clear she didn't believe you, but thankfully, grace let it go. she walked back to the kitchen while you continued to lay out the stockings.

you finished with the stockings shortly after, not sparing another glance to the one with your name on it.

it took another thirty minutes to finish the decorating before you joined grace and sydney in the kitchen. you took a seat at the bar and watched them prepare some of the dishes for christmas. it was mostly just chopping and putting things into pans and oven safe dishes.

you were halfway listening to the chatter happening between the wives when your phone buzzed.

liana told me you ubered to anders'?

mat.

you texted back, a small smile on your face. sydney was already here, i didn't have a ride otherwise.

could've asked me to drop you off.

two hours early? no thanks.

well, stay there until the game is over. i'm picking you up.

you rolled your eyes, but still couldn't keep yourself from smiling.

"what's mat saying now?" sydney asked.

"huh?" you asked, head snapping up to see two smirking blondes staring back at you.

"mat," grace said. "what did he say?"

"how did you--"

"you only smile like that with him," sydney explained. "certainly never smiled like that around your ex, the one time i saw him with you."

at the mention of jason, your stomach churned, but you kept up appearances.

you, grace, and sydney were chatting on the couches when the front door opened with matt, anders, and mat walking in. winnie, who was originally dozing off, popped up from laying on the couch to see her father standing there. she smiled and ran over to him.

anders walked in the living room and kissed his wife.

which just left you and mat, staring at each other across the room and not saying a word.

"how was the game?" sydney asked.

all three of the hockey players shrugged in unision. "fine," anders said before collapsing on the couch next to his wife. "how was your night?"

grace looked at you and sydney before smiling and turning to her husband. "i'd say it was productive and fun." you and sydney hummed in response.

matt came and sat next to his wife and a sleeping alice who was in sydney's arms. which just left an empty spot next to you and mat who was still standing in the doorway.

"barzy, you gonna come sit or stand there awkwardly?" anders chirped.

almost like he was snapped out of a daze, mat walked over and took the seat next to you, leaving about four inches between your hips and his. almost immediately, he threw his arm over the back of the couch behind your head.

you turned and looked at him for a moment, forgetting about the other people in the room. "ella with your parents?"

he nodded. "i offered to take her, but my mom insisted on putting her down."

"did you score at all tonight?"

he grinned and nodded yet again, but it was marty who cut him off.

"should've seen him! two goals, one assist."

your jaw dropped as you looked back at mat. "that's insane!" he immediately beamed at your reaction. your eye contact was broken up when his phone vibrated. mat's face twisted into a frown before he stood up and offered you a hand.

"hate to rush off, but my mom just said ella keeps crying and won't go to sleep, so we gotta go."

marty and sydney stood to their feet, each carrying a child. "we should also be heading out," matt said. anders and grace stood up a beat later, offering to walk all of you to the door.

matt and sydney exited first, with you and mat trailing behind them. mat's hand rested lightly on your lower back, something that had your knees trembling.

grace and anders hugged all of you goodbye and promised to see you in two days. they stood on the front porch and watched as all of you got into your respective cars.

mat didn't say anything until he was pulling out of the neighborhood. unlike the times before, the silence wasn't tense or awkward, it was just calm.

"did you have fun?" he asked.

"yeah, it was nice seeing them outside of hockey games and bar meet ups." you yawned.

"missed you at the game, it wasn't quite the same without you there."

"you scored twice and assisted on one goal, i'd say you did fine without me."

"could've gotten a hat trick if you were there."

you furrowed your brows, but there was a small smile playing at the edges of your lips. this felt normal, like nothing had changed, just you and mat. "how do you figure?"

he shrugged. "i always play better when you're there."

you almost did it. you almost asked him why. but you were scared of the answer, scared of what it would change.

scared that it wouldn't change a thing.

he's not gonna fall in love with you.

it was only a matter of minutes before you were back at your apartment. the two of you took the elevator to get to your floor.

you could hear ella's cries through the front door as mat hastened to unlock it. the second the door was open, every head turned towards the two of you. mat shut the door while you walked over to where liana was holding a crying ella.

ella immediately reached out for you, rubbing at her eyes when she finally settled on your hip. "sorry," you apologized to mat's family.

"what're you apologizing for, sweetheart?" nadia asked. she squeezed your arm before ushering her family to the front door. "we need to get to our hotel and get some rest. we'll see you three tomorrow."

"bye mom," mat kissed his mother's cheek and hugged liana and mike before walking them to the door and locking it behind them.

you stared at him, even as he turned around and made eye contact with you. you finally noticed a line on his forehead that you missed earlier.

you gestured to your own forehead. "you have a line right here..." you trailed off.

mat reached up a hand and felt for it before rolling his eyes. "it's from my helmet, dumbass."

you gasped and covered the one ear of ella's that wasn't pressed against your collarbone. "in front of the baby?"

"you said worse two days ago when you hit your hip on the kitchen counter."

you rolled your eyes, which seemed to be a recurring theme between the two of you that night. "i'm gonna try to take the queen to bed, wish me luck."

"i can put her down if you want," he said but you were already walking down the hallway and waving him off.

it took twenty minutes to settle ella down enough to go to sleep, and by the time you hit your mattress, you were out like a light.

day seventy-one

you woke up when the sunlight peeked through the blinds. your heart immediately shot to your throat when you realized you couldn't hear ella's sound machine through the baby monitor. the panic didn't settle when you turned over and realized it was off.

you jumped out of bed, barely remembering to throw on a sweatshirt over your tank top, and threw the door open.

you were immediately greeted with the sound of christmas music coming from the kitchen. it wasn't until you rounded the corner and saw mat making eggs with ella on his hip that you finally relaxed.

mat turned around at the sound of your heavy panicked breathing. his brows were furrowed and he moved the pan off the stove when he saw you were winded. "are you okay?"

"the monitor was off, i'm so sorry i thought i turned it on last night but i forgot--"

"i turned it off this morning," mat said. "figured you deserved a chance to sleep in."

ella smiled at seeing you and reached for you. mat didn't hesitate to walk her over, probably to make it easier to cook breakfast. you took ella and cherished the snuggles she gave you.

"when is your family coming over?"

mat tapped his phone, presumably to check the time or his texts. "fifteen minutes or so?"

you spared a glance outside. "will they be okay in the snow?"

"uh oh, mama bear's coming out," he teased. "we're literally from canada, my family will be fine."

you nodded, feeling heat crawl up your neck at the slight overreaction and concern.

the three of you sat at the table, eating the eggs and sausage mat made. normally, when you were with your family, you'd eat homemade cinnamon rolls, but maybe this year was about changing traditions and embracing them.

you picked up your phone and called your mom, waiting for her to answer. when she didn't pick up, you just shot her a quick "merry christmas" text and telling her to call you back when she gets the chance, that you couldn't wait to see her tomorrow.

by the time the three of you finished breakfast, his family was knocking at the door, greeting the three of you with an excited "merry christmas" when mat opened the door. while they got settled, you took ella out of the high chair and carried her into the living room.

you sat on the floor in front of the recliner and plopped ella in your lap while mike and nadia brought their wrapped presents in. mat and liana were the ones to pass them all out while their parents got situated on one end of the couch.

you were surprised to see some presents for you written in handwriting you knew did not belong to mat, part of you fully expecting nadia to have been bluffing two days ago.

when the presents were passed out, mat took the seat behind you in the recliner, even going as far as to let you lean against his shin for support.

"now, i don't know how you do it in your family, but in the barzal family, we going youngest to oldest, and we record everything," mike said, holding his phone up. "our sweet ella, though, is the first person to take away liana's long standing reign over opening presents first."

mat got out of the recliner, choosing to sit on the floor on your left, seemingly to help ella open her presents. you scooted back to use the recliner as back support now that mat was sitting next to you.

you heard a beep, presumably of mike's camera starting to record.

"let's open this one, ella bean," mat said to his daughter. he started ripping it at the edge, carefully placing the present in front of her and waiting to see if she did anything with it.

ella stared at it, but otherwise seemed uninterested

"look ella," you said, reaching around her and tugging the paper a little more.

she was uninterested until she heard the distinct sound of ripping. then she tried it for herself, laughing and clapping her hands when it made the noise she liked.

her first present was a puzzle made up of the letters of her name from liana. her next present was from nadia and mike, a box of playpen balls. you couldn't wait to open them, to get her settled in her playpen with them and watch her entertain herself.

mat helped her open the books everyone had bought her. he must've told his family she'd gotten into reading lately, because you weren't the only one contributing to her library.

mat's present to ella was a walker. she'd started crawling a few weeks ago, and mat was determined to get her to start walking before the end of the year.

your last present was the last one for her to open. it was just in a gift bag, and ella thoroughly enjoyed taking the tissue paper out once she got a hang of it. but nothing could've prepared you for the shriek that left her mouth when she saw the stuffed hippo.

you didn't think you'd ever seen her smile that big.

she reached for it with grabby hands, bringing it to her chest when she got it.

"guess we know her favorite gift," mat chuckled.

the rest of the morning was filled with the other presents being opened. you ended the morning with cute sweaters and a barzal jersey.

"so you can stop wearing mat's," liana had said. "figured you'd at least want something clean to wear to games."

mat had mumbled something under his breath, but when you asked him to repeat himself, he just pressed a kiss to the top of ella's head and kept his mouth shut.

when it was mat's turn to open gifts, you could feel yourself flush with embarrassment when he opened your gift. you didn't know the platonic way of saying "i got this because it would bring out your eyes," so you settled with "i thought you'd like it."

and he did, he swore it would be the tie he'd wear in the first game of the new year when you got back in town.

nadia made a wonderful christmas lunch. it was light because she knew you were going to the lee's in a matter of hours, but still better than anything mat could've cooked up.

it wasn't long before the three of you were saying your goodbyes with mike, nadia, and liana all promising to come see you soon, and to thank you for taking care of their newest addition.

just like any other time the three of you left the apartment, you carried ella while mat grabbed the diaper bag.

ella sat in her car seat, snuggling her hippo while mat drove.

"you must be pretty proud of yourself for that hippo gift," he said.

you smiled at him, reveling in the way he'd occasionally take his eyes off the road to look at you. "i am. i have an extra one in my closet just in case this one gets messed up."

his jaw dropped. "you're a fucking genius."

you weren't the last ones to get to anders' and grace's house, but you surely weren't the first. there was a line of cars parked on the street, none of which you recognized.

"are we taking the car seat inside?" you asked when mat put the car in park.

his hand paused over the door handle. "do you think we should?"

you shrugged. "we could always come back out and get it if we need it. but i'm willing to bet that she's gonna be passed around like a hot potato tonight."

mat rolled his eyes but sighed anyway. "as long as dobson doesn't hold her, it'll be fine." with that, he got out of the car and opened the back door to grab the bag.

"wait why?" you asked, getting out and unbuckling ella. "what's wrong with dobson?"

"he's like 23!"

you blinked. "am i missing something? why is that a problem?"

"he's too young to hold her, he'd do something dumb like drop her."

you rolled your eyes as you picked ella up, but said nothing.

the three of you were immediately accosted by christmas music and food smells when you walked through the front door of the lee house.

"you made it!" grace exclaimed, coming out of the living room to greet you. "grab your stocking and head to the couches, i think my husband is gonna do a toast and then we'll get started on dinner."

you nodded along and turned to look at mat who hadn't said anything. your heart dropped straight to your toes when you saw him pick up the stocking that made your mind go blank the other night. his fingers traced over his last name, then ella's name, then yours. he hesitated on yours though, fingers running over it like it was something delicate.

it felt weird to watch that moment, like you were intruding on something private, but before you could look away, he looked up at you. "did you see this?" he asked.

you nodded. "saw it the other night. are you mad?"

he quickly shook his head. "nope. just caught off guard." he glanced back down at the stocking before looking up at you and smiling. "let's get on with this, shall we?"

the night started with anders toasting to the team, but more importantly the wives and girlfriends and support behind each member who'd played a large role whether they realized it or not.

mat nudged you at that moment, which earned him an elbow in the side and a wink from anthony who stood next to him.

when they broke off for dinner, mat offered to take ella so you could get your plate first, but you declined, saying you could wait a few more minutes.

while he was gone, sydney approached. "so, how was this morning? get caught up under any mistletoe?" she nudged you. "get any sentimental gifts?"

when you thought about it, you didn't really. the gifts you got, while amazing, weren't tear jerking, which was surprising considering sydney had said mat's gift to you was thoughtful.

but what was thoughtful about a spa gift card and some bath bombs?

"nope, just the typical gifts, you know?"

sydney's face twisted a little before it righted itself when mat came back with a plate of food.

"got you what i thought you'd like," he said, handing the plate to you.

your brows furrowed. "i thought we agreed you'd eat first."

but he smirked. "no, you did."

"mathew. go eat!"

he shook his head. "not before you. now, let's trade, i'll take my child and you take the plate and go eat with sydney and the other wives if you want." mat handed the plate to sydney before taking ella and walking away before you could say anything.

you watched him walk away for a moment before turning to your friend, only to find her already looking at you. "what?"

she had a smirk for reasons you weren't sure you wanted to know about. "oh nothing."

the night continued on without much fanfare, with you and mat leaving around the same time as the martins again because of the children all three of you brought.

you'd made it back home before midnight. mat this time, wanted to put ella to bed, making sure to leave the hippo out of her crib.

you were in your room packing the last bit of your things so you could leave tomorrow and fly home. you were in the zone until you heard a throat being cleared. when you turned around, mat was leaning up against the doorway with a box in his hand.

"i know you're probably tired, but i have one last present for you."

"mat--"

"i didn't want to give it to you in front of my parents and liana, just seemed too personal." he offered no other explanation and just handed you the box.

you took it carefully, going to your bed and sitting down on the edge to open the present. when you pulled the lid off the box, you were staring at tissue paper until you pulled it away to reveal a photo album.

oh god.

it was the thoughtful present sydney had talked about.

you immediately pulled it out of the box and started flipping through it. the photos were some you'd never seen before, but they were all of you and ella. until you got further in, the photos went from just you and ella to you, mat, and ella.

you looked like a proper family.

sydney or grace must've had a hand in it, because half the photos you didn't remember being taken and they were all candids.

you could feel your eyes water, you noticed the pressure. but you kept wiping at your face to prevent them from falling onto the album itself.

you looked up at mat who looked the most unsure of himself since that first night he had ella. "i hope it wasn't over stepped, i just figured you would like to see how important you are to me, to us, me and ella." he gestured at the book. "some of the photos i took, others i got from grace and syd. i hope it's not weird or anything--"

but you were already up and crossing the room towards him.

a beat later you grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his lips to yours.

he responded not even a split second later, his mouth moving against yours. mat's arms came around your waist while your hands made a home in his hair.

was kissing always supposed to be this charged? to feel this right?

you had no idea how long you stood there, kissing mat, before you both pulled away to breathe. your eyes opened slowly, only to meet his hazel irises almost immediately.

and then reality hit you.

jason's words haunting you at just the right time.

he's not gonna fall in love with you. you're a no good bitch who didn't know what she had when she had it.

you pulled away instantly and stumbled back into your room, dodging mat's hold when he tried to reach out for you.

"what's going on?" he asked. "what just happened?"

you shook your head and grabbed your bag, moving past him without making contact. "this was a mistake," you said. "i have to go."

god you felt sick to your stomach.

mat was calling your name, but you kept walking, out the front door, down the stairs, and onto the street where you hailed a taxi.

it wasn't until you got in that you exhaled.

what the fuck had you done?

taglist:

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#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb #mat barzal blurb

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sapphire-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Long Day (modern!Aemond x Reader)

summary: Balancing life has been increasingly stressful. Aemond helps you relax.

warnings: mostly fluff! kissing, grinding, teasing

word count: 1.8k

note: we're at the point in the semester where some fluff is desperately needed. quick little fluffy story, hope you enjoy!

When you enter your dimly lit apartment, classical music is playing from the record player Helaena gifted you for your birthday last year. You’re arriving home much later than usual as seems to be the theme for the past couple of weeks. It nearly broke your heart to text Aemond again earlier, telling him you had to stay late at work.

Aemond is seated in his usual spot on the couch, a book in front of him, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—your favorite pair of his; the round ones with the brown frames. A cream-colored cable-knit sweater covers his torso, a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lower half.

Vhagar sits in the space between his legs, curled up and purring softly. She’s always most content around Aemond, though she’s grown accustomed to your presence since you moved in together. She lazily opens a green eye, and Aemond turns his head at the sound of the door closing. He smiles at you, before returning to his book.

“Hello, love,” he softly greets, turning a page.

“Hey,” you answer with a sigh, unable to hide the exhaustion from the day.

Aemond looks up from his book again, closing it with one hand. He knows you so well, if your voice is even a little off he catches it. You hang up your raincoat and place your shoes on the neighboring rack. It’s been raining nonstop for the past week; the weather matches your mood.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” you tell him, walking toward the living room. You deposit your bag on the armchair before sitting next to him on the couch, “Just a long day, that’s all.”

Aemond hums, placing his hands under Vhagar who meows unhappily as he gently places her on the floor. She shakes, tall puffing in annoyance and glares at you, knowing you must be the reason for her disturbance. She trots away, her tummy pouch swinging as she disappears down the hall.

“C’mere,” Aemond beckons and you scoot closer, leaning into him.

He places an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer as you tuck your knees under you up on the couch. Leaning into his chest you breathe in the scent of his cologne. You can’t help but feel tears well in your eyes as his hand strokes a path down your arm and you unconsciously snuggle closer to him, sniffling slightly.

“What happened?” Aemond asks again, his voice soft and low.

“Nothing,” you insist, “I mean, nothing happened I’m just…stressed that’s all.”

Aemond is quiet for a moment, continuing his smooth strokes on your arm. You can hear the steady beat of his heart through the sweater he wears, the sound comforting.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really,” you admit.

“Okay,” he agrees.

You stay beside him for a few moments in comfortable silence before he speaks again.

“Tell you what,” he murmurs, “How about you unwind, take a nice shower, and get all comfortable and I’ll make you something to eat.”

You glance up at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Grilled cheese?” you ask hopefully.

“With soup?” he asks, and you eagerly nod causing him to chuckle, “Coming right up.”

Reluctantly you pull yourself away from him, but the promise of a home-cooked comfort meal is enough encouragement to get unready. You take your time in the shower, Vhagar sitting outside the glass doors and licking the condensation that forms from the steam. Showing yourself some love you use every single product you own; scrubbing, lathering, and deep conditioning yourself into a state of euphoria.

You wrap your fluffiest towel around yourself and take the extra time to dry your hair before throwing it into a claw clip. Scooping Vhagar with you, you walk down the hall to your bedroom, depositing her on the bed. She used to resist when you tried to carry her, but now she’s as limp as a ragdoll and brushes herself against you in appreciation before curling up between the pillows.

Aemond’s shirts are the comfiest to wear, they engulf you like nothing else. It’s a bit chilly tonight, and you instead choose a large sweater of his. You tease him about it, calling it his ‘old man sweater’ due to the pattern. That, paired with your favorite silk sleep shorts, and you’re in a much better mood. Heading back toward the kitchen, your stomach rumbles at the scent of chicken soup.

Aemond stands at the stove, mixing his concoction. He’s lit a few candles and turned on the fairy lights that hang around the ceiling giving your apartment a warm glow.

“Sit,” he orders, giving you a small smirk.

Happily you pad over to the couch, throwing the blanket over your bare legs. Aemond is over not a minute later, placing two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup on the coffee table, and then returning with two grilled cheeses. Eagerly scooting forward, you grab the sandwich and take a bite. You barely suppress a moan, along with your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Seven hells,” you mutter, taking another bite; the cheese pulling into long strings of gooey perfection.

Aemond chuckles, “Is it good?”

“I’m in love with you,” you tell him, sighing contentedly.

“You know, if that was the first time hearing you say that, I’d be insulted,” he teases.

“Why?” you ask, “Wasn’t it your chef skills that won me over in the first place?”

“You’re very funny,” he says, smirking slightly.

You sit with Aemond, feet thrown across his lap as you eat dinner together. Aemond chooses one of your favorite films to put on in the background as you chat about his day and enjoy your soup. Aemond finishes first, he always eats rather quickly and begins massaging your calves trying to release some of the remaining tension in your limbs.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he says, broaching the topic once more as his hand slides down to your foot.

You let out a small groan of appreciation as his fingers move lower to dig into the arch of your foot.

“It was just a lot today,” you admit, “I just feel like I’m burning out. It’s just a lot to balance with everything going on…”

“I know love, you’re almost there,” Aemond encourages, “It won’t be like this much longer, and you’re doing such a good job.”

His praise warms you like a fire, the sincere look in his blue eyes making your heart sing.

You pull your legs from his grip and shuffle forward, bringing your lips to his, kissing him sweetly before burying your face against him as you did earlier. He pulls you close, arm wrapped around you and tracing lazy circles on your thigh underneath the blanket. You rest against him, listening to his heartbeat as the movie drones on. Soon, lulled by the sound of his heart, your eyelids become heavy and you slip into sleep.

It feels like you’ve been sleeping a long time. When you open your eyes you’re still in the living room, the clock displays the time is 2 a.m. Aemond sits, awake still, trapped underneath you. He’d settled for his Kindle this time and held it in one hand, turning the page with the tap of his finger.

“Aemond,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep as you push yourself into a seated position, “You should’ve woken me.”

“It’s alright,” he insists, placing his kindle down on the table beside him, “How’d you sleep?”

“Very well,” you admit, sitting back on your haunches, “Gods. It’s late.”

Aemond hums in agreement, watching you stretch your arms above your head, revealing a sliver of your stomach. He reaches out, unable to help himself, placing a hand on your hip. You drop your arms, smiling at him lovingly.

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” you answer, scooting closer, “I happen to have the best boyfriend.”

“Oh, do you?” he asks, tugging you closer by your thigh.

You spread your legs, letting him drag you across his lap until you’re straddling his waist. Leaning forward, you nuzzle against his neck, placing soft kisses along his throat as you wrap your arms around him. Aemond releases a soft groan, his hands palming the swell of your ass and you wiggle against him, getting as close as possible.

One of his hands snakes underneath your sweater, his large palm pressing into the small of your back. A shiver rolls down your spine and you swivel your hips against him.

“Baby…” he murmurs, turning his face toward you and placing a kiss on your cheek.

“What?” you murmur, nipping the pale skin of his throat. Aemond’s hand runs up and down your back, the other gripping your thigh. You can feel him growing harder beneath you; the increasing pressure between your legs growing with every shift of your hips against his.

“I should put you to bed,” he groans as you press your lips against the cool metal of his chain, “Fuck issa rina dōna (my sweet girl).”

You smile, dragging your lips to meet his in a slow, sensual kiss. Once Aemond starts slipping into High Valyrian, you know you’ve got him where you want him. His lips are soft and warm against your own as you continue to kiss him at an unhurried pace, simply enjoying being close to him.

You sigh as his lips move down, tracing the curve of your jaw and finding a home below your ear, kissing the sensitive spot there as you drag your nails across his scalp.

“Tell me what you need, gevie,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Need you, Aem,” you tell him, “Please, just need you.”

“Shhh I know, I know,” he gently coos, “I’ll take care of you issa jorrāelagon (my love).”

You and Aemond stay up much longer than anticipated, finally retiring to your shared bedroom as the first beams of sunlight begin to trickle through your windows. When you wake you’re snuggled against Aemond, the blankets cradling you both in a warm cocoon.

“I’ve called out for you,” Aemond tells you as you’re pressed against his chest, “You’re going to spend the whole day in bed.”

“Aemond,” you giggle, “I can’t possibly be that lazy-”

“Oh yes you can,” he insists, arms tightening around you, “I’ve called out as well. So you’ve nothing to worry about.” He places a kiss on your head before hovering on top of you.

“Now,” he says, head dipping to kiss your collarbone, “Let’s quiet that beautiful brain of yours, shall we?”

“Oh?” you breathe as he continues to kiss up your neck, “And how do you plan to do that?”

Aemond hums against you, and you can feel his grin.

“Well, we’ve got all day to find out, haven’t we?”

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kayharrisons · 28 days ago

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If you got a boyfriend, I'm jealous of him. But if you're single, that's honestly worse [Tyler x Reader x Bjorn] [NSFW, 18+ ONLY]

He doesn't know what's worse; his cousin's girlfriend or the fact that he can't get her off his damn mind.

A/N: 18+ only!!! i promise igddtdts is STILL in the works but I wanted to get this lil brain bunny out ehehehehe yes the song is a line from gorgeous by taylor swift also PS this is a FIC in no way do I condone cheating or anything like that so like. Don't go out and do that, it's bad!!!!! I'm DEBATING a part 2 for this but we'll see

Warnings: jealous behavior, possessive thoughts, Temptation™️, cheating, Bjorn knows he's fucked up here but he makes no efforts to change LMAO, exhibitionism, accidental overhearing of Sex, Cheeky Wank Mention™️, sexual acts, Tyler's face gets ridden, unprotected sex (wear a condom!!!), reader is a lil bit of an attention seeking minx ehehe, footsie

He can't stand her.

Tyler's new girlfriend is a sweet thing, always attached to him at the hip, it seems.

She works down at the housing offices, had met Tyler when he'd came by to pay rent and sparks had flown. Or some shite.

Tyler is head over heels, acting like a fucking sap most days. It's not surprising, he'd acted as such with Rain when that doomed relationship had been a thing.

But Rain and Tyler had broken up (damn near split the entire group too, fuck you very much), had been over for some years now, it was natural for his cousin to go out and get out there again.

Hell, Bjorn had encouraged it. In less than polite terms, of course.

But damn, did Tyler need to get fucking laid. His cousin had been tense more often than not, always frowning, always moping.

Sad sod.

And so, he'd met her.

He'd made some dumb joke about rent that Bjorn couldn't even bother to remember, and she'd supposedly found it hilarious, and bam, here they were, going strong a year later.

He hadn't minded her, at first.

Sure, her laugh was always the loudest, easy to pick out amongst others. She laughed way too easily, seemed to find everything funny.

Sure, her smile was the brightest, brighter than any star Bjorn could recall seeing. It was toothy, framed by perfect lips, which looked oh so sof-

But then that had started.

His thoughts tended to wander, now.

She would show up to the shitty bar they'd deigned their hang out, wearing those damn pencil skirts that hugged her hips and backside just so, or those slacks that made her legs look longer. Her blouse would be untucked, a button or two undone and her elegant neck exposed. Sometimes her eyes locked with his for a beat too long and he felt a fucking current shoot up his spine.

Innocent enough.

But oh, how Bjorn had thought about tearing that skirt right off of her body, collapsing to his knees and feasting on her pussy until the only name she knew was his. Hell, he'd do it in front of Tyler, if he had to, just to get the fucking point across-

Fuck, he was fucked.

If there was a hell, he was going straight there. Normal blokes didn't fantasise about fucking their cousin's girlfriend. A cheeky wank or two over it, maybe, but god, Bjorn felt unhinged.

He could feel his self control slipping, with every interaction, with every meeting of eyes.

He felt insane every time he saw his cousin's hands on you. An arm around your shoulders, a hand on your thigh, a finger tucking your hair behind your ear.

All instinctive, sweet touches between a couple. Nothing offensive.

And yet Bjorn wanted to set himself on fucking fire every time he saw it.

Jesus, maybe he needed to get laid.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

You let out a strangled moan as Tyler licks another hot, wet stripe from your core to your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair as you ground down on his face.

"That's a good girl," he groans, hands tightening on your hips, rocking you to and fro against his face. He gently sucks your clit into his mouth, before soothing it with his tongue, releasing it briefly. "Always ride my face so fuckin' well, darlin', always look so fuckin' good using me to get yourself off."

"Tyler-" you damn near sob, bucking your hips faster, and faster, as you feel that ever familiar tightening sensation that signals your orgasm is approaching. "Baby, fuck- I'm so fucking close-"

He groans again, removing his mouth and staring up at you, panting softly. His handsome face is soaked in your slick, his eyes dark as they hungrily rove over your figure. A boyish grin lights up his face as you whine. He stands to his full height, towering over you as he backs you over to your desk.

"The blinds aren't down-" you hiss, only to be silenced by a kiss that tastes of you.

"So?" he hums, nosing at your neck, kissing his way down to your collarbone, where he lightly nips a mark into your skin. He kisses further, over your clothed breast, swirling his tongue against the pebbling nipple. "All people are gonna see is me fuckin' my girl, just the way she wants it."

You moan softly, rubbing your thighs together at the thought. It's sinful, downright naughty, even. But it gets you... well, hot. Thinking about someone happening to glance in, to see Tyler balls deep inside of you, making you forget your own name.

Fuck, it makes you damn near gush a fucking flood.

Tyler smiles that boyish grin again at your moan. "Such a good girl for me," he coos, as he unzips his jeans, shoving them down his legs along with his boxers. He pumps his hand up and down his shaft once, then twice, gathering the precum slowly forming at the head and stroking it up and down his cock with a stifled sigh. "Fuck, jesus- you want it-"

"Raw," you whisper, leaning back on your desk, legs spread wide for him. "Wanna feel you, Tyler. Need you to cum inside me so fucking bad, baby, I've been aching for it-"

He groans again, stepping between your spread legs and rubbing the head of his cock through your wetness. Both of your breaths catch in your chests, your eyes locking as he finally pushes his cock inside of you.

Your twin moans echo in the small building. Thank god it's your lunch break.

He doesn't start off gentle, like he usually does. No, neither of you have the patience today. The pace is damn near brutal, his hips snapping fiercely against yours, your cunt aching in the most delicious way possible as he fucks you hard and fast.

It's a miracle your desk is still standing, by the time you're done.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"You alright, cuz?" Tyler grins as he claps Bjorn on the shoulder, collapsing into a seat beside him at the bar.

Bjorn grunts, not quite looking at him as he fidgets with the tab on his can of beer.

Tyler arches a brow. "Fucks sake, must've been a shite day if it's got you all quiet."

Rather the oppsite, Bjorn wants to spit back, Got to hear your girlfriend moaning and begging to get filled with cum, got enough material to fuel a thousand masturbation fantasies and fucking more. Close the blinds next time you fucking exhibitionist.

He of course says none of that.

"Summit like that." Bjorn shrugs instead. "So where's-"

"Hey," you grin, sliding into the seat beside Tyler. Bjorn almost groans.

Of fucking course it was the skirt today. God, he hoped some fucking grunt would come along and fire a pulse rifle into his head.

"Sup?" he greets, barely looking at you.

You're well used to Bjorn's behaviour by now but...

Well, that won't do.

You're in love with Tyler, yeah. Absolutely devoted to him alone, but...

You like the attention that Bjorn desperately tries not to give you. You like the struggle of watching him try not to stare at your ass in a skirt, or your tits in your blouse. You like watching his jaw tick and his knuckles tighten on his glass whenever Tyler gets handsy.

It's thrilling.

It's maddening when his eyes aren't on you.

God forbid he even thinks about looking at another girl.

You shift in your seat, crossing one leg over the other, completely casual.

Your foot stretches out, casually gliding up and doen Bjorn's calf. He tenses, looking at you with confusion, his brow furrowed in thought. Perhaps he thought you'd aimed for Tyler and missed.

You meet his eyes, sliding your foot up his calf, over his knee, up his thigh...

He inhales sharply, taking a sip of beer as he listens to Tyler chat about his work day.

You toy with the zipper of Bjorn's pants. Of course, you can't unzip but...

The feeling of something getting firmer beneath your touch sends a thrill down your spine, makes your pussy pulse with want. Your eyes meet Bjorn's again, and oh fuck, if the sight of the blue of his eyes being taken over by his pupils doesn't make your cunt fucking damn near gush...

You remove your foot, watching Bjorn's fingers tighten on his can, his eyes burning into your face, trailing to your lips, down your neck, your breasts...

His eyes snap up to the mark on your neck, his nostrils flaring as he leans back in his chair, throwing back the rest of his can in one smooth gulp.

"Gonna head," he grunts, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair and holding it on his lap, glancing between the pair of you. "Enjoy yourselves or whateva, alright? Try not to fuck in front of everyone, yeah?"

And he's off, before you or Tyler can even say a word. Tyler watches after his cousin with concern, brow pinched and frown of worry firmly set into his handsome face.

"What's up with him?" He ponders, and you hum, taking your eyes off of Bjorn's backside in order to smile at him.

"No idea."

#alien romulus #alien #bjorn alien romulus #bjorn x reader #tyler harrison x reader #bjorn alien romulus x reader #tyler harrison #tyler harrison x reader x bjorn

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tojipie · 1 year ago

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for the lovely @honeybleed ‘s milestone collab event ! wrote this little drabble based on this song:

content: drugs, alcohol, strip club setting, no actual smut but def not pg

thinking about being his fav dancer at the club <3

toji always comes to the club alone. tall, broad, always clad in a suit. thick hands hands that remain perpetually stuck under the bikini tops of the girls keeping him company.

the older man likes to nurse a bottle on his days off, long fingers dwarfing the neck of a sweet liquor you can't pronounce. he smells like it the first time he walks by you on his way to the private dances he can't help but pay for every night. you wonder what his lips taste like.

his composure is iron solid. unbreakable. the man didn't bend for any drug, drink, or woman. not that you were stalking him (you were). you watch him down bottles that would put any normal man in the ER, taking casual swigs in between feeling up the gaggle of dancers fighting for his money. he doesn't seem dunk, not even once. brushing it off like he does every night.

you strategize, subtle yet deliberate. memorizing his schedule to a T, dolling yourself up a little extra on the nights he comes in. word from the other girls was that it was easy to get his attention-- the real challenge was keeping it.

you catch him looking at you across the dimly lit club one night, eyeing you up on stage while another girl feels him up over his dress slacks. his hands falter over her waist as you turn your back to him. a sign that maybe, just maybe, you've piqued his interest.

toji doesn't look away for a second, taking you in with practiced skill. you know he's locked in when he shoos the other dancer off, raising his glass to you in a way that herds you over like a lamb.

you feel warm all over when you straddle him, giggling at how strong his legs are. heat radiates off his body in waves. the man's lower half is spread wide and corded with muscle, holding your lower half up as you rub and grind all over him.

toji hisses at the bold display, tucking a wad of 100s into the seam of your bikini. a generous client, rare but appreciated. he leans in, husky voice cutting through the booming music.

“you new here?” he mumbles, slipping a single between your cleavage. you feel the pad of his thumb slip under the thin ties of your bottoms, rubbing back and forth in the junction between your heat and your thigh.

“no, you know that,” you tease, pivoting to straddle him cowgirl style.

"smart girl," he praises. "knows when she's got my attention."

the air hangs heavy with an unspoken promise as the near stranger continues to spoil you. slowly, you turn, dropping to your knees in front of him to sit at eye level with the part of him you've been curious about this whole time.

"might have a new favorite girl after tonight, huh?" he leers.

#toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji smut #jjk toji #toji headcanons #toji imagine #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #toji hcs #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #dilf toji #toji #toji drabbles #toji x you #toji hc

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year ago

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Charter

Warnings: boss JJ & his employee, 5 year age gap, oral, protected sex.. might make this a series.

I forced a grin as my dickhead of a boss strolled in, his red work shirt cut into a cut off and his hat on backwards. I tried not to stare along with every other female in the shop as he joined me behind the counter, plastering a smile to his face as he faced the customers. It was hard not to stare at his sun kissed muscles or the clench of his jaw or the blonde mop of hair that was curling under his hat.

“How’s it going, boss?” I asked, wanting to fill the silence after watching him flirt with another married woman. Who knew women were so interested in fishing gear?

“It’s going.” He grumbled, before giving that charming smile to a group of teens buying shirt’s. I’m pretty sure they’d purchased every single one we carry but whatever.

The rest of the night went like always. He was talkative to everyone but me, I stocked shelves, his blue eyes caught mine as he glared at me and I tried not to roll my eyes. He was so hot but he was such a moody prick. I often wondered why he even hired me if he was going to be so shitty all the time.

“Your money is in the back.” JJ finally said as I flipped off the lights and locked the doors at close.

“Thanks.” I chirped as I followed him in the back, the money drawer tucked under his arm. I grabbed the envelope of cash with my name on it from next to the safe and tucked in my pocket as I waited for him to ready the bank deposit for Monday. I hauled myself up on to the work bench, my legs swinging as I scrolled through my phone. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally the lights were flipped off and I set my phone down just as I felt him near me. My heart started to race when I felt him brush up against my knees, forcing my legs to part. I couldn’t see more than an outline of his body in the dark but I could feel the heat radiating off him. The need.

“Now you want something to do with me?” I taunt, tracing my finger up his forearm. A moment passes and I feel his breath on my face, the mint gum filling my head.

“Shut up and take your shirt off.” JJ said softly, making my insides tighten as I obeyed.

I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head before reaching back to flick the clasp of my bra open then dropped it too. His hands found the tops of my thighs and I panted as his groin made contact with mine. I could hear how hard he was breathing as his hand came up to palm my breast. I arched into his touch, filling his hand with the flesh. His free hand did the same, massaging and kneading the flesh then tweaking my hardened nipples. I was rocking against him for friction, my body screaming for more when he stopped.

“Get on your knees.” I nearly moaned hearing his voice deep with lust just as I heard the clink of his belt.

I lowered myself to the floor, my hands finding the tops of his thighs when I felt the smooth tip of him kiss my lips.

“Suck.” I didn’t have to be told twice. I swiped my tongue of his slit, circling it before sucking it into my mouth. I heard a gasp of air leave him as sucked on the swollen tip, his precum coating my tongue. When his hands yanked my hair free of his tie, I took him deeper as he started to control the pace. I gagged, my knees screaming from the hard floor but I didn’t stop. Just when his grunting comes quicker and I know he’s about to cum, the ring of his phone has me nearly jumping out of my skin like someone had caught us. I’m even more surprised when he digs his phone out and answers it while keeping one hand in my hair.

“Yea?” JJ says calmly into the phone, keeping his voice even and lust free. I move my hand to his balls and he jerks, hand tightening in my hair.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” A pause.

“Alright, thanks.” JJ hangs up and I’m hauled to my feet, his hands quickly undoing the buttons on my shorts before bending me over the workbench.

“Have to make this quick.” JJ grunts from behind me.

“Somewhere else you need to be?” I hear the tear of a foil packet, my body trembling with anticipation.

“Actually yes.” Then he’s pushing inside me. I open my mouth on a moan, his cock too big to go in easily without any foreplay, but his hand slaps down over my mouth as he pulls my body upright against his. I could feel him everywhere, he was so deep.

My nails dig into the workbench as he starts to fuck me hard and fast. I moan into his hand, his heavy breathing in my ear as he fills me up over and over again. I wasn’t sure how we got here. I didn’t think he could stand me but I was the only one who didn’t put up with his bullshit and didn’t drool over him all the time. One night we were arguing then he was fucking me and we just never seemed to stop. The only thing he’d said after was this stayed between us or I could go work somewhere else. I didn’t tell him that he paid more and with cash so I kept my mouth shut. Even if it was because more of the fact that he fucked me like no one had ever done before and less about the job. I should be partly ashamed of myself since I don’t know a goddamn thing about him aside from being my boss. I know he’s a live or die Pogue, especially with the word tattooed around his knuckles on one hand. I know he’s five years older than I am. I know he runs a very successful charter and doesn’t know a stranger but that’s it. I know nothing about his personal life or his friends or what he does when hes no longer inside me. He could have a wife and kids at home for all I know but he never wears a ring on his ring finger, just on the others.

“Focus.” JJ growls in my ear, making my breasts bounce with every harsh thrust. I arch my back, pushing back against him as I reach down to stroke my clit. There was something so hot about the fact that I was completely naked and he was fully clothed.

“You wanna cum for me?” JJ covers my hand on my clit with his own, making me apply more pressure while his other hand muffles any noises I make. I nod, my body tensing as fire fills my veins and my insides tighten.

“Let go. Let me feel this tight fucking pussy squeeze the life out of me.” My mind and body shatter at his filthy words, everything going black for a moment as he fucks me through my climax while stroking my clit hard until I’m panting and trembling. I can’t hold myself up any longer and he pushes me down on the table, fucking me so hard the workbench slaps the wall until finally he stills with a breathy moan, making my toes curl as he fills up the condom inside me.

I shudder as he pulls out, leaving me aching and empty, while he discards the condom and buttons his pants. A moment later he’s pulling my shorts and panties back up and handing me my shirt and bra.

“I have to go.” He says urgently so I quickly redress and follow him to sit the alarm. We don’t say anything as we exit the back door after setting the alarm. His steps are quick as he goes towards his truck but he suddenly drops his keys with a curse just as I hear the FaceTime ring on his phone. I don’t mean to ease drop but I’m parked behind him on the street and when he answers, a child’s voice has me stopping in my tracks.

“Hi daddy, are you on your way?” My heart sinks. He does have a kid at home. Or kids. A daughter specifically. One that has him grinning ear to ear as his snatches up his keys and unlocks his truck.

“Yea princess, I’m on my way.” His truck starts and pulls away before I can even unlock my door. I don’t think I know how right now.

JJ Maybank has a daughter.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #obx2 #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #dad!jj

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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

A/N: Are things really getting better?

Warnings: honestly I don’t think this one’s that bad—comparatively, nodding instead of communicating, progression that I was not emotionally prepared for.

Word Count: 5,528

-Part 5- -Part 7-

“You could move in with me.”

Golden eyes meet your own, shining with sincerity. Maybe that’s the sunset.

Lips quirk, attention returning to the Sidra. Marking the small diamonds of teal and turquoise that gleam between the multitude of reds and yellows. A beautiful rainbow of colours. “Funny, Bas.”

“I’m serious,” he says, eyes weighing on your cheek. “You could help out, if you’re worried about being a burden. You’ve got the brains for it—it’d barely take any effort.”

You shake your head, firmly dismissing the idea, “it’s not that… I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?” He asks, clothing shifting as he readjusts himself. You peer down into the river, allowing the breeze to push and play with your feet—hanging over the ledge. Beneath you, Bas has laid a picnic blanket, the two of you sat cozily, side by side.

“It would be too much,” you reply, looking down the river. Peering at the restaurants that line it’s bank, preparing for the influx of customers that sweep in around this time. Eager to watch the colours flicker and dance. “I can’t ask that from you.”

Bas blows out a deep breath, the air bubbling from his lips. Laughter creeps into your eyes as they flick to him. He raises a single, dark brow, amusement gleaming in his gaze. “You know you sound like a horse when you do that.” Bas grins, full lips pressing together as he repeats the sound. Your own hurt as they stretch into a smile, “stop it. This is supposed to be a serious conversation.”

Amusement dances in his eyes as he takes in your feigned glare. “You didn’t seem to be taking it particularly seriously,” he counters, tucking one knee beneath his chin, propping it on his forearm as he watches you. Locks obscure some of the gold in his eyes as he peers at you from beneath a raised brow. “And your solution was to whinny like you were sulking?” You shoot back, smiling faintly.

“Well, maybe if you actually rode your horse from time to time, he wouldn’t be so grumpy,” he mutters playfully. A surprised laugh bursts from your lips, landing a knock to his shoulder in chastisement. He doesn’t so much as budge—merely smiles, propping his jaw on his arm instead of keeping the lower portion of his features obscured.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing about,” he grins, watching the Sidra reflect in your eyes. “I’m laughing at the fact you would willing compare yourself to a horse,” you return. “Why not something more majestic? Like a lion?”

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m a lion?” You try to suppress your smile—why do you even bother when you’re around him? “Would you rather I compare you to a rat?” Bas barks a laugh, loud enough to draw a few sets of eyes, your own widening at the volume.

“Your flattery could use some work,” he says, still smiling. Tension releases your shoulders, breath easing from your lungs. A cool breeze flutters by, making you shiver. He shifts closer.

“What’s stopping you?” He asks gently, allowing the quiet to calm the two of you. Lips purse, teeth prodding your lower one. “I just couldn’t,” you murmur, “like I said: it would be too much.” His brow narrows, attention remaining solely on you.

“How?” He asks. “It would just be for a little, yeah? Until you find something to do.”

“But what if I don’t find something to do? Then I’d just be a dead weight, and I’d have to go back without having done anything,” you say, softly. “I wouldn’t be able to face them.”

Bas shifts again, lowering both legs over the edge, his thigh pressing to your own. “You’re smart. You’ll find something.” You roll your eyes at his false confidence. “You have nothing to base that on,” you smile, attention briefly flicking to him. “But I appreciate the reassurance.”

“Nothing to base it on,” he scoffs. “You read essays for fun. What other sources do I need?” You release an indignant huff, stubbornly setting your gaze back on the river.

When he figures you’re ignoring him, his hand darts behind you, quickly pinching your backside, before returning to his lap. You start, then turn to glare at him, “Bas.” He gives you one of his grins, and you falter. Heat settles in your lower belly. “I think it would be a nice arrangement, don’t you?” He drawls, roughly. “You wouldn’t have to sneak around as much. Could just roll out of bed and straight into mine.”

Something dark and syrupy gathers between your legs and you glare at him harder, heat warming your skin. “We’re in public, Bas,” you chastise, eyes darting around to make sure no one detects the shift in your scent. No one except for the male who’s leaning in a little closer now, nosing at your throat with interest. “Then maybe we should go somewhere else, yeah?”

Golden eyes lock with your own, darkened with hunger. It hits you like a kick in the stomach; muscles practically melt. “You’re way too good at that for my liking,” you breathe, already having trouble looking away from his mouth. Lips lift into a smirk, sharp eyes gleaming, “well I get a lot of practice, don’t I?”

Teeth push into your lower lip, and all it takes is the few seconds you look away from him to make up your mind.

You need a night to empty your head. To feel again.

And Bas is the perfect relief.

————

The story repeats itself, more familiar to you than anything else in your life.

Hot breath tickles the nape of your neck, lips lifting into a helpless smile as you attempt to move out of the way. Arms wrap snugly around your waist, dragging you across the mattress, back flush to his naked front. Hair brushes against you, clean and rough, making you squirm in his grip. Vaguely trying not to wake him.

It’s over when he huffs a soft laugh onto your skin, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs. “Bas…” you laugh quietly, rolling over to face him. Golden eyes cut into your own, already clear despite sleep weighing his lids. “Trying to sneak away?” He asks, mouth quirked in a faint grin. You roll your eyes, noting the beams of sunlight streaming in from the circular skylight. Brow furrows, “what time is it?”

His expression mirrors your own, raising to peer over your head at the old clock mounted on the opposite wall. “It’s eleven thirty. About.”

You groan into his chest, ducking back beneath the covers. Count to seven. Pop back out. “I should be going, shouldn’t I?”

Bas quirks a brow, watching you fondly, well-accustomed to the questions you ask yourself. Watches as you sigh again, then roll over, allowing you to leave. Especially when it gives him a view of your lovely body, softened by sleep as you move lethargically to find your clothes. Pick them up. Set them on the bed. Move for the washroom. He uses the time to steady himself.

In retrospect, you were pretty quick—the two of you up and out of his house before the hour hand struck one. Walking up the short path through the garden that leads to the River House before half past.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, yeah?” He checks, hands tucked into his pockets. Casual and at ease. Comfortable in his skin.

Lips quirk playfully, “greedy.”

His mouth matches your own, “you’re just as bad as I am. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I’m not the one who was at attention first thing in the morning, Bas,” you whisper, smiling as his golden eyes gleam. “I’d be a little confused if you were, dove. Very flattered, though.”

Lips part in a grin, cheeks aching from your time spent with him. “Okay, I’ll drop by in a few days,” you smile, aware of your own reluctance to return to the house. “Try not to lose your head in the meantime.” Hand presses down on the handle, door swinging open, a gust of cool air greeting you.

Bas grins—one of his grins. “I’d be happy to give it to you,” he teases, eyes gleaming with amusement and a drop of sincerity. “Whenever you want, dove. It’s your call.” Heat flushes your skin at his offer—what even sex can’t decriminalise to your mind. He retreats a step, gold flashing in the sun as he grins easily, “you can’t hide from it forever. One day, yeah? I’ll show you how good it can be.”

You want to reply, but he’s already sauntering off, hands still tucked in his pockets, casual and leisurely. Bastard.

His offer repeats, how nonchalantly he regards that particular intimacy. As if it doesn’t go against the very root of human society. The foundations you were brought up on. Highlighting a primary difference between here and where you grew up. Women aren’t supposed to enjoy sex, let alone have it to themselves.

Sighing, shoulders weighed down, you allow the door to close at your back. Already missing him.

Walking into the entrance hall, you spot a parcel sat atop the entrance table, beside the vase filled with flora. Eyes flick about the room, checking no one’s around as you make for the stairs, aiming for your room.

“You aren’t going to take it?” Azriel asks, appearing in the doorway leading to the sitting room. You still, blinking. Turn around warily. “Pardon?” Hazel flicks to the package, “the parcel. Aren’t you going to open it?” Attention moves to the table between you. “That’s not—… I didn’t get anything?” You say, shifting on your feet.

“The note says it’s for you,” he replies, remaining the other side of the room.

Debate your options. Slowly walk forward, picking up the package. The note is indeed carrying your name. Flip it over to read its underside. In a clean, elegant script is scrawled: For your education.

Brows narrow, turning the parcel in your hands. No note saying who it’s from. Maybe it’s a late birthday present? “Thanks…” you murmur, absently, “I would have walked past it.” Eyes squinted in confusion, you make to turn around, interested in unwrapping it. Discoveries to be made.

“Eris left it.” Azriel states quietly. Intrigue vanishes, feeling like you’re holding scorching coals.

Gaze lifts to meet his own. “He did?” It seems he enjoys stirring up chaos.

Azriel nods, attention never leaving you. “Did he mention what’s inside?” You ask hesitantly, loosening your grip on the hard rectangle. He shakes his head in answer, making you sigh.

“And I suppose you want to know what’s inside?” You ask, grim smile on your lips. His throat rolls, eyes flicking away. “I would appreciate it if you let me know once you open it.” Blink away your surprise. Nod slowly. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Okay.”

Hastily clear your throat, emotion clogging your chest. Turn to head to your bedroom. “Are you feeling better?” He asks, again causing you to stop. Peer at him close, wary. “I am…” you hedge, watching him closely.

He nods, “good.” Shifts on his feet. “I’m glad.”

Your heart skips a beat, staring at him with poorly concealed surprise. Something flickers in his gaze, eyes briefly flitting away from your own, allowing you to shift your features to cover what you’re feeling.

“Yeah, I had… I had a good morning,” you mumble, peering down at your feet to hide the flush on your cheeks. He hums in acknowledgement, and your toes curl in your shoes, something warm and tender spreading across your breastbone. “Pillage any bookstores while you were out?” He asks, enough sincerity to have your lips stretching wide into a grin, cheeks aching all over again, painful enough you have to try to force it away.

“Not today. I thought I’d leave some for Nesta,” you reply, meeting his gaze. His features are neutral, but the edges of his irises are softer—warmer than normal. You quickly look away, stomach fluttering wildly. Too many butterflies suddenly resurrected for you to handle.

A peaceful quiet calms the room, allowing you some time to temporarily bask in the warmth of his approval.

“About our conversation, a few days ago…” he begins gently. Carefully. You shift on your feet, but don’t flee from the spot.

“I’m sorry for how I went about it,” he settles on. “Eris… There are some awful people in this world, and what he did to Mor…” he blows out a breath, shoulders loosening some of their tension. “I wouldn’t want that happening to you because he’d managed to convince you he could be trusted. I couldn’t forgive myself if that happened,” he admits quietly. “None of us could.”

Your heart rises up into your throat, pounding wildly as your eyes meet. Hazel calm, and steady. Tough and reassuring. You manage a weak nod of your head, fingers tightening on the package. “It’s fine,” you say gently, too overwhelmed to manage much more. “I’d already… You don’t need to apologise,” you reassure, fighting to keep your voice from trembling. “I’d practically forgotten.”

His eyes flicker, then he nods, accepting your assurance. “Then I won’t keep you any longer.” You nod back, mirroring the movement, “yeah. Okay.” It takes you a moment to remember yourself, clutching the parcel tighter, “I’ll go open this now, then.” You give him a smile before you turn, managing to ascend the stairs without turning to see if he’s still there.

Lungs hold at full capacity, near bursting with something warm and fuzzy as you peel back the brown paper, removing the string keeping it together. Take a few minutes to scan the pages of the volume, attention flitting mindlessly over diagrams and neatly written essays, quick to reach the end. It looks interesting, titled: Prythian: An Anthology of Discoveries.

While flicking through, you catch glimpses of constellations, depictions of your solar system, detailed illustrations of the planet closest to your own—further from the centre. Near the end, one in particular catches your attention: three overlapping ovals, appearing to make up a six-petaled flower that contains some small dots at its heart. Intriguing. Utterly fascinating.

You reach the final page, and make to flip back to the beginning, intending on reading each passage in detail, but—you’d said you’d let him see. He’s trusting you to follow through, and you’re not going to disappoint. Not now he’s allowing you some leeway.

So you hop to your feet, and make your way to where you saw him last, happily handing it over for inspection. Hazel flicks over the cover, taking in the title, scanning the first few pages in detail before shutting it again. “Thank you,” he says softly, “I’ll go through it quickly and then you’re free to read away.” A smile lifts your mouth, heart fluttering as you nod your head. “It’s fine,” you say, “take your time. I get you’re busy.”

Then you turn, not wanting him to see the deep flush on your cheeks—embarrassingly warm—and hurriedly make your way back to the silence of your bedroom. Clean and tidy, at last.

Heart pounding, you lean against your door. Replaying the gentle talk he’d given you. It’s been too long since he’s acted like that, breathing becoming shallow at the memory alone.

Slowly, you inhale a deep breath, pressing against the wood as you slide down, until you’ve reached the bare floor. Hand slides across your chest, feeling the drum of your pulse. Hold the breath to steady your lungs.

And when that breath releases, relief crushes down with it.

Finally.

Finally, you’ve gotten something right.

————

Days pass in a blur, and you find yourself pondering what to wear.

Bas had told you to find him in a couple of days, and quite frankly, you’re looking forward to it. Azriel will be done with your book soon, too. Probably either today or tomorrow, making your heart flutter. So many exciting things happening all at once! So many things to be happy about! It’s exhilarating.

The sky is clear as usual, sun beating down onto the cobbled streets. The flower baskets hanging either side doors and windows sway, leaves and petals glowing in the warmth, curling at the edges. You should wear something loose, to keep cool.

Before you know it, you’re ready and dressed, descending the staircase when knocks are landed to the front door. Golden eyes gleam with mischief when you answer, refreshing breeze sweeping in, playing with your skirts. He’s in the front garden, dark locks tied back, a few that aren’t long enough to reach framing his features. The carved beauty of his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the spark in his eyes…exhilarating.

“Bas,” you greet, smiling. “What are you doing here? Did you miss me?” He rolls his eyes, hands remaining tucked at his back, something rustling as he shifts. “Just making sure you weren’t going to chicken out, dove,” he says cockily, lips parting in a familiar grin. “And, well, I got you these.” From behind his back he pulls out a paper wrapped bouquet, containing pink and white baby’s breath. The flora is dried to keep it preserved, so it will store nicely in your room, without demanding any particular care.

Your can feel your features stretch as a smile overtakes your entire face. “Bas, are you serious?” Tentatively, you accept the menagerie of flowers, eyes gleaming as you peer into the swirl of colour, so complimentary to one another. He shrugs, “you seemed down last time. I thought these might brighten you up a little.” You meet his gaze, gold soft around the edges, and you feel yourself melt a little inside. “Thank you, Bas. You really didn’t need to.” You turn back to the bouquet, smiling.

“I wanted to,” he replies, nonchalantly. “So go put them up in your room, yeah? Then we can go out and have fun.”

You nod absently, making to head back inside, “where did you even find them? These don’t look endemic to the Night Court?”

“New shop,” he calls, “had all these long names in the window. Guessed you’d like stuff like that.” Lip press together in a smile, hurrying into the entrance hall and up the stairs, setting them on the table before returning. “Did you pick these out because they were the nicest or because they had the most complicated name?” You hop down the last step, mindlessly glancing at the table in the centre of the room.

“You couldn’t waterboard the title out of me,” he admits, a smile lighting his eyes. “Something like Gyrophilia Panicrolilia.” A snort bursts from you at the tangle of consonants.

“Gypsophilia Paniculata,” you amend, “from the Caryophyllaceae family. Same as carnations?” Bas sighs, “of course you know the name.”

“No,” you laugh, trying to make it clear you’re being sincere. “I just read a book on botany the other day. Otherwise I swear I wouldn’t have known. It’s a coincidence.” Bas gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you, making you smile wider. “Well, shall we?”

You’re about to cross the threshold when you hear your name being called from the sitting room, boots lightly scuffing on the floor as to not surprise you. Stiffening, you turn to face Azriel, stood in the doorway. Hazel pierces into you, having already marked the guest at the door. A strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. He doesn’t like Bas. “Yes?” You ask, fingers wringing together.

Boots move forward, making you tense as he steps fully into view, coming to stand at your side. Golden eyes flick over the male, his familiar lips quirking and you send him a sharp glance. He barely managed to keep his mouth shut the last time they collided. “Azriel,” he greets, inclining his head ever so slightly. “Bas,” he returns, features neutral. Anxiety swarms the pit of your stomach, turning to fluttering butterflies when his fingertips graze the base of your spine. Tension seeps from your shoulders, attention helplessly attracted to his gravitational pull.

Hazel remains locked on gold for a second longer than necessary, before latching onto you. Skin prickles beneath his focus, features flushing with warmth despite the breeze. “I thought I’d let you know I’m finished with the book,” he says calmly. “Feel free to collect it whenever you want.” Slowly, you nod in acknowledgement. Swallow. “Okay,” you manage, world fading a little around him. “Is there a time that’d be good for you?” You ask, attempting to steady out your heartbeat.

Azriel pauses, thinking. “After dinner would be good,” he settles on, and you nod.

“Okay,” you answer, “I’ll knock after dinner, then.” His eyes flick to Bas briefly, and you tense. Are either of them going to clash? “Well,” you break the silence, not waiting to find out. “I’ll see you later.” You offer one of your better smiles. He nods, still watching Bas. Step forward, falling into pace beside him, heading out into the bright sun-warmed streets of Velaris.

“You heave really questionable taste, you know that?” Bas states once you’re both down the street, out of ear-shot. Smile, and roll your eyes. “Isn’t that obvious? I spend so much time with you.” He snorts, shoving you lightly. “I’m serious,” he says, eyes gleaming, “you looked like you were about to start glowing.” The laughter stumbles in your chest, coming out a little strained, but you manage to persevere. “Very funny, Bas. Now can we change the subject?” You offer, glaring at him playfully.

“All I’m saying is you picked a difficult guy,” he comments, eyes scanning the shops. Sighing, your attention flits into different windows, picking out all sorts of items and antiquities. “Why don’t you two get on?” You subvert, trying not to peer at him to mark his reaction, “I’ve never seen you quarrel with anyone else?”

Bas shrugs, “how should I know. We’ve barely ever spoken before.” Your brow dips, but he finally seems content to let the subject drop. You’re more than happy to let it slip away.

————

“Come in.”

Toes curl at the sound of his voice, but you gently push away the heat, stepping into his office, scanning the room curiously. He’s sat at his desk, piles of paper neatly stacked a few inches from the edges, ink pots and quills as well as a few daggers litter the remaining space. Typical decoration for him. The room is fairly sparse of personal touch, save for a rug laying atop the floor, muffling to step of your feet.

“Hi,” you say quietly, smiling as hazel latches onto you. Giddiness warms your heart, melting your bones to soft liquid. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

Azriel straightens in his chair, setting aside whatever report he was inevitably filing, giving you his full attention. “No, actually. Perfect timing—I was just finishing.” A sigh breathes from your lips, tension seeping from your shoulders as you step further into the room. “Was everything okay? With the book, I mean,” you ask, automatically seeking out the neatly bound volume.

He nods, standing as he picks it up, handing it over. “Do you know why he gave it to you?” Blink once. Redirect your attention to the anthology, gently plying it from his hands, bringing it to rest against your torso. Like a strange, make-shift shield. “Not really,” you admit. “We had a brief talk about my orrery, but he seemed fairly disinterested.”

“Your orrery?” He asks. “Like the one Rhys has?” Your head raises by itself, meeting his piercing gaze. Eyes sparkle as you nod, grinning, “mine’s a little smaller—by quite a bit, actually. But ‘Lain got it for me and” —you shift the volume into one of your arms, Azriel’s hands flexing at his sides as if you might drop it— “it’s the most beautiful creation I’ve ever seen. It’s utterly incredible. I’d love to show you sometime—it’s so intricately carved, and the texture is rendered so lovingly.” You stop momentarily to ease in breath. “But really, it’s utterly incredible.”

Azriel looks vaguely surprised. “I think that’s the quickest I’ve ever heard you speak,” he comments, gaze flitting to the book, “I didn’t realise you had an interest in science.” Heat flushes your cheeks, torn between clarifying that you aren’t trying to disprove the existence of the Mother, and telling him more about the worlds and the universe. Telling him everything you can think of regarding the subject, actually. It’s all perched on the tip of your tongue, ready to be recited with perfect accuracy.

“Did you have a good day today?” He asks instead, knocking you off your feet. Memories of the stars vanish, replaced by a blank space. Blink once. Twice. Nod slowly. “Yeah…I did,” you answer softly, unaccustomed to being asked after. Clear your throat. “What about you?” You fumble out, “have fun doing your” —peer at the stack of reports on his desk, wincing— “…work?” He nods back, “I suppose. It’s out of the way, now.” You nod in acknowledgement, fingers itching to tangle with one another.

“Okay,” you say, softly, “remember not to overwork yourself…” You chicken out, unable to finish with his name. Toes curl in your shoes. Just the two of you. Two people in one room. Two people alone. Alone together. Heartbeat spikes. Book shifts in your arms. Deep breath.

“I—… There’s something…you might…” you fumble, skin flushing, unsure what to say. “I mean, it might not— You might not need to know, but maybe it would be better to tell you? But I don’t…” Embarrassment weighs in your gut, numbness gliding down your back. His attention weighs into you, making you shift to your other foot, resting the heavy book on your hip. He holds out an offering hand and you mindlessly return the volume, wringing your fingers. Deep breath.

“I…sometimes glow.”

He blinks. Nods for you to continue. Bite your lip.

“It’s only really been my hands…” you say quietly, “but they glow, quite brightly, sometimes. It’s kind of green…maybe a bit yellow? —like Starfall.” He nods again, silently telling you to continue. Tongue flicks out to lick your lips, finding them dry. “That’s…it.” Shift on your feet.

“When did it first happen?” He asks, causing you to perk up again.

“Maybe a month…” —his brows narrow— “or a fortnight ago? I’m sorry, I can’t really…” He nods in understanding. “That’s fine,” he reassures, easily sustaining the weight of the thick volume. Gestures to his desk. You follow him around the furniture obediently. Heart flutters when he motions for you to sit in the chair. His chair.

“Do you remember what you were doing when you first started glowing?” He asks, though his voice is a distant pleasure in your mind. Attempting not to lose your mind as his warmth wraps around you, his scent seeping into your clothing, seeping into your skin.

Your name sounds on his tongue, and you blink, looking up at him. Blink away the fogginess. “Would it be easier to talk elsewhere?” He suggests, gently. Shoulders a little stiff. You swallow, hurriedly shaking your head, “no, I’m fine…just remembering.”

He nods, “if you want to move, that’s fine.” You nod back. Pry your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “It was when we went to the… With Elain? To…” Lips press together. She was going to see Lucien. Hazel flickers briefly, but he waves it off, gesturing for you to continue. Heart flutters. Swallow again.

“And…you know I ended up in the river?” You ask, gently. Dips his head in response. Bite your lip in embarrassment. “Well, I got…quite angry about it.” Surprise lights his eyes, but he keeps his mouth shut, allowing you to finish speaking. Nod to yourself slowly, “and I got back up onto the path and…hit…him.” Dip your head, peering down at your feet, anxiety twisting sharply in your gut. Nausea rising. “Please don’t let him know I told you. He’ll probably be furious if—”

A surprised laugh cuts you off, making you look up at him.

There’s a dimple to one corner of his lips, the edges curved upward, and he’s laughing. Hand covering his mouth, attempting to quiet himself. You stare.

Air ceases flowing.

Mirth dances in his hazel gaze, while the laughter stops as quickly as it started, but… You stare. Eyes lock. You can’t look away.

Azriel gestures for you to carry on. “Go ahead.”

“That was” —clear your throat of the sudden raspiness— “that was the first time it happened.”

“Did Eris see?” He asks, making you stiffen. Yes, he definitely saw.

“I’m not sure…” you hedge, shifting in the seat. “It happened quite quickly, so maybe not?”

“If there was enough time for you to notice, it’s more than likely he did, too,” Azriel reasons steadily, settling back into a strategising mindset. Hard eyes flick to you, “you should have told me this earlier. Why didn’t you say anything on the way back?”

“I was scared,” you whisper. The words out before you can stop them. Humiliation burns through your stomach lining. “Anyway,” you murmur, softly, trying to tuck deeper into the chair. To take up less space in his office. “I only noticed because of the feeling. Not particularly the colour.” Burning is quite difficult to ignore.

Quiet stretches between you, making your nerves wriggle.

“Please don’t be angry,” you manage, looking up at his unreadable features. “I know I should have said something, but I just— There wasn’t a good time,” you finish quietly. Duck your head. You should have told them sooner. “A good time,” he repeats slowly. Processing your excuse.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. Unable to look at him.

Azriel sighs deeply. Flexes his hands. Folds his arms. “You know you should have said something,” he says at last. Bite the inside of your lip. Nod your head. Quiet stretches. “Any information regarding your magic,” he begins, “is information you should not be giving out. It jeopardises our unified front. Imagine if he had brought it up during a meeting without us knowing. Can you see how that would have gone?” You nod your head again.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. Head hanging between your shoulders.

He sighs, weight settling in your stomach. “Better now than later,” he says at last, and relief crushes into your bones. Shoulder slumping as you settle back into his chair. “You should tell Rhys, or Feyre, whoever you’d prefer, and we can start figuring out what’s going on with your magic. Okay?”

You stare at him. Slowly shake your head. His eyes narrow.

“No,” you mange. “No, I don’t— I’m not telling them.”

“You can’t hide your powers,” he chides, giving you a look that doesn’t settle well in your stomach. “You’ve told me. It’s no different.”

“No,” you repeat. Still shaking your head.

“Then I’ll have to tell them.”

“No,” you say, panic working its way into your throat. “No, you can’t.”

“I can,” he counters, “it’s the right thing to do.” Eyes narrow, “why are you against it?”

“I was there, you know,” you remind, gripping tight to the chair. “When Nesta—” Cut yourself off. Try again, softer. “When she was deteriorating.”

“I can promise you won’t be forced to train relentlessly every morning. That was solely to give her something to latch onto.” His brow narrows, watching you intently. “And she’s done well. Very well. You shouldn’t be scared of becoming like her.”

“Give me a month,” you ask, hands gripping the arm rests either side of the chair. “Give me a month, and if I haven’t worked anything out, I’ll tell them.” Azriel pauses, marking the trembling of your fingers.

“A week,” he offers.

“A fortnight,” you counter, joints practically splintering in your knuckles.

Hazel glitters in the low light. Then he nods, reluctantly. “A fortnight.”

————

Arms ache from the bound volume. Dust motes shooting out as it thumps on your desk—pushed up against the wall.

Cough, waving away the particles. Sit down. Stare at the anthology with dull eyes.

It’ll be exciting once you start. Just open the first page, and you’ll be alight again.

(A fortnight.)

Spine creaks as you flip open the book; your brow dips. There should be a stamp of some kind—an indentation to say where to return it to. It’s always right on the inside, yet there’s nothing here.

Frown deepens, running fingers over its insides, tracing the ribbing. It’s thicker than you’re accustomed to. Nails catch a the edges; you blink. Slide deeper, carefully prying the paper from the edge, as if it’s been stuck down from age.

A dull smile dusts your lips, spotting the stamp you’d been searching for. Triumph sparks and dies in the blink of an eye as you pull the paper from the book—clearly misplaced.

Ink catches you attention. Probably an annotation from some past scholar. Raise it to the light to see clearly.

Heart stutters. Take in the clean, elegant script.

Hello, cygnet.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

#CBMTHY #Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You #CBMTHY Part 6 #Azriel #Azriel angst #Azriel x reader #Azriel x reader angst #Eris #Eris Vanserra #Night Court #Autumn Court #acotar #acosf

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imagine-darksiders · 1 month ago

Text

A drabble from that Pseudo x Reader found family fic I never wrote.

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“Everything about you is out of proportion,” Pseudo grunts, gesturing to your hands.

You’re so bewildered by his assessment that you actually whip them up in front of you to give them a thorough examination, as though you might inexplicably find something amiss.

But no. They’re just as they always have been. Two thumbs, eight fingers, not any one longer or shorter than they usually are.

But then, you glance up at Pseudo, and it occurs to you for the first time, that in this strange and wild world you’ve washed up in, you might be the odd one out.

Your eyes wander to his scrawny waist and leathery, honey-yellow skin that’s stretched taut over his midriff, defining abdominal muscles and sinking slightly between the bars of his ribcage. But his chest is distended awkwardly, swollen and bare and by all means overbalanced compared to his middle.

Flicking your gaze up, you take in his neck, stained nearly brown with dirt and battle paint, lending it the look of a body part that’s been stitched on top of his sternum as an afterthought.

It's thick too, almost the width of his substantial shoulders, and it tapers gently until it feeds into a head with no chin, nor any visible nose - just two jaundiced eyes and a wide, lipless mouth that’s tilted into a permanent frown. There’s no hair on top of his head. In fact, the only hair on his body sprouts as coarse, single strands from his temple and grows sporadically down the length of his arms, black as night, like the hairs that used to grow on your grandmother's chin when she forgot what tweezers were.

Even his arms look far too long, and you find yourself regarding them from under your furrowed brow as he stirs the pot that’s bubbling away over the firepit. One hangs a good few inches lower than the other against his muscled thigh, each fore and upper arm extended well beyond the length of a typical human’s. You recall seeing gibbons at the zoo when you were eight, how odd and funny their arms looked…

On Pseudo however, they’re borderline scary. All muscle, no fat. Almost human, not close enough to be mistaken for one.

To Pseudo, a man for whom proportions have always been off-kilter, your unvarying symmetry must be a sight to behold.

Still stirring a wooden spoon around his pot, he suddenly shifts on his four-toed feet and pointedly clears his throat, and you realise you’ve been staring for just a fraction too long.

“Sorry,” you utter, averting your eyes to the firepit and drawing your knees up closer to your chest. You feel his alien gaze linger on your downturned face for a few moments before he grunts dismissively and returns his attention to the pot of boiling broth.

“Well, I think you’re very pretty!” a youthful voice pipes up.

Slowly, you turn your head and quirk a brow down at the little ball of soot-black feathers that has claimed the spot directly beside you.

From within the mass of ebony tufts, two enormous, round eyes blink innocently up at you, golden as treated amber, and the only features visible on the child’s feathered face. There’s a mouth in there somewhere, hidden behind a plumage so black, not even the firelight seems to change its pitch. You know because the Boy – his only moniker, apparently – is much more of a talker than his gruff protector.

No sooner have you met his curious gaze however than he abruptly seems to turn shy, dropping his stare and tucking his small, contorted hands underneath his body to hide them alongside his avian legs, like an owl settling down in its nest.

“Oh?” you prompt gently, watching as a single, slender finger emerges from his feathers to trace mindless shapes in the sandy dirt.

A slight shift in the mass of darkness suggests he’s shrugged his wing, avoiding your eye as he stammers out, “Well, I mean, you’re really nice. And your eyes aren’t scary at all, a-and you’re really soft to sleep on!”

Ah. Yes, you remember that. Well, specifically you remember blinking awake on the cot Pseudo gave up for you - after much arguing back and forth - and finding a small, obsidian shape curled up on your stomach. It had taken an insurmountable effort to refrain from screaming and tossing yourself from the cot before you remembered where you were, and that there was not, in fact, some kind of wild, scraggly beast sneaking into your bed.

You also recall swallowing back the yelp and turning your head to gather your bearings, only to spot Pseudo sitting by the firepit nearby, his sharp, yellow eyes wide and alert, fixed unwaveringly on you.

Apparently, the Boy had one of the best sleeps of his life.

And you, one of the worst.

You can hardly believe it's only been a few short days since you washed up on that beach.

Sighing dismally at the memory, you tune back in to the present and find that the Boy has grown slightly more confident in his affirmations.

He's raised his head to you again, and lowered his voice to a secretive whisper, golden eyes squinted shut with gleeful mischief.

“Not like Pseudo,” he tells you, “He’s like sleeping on a rock.”

That tracks. You've seen first-hand Pseudo's proclivity for martial arts. Nobody gets that good without some fierce and rigorous training that's left his body one, solid muscle.

You’re not sure that being nice and soft constitutes pretty, but you’ll take the compliments as they were intended.

“Thanks, Kid,” you smile, prying an arm away from your knees and laying your palm gently on top of his head, smoothing back his tufted ears and earning yourself a contented warble from an unseen throat, “You’re very cute yourself.”

At that, you see his eyelids flatten and he harrumphs, grumbling, “M’not cute.”

A sudden roll of soft laughter draws your gaze back up to Pseudo, who’s standing with a hand on his jutted hip, regarding the pair of you with the beginnings of a fond smile stretching the corners of his unusual mouth. “Hate to disagree with you, kid, but you are,” he teases.

The Boy whines, and the tip of his long, black tail starts to tap against the ground in mild agitation.

For the first time, you and Pseudo give each other looks of mutual accord, and you suddenly find his towering height and alien presence just a little less frightening, eased by the unexpected warmth in his otherwise stony expression.

“I’m sure you’ll be very handsome when you’re older,” you say to the grumbling sphere at your side, trying not to smirk when the child turns his hopeful gaze onto you, “But for now, you’ll just have to accept it...”

Giving his feathered head one last tousle, you return your hand to your lap and drop an eyelid in a lazy wink. “You, kid, are very cute.”

Puffing up indignantly, he lets out a strangled sound and casts his mind about for a retort.

“Oh yeah?! W-well… Well, Pseudo thinks you’re cute too!” he accuses triumphantly, pointing a wing out at his guardian, who almost drops the spoon into his bubbling pot before he manages to snag the handle with two fingers again, whipping his head up to stare at the Boy in muted horror.

Your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline, taken wildly aback as you meet Pseudo’s gaze, only for the pair of you to instantly snatch your eyes away from each other, and the latter to roughly clear his throat and argue, “I – When did I -? I never said-“

“-Yu-huh!” the Boy interrupts, suddenly excitable as he turns to you and blurts, “Remember when you fell in that pond? And Pseudo went in to rescue you, and then after, when you were drying off, I heard him say-“

The sudden clatter of a spoon hitting the ground promptly cuts off the end of his sentence. “-OH-kay, I think it's well past your bedtime,” Pseudo announces sharply, stalking towards his charge and reaching down to scoop him off the ground whilst staunchly avoiding your bewildered gaze.

“But I haven’t even had any supper yet!” the Boy protests, dangling helplessly by the scruff from Pseudo’s fist.

Dumping him soundly - but notably gently - on the straw-covered cot beside the tent, Pseudo grumbles, “One more word out of you, and you’ll be tonight’s supper.”

"Pseudo!" you scold through a smile.

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

"Well, he's out for the count," you murmur, stretching your arms up over your head and waiting for the bliss of a good ache to flow down your shoulders.

"Good," Pseudo grunts just as quietly, watching your face scrunch up, enraptured, "He needs it."

You've found yourself sitting once again on a patch of grass just next to camp, perched near the edge of a cliff that looks out towards the cold Zonectic Mountains. The sky above you, unhindered by light pollution - or any pollution for that matter - is clear and bright as a mirror's surface, freckled from horizon to horizon by a myriad of stars.

You're staring up at them, trying to see if you can pinpoint any of the same constellations that you might recognise in your own sky back at home. Not that you were much good at it even before you wound up in Zenozoik.

"You're doing it again," his rich, dulcet voice mumbles, the rustle of grass clueing you in to his proximity.

He does this. Ventures close sometimes, not for the purpose of protecting you, as he does when you travel during the day. But when it's quiet and still after dark, and the Boy is asleep, the insects buzzing and cricketing away in their trees.

Pseudo continuously seeks you out, even though you had him pegged as a loner who neither liked nor trusted you when you first met. You chalk it up to simple curiosity. You suppose you'd be just as curious if an alien landed on your world too.

Inhaling deeply through your nose, you tear your eyes off the empyrean stars and turn to give Pseudo a questioning, heavy-lidded glance. "Doing what?"

"Thinking," he grunts, settling down in the grass next to you, leaving just a foot of space between you.

Again: Odd.

"Oh? Want me to show you how?" you quip.

It's become a mark of success for you to make the grizzled hermit smile, and as he lets out a low, breathy chuckle and leans sideways to knock his sizeable elbow against you, you allow your own grin to widen.

"Smart-ass," he huffs, turning sombre a moment later and heaving a sigh that nearly doubles his chest in size. "Thinking of how you're gonna get back to your world again, huh?"

"I'm never not thinking about it," you admit, "I just hide it better when You-Know-Who is awake..." Twisting your neck over a shoulder, you give the tent a tired look. "He doesn't like hearing that I have to leave."

Pseudo doesn't say a word in response, doesn't even meet your eye. He just stares straight ahead, his expression tight and locked on the distant peaks.

It's only when you raise your face to peer up at the stars again that he finds his voice.

"Would it be so bad?" he asks quietly, listening to a breeze pass through the camp and rustle the flaps of his tent, "If you stayed, I mean."

You miss the sideways glance he throws at you, and the hopeful gleam in his yellow eyes.

"Ha, yeah, Pseudo," you snort, "It would be pretty bad. I don't know how this world works. I'd have been killed ten times over if you hadn't found me. And I wouldn't even know how to begin building a life for myself here."

The two of you sit through another stretch of silence for several moments before Pseudo hesitantly offers, "I could teach you how..."

Once again, you fail to register the sliver of hope in his tone. It doesn't occur to you that this might be more than a polite suggestion meant only to ease your concerns. The idea that Pseudo might be extending a lonely hand towards you in the hopes that you'll take it doesn't even cross your mind.

Because how could a recluse be lonely?

"That's not the point." Exhaling softly, you reach down and gather your knees towards yourself, resting your chin on top of them and blinking up at the night sky. "I'm gonna get out of here, one way or another...." you murmur, mostly to yourself, "Just need to figure out how."

Again, Pseudo doesn't respond. And this time, he doesn't break the silence.

For a long couple of minutes, you and he simply bask under the light of the rising moon, your head upturned to gaze into it's too-large face, Pseudo's head tilted subtly to watch the side of your face.

Eventually, you hear him push himself off the ground, followed by the soft fall of his bare feet padding back towards the camp.

"You should get some sleep," he grunts over his shoulder without turning to look at you, "Tent's all yours."

Lifting your chin off your knees, you aim a soft frown at the back of his head, but you know by now that arguing with him is like throwing paper at a brick wall.

So, instead, you let out a weary sigh through your nose and softly call, "Thanks, Pseudo... You get some rest too, okay?"

The towering figure raises one, sinewy arm and waves it dismissively through the air. "Sure, sure..."

You'll hold him to that. "Goodnight, Soods," you tell him, "Sweet dreams."

His feet fall still on the dirt, shoulders locking up in surprise, but you've already returned your attention to the moon hanging in the sky.

#zeno clash #Pseudo #X reader #Found family trope #found family #ficlet #idea #Father figure/Other parental figure + their scrunkly child

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hangeslovers-world · 1 year ago

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NERDY HANGE HCS!!!

A/n: i love thé idea of a nerdy loser hange so here are some thoughts and hc’s about em!!! And I hope you don’t mind if I tag you in this @abbyslev and @hangespublicist since I feel as though this is right up your ally!!! Not proof read..I’m lazy leave me BE.

Warnings! NSFW on the second half minors be warned

SFW!

-hanges favorite things to do with you is attempt to make you play dnd (with moblit and Erwin) they’re the dm EVERY TIME.

-if date nights are left up to hange it will without a doubt be watching documentary’s or a museum

-hange is a loser like they have friends but they would rather read books in their boxers and info dump on discord so you force them into the shower…a lot..

-hange has the cutest wide eye puppy look as they info dump to you about something “marsupials are so cool!!!” “Babe? What’s a marsupial…”

-they wear a visor and the nose sunscreen with a full on wet suit when you head to the beach and they snort and giggling making jokes about spf

-SPEAKING OF SNORTING hange snorts when they laugh not even just that but they slap their knee

- they have a flip phone you have to convince them to buy ANYTHING ELSE and even then they’ll be like “let’s compromise on a Nokia ok☹️”

-they walk around the house in stripped boxers and cringe tee-shirts like “nothing scares me but my wife”

-hange will take off their glasses wiggle and their eyebrows at you whenever you say something vaguely lewd…

-hange takes EVERY single ap not for college reason but because their bored…

-the only class hange has ever almost failed was art because hange cannot for the life of them draw

NSFW BIT MINORS DNI!!!

- get ready to ask yourself where the loser in them went…

-they eat pussy like crazy until you can’t speak they absolutely love it

-remember when I said they almost didn’t pass art? Yea that was a strap on day for sure your legs were aching

-UN TUCKING THEIR SHIRT TO FUCK YOU OMGGG (I’m so close to writing a whole fic about this alone)

-hange knows when they pick date nights it isn’t super exciting for you so they make it up by letting you sit on their face :)

-hange will wear glasses look up from between your legs while your panting and go “am I still a nerd?” Smirking then going right back.

-if hanges a little horny while tutoring they will have you sit and ride their thigh forcing you to answer questions

-the first time your nerdy partner and you had sex during aftercare you couldn’t muttering anything but “wow…” and hange went right back to being a goofy loser wiggling their eyebrows going “oooh la la”

-it’s like two different people the same person who snorts and slaps their knee is the same person denying you a orgasm like WHAT!?!

God I’ve gotta write a one shot for this cutie!!!

#ky writes #hange x reader #hange x y/n #hange smut #hanji x reader #hanji smut

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ji-bit · 2 years ago

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anal with skz? ><

contains: d/s dynamics, degradation, praise, cockwarming, jisung receives anal, seungmin is a meanie, dildo training

chan being one of the #1 anal enthusiasts in skz.. he’d be so gentle when you first suggest anal, kissing you sweetly as he inches himself slowly into you. it’s like this for the first few times trying anal, taking his time until you’d be able to take him with ease, and then the flip would switch. calling you dirty for enjoying anal so much and for clenching around him so well, your pussy literally dripping as he plugs it with 3 of his fingers. he’d find so much pleasure in the idea of the way you shyly asked him about anal at first in comparison to now where you just take his dick in your hands and put the tip against the other hole.

minho almost got whiplash from how fast he looked up at you when you so casually said “you know, i’d quite like to try anal”, because it has literally been a fantasy of his for so long.. he always wants to be able to ruin all of you, hinting at it by suggesting a plug for your ass but not going further unless you asked. when he’s fucking you from behind, minho can’t help but get you to wet his thumb with your mouth so that he can rest his hand on your lower back and ease his thumb into your hole, enjoying how hard your pussy clenches around his cock when he does it. when you eventually get the hang of anal, minho puts a condom on and fucks you hard until he cums once, discarding the condom and taking a quick break to eat you out, and finally fucking your pussy. he loves to ruin all your holes all the time!!! minho loves anal <3

changbin is the type to fuck your ass while he has a dildo inside of your pussy.. enjoying the idea of filling you up completely while he kisses you so gently in comparison to the hard and deep strokes he’s giving you. one hand on the side of your face, soothing you sweetly with each touch and the other hand fondling your tits. anal makes him feel dizzy, especially because of the way you moan as he fucks you slow and hard, praising you for taking it all so well. his good girl :(

hyunjin definitely almost came all over himself when he saw that you had a cute little buttplug inside of you. earlier that day you had kissed him goodbye and told him you have a surprise for him when he gets back home, sending him off with a hug. what he didn’t expect was you to be wearing a light pink lingerie set underneath your clothes, hands immediately going down to grope your ass, sitting you on the bed and removing his shirt. he thought that this was the surprise and he couldn’t be happier, always wanting more time to spend with you (or inside of you). he turned you over onto your stomach and pulled your hips up so that your ass was in the air, kissing the back of your thighs as he slowly pulled your underwear down to reveal it. he’d never moaned so fast, realising that the surprise you had for him was you prepping yourself for him to fuck your ass when he came home. he could barely contain himself, the overwhelming urge to pound into you taking over his senses and he did; tucking his long hair behind his ears to ensure he didn’t miss a single second of how his dick looked stretching you out.

jisung now.. i believe jisung would love to receive anal. you wearing a strap on and telling him to keep his legs bent at the knee so that you can fuck better? his dick is twitching hard against his stomach. every time he thinks about the fact that you’re fucking him and pushing him around a bit, jisung’s moans become even louder. you’re fucking him hard and fast like he does to you and he can’t hold it anymore; needing you close as he cums all over his own chest. he’s rlly sensitive after he orgasms once and is all pouty about it because he wanted to fuck you immediately after :( settles for eating you out over and over until you’re pushing his head away because that’s how good you make him feel.

felix would enjoy cockwarming your ass. idk why i can just imagine you two chilling like that— you getting used to the feeling of him inside of your ass while making out for a while, felix bringing his thumb down to rub your clit with slow strokes. when you pull back to look at where you both connect together you moan and he grabs your chin softly for you to look at him, finding your furrowed brows and fucked out expression cute. you start to grind down on him subconsciously, moaning into eachother while felix rubs your clit with more pressure to bring you quickly to your orgasm. he’s never felt so desperate to cum before, moaning deeply into your ear as he feels you clench and unclench around him, milking him of all his cum.

seungmin is a meanie :( you bring up anal to him and he immediately decides that he needs to dildo train you. humiliating you when you can’t take it because how will you be able to take him if you can’t even take this small thing?? squeezing your cheeks together hard when you pout because you’ll take what he’s giving you and be grateful for it. idk it’s just very sexy— the contrast between his attitude when he’s training you in comparison to the real thing. now, he’s paying close attention to your facial expressions and brushing your hair out of your face while kissing your lips every now and then. easing into you n making sure you’re as comfortable as you can be. but he does eventually gets mean again, calling you a slut for taking him in your ass like this and needing to cum after such a short while. the aftercare is always so lovely and soft with him. idk i need mean dom seungmin bad

jeongin loves anal with you. the way you feel around his cock, clamping around him with every thrust, has him moaning so much that he has to bite down on your shoulder to control himself. he’s so horny for you and the way you repeat everything he says back to him as if you’re all dumb for him.. will put his middle and index finger inside of your pussy while his thumb rubs circles at your clit, other hand holding himself up to look at the way your face changes with pleasure. his moans get louder and louder until he cums and it’s so much— going on for a long minute. when he pulls out he quickly leans back to watch his cum drip out of you, admiring the mess he’s made of your ass.

#lili’s inbox #🎀 anon #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz x reader #bang chan smut #lee know smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #i.n smut #skz thoughts

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trashpandacraft · 9 months ago

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What are your cats' names? I love them very much 🥹

you are my favourite person. thank you so much for asking this and giving me a chance to talk about my cats, my precious terrible babies.

we have three cats, as you can see in this photo of them supervising me watering the garden yesterday.

the brown tabbies are brothers, and are two years old. the grey one was adopted at the same time, but is younger—about eighteen months. they're terrible. i adore them.

this is darcy. he's impossibly beautiful, so full of beauty that there's absolutely no space left in that precious little head of his for anything as trivial as thoughts. look at those eyes. his mind is absolutely empty.

darcy enjoys hanging his chin over things, feather toys, helping me manage any wool products that i'm using, sunbeams, yoghurt, tearing apart cardboard boxes, and being lightly thunked along his sides. does he like being pet like a normal cat? not really. what he loves is when you aggressively rub his sides up and down like you're trying to towel off a very wet dog, or when you play bongos on his ribs.

darcy is our babiest boy, and also the fanciest and most beautiful boy. he doesn't walk, he prances. his tail is an enormous peacock plume. his mouth is so so so pink. he's also our most timid boy—very friendly, but very cautious, especially when it comes to anything physical. big jump? no thank you, darcy will simply hop down to the floor and take the long way. he's our longest and probably our sturdiest cat, but he does not care to put that to the test.

this is bingley. you may notice, in these photos, that he's missing the paw on his front right leg. this is because he put every single one of his ability points into soft and didn't leave any for paw. he feels like this was a reasonable trade, and is entirely unbothered by its absence.

bingley likes sofa, plush fishie toys, biting and biting and biting his siblings, cotton, being tall, getting onto the bed by jumping directly on my face, and trucks and machines of all types. you have a spinning wheel? this guy is obsessed with spinning wheels. garbage is being picked up? he is tearing into the office so he can watch it out the window. toddler-ass behaviour, frankly.

darcy and bingley are brothers, and when we went to the shelter, we were told that they were a bonded pair, and that darcy relied on bingley for a lot of social cues. this was, at it turns out, 100% correct. darcy is timid and anxious and very reluctant to trust his own abilities; bingley is confident and loud and knows absolutely no fear. this cat has opinions, and by god he's gonna tell you about them. bingley makes the biggest jumps, and is the cat who figured out that he could jump from the knee-high cat tree to the top of the more-than-two-metres wardrobe. i'm honestly glad that he's missing a paw because i feel like if he weren't a tiny bit nerfed, he'd be A Threat. he is also far and away our smallest cat, even though he sometimes makes himself look quite large in photos.

this is goblet. goblet is rightfully called silver—my child named him, thus the thematic disconnect—but i have to admit that i've almost never called him that. you see, when we got him, he was very young, and he had hilariously oversized eyes and ears, which made him look like a goblin. a very small goblin. a goblet, if you will.

goblet likes food, the plastic bottle caps from sports drinks that he fishes out of the garbage, being in things (baskets, drawers, cat beds, etc), headbutts, having his belly rubbed, and sitting with his front paws tucked up very politely.

he's our most skittish boy—if there's a loud noise, he's gone—but also the snuggliest. which is great, because he's also the most trustworthy when it comes to craft supplies. if i pull out my knitting, there's like an 85% chance that he'll appear on my lap within ten minutes or so, and then he'll just hang out there. i've used his limbs to tension yarn before and he just purrs. he's sort of middle of the road on the bad life choices scale—too skittish to have bingley's eyes closed, three paws, can't lose attitude, but more confident than darcy. he's also the smartest cat.

additionally, he has weirdly, freakishly grippy paws. he's not polydactyl, but he very much uses his dewclaws like thumbs. he really holds on to things. it's messed up but also very charming, because he holds on to everything.

anyhow, thank you so so much for sending me this ask and giving me an excuse to tell you way more than you wanted to know about my cats!

#cats #my precious stinky babymen #bin blogging #smartest raccoon i know

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ikinremu · 18 hours ago

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pls can you write dad's friend Emmett? 😭😭🩷

you’re so real for this anon, ofc i can!! i’ve been wanting to write dbf for SO long and just never got round to it so thank u for giving me a reason to!! honestly really loved writing this, thank you for your request i hope you enjoy!! <3

LOUSY

dbf!emmett x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k (i got a little carried away😭🫠)

! smut warning !

tags: masturbation, p in v, age gap, praise, dirty talk, light spanking

Your parents weren't home; Emmett was. That wasn't at all unusual, they often called upon him to keep watch when they were gone. Not that you needed it, your twentieth birthday was coming up soon, it was more for the sake of your little brother - who'd been fast asleep for hours.

You had no doubt he was still locked in a peaceful sleep, his room tucked away at the opposite end of the house. As for Emmett, he was - presumably - where he was typically found: lounging about downstairs with a harsh tv glare in his eyes. By your standards, that was safe enough to permit some alone time.

Carelessly, you tossed your pyjama shorts to the bedroom floor, the sodden fabric of your underwear hanging round your knees as you slipped your hand between the parting of your thighs.

Breathing softly, you gently pressed your fingertips to your clit, tracing supple circles over the sensitive spot as you wasted no time in finding exactly where you required them most.

Slowly, you slipped a finger within the warmth of yourself, followed shortly by the accompaniment of a second. As you revelled in the greatly-needed sensations, you couldn't quite prevent the way your mind began to drift - not that you particularly wanted to.

However you were a little stunted as your brain began to flood with image of someone very familiar, someone you could hear walking around downstairs.

You'd had a sort of 'thing' for Emmett for a while; it was rather difficult to kick it. He was always so pleasant toward you, and annoyingly attractive in many ways. You found plenty logic in blaming this on the fact he was at the house right now, it was the only reasoning you would allow yourself to face.

Your eyelids fluttered together as you focused your touch where you required it most, curling in and out of your soaking cunt as your arousal heightened further by each passing second.

As much as you wished against it, the image of your father's longtime friend was cemented in your mind. Not just the image, the sound of his voice, just.. him.

"Fuck..” You whispered, barely audible, an odd blend of frustration and satisfaction. Your features screwed together as you quickened the pace of your fingers, flicking through the lewd scenes in your mind.

You were long beyond the initial guilt now, coming to accept that the vision of your father's closest friend had your back arching from your bed and arousal pooling between your thighs.

You completely lost yourself in the sensations; and willingly, pressing your heavy head back into one of your bed's many pillows as you squeezed your thighs around your hand.

The rhythm of your breathing was heavy as you set the perfect pace, picking up the speed of your fingers as you murmured mindlessly to yourself. Although this time, the hushed utter of 'fuck' didn't fall from your own lips. At an instant, you snapped your eyes open once more, darting to the only thing worthy of drawing focus.

Emmett stood stationary in the doorway to your bedroom, an unreadable expression painting his features, a tall glass of water in his left hand.

Immediately, you seized the closest blanket to your side, yanking it over your bared legs as embarrassment masked your face, breath caught in your throat as you sat yourself back up on your mattress.

With a single, hoarse sound, Emmett cleared his throat, "I brought you water."

That much was clear, and it didn't exactly help your struggle for words. He took a small step forward, placing the beverage atop your bedside table before tucking his hands back inside his worn-out jean pockets, and you couldn't ignore the strain at his crotch.

You pulled your gaze away, unable to bring yourself to look directly at him, "I was just," You began, although no words seemed to follow.

He chuckled, a slight smirk playing at his lips as he failed miserably to diminish it, "Somethin' got you worked up?"

You felt your face grow impossible warm at his words, caught entirely off guard as he observed you from beside the table he'd planted the water atop, bedroom door clicking shut behind his back.

You peered up at him, still apparent of the slick between your thighs as you noticed amusement ghosting over his face, observing the way you processed his words.

Before you were able to conduct some form of answer, Emmett lay out another question, inhaling deeply before, "You ever been fucked before, sweetheart?"

Your stomach fluttered, the question leaving you taken aback as you gazed up at him, cheeks burning with pure, undiluted heat.

"Yes." You managed, battling to keep your gaze trained with his own.

You'd had sex before, a few times, with old boyfriend's who'd since been cast astray from your life. It was.. nice, sweet.

Emmett's gaze bore into you, and suddenly his thumb was brushing swiftly over your face, lifting your chin as his eyes explored every last inch of your flustered face.

"Properly?" He firmed, the pad of his thumb callous against your skin, "Not some lousy shit."

You breathed deeply. 'Lousy' wasn't exactly the word for it, though it certainly hadn't been perfect.

Ultimately, you shook your head, arousal only heightening with the feeling of his touch against your skin, "No."

He stepped even nearer, barely any distance separating the two of you. His mind was whirring, that much you could deduce, the warmth of his palm against your skin making you shudder.

There was a short pause, and you were sure it felt far longer than it truly was.

His voice was a low, deep whisper as he stared intently down at you, running his palm over the back of your neck, "I can show you." He spoke, "You gotta want it, but I can show you."

You couldn't quite believe the words as they escaped his lips, the situation simply felt more absurd with each word. However there wasn't so much as a shadow of a doubt in your mind; you wanted it. You needed it.

"You want me to show you, baby?" He asked, offering your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

You returned a rather frantic nod, practically blurting out, "Yes."

Emmett exhaled at your words, swiping his palm from your shoulder as he murmured something inaudible beneath his breath. His hand crept slowly behind your neck, suddenly bringing your lips crashing against his.

He began only gently, purposeful in his restraint as he moved his lips against yours, sliding his tongue between your lips as the embrace grew hungrier.His mouth never disconnected from your own, palm caressing the back of your neck as he joined you on the bed.

"Fuck.." He mumbled against your mouth as his frame loomed over you. His lips shattered the kiss, his chest heaving as he met your gaze with clear intent. Abruptly, he seized the strewn over blanket from your legs, yanking it off and exposing your naked legs.

Emmett let out a low, somewhat shaky groan, cursing to himself as his eyes fell to your bare, glistening cunt as he discarded the blanket to the wooden floor.

You felt the cool air strike your skin as you inhaled. feeling the heat of his gaze burn into you.

"Jus' look at you." He groaned, his thick, skilful fingers creeping up your legs, seizing your thighs and parting them further, "Sweetest little cunt."

Your hips bucked up as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, teasing you with the gentle pressure.

"Please.." You mumbled, desperate for the friction you'd broken mere moments ago.

Your plea had Emmett's cock twitching inside the confines of his jeans, aching to fulfil what you so blatantly craved.

"Please what, honey?" He coaxed, snaking his hands to the zipper of his jeans, tugging the metal down as you watched through a heavy gaze.

He tucked a hand into one of his two pockets, quickly retrieving a small, square packet. You breathed deeply beneath your pyjama shirt as you watched him pull his boxers down, soon stepping out of his jeans as he freed his hard, pulsing cock.

You expelled a shaky exhale, full of anticipation as your gaze met with the head of him, his fist wrapped around his bare shaft, pumping at a torturously slow rate.

"Please, fuck me.." You whispered, toying with the bedsheets beneath you as Emmett ran his digit over the slit of his tip.

"Shit, sweetheart." He chuckled amidst a hoarse sound. His eyes trailed down your body, intoxicated by the sight of your sopping cunt, "Up for me."

You nodded, finding zero hesitation in altering your position. You knelt comfortably upon your mattress as he studied your frame, bare from the waist down.

"I want you on all fours, ass up, honey. Can you do that for me?" He murmured, tearing the little papered square between his fingertips, pulling out the condom and rolling it down onto his length as you positioned yourself on all fours, eagerly awaiting Emmett's action.

Unable to resist the sight, he grasped your backside, running his hands over the exposed flesh as he spread you before him, holding you there for a few short moments before releasing his hold. He planted one firm smack to your bare ass, drawing a soft whimper from your throat as your body jolted forward in response.

"Think this little pussy needs to be fucked, huh?" He teased, palm surrounding his length as he angled the thick of his tip to your entrance. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you felt him drag his head up and down your drenched slit, "How bad d'you want it, sweetheart, tell me."

You pushed your hips back against him, whimpering softly as you felt his tip taunt your clit, back arching before him, "Please, Emmett.. I need you."

Hearing his name leave your lips only wound him up further, cock impossibly hard in his grasp as he let go, sliding inside your drenched cunt, "Just need to be fucked right, huh baby?"

A loud, satisfied moan escaped your throat as he entered you, filling your needy cunt with one swift motion. You nodded through a quiet whine as Emmett landed his first thrust, hips smacking against your arched ass with a taunting thrust.

"God, you feel incredible." He whispered, voice gruff and low as his skin collided with yours.

And so did he. His cock fit so perfectly inside you,reaching right where you desired him most. You pushed back eagerly against him, desperate to bring him as deep as possible as he began to thrust against you. His palms were somehow both warm and rough as they slid up your waist, assisting in the way he rocked against you.

"Y'gonna let me ruin this sweet fuckin' pussy?" Emmett taunted, smacking his pelvis against your own as he groaned hungrily, practically grunting with each thrust reaching deeper and deeper.

You nodded, "Yes, fuck!.."

He heaved, feeling your walls clench around him as he pumped into you, his voice laced with gravel and amusement, "What would your dad think, huh doll? His friend fuckin' you stupid while hes not home?"

The taunt shot down your spine like a rush as your body responded to him. As much as it shouldn’t have, it only made the situation more exciting. Despite wishing that wasn’t the case, you couldn’t deny the thrill of how wrong it all was - so wrong.

Emmett’s cock was stuffed firmly inside you, hitting repeatedly at your sweetest spots as you moaned for more.

And he was equally as wound up, satisfied sounds pouring from his throat as he picked up his pace.

"Oh you like that, hm?" He teased, inebriated by the sensation of your pussy squeezing him desperately in response to his words running through your body.

Suddenly Emmett pulled back rather slowly, his length leaving you entirely. You exhaled, head turning back in pointed confusion, shooting a furrowed brow in is direction. With an equally heavy exhale, he chuckled, seizing your hips and flipping you over as though it took no effort, settling your backside at the edge of the bed with your thighs parted for his access.

One hand took ahold of your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly as he stared down at you, his opposing hand guiding himself back between your legs, "Need to see that pretty little face while I fuck you, sweetheart."

His words trailed off as he pushed himself back within the warmth of you. Once more, you jaw fell open in an airy moan as Emmett resumed his pace between your thighs immediately, thumb digging into the crook of your jaw, "So needy.."

Your back arched drastically as he bucked in and out of your drenched pussy, filling you at a flawless rate as your palms slid up the broad of his back, scrunching into his worn-out t-shirt as he grunted.

"Such a dirty girl, letting me use you like this, huh?" He taunted, "Letting me fuck this pretty pussy while your parents aren't home.”

You flung your legs around his bucking hips, allowing him to strike your g-spot as you babbled.

“Yes..” You uttered, thighs trembling either side of him, overwhelmed with pleasure as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, growing louder by the moment.

"Attagirl." Emmett praised, eyes shutting for a brief moment as his hips pumped back and forth between your thighs, grasp sliding under your legs as they surrounded his pelvis, "Quiet for me, doll, don't wanna wake your brother up."

You nodded, suppressing your pleasure to the very best extent you could manage, though it became increasingly difficult as your satisfaction built.

"Emmett.." You mewled through your attempt at hushing yourself, composure continuing to escape you.

"I know. Jus' what you needed, huh? My cock stuffed in this needy little pussy." He teased through another low chuckle, quickening his pace once more.

Cursing under your breath, you nodded in response as his thrusts had your thighs weakening around him.

Without warning, his palm came down on your ass, providing a quick strike, following with a tender squeeze of the area he’d just hit, gripping greedily at your flesh, "Fuckin’ take it, that's right."

With a heaving chest, you jolted at the repeat of a stinging sensation landing on your behind, your upper-thighs coated with your own arousal.

"Shit.." You whined as Emmett struck repeatedly at your g-spot, palms possessive across your backside as he rocked your hips against his every thrust, bringing you nearer and nearer to orgasm.

"I know, honey, can feel you getting close." He teased as his length twitched inside you, surrounded by drenched warmth as he slid in and out of your sopping cunt, "Y'wanna come on my cock?"

You simply moaned in response, nodding subtly along as Emmett gripped your backside possessively, pulling you against each thrust he planted inside you, "Fuck, yes."

"Shit, gonna make me come, baby." He panted, "Give it to me, sweetheart, come on my fuckin' cock."

You let out a strained, rather needy moan, your breathing rapid as your orgasm crashed over your body, legs trembling as you clenched around his shaft, his pace getting sloppier as he got closer.

"Mm, so pretty when you cum, baby." He smirked, landing one final thrust deep inside your cunt as his own release struck, cursing through gritted teeth as he pulsed, "Fuck-"

Through low, rough grunts, he came undone, bringing a single hand to the angle of your jaw, cupping the crook firmly as he ran his thumb back and forth over your neck.

He pressed his flushed forehead against your own, "That better?"

A sweet smile tugged at your lips as he brought your mouth to his once again, his length still nestled comfortably between your thighs as his lips worked in unison with yours.

The embrace was far more tender this time around, rather satisfying as he soothed you down from climax, your mind whirring at an impossible rate - completely specific to one idea; you hadn't the slightest clue how either of you were to act when you next saw one and other.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Your support means the world to me! I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3

#smut #smutty #drabbles #oneshot #emmett cillian murphy #emmett the quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader #emmett smut #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #tommy shelby smut #dbf

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baziutawrites · 2 years ago

Text

Priorities

Sub!Xavier Thorpe x Female OC smut

WARNING! If you are under 18 yrs old, do not read this piece. I do not take responsibility for anything if you proceed.

Masterlist is pinned on my blog. Check it out cuz I can't link it for you here.

Despite being the most skilled artist at Nevermore Academy, Xavier Thorpe wanted his girlfriend to help him out with his jester makeup. However, he didn't want to make it easy for her. He wanted to have her, close, for a bit longer than just a few minutes of dabbing face paint onto his cheeks.

“Will you stop squirming,” Val let out an exasperated sigh, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Tickles.”

Xavier grimaced, flinching slightly and scrunching up his nose at the brush bristles around his eye. A squiggle of black adorned his cheek, messing up the entire half of his already painted face.

The warm sunlight was slowly inching away from the walls - it was nearing midday, and they still weren’t ready for the upcoming competition. They were in Xavier’s dorm room for more than an hour now, doing his godforsaken clown makeup for the entire time. He could not make up his mind about the design - or at least that’s what he made her think it was.

V huffed, getting up from the desk she was sitting at to get a towel. She would have to remove the makeup for the fifteenth time this morning. And again, his fingers slid against her leg as she did so, gliding over a particularly sensitive spot at the back of her knee, earning a quiet gasp from her. She shivered, goosebumps erupting on her exposed skin and gave him a side-eye. He smiled, feigning innocence. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He knew all of her sweet spots, he had them mapped out - no, burned into his memory. He studied them religiously every single chance he got. Just like when he ghosted his fingertips over the crook of her neck during the lunch breaks, pretending to notice a speck of fabric that needed to be taken off of her skin, or when he glided his palms along the small of her back when she passed him in the halls. Or when he slid his fingers along her inner thighs, right underneath her skirt - on supposed accident - every time she got up from his lap, or when he caressed her ankles, swirling his thumbs around them whenever they were hanging out with their friends in the courtyard. Or when he kept looking out for loose strands of her hair just to tuck them away, brushing his fingernails oh-so-tenderly behind her ear or across the nape of her neck, when he pretended to get her hair out of her collar before every Botany class they had together.

He knew every single one of those spots and more. Many, many more.

He remembered them all vividly, when she was then moaning quietly in a bathroom stall or an empty classroom, as he worshiped her flushed skin slowly, inch by inch, his large hands feeling the mounds of her hips, spreading her thighs to nestle between them. He relished in hearing his own name, soft and breathy on her lips. He loved the feeling of her fingers intertwined in his hair when he caressed her heated, dripping folds with his hungry mouth. He noted every move, every sound she made when he lapped at her sensitive clit, how she arched her back when he sucked on her relentlessly. How hot she became and how her legs trembled when she got close to the edge because of him. He remembered how his long fingers were stretching her heat, pumping in and out of her at a steady pace, absolutely in love with the feeling of her clenching around them. How he loved hearing her groan throatily with her head thrown back when the lewd, wet sounds of her pussy swallowing his fingers filled the room. How she was pulling at his hair, pushing him closer to herself, making him bury his face into her sopping, fluttering cunt.

He very well remembered how his dick was rock hard by then, straining painfully against the fabric of his underwear, or how he wanted to skip the next few classes, begging her to fuck - and how she scolded him for it with a faux look of sympathy on her reddened face. He remembered her pink, flushed cheeks and her glazed eyes, giving him those heavy lidded, cocky looks, when she tried to smooth out her shirt before the next class, trembling hands trying to fix up her skirt. He remembered Ajax giving him a knowing smile every time they barely showed up on time for the class, bumping his shoulder with an "extracurricular activities, eh", to which he always nodded, grinning smugly under his nose. How he could still taste her on his tongue, making it difficult for him to focus on the subject presented in class, as he tried to fight his still throbbing, untouched dick. How much more difficult it was, when she sat a few rows in front, shifting in her seat because of what he had just done to her mere minutes ago. It replayed in his mind's eye in every detail when she turned her head to look at him and sent him a wink.

Xavier remembered every single moment like this. And he still wanted more of them, more of her. He was addicted.

His heart fluttered when she slowly swayed her hips as she walked back towards the desk he was sitting at, wet towel in hand. She seemed to know what he was playing at by now but didn't want to give that away just yet. Curiosity overtook her. She wondered, what is he going to do with a little bit of a push in the right direction.

She lifted her skirt up, just enough to make Xavier see her panties and straddled his legs, bringing the towel close to his smudged cheek. His little gasp didn't go unnoticed and she smirked, leaning closer to his face, watching in amusement, how transfixed he was by her clothed cunt so close to his hardening dick.

"I'm gonna have to start all over again." She pouted, wiping at the black splotch on his cheek. It only smudged more, messing up the red lines of the smile. Her thumb brushed his cheekbone, pushing away a strand of hair that escaped his half-up, half-down hairdo.

"Or…" He took her hand into his large one, away from his cheek, his breath fanning her palm. "We could… rest… for a… bit… you know?"

He planted soft, wet, open mouthed kisses along the line of her wrist and up her arm at every pause, leaving red face paint in their wake and making her drop the towel. And just as he expected, V's face relaxed, her eyelids fluttered at the sensation. This was too good to refuse. His other hand pulled her against his bare chest as he continued to kiss her, stopping every now and then at a particularly delicate spot near her shoulder.

"Xavier–"

"Yes, baby?" His plump lips were now busy with her other wrist, gliding over the sensitive skin. His fingers slid under her shirt and rested on her lower back, sending shivers down her spine.

"We're gonna-ah–" she gasped, shifting on top of him, making him suck in his breath suddenly as she rubbed her clothed pussy against his semi-hard on. "Gon' be late."

He only hummed in response, his breath now on the side of her neck. She snaked her fingers into his hair, messing up his bun, making him purr and prompting him to latch his mouth onto her pulse. Every nip left a wet spot, the cool air contrasting with the warmth of his breaths in between the kisses. Her nipples hardened to the point they were visible through her sports bra and her shirt and he noticed this immediately.

His big hands worked slowly, caressing her sides, stopping at her every moan to prolong the sensations that sent shivers down her body, making a knot form in her stomach when they slid underneath her bra. His long fingers brushed over her perked nubs. He kept kissing her jawline, her throat, feeling the vibrations of her moans forming, ready to fall from her lips if he gave her just a little bit more.

Xavier didn't want anything else in the world right now but to give her everything he could, just to hear her.

Her shirt and bra now laid abandoned somewhere on the floor. His nose slid down her chest, leaving a white-red stripe of paint on her sternum and the undersides of her breasts, licking the newly exposed, delicate skin, inching closer and closer to her nipples. And she shuddered in anticipation, feeling his wet mouth drawing closer to her aching spots. When he finally did, his lips closing around one of them, his tongue circling it hungrily, she moaned his name, pushing herself against him. Her hands fisted his hair, tugging at the strands at the back of his head, making him groan into her breasts. He could feel her wetness through the material of hers and his own underwear and he could not help himself anymore. He rolled his hips into her core, desperate for some sort of pleasure to soothe his now aching cock.

His open mouthed kisses got messy, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth as he did everything in his might not to throw his head back when she ground her cunt onto his hardened dick. His name repeatedly falling from her open mouth in breathy moans made his head feeling fuzzy, leaving him wanting - no, needing more. His hands roamed her body in a desperate frenzy, trying to bring her closer to him, to feel her whole against his chest. He sucked on her hardened nipples, grazing them with his teeth on accident, just as she leaned away from him with a squeal and her hand trailed down his abdomen. He groaned at the sensation of her warm fingers sliding under the waistband of his underwear and wrapping around his shaft, his hard cock now free from the material. He watched her spit down on him and lower herself over his twitching cock, her mouth open and ready to take him.

"No." He heard himself say. He grabbed her wrist to stop her, surprising her as well as himself by his actions. She looked at him, taking in his mess of a makeup and a wild, kind of desperate look in his green eyes.

“I want– I, ah, just use me.” He whispered, breathless. Heat was rising to his cheeks, a bit ashamed at his own boldness. “Use me like a toy. Make yourself feel good first, baby.”

Their lips crashed together in a needy, messy, open mouthed kisses, teeth and tongues clashing, trying to taste each other before the other one.

His eyes snapped shut, his hips bucked into her palm with a gasp as he felt her guide his dick towards her heat. Bare pussy lips glided smoothly over his tip, rubbing directly over her swollen clit, coating him in a flood of her slick juices.

"Use me, yes, just like that, babe," His strained voice was low and raspy. His fingers now dug into her butt, pushing her to roll herself on the underside of his dick, her moans filled the otherwise quiet room. He felt his swollen head catching onto her exposed clit with every single slide, flicking it relentlessly, making him whine like a wounded puppy when she writhed on top of his long, lanky legs, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. The thin walls of his dorm room definitely didn't offer any soundproofing - Xavier was sure at least half of his wing heard them by now but he could not care less. He loved her voice, so filled with pleasure, it was like an angelic music for him. Music that he replayed in his mind every time he was away from her, jerking off to his drawings of her. He savoured the feeling of her chest flush against his as he buried his face into her neck, breathing hard and heavy, sliding his hot lips over the crook of her neck.

This was now. This was real, yet he felt like in one of his dreams - his fantasies again. He wanted to pinch himself. His mind was in some sort of dazed high right now, as he felt her soaking cunt rut on his rock hard dick, felt her getting hotter and hotter to the touch. His eyes rolled back with a groan. V's skin was getting covered in a thin layer of sweat and it made him grit his teeth. He knew she was close - her low moans and scrunched up face, mouth open, rocking on him with an absent minded look in her eyes, was an image he could not ever forget - but so was he. The idea of her cumming all over him, because of him, pushed him to his limits every single fucking time. And he couldn't let himself do that. He could not deny himself the beautiful picture that was about to unfold in front of his eyes if he held on for just a little bit longer.

His dick strained as he groaned, feeling her oncoming orgasm. His eyes never leaving her face only to grow wide, so as did hers. He felt his burning, rock-hard cock push inside her soft, dripping cunt, filling her up with his entire length with the momentum of their grinding, just to bottom out and thrust right back in. He stretched her tight, warm pussy, the sensation sending electricity through her spine so intense, her back arched and her eyes rolled back, as her orgasm hit her hard with its flaming waves.

"Xavi– ohyes god, Xavier, fuck, yes, yes–!"

His fingers dug into her hips, impailing her hard as she pulsated around him. His pupils blown out, whining her name as well, eyes roaming her face in a drunken hunger, as he spilled inside her mere seconds after her. Hips stuttering, he buried his face in her chest, feeling the sweet release of his own orgasm heightened by V's clenching walls almost sucking his dick dry of his cum.

They sat there for some time, unmoving, tired and dazed, almost falling asleep in between soft and delicate pecks of their lips over each other faces. Through the heavy lidded eyes, Val noticed the sun moved again, she wondered what time it was. And then she jolted upright, startling Xavier out of his pussydrunk state.

"Wha'is it?" He groaned, frowning at the sudden absence of her warmth.

"The Poe Cup!"

He felt a towel on his crotch and a brush on his face, rapidly dabbing paint on his cheeks as he froze. Shit.

They got packed in a blink of an eye and somehow Val managed to fix his makeup enough for it to look good and cover the hickeys she left on his neck a few nights ago.

"I have something planned for you," she stated smugly, tracing her fingers over one of the spots on his neck, as she fixed the strings of his jester hat. "A consolation prize."

He gave her a playful look.

"Don't believe in me, babe?"

"Well, I bet The Black Cats are going to win. Again." Her cocky tone made him feel something in his stomach - something he never thought he would. A desire to make her eat her own words, to show her who's in charge this time.

“And what if I win?”

“Then I’ll let you do whatever, now come on. We’re gonna be late.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door. He stalled a bit.

“Anything? So, say, I could be… in control?”

She nodded absentmindedly, glancing around the room for things she might’ve forgotten, her mind clearly fixated on the Poe Cup. She didn’t notice the glint in Xavier’s eyes. She didn’t notice how he straightened his back, how his cheeks flushed underneath the white paint, how his breath hitched just slightly. How his smile widened, mischief and determination written across his features. She didn’t even notice how he bit his lip ever so slightly in a way that promised things she could not ever see coming.

“So,” he stated, almost casually, “we have a deal then?”

“Yea, yea, deal. Can we go now? Y'know, I have a Cup to win. Again.” She smirked, winking.

His heart fluttered, a wave of excitement sending shivers down his very core.

Yeah, we’ll see about that…

Xavier followed V towards the lake, chuckling under his breath at how determined she was in her stride. So confident and self-assured. He watched her vanish inside the Black Cats’ tent, absolutely positive the victory was hers. He squared his shoulders, fists clenched at his sides, his mind racing. Adrenaline pumped through his veins once again, making it difficult to stay still. He had to focus.

Now, where the fuck was Ajax? They had some prepwork to do.

And he had a bet to win.

#xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier smut #xavier thorpe x oc #xavier thorpe smut #sub!xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe

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