#I forgot how much I enjoyed writing the next chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

millersfinest · 6 days ago

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untethered⁶ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.9k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!), chapter four , chapter five , chapter six (you’re here)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, r and ellie might have beat the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, some vulgar language, jealous!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), ellie being insecure a bit, tommy and joel being brothers, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, abby is a plot device lmao, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), repressed emotions, a flirty/horny cliffhanger-ish.

note: thank you guys for flooding my inbox w untethered ch 6 demands…. i hear you, i see you, i understand you… AND HERE’S THAT CHAPTER!!! im sorry for making you guys wait so long. it wasn’t easy writing this chapter, and i still feel like it sucks, but i hate keeping you guys waiting. like i genuinely feel bad 😞. theres like one paragraph that i love in here and thats's it... but as always, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter… next chapter (and final chapter) should be even more angsty, and hopefully, sexy. bisouu my loves <3 (if something doesn't make sense... yes it does)

The smell of broiling honey ham filled your nostrils. Humored voices of your father and Joel echoed from the outside as they grilled their sirloins over burning charcoal. You set the counters with the food that was already cooked and ready to eat, leaving them out like it were a buffet. The warm desserts were placed after the savory vegetables plated on some of your mother’s finest china. You and Maria waited for the ham, as it was the last thing to be ready—she wanted it to be fresh.

During this time, you changed into your evening clothes, which was none other than a pair of overall shorts, a white frilly crop top, and your cowboy boots. Clean ones, of course.

You haven’t seen or heard from Ellie since your little squabble. Joel had come in with a nicely cooked pie in his hands, without her, claiming that she had to make a quick run. Then, you noticed Cat was gone, too. Perhaps, there was some correlation there. You didn’t want to pester because of how tender everything was after your confession. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious, though. While you felt an immense pressure lifted from your shoulders, there was an underlying level of an unnerving feeling.

Old habits die hard, they say. And you find that to be true.

“So’s… your friend still comin’, honey?” Maria checks for the crispy brown on the shell of the ham in the oven. “Or is that called off since your realization…”

In the midst of sorting out your mother’s finest plates, you paused. “Shit,” You cursed, clenching a fist and shutting your eyes, tightly. Abby was still coming over for dinner—you completely forgot all about that! Fuck. You looked at the time on the oven, squinting your eyes. 5:57. “Is it too late to cancel on her?” You muttered, peering at your mother.

“What time did you tell her to be here by?”

“6-ish…”

Maria took in a deep breath, glancing up at her ceiling. “To be frank, Bug,” She inhaled through her teeth. “At some point you gotta throw in the asshole towel—“

There was a knock on the door. You cringed, gritting your teeth. “Please, can you answer it?” You beg, furrowing your eyebrows.

“No.” She deadpans.

“Well, I can’t… Because— because I have to go help dad and Joel with the steak.” You pressed your lips into a line, preparing to walk out to the back porch. You didn’t know if the culprit of the door knocking was Abby, but all the odds were pointing to her. If it were Ellie, she wouldn’t have knocked. And, if it were Cat, she’d be behind Ellie.

Before you could get far, she tugged on the back of your overalls, pulling you to a stop. “Answer the damn door.” Maria commanded, flashing her stern, bright eyes at you.

You pouted, stomping your foot. Nervousness arose in your chest, tightening and constricting. With a sigh, you approached the front door. When you pulled it open, the sight of a tall, muscular blonde grinning at you—caused a knowing smile creep onto your face. “Abby,” You sighed her name, taking in a deep inhale, leaning on the door.

A bottle of wine was held in her hands. “I hope I’m not too early.” She chuckled with a hint of nervousness. It was sweet.

“No… Not at all.” You ran your tongue over your lips, awkwardly reaching to hug her. You slid your arm around her waist, instead of her neck like usual—pressing your sides together, platonically. As if she were an acquaintance. Don’t think she didn’t take notice to that. “Come on in.” Gently, you take the bottle from her hands, peering at the label. It was a red wine, Pinot Noir, not your favorite.

You shut the door behind her, sighing once it clicked with your hands braced against the cool wood. Like that could cure the queasiness building in your stomach. With dragging legs, you walked her to the kitchen. Where your mother feigned unawareness. “Maria, this is my friend, Abby.” You introduced her without focus, setting the bottle on the kitchen counter behind the desserts. The use of your mother’s name was you trying to quip at her for making you answer the door.

She tucked her long, golden hair behind her ears, reaching a hand out to shake mother’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to put a name to a face.” Maria spoke, firmly taking hers. “How did you meet my daughter?” She followed up, quickly.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath. That was question was irrelevant to ask. She was asking her with the tone of a protective parent, but Abby was only ever going to be a friend—especially, after the last few days.

“We met at a fundraising event last year. My dad, he was a top bidder, and her agent, Isa, was a very persistent businesswoman.” Abby chortled, charmingly. She always managed to slip her financial status within her conversation—she was good at it. In that statement alone, she announced to your mother just how much she knew you. Enough to know the name of your agent, enunciating Isa’s name in a way to exploit your closeness—because how would she know how grueling that woman was at times? As well as letting her know that she could support you in ways others probably couldn’t.

My dad, he was a top bidder.

What the fuck did that matter? Her presence alone was getting under your skin; more than it ever had. And you weren’t sure if it was her fault, or your own.

You yearned for the girl who claimed to love you earlier in the day. That’s you’re fuckin’ problem. Always wanting to be perfect— but you’re not! Not even close. And I fucking love you for it. You could hear her raspy voice crowding over Abby’s friendly words. How Ellie achieved simultaneously calling you out, while passionately confessing her love for you—again—seamlessly… You’ll never know.

“Abby,” You spoke up. “Why don’t you help set the table? I’m gonna go check on the steaks… Maybe, after, I can give you a quick tour before dinner.” The only way to survive that was to push through—make her feel at home, try not to be weird.

“Sounds great!” She rubbed her hands together, excitedly. You hand her the delicate plates, giving a smile that barely met your eyes.

On the way toward the porch, you make eye contact with your mother. Curt. Stern. Irritated. Maria didn’t care to give a reaction—you must lie in the bed you made. Even though, you didn’t intend to forget to call things off with Abby. It’s been a very busy, dramatic two days.

Slipping through the back door, you look for the comfort of your father’s eyes. “Bug! Come taste this!” Tommy clamped his tongs, motioning to his tray of steak.

“I think you should taste mine first—“

“No! She’s my daughter— she’s tastin’ mine first.”

You waved a dismissive hand, chuckling under pouty lips. “I’ll taste both, but… I have to ask you somethin’ first, Joel.” Your face fell into a serious expression.

His brown eyes twitched, amused features melting from his aged face. “Yeah…”

“Ellie’s coming back, right?” Your fingers intertwined with themselves, while you chewed on the soft skin inside of your mouth. “The secrets out now, so… She can come back.” You shrugged, childishly. “And dinner’s gonna be ready any minute now— mom’s only gonna hold off for so long. She likes her ham hot.” Words flooded from your glossy lip, followed by a timid gulp.

“What made you think she wouldn’t come back, sweetheart?”

“It’s not like you explained where she went, Joel.” You deadpanned. “I was left to my own devices— as in, my own dysfunctional brain. You know what happens when I do that.”

He pursed his lips, fighting the grin he wanted to share. Joel glanced at his brother, huffing. “You didn’t ask, either, Bug.”

You paused, crossing your arms. “Did you ever consider that I didn’t want to? If you haven’t noticed— which I know that you have— she’s pissed at me.”

Joel inhaled, cutting off a piece of his steak for you. “I’m not pissed at you, though.” He hands it over to you on a fork, and you take it mindlessly. You weren’t known for having anger issues, but it seemed as if Joel was testing you.

“Joel, can you stop being a dick and tell me where she is?” You whined, childishly, before putting the square piece of meat into your mouth, chewing with identifying eyebrows. You looked up at the darkening sky, humming. His piece blossomed with flavor. It was a little tough, but you didn’t mind it because of how flavorful it was. “This is… Great. A little tough—” The voice of your father cut you off, mid-thought. Joel shrugged, nudging Tommy’s shoulder, teasingly.

Tommy scoffed, cutting a piece for you. “He manipulated you into trying his steak first— here’s mine.” He gasped, leaning the fork your way.

With a shrug, you took the fork, pulling the meat from the prongs with your front teeth. You hummed, again, peering at your father with wide eyes. Tommy’s was more tender, with a softer, pinker inside between the char. “Okay…” You roll your tongue in your mouth. “Whichever one of you tells me where Ellie is first, wins.”

“Honey, that’s not fair—“

“She’s dropping off Cat at the train station. I suggested they break up, and I’m sure they did— Ellie should be on her way back by now.”

A mischievous grin coursed over your features that were being bitten by the crisp, autumn air. “Silly, silly, Joel.” You shook your head. “You win on flavor… Dad, you win on texture— meaning overall, my favorite is yours. Congratulations.” You pat your fathers’ shoulder, pressing your lips into a tight smile.

You pivoted on your feet, chewing on the inside of your lips in thought. Ellie was dropping Cat off at the train station—you wondered what brought her from the ledge of revenge to return home on Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, you didn’t get the chance to apologize to her for your thoughtless behavior. But… Partially, you were relieved that you didn’t have to face her. However, there was a pull in your gut that you had to apologize regardless of her absence.

It was a tug of war with your morals and ego.

Basically, you snatched the screen door open, huffing and getting the attention of the chatty blonde and your mother. She was chewing on a piece of ham, moaning in delight. “Mrs. Miller, I hope you don’t mind if I have more than one serving later…”

“There’s plenty of ham to go around, hon.” She waved a hand, the ends of her lips curling.

Your eyebrows jut together, but you covered that small change of expression with a tight smile. “You ready for that tour, Abs?” You snapped your fingers. It was an awkward and very rare movement from you, but it was barely noticed. Not by Abby, at least.

She wiped her lips with a napkin, dusting her hands on her tight jeans. “If you don’t mind?” Abby politely spoke to your mother, and for a moment, it didn’t bother you. A few months ago, these little moments were what you wished for. You envisioned her eating your mom’s cooking with a smile, conversing with her in your childhood home—but she didn’t want that. It was bitterly humorous how much of a natural she was in the scope of things.

Maria nodded, giving you an off glance, and jutting her blonde eyebrows upwards. You took her hand, dragging her out the front door, shoving through the screen door. Once you were out in the brisk, autumn air, you slid your hand from hers—crossing your arms over your chest like a shield of some sort.

“I thought your bedroom would be the first stop…” Abby chortled to herself, glancing down at you. However, you barely reacted. Perhaps, she was joking or jesting—trying to make you laugh.

Internally, you cringed. “My bedroom is the least fascinating thing here.” You narrowed your eyes at her, leading the woman down the porch. “So, what interests you the most? Horses? Goats? Cows?” You perk an eyebrow, peering up at her. Eyes switching between her semi-awkward stature and the background of the front of the house. You yearned for the dull high beams of Ellie’s truck.

“Horses are cool…” She nodded, surveying your features, trying to determine your thoughts. Abby has never been so focused on you, and frankly, it made you feel weird. A part of you wanted to relish in the fact that she was giving you the energy you had been wanting from her all along. But the wound that was severed by the touch and attention of your past lover—nothing could compare! It would be greedy for you to welcome this modified version of Abby Anderson. Deep down, if it came down to it, you’d choose Ellie over Abby; no questions asked.

“My dad, he has a soft spot for animals… The last time I saw a horse I was, like, fifteen.” Abby continued, while you led her toward the horse barn. “He took me to some ranch for my birthday.”

You hummed, raising an eyebrow. “It wasn’t this one, right?” A chuckle fell from your lips, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your overalls.

Abby guffawed, pushing a straying piece of her hair behind her ears. “No, it wasn’t this one. The ranch I went to, their horses were very easily frightened—which was odd because their whole shtick was horse-riding.” She deepened her eyebrows at the memory, shrugging her shoulders. “I almost fell off one of ‘em.”

“Geez, Abs.” You puffed air from your lips. “Well, my parents have always spent lots of time training these horses— so, you have nothing to be worried about.” Your fingers grazed the material of her shirt on her arm, pressing your lips into a smile. “The only one that isn’t formally trained is Sarah, but she’s only a few weeks old. And to be honest, she takes to new people very well.” As you approached the barn, a few of them still grazed around. It was Shimmer and Sarah out along the fence, and Hamlet sort of just watching them.

“Alright, I’ll have to trust you.” She pursed her lips.

“I’d never lead you into the fire, Abby…”

You opened the gate, walking into the enclosure of the barn. Abby appeared apprehensive about walking into their space. Her previous experience with a horse must’ve truly affected her. Warmly, you held out a hand for her—giving her the option to take it. You wiggled your fingers, sporting a slightly teasing smile. Abby took your hand, firmly, holding onto your hand as if she never wanted to let go. Spark.

Her fear was endearing; it was like seeing her in a different light. How confusing.

“Over there, that’s Shimmer and her baby Sarah. They’re both the most affectionate. Sarah takes after her mother in that way. And lingering off to the side… That’s Hamlet—he’s a bit of a loner. He likes to walk around and keep an eye on everyone.”

“Like a protector?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” You nod, still holding onto her coarse hand. “I could introduce you to Shimmer? Like I said, she’s super sweet— I’m sure she’ll adore you.” You wanted to give her the option because that was just the type of person that you were. Despite your flip-floppy relationship, in a sense, you allowed her admittance of a small fear to soften your heart to her. The tethering of your hands, the feeling of leading her—controlling her, guiding her—it gave you a sense of comfort. It was a connection that you were waiting for. However, still, it didn’t feel the same compared to the auburn-haired artist. Now, that there was a chance to compare.

Her palms were too coarse, more focused on her inner knuckles, remnants of her history with heavy lifting. While Ellie’s exposed her love of physical art, music, drawing, painting. The callouses relied on her fingertips rather than her palms—and for some reason, that mattered more to you.

With her hand in yours, you lead her toward Shimmer, cooing as you approached her. You muttered sweet words to the much shorter horse, Sarah, before guiding her hand to touch Shimmer. You palm over the back of her hand to reassure that Abby was safe—that she wasn’t going to hurt her.

You weren’t leading her into the fire.

Her soft, blue eyes gleamed at you, but it was hard to notice at first as you were focused on Shimmer. Your other hand scratched at the side of her neck, burrowing your nails under her coarse fur. A nervous tick; an attempt at ignoring the harsh gaze of the blonde next to you. Abby’s dilated irises penetrated the side of your face with the weight of a glare. You swallowed a lump in your throat, averting your eyes from Shimmer’s copper fur toward her enamored features.

There wasn’t much time for you to take in her look of yearning before she enveloped you into her arms, attaching her lips to yours. She shared her warmth with her firm arms cradling your bare ones, and it did, in fact, warm you up. But it wasn’t warm. Although, your arms automatically wrapped around her shoulders—fingers imbedding into her fine, blonde hair—you allowed her touch to consume you. Her desperate touch. Her lips plead against yours, pleading for you to dive into her as she wanted you to. As you used to with fervor. Abby noticed your lack of enthusiasm, or more so attempt to replicate your past enthusiasm. She prided herself on her intelligence, meaning that she knew something had changed between the two of you. Either you gained more self-respect for yourself, or there was someone else.

Someone who touched you better than she did. Someone who had the time to love you how you wanted to be loved.

Off in the dark, a truck pulled onto the graveled driveway of the younger Millers’ home. When she put the car in park, leaned her head against the stirring wheel, releasing a groan of relief. The trip to the train station was long, and initially silent. Until Cat became livid enough to make Ellie pull over for an hour. She was sobbing, screaming, unleashing her pent-up anger on the artist—and deservingly so; Ellie knew that much. Debatably, it was one of her best fuckups because it brought you back to her.

It all began with the tempting of a fruit. The garden of Eden—your quivering lips in a filthy, bar bathroom. Historians call that the fall of man, however, ever since she succumbed to you, she’s felt higher than she ever has. A burning joint was nothing compared to you.

Ellie’s poor decision making was worth Cat’s wrath if it brought her back to you.

But there was a lingering pressure that haunted her mind like a juvenile insecurity. A two-syllable word that was a poltergeist in her mind—fickle. Was the reigniting of a fire, the fire that Ellie sparked, received for the sake of receiving. Maybe, you didn’t love her like you claimed—but that didn’t make sense. Not for you!

The disorganized artist worried and worried and worried. When her dull high beams reflected off the white, farmhouse ahead of her; her nerves only increased. There was this need to prove herself to you that she couldn’t shake.

After gathering courage, she hopped out of her truck, slamming the door to release the energy that harbored at the pit of her belly. Ellie shoved the key into the driver’s door, locking all of the doors with a huff. Her toes pivoted, hands sliding into her front pockets as she approached the house—mentally readying herself to see your face again. The last time the two of you spoke, she proclaimed her love for you despite your blundering imperfections. Ellie was sure that you didn’t take well to that; she needed to explain!

Her beat-up converse crunched over the gravel; she could feel every pebble under her deteriorating sole. In the dark, her earthy eyes squinted in the direction of the barn—to get a look at the grazing horses she spent time with earlier. Ellie wanted to check up on them from the distance in which she walked. However, she was met with a sight that burned her from the inside out.

It was you wrapped in the arms of the same woman from the bar. Tall in her stature, in a black shirt that hugged her protruding muscles perfectly. Long, glimmering, golden hair that your fingers punctured. To feel a combination of emotions was an understatement.

Her fingers tingled up her slender arms, lips arching in disgust. “What the fuck is happening…?” Ellie muttered with grit, starting to stalk toward the house, scoffing under her breath. But, before she reached the stairs to the porch, she turned on her feet again. Consumed with frustration, she began to lead herself toward the horse barn with stiff shoulders and balled-up fists.

Ellie appeared on the opposite side of the fence than you and Abby with a look in her eye that could be confused for estrangement. While you were already breaking apart, placing your hand on Abby’s firm chest, unable to meet her eyes—afraid to expose your apprehension. The artist’s appearance caused you to nearly jump out of your boots. You jumped a few inches from the taller blonde woman, placing your fingers over your glistening lips, ruminating with regret.

“I’m afraid we haven’t gotten the chance to meet— I’m Ellie.” Her raspy voice was taut, and too formal. It was barely the voice that you were used to. She failed to offer a physical greeting, like offering her hand; she just kept her hands had her sides.

You hid your face in your hands, cursing to yourself. Fuck. Fuck. Abby lips parted, awkwardly. “Uhm, Abby Anderson… I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her slender eyebrows jutted upwards, and she held out her hand, but wasn’t met with warmth. It was true that she knew about Ellie—the past version of her, at least. She’d heard the story of her poking and prodding at you in your youth, but even with that, you never spoke ill of her. By the time you met Abby, there was a level of accountability taken over the situation that didn’t exist years before.

She was nothing more than a story about your first love.

Ellie glanced at you, bitterly. “Yeah, I’m sure you have…” She ran her earthy eyes up Abby’s tall, muscular figure with a frown.

“Ellie—” Her voice cut you off before you could speak, causing you to look off to the side in contempt.

“Dinner’s ready, right? We should probably head inside… Wouldn’t wanna leave Maria waiting.” The auburn-haired woman stalked off before either you or Abby had the chance to react. You sighed, barely sparing the blonde a glance before following behind her. A frown pressed deeply onto your lips, mind racing behind your shifting, watering eyes. Abby muttered a ‘what the hell’ under her breath, smacking her hands against her thighs. But you didn’t say anything, just gnawed on the inside of your lip, anxiously. The tables turned too fast for your liking.

The auburn-haired artist didn’t care to hold the screen door open for you and your guest, quickly entering the house. Tommy and Joel were inside sorting the steaks out in a singular disposable tin pan. They looked up simultaneously, like brothers, at the sight before them. Joel squinted at the sight of a fuming Ellie, or the sight of her trying to hide her frustration and anger. And Tommy looked to you with a similar look, and a simple jut of his eyebrows at the blonde woman behind you.

“Steak! I’m fucking starving.” You heard Ellie mutter, walking to the counter after taking a plate from the dining table.

A sigh left your lips while your father handed you an empty plate, but you passed it over to Abby—still, not sparing her a glance. Then, he handed you another one. The blonde man leans down, speaking in your ear while your mother tried to break the awkwardness of Abby’s presence. “Something happened?” He muttered, putting food on his plate.

“Mhm…” You glanced at him with wide, weary eyes.

Somehow, everyone found themselves sat at the dining table: you between Abby and your mother, and Ellie between Tommy and Joel—you were looking straight at each other. You pleaded with your eyes for her not to react; that you could explain if you were given the chance. But that was too much to say with only a pointed gaze.

“So, Abby, what do you do?” She asked the blonde beside you, cutting her steak, forcefully.

“I’m a surgeon— an intern at Bellevue Hospital.” She nodded, forking the vegetables on her plate.

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Tommy nodded, he glanced at her. His comment made Ellie’s eye twitch, subtly. “I have a friend who works in the medical field— have you figured out your specialty yet, or…”

Abby hummed, sipping water from a shiny glass cup, looking over the rim to meet your father’s eyes. “Not quite. My dad’s a general surgeon, so that interested me the most— but the more I work with surgeons under different specialties, the more I find myself interested in other things.” She swallowed, blinking. “Like, now, I’m considering orthopedic surgery.”

“That’s the one with the bones, right?” Joel questioned, partly chewing on his food.

“Yes, sir. That’s the one.” She chuckled, leaning her forearms on the table.

You watched Ellie take a gulp of her beer before speaking once more. “So, if you’re a surgeon… And y/n’s a writer— how’d the two of you meet?”

Maria smiled, glancing at her husband. “Well, Ellie, they met through her agent, Isa. At an event— what was it? A gala?”

“A fundraiser.” Finally, you spoke up to correct, holding up a finger that proclaimed your usual know-it-all behavior. Then, you reached for your wine glass, taking large gulps to down the substance—hoping it’d ease your uneven temper. You noticed that your lover, the auburn-haired one, had played the word fundraiser on her tongue. Under her breath, she talked to herself as if she was mocking the way you said the word.

The muscular blonde beside you cleared her throat, leveling her bright eyes onto the woman in front of you. “What do you do, Ellie?” Abby wondered with a barely noticeable sneer, but you caught it.

From the corner of your eye, you peered at her, stiffening your frame.

Her round, olive eyes glared at her—a glare that nobody at that table could miss. Everyone but Abby knew Ellie through and through; her anger couldn’t be hidden. In fact, she was the last person at that table who could ever hide her anger. “I’m an artist.” She curtly responded.

“So, you draw?”

“And she paints.” You fill in, turning your head in the direction of your guest. Her inquiry seemed backhanded—passive aggressive—and that struck a nerve. As if drawing was insignificant. “She’s really good at it.” Your eyes meet hers and for a moment her harsh, green eyes softened.

“Have I seen any of your work anywhere?”

“You don’t seem like a coffee shop person, so I doubt it.” Ellie grimaced, rolling her eyes. “I’m getting another drink.” Abruptly, she stood out of her chair, to walk into the kitchen that was hidden behind a wall and corner. The wooden legs screeching against the floor, causing you to cringe.

Abby shrugged, peering at you with a slight curl to her lips. “I love coffee.”

You scoffed, shutting your eyes. Without saying a word, you stood to your feet to follow her into the kitchen. Before you slipped away, you managed to slide your fingers along your guests’ shoulders as a way of reassurance—mainly so she wouldn’t get the urge to follow you.

When you entered the kitchen, Ellie was found with her hands braced on the counter and her head hanging low. The heels of your cowboy boots clicking against kitchen floor, slowly. Apprehensively. Nervously. You played with your fingertips, puffing air from your lips. “Ellie…”

“What the fuck was that?” Her eyes met yours, stressed and irritated with striking red veins.

You shrugged, pressing your lips into a line. “I was sticking up for you—“

“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about and you know that…” She scorned, barely even blinking her eyes. They bored into you in a way that almost petrified your frame.

You swallowed, casting your eyes up to the ceiling, guiltily. “It just happened.”

“It just happened?” She perked a scarred eyebrow, chortling, dryly. “It just fucking happened— I bet you could say the same for what happened between us, too, huh?” Ellie turned her body toward you, keeping her other hand leaning on the counter. Her voice was level, trying to keep the conversation down so other wouldn’t hear it—because even when she was angry, she still felt the need to shield you. Or more so, keep your relationship problems undercover. “Tell me, y/n… Am I fucking idiot? You made this big fuss about me breaking up with Cat, and the second I do, I see you eating Abby’s fucking face!”

“I wasn’t eating her face…”

“Semantics!”

“It was out of nowhere— I didn’t ask her to kiss me, Ellie!” You tried with a deep furrow in your brow, lips quivering. “It’s just… It’s just we have history—“

She laughed, bitterly.

“We have history and she’s stuck in a cycle I haven’t had the chance to break.”

Ellie squinted her eyes at you. “What the hell does that even mean?” Voice pulled taut, stepping closer to you. “You said that if I got rid of Cat, you’d get rid of Abby.”

“I forgot she was coming! Did you forget the day we had?!” The space between you was closing in the heat of frustration. “We didn’t exactly end on good terms earlier— excuse me for letting something as minuscule as Abby attending dinner to slip my mind.” You rambled with a secretive voice. “I had a very eventful day—“

“And you think I didn’t?”

You groaned under your breath, bunching your hands into fists at your sides. “I never said you didn’t… I just said that I did. There’s a lot on my mind.” A sigh fled your lips, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. “You know, I told my parents about us— right after our argument, because I couldn’t let them hear it from you or Cat.” Your voice softened, peering into her dilated eyes. Your trembling fingers tethered to the cotton that covered her arm, sliding down, attempting to reach for her hand. “I made peace with what we did… Because I wanna be with you, Els.” The choice to quote her own words wasn’t intentional, it was your truth.

When she had scolded you in your own bedroom, it wasn’t a great feeling, but she wasn’t wrong. You needed to stop wanting to be perfect all the time—nobody makes the best decisions every chance they get. Sometimes people fuckup and that’s okay.

The image of you searching her eyes made her heart melt. She wanted to fall into you—to kiss you, and say everything was fine… Even if it wasn’t. Ellie felt your hand creeping into hers. Your soft fingertips tapping her stiff palm. She found herself proud of you for admitting your faults to your parents—it was your greatest fear, but you did it anyway. Perhaps, you have changed or you were learning to. However, the looming presence of that buff surgeon irritated her.

Jealousy was a raging bitch.

And, speaking of… There she came, strutting into the kitchen with a look of concern. “Hey, is everything alright?” Her deep blue eyes only looked at you, gaging your stability—she couldn’t care less for Ellie’s.

Ellie swiped her hand from yours, running that same hand through her hair. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” She reached into the fridge, snatching a glass bottle of beer from the door. Just as quick as she did that, she fled the scene. Not sparing you a glance.

Eerily, your hand felt cold. You pouted, watching her leave, scratching your eyebrow. Abby uttered your name, sliding her hand around your waist. Your body tensed under her touch—it wasn’t what you yearned for. “Everything’s fine, Abby.” You breathed, gently touching the hand on your waist, removing it. However, you hid your form of rejection by turning to her, plastering a fake smile on your face.

“Joel started playing his guitar… Didn’t want you to miss it.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before— but I don’t want you to miss it, so…” You take in a deep inhale, averting your eyes. “I’ll meet you in there. I need a minute.”

Abby appeared taken aback and confused. You weren’t acting like the person she thought that she knew. And to be fair, it all started at the Tipsy Bison. “What’s going on— is something wrong—?”

“I just need a minute, alright?” You stressed, pinching your features. Almost snapping at her, but not quite. Still, your tone unnerved the blonde. She twitched, backing up from you with dejected shoulders. Abby scoffed under her breath, leaving you to pace in the kitchen alone—just like you wanted.

Because of your sudden stance at the dinner table, standing up to trot after Ellie, you forgot your empty wine glass. Instead of ducking toward the table to grab it, you just grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet. You poured a full glass of the Pinot Grigio that Ellie and Tommy had brought—nearly filling it to the brim. God, you needed a cigarette. The nicotine could hold you and console you better than a full bottle of wine. Better than the large, calloused hands of Abigail Anderson. But, better than the nimble, lightly calloused hands of Ellie Williams? Her arms? The whisps of her bluntly cut hair tickling your skin—no. Nothing was better than that… Than her.

The melodic sounds of Joel’s guitar filled your ears, and the impressed chuckles of his brother—your father. You missed hearing him play. His pleasant strum eased the spirits slipping down your throat. Then, you heard another tune, and it pulled you from the confines of the kitchen.

Your fingers held the bulbous part of the glass, resting your elbow over your arm. You moved as if you were being drawn spiritually to the living room, appearing behind Abby.

Ellie had propped herself on a stool in front of the television, with her own guitar, the one that had an inscription of your initials on the neck. It couldn’t be seen from the position you stood, but the feeling of knowing it was still there made your heart lurch.

Your parents sat on the couch, and Joel had been on a loveseat toward the side, fiddling with his own guitar. Nervously, Ellie plucked the copper strings of her guitar, attempting to quickly tune it. Her freckled cheeks were warm and a light shade of pink.

Her earthy eyes looked up at your sudden appearance and you smiled behind your full glass of wine, shyly. The corners of her plush lips curled in a subtle way that your guest would miss it—or at least you hoped that she did. Or… Maybe you didn’t. You’ve proven to be a shameless person over the past few days.

When she began to strum the guitar, she played the tune of a song that was familiar to you—Keane—Somewhere Only We Know. It was one of the songs featured on her MySpace account, in her bio. One of the first things a lurker would notice after seeing her fandom username.

Her soft, timid voice rose from her throat, singing the beginning of the song. You sipped at your white wine, lowering the glass so she could see the smile unable to fall from your lips. There was a rasp to her voice that exposed her skills to be an effect of her hobby-ing. Ellie sung not because she was good at it, but because she wanted to—it gave her comfort. And, perhaps, that’s what she needed.

“So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in… I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin.”

Your epidermis burned, cheeks heating up as if it were w furnace being heated by charring charcoal. Let me in. It was selfish for you to apply yourself to the words she spoke that was written by another person. But you needed to let her in! Irrevocably.

However, for you to do that… You needed to let Abby out.

You reached up for her shoulder, tugging her closer to your level, so you could whisper in her ear. “Meet me in my bedroom in five minutes— upstairs.” Your lips moved close to the shell of her ear, fingers tapping along her strong shoulder. She didn’t know where your bedroom was, but you were certain she’d find it.

Maria side-eyed you as you slipped away with slumping shoulders. Ellie noticed your departure, stammering on the lyrics she was singing, but she kept going, dejectedly.

The navigation from the living room to your bedroom helped you realize the sum of what you drank. You stumbled on your way up the stairs, holding onto the railing, shutting your eyes and shaking your head to gather yourself.

When you entered your bedroom, you set the glass on your bedside table, meandering to your reading nook. You had swiped the pack of cigarettes from your dresser, opening up the window and lighting up to calm your wired nerves.

The cool breeze wafted into your bedroom, sending a chill down your spine. Between your index and middle finger was your burning stick of nicotine and tobacco. Remnants stuck to your clothes before slipping out the flushing window.

You practiced how you were going to break it off with her. Direct or indirect—which one was best?

Abby, we need to talk…

Abby, I have something to tell you—

“There you are…” The blonde woman peeked into your bedroom before walking inside. She shut the door behind her, and you frowned out your window. “Your room’s pinker than I thought I’d be.” Abby chortled, preparing to join you on the nook, but you spoke before she could.

“We can’t see each other anymore…” You puffed smoke from your lips, eyeing her from the corner of your eye.

She bunched her eyebrows together, lips parting. “What—?”

“And don’t act like we weren’t seeing each other, because we very much were.”

Her hands hit her thighs. “I wasn’t going to.” A deep sigh came from her mouth, fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Fuck, I should’ve seen this coming.” Abby muttered, shaking her head.

You tapped your thumb around the mouthpiece of your cigarette to get rid of the ashes. “I should’ve never invited you here. I knew better, but—“ The corner of your mouth lifted and you laughed. “I wanted to be an asshole. You don’t deserve that, though. Even if you led me on for a few months.”

“Is that what all this is about? What happened with us?” She ran her hand through her hair, cheeks reddening. “y/n, I wasn’t thinking and…”

“It doesn’t matter, Abby.” You looked at her, intently. “I need someone who makes time for me— even in the oddest of situations, and that’s not you.” You tried to keep your business to yourself. The relationship that was blooming between you and an old flame; it was sacred. And, she didn’t need to know that you were taking on homewrecking as a hobby.

She scoffed, averting her eyes from you. “What did you think me driving down here was, then? Skipping out on my friends to come to a place you didn’t even want me to be—“

“I didn’t ask you to skip out on your friends—“

“Well, I did anyway!”

A beat passed between the both of you.

The blonde woman frowned. “For you, because I wanted to make up for…” Her voice trailed off, eyes welling up with tears. “It was all for nothing, clearly.”

Earlier, you had made promise that you wouldn’t lead her into fire. Yet, that’s exactly what you did. “Abby, I still appreciate you coming and being so helpful and kind to my family but… To be honest, it’s too late for me.”

Her hand wiped against her face, roughly. She trained her eyes on a spot in your room that was interesting enough to keep her emotional gaze—instead of looking you in the eye. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

You deepened your eyebrows. “Do I think you’re stupid—? “

“It’s Ellie, isn’t it?”

Your lips fell open, gaping like fish gasping for air. “You textbook lesbian…” Abby muttered to herself, chuckling, dryly.

“Abby!” You scolded, glaring up at her.

“What? It’s the truth. I never had a fucking chance to begin with.”

In a fit of frustration, you dabbed the end of your burning cigarette onto one of your pillows, burning through the material. “That’s not true!” You stood up, abruptly. “I gave you a chance months ago, and you fucking blew it!” You pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re career meant more to you—“

“Since when is that a bad thing—?”

“Fuckin’ other girls meant more to you!”

She gasped. “Oh, come on, you know that’s a reach…” Her eyes rolled, dismissively.

Stubbornly, you crossed your arms. “Do I?”

Abby scoffed, laughing, dryly. “Ever since I met you… I liked you— I was into you. I wanted you.” She confessed, tiredly. “My unavailability wasn’t some made up lie to pull a fast one. I was an overachieving, fourth-year med student who didn’t wanna risk too many distractions.” The woman explained, pausing for anxious breath. “Yeah, I know, I said some things that probably hurt your feelings—“

“Probably?” You perked an eyebrow.

She sighed. “Hurting your feelings was the only way I knew you wouldn’t expect anything of me more than what I was capable of— and, at the time, relationship-wise… I wasn’t capable of anything.” Her shoulders shrugged, weakly. As if she’s been keeping this to herself for some time.

Weirdly, you’re shoulders relaxed at her explanation. While you didn’t agree with her techniques to keep you at arms-length, you weren’t in the position to keep holding onto that frustration with her. You had other priorities. “I guess you’re right… I fucking blew it.”

Now, you sighed, averting your eyes around your room in thought. “You know, maybe, we were always meant to be friends?” You offered, rocking on your feet.

“You think I wanna be friends with you, right now?” Abby raised an eyebrow, looking at you from the side of her irritated eyes. But, there was a light smile on her lips, exposing that she wasn’t completely upset. Just disappointed that things didn’t work out as she’d hoped. “Seems like there’s something going on with you and that artist downstairs… That’s not something I wanna see— at least, not anytime soon, so…”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, whenever you have some free time on your hands, whenever you, you know, find someone else, or whatever… Maybe we could get some coffee— as friends.”

She genuinely chortled, cheeks blushing. “Yeah, whatever, Miller.” Abby jutted her thumb toward your door. “I’m gonna head out.”

You nodded, walking her to your bedroom door, following her out. “You want me to make you a plate, or anything?” That southern hospitality that was bred into you through your family could never be mistaken for being gone. Those years in the city hadn’t deteriorated you in that way. Even when you were breaking up with someone.

The woman pressed her lips into a line. “You know, what? Yeah, sure.”

“Good, because I was gon’ make you one anyway.” You nudged her side with your elbow, grinning ear to ear.

There was freedom that came to your unabashed honesty. As you walked down the stairs, your limps felt lighter, and that drunken feeling had almost spared you completely. Almost. On the last step, you nearly tripped but the sturdy railing kept your body level.

As you rounded the corner, Ellie brushed passed you and out the front door with her hand clutching her guitar. Her emotional eyes had caught the smile on your lips and perceived something that wasn’t true—just a shady assumption.

And she had every reason to assume.

The television had been turned up, and the sounds of the football game was blaring through the lower level of the house. You held up a finger to Abby, walking to your mother. “Hey,” You greeted, massaging your father’s shoulder as a physical greeting. “Would you mind makin’ Abby a plate to take home?”

She raised an eyebrow, an impressed eyebrow. “Oh, she’s leaving so soon?”

“I’m throwin’ in the asshole towel.” You shrugged, referencing her comment from earlier.

Maria chuckled, but her husband looked up at you with deepened eyebrows. “What the hell did you just say? Asshole towel—?”

“Just focus on the game, honey.” She patted her husbands shoulder, jumping to her feet. Maria met you around the couch, leaning close to you. “You go’n ahead and check on Ellie.”

You smiled, kissing her cheek, lovingly. Before you left out the door you, pointed at the tall doctor lingering in your kitchen. “Text me when you get back into the city, okay?”

Abby gave you a thumbs up. “Yeah,” Her eyes turned to your mothers frame. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

Then, you slipped out the screen door, busting into a hasty speed walk. The uneven gravel wrecking havoc on your ankles, due to your slight impairment.

The porch light at the guesthouse flickered—it must need its bulb to be changed. When you appeared on the porch, your fist trembled as you raised it to knock on the door. Knock, knock, knock. You wrapped your arms around your body to keep warm.

A few moments passed and she didn’t respond.

You knocked the same pattern, and waited. Only for her to not respond, again. Behind you, you heard the engine of Abby’s Jaguar sounding off, beginning to roll along the gravel. But, you didn’t care much for it.

Heat in your cheeks blistered. “Ellie, I know you’re in there… Please, can you just open the door?” You tried with frowned lips. “It isn’t gettin’ any warmer out here…”

There was a brief silence before you heard her raspy voice on the other side of the door. “What? Abby can’t keep you warm anymore?” She scoffed.

You sighed, leaning an arm on the door frame. “No, she can’t because she just left.”

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled artist, fingers covered in charcoal. “Really?”

“Really.” You met her eyes with sincerity.

Ellie groaned, releasing the tension that she’s been harboring, leaving the door and walking into the living room.

That was her letting you inside, so you adhered, walking into the guesthouse. You shut the door behind you, eyeing her slender retreating frame. She meandered into the living room, placing hers on the stool in front of her easel. It was a new canvas, still being sketched on before she added the paints.

The pan of the pie sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, with a fork inside of it. She had taken the pie for herself, and instead of making a plate, she ate it from the tin.

Ellie continued the project she was working on, barely even giving you a glance. To break the silence, you spoke. “I meant what I said earlier…”

You couldn’t exactly see what she was sketching because you wanted to keep your distance for her sake—to respect her uncertainty. “I don’t know…” She muttered, shaking her head.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

The woman sighed, turning her body toward you on the stool. She pushed the pieces of her auburn hair behind her pierced ears. “I’m an artist who’s only sells my paintings to local coffee shops for under a hundred bucks, because I’m too scared to try anywhere else— she’s a fucking doctor… And she’s ripped!” Her hands slapped against her thighs. “Why do you wanna be with me?”

Taken aback by her outburst, you blinked. A soft scoff left your lips. “Well, I don’t like you only because you’re an artist… And I didn’t like Abby only because she was a doctor— what kind of person do you think I am?” You questioned, softly. “I wanna be with you because I love you, Ellie— Abby could never make me feel what you make me feel.” You giggle behind your finger, briefly averting your eyes. “It’s like… I can fuckin’ smell colors and taste sounds—“

“Okay, now you’re just saying whatever.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked why I want to be with you. I’m just being honest.” You shrugged, approaching her. Gently, you caressed your fingers up her bare arms, sliding up her neck to the crevice of her jaw. “I know it wasn’t easy to see what you saw earlier, and I’m sorry— I mean, just seeing you hug Cat made me wanna blow up.” She leaned into your touch, keening to you.

Smiling down at her, your eyes casted to the canvas on the easel. It was an outline of you—matter of fact, your naked body. “Ellie,” A gasp fled from your lips. “This better be an example of your photographic memory.”

Her hands had snuck along your hips, pulling you close enough for her head to rest on your chest. “It is… What do you think— I’m some sort of creep?”

“I find it funny that when you’re mad at me… Your first instinct is to draw me naked.” You snicker.

She hummed against the center pocket of your overalls. “I wasn’t necessarily mad— I was just… Sad.” Ellie looked up at you with a pout on her lips, batting her big, green eyes at you in a way that compelled you. “Abby is so much more than me— fuck, she’s financially worth more than me.” She inhaled, deeply. “What made me upset was that I understood why you’d choose her… She has a great career—“

Interrupting her, you plotted your lips against hers until her reciprocating was less confused and more enthused. Your finger dragged along her scalp, gripping slightly. When you pulled away, she leaned forward for more. “I don’t wanna talk about her anymore.” Your thumb grazed over her eyebrow, ingesting her soft features. The freckles that littered over the bridge of her nose, the subtle cracks in her lips. “I’ve been waiting to get you all to myself for days now— I refuse to waste it away because of some girl.”

“Some girl, huh?”

“Mhm.” You hummed. “I missed that cover of Keane that you had sung earlier… You think you could play it for me?” You pursed your lips, and she pulled your hips closer to her, pulling you between her legs.

Ellie peered up at you with yearning irises. “I can play whatever you want.”

A giggle escaped from your lips before you plotted them against hers once more, pulling her up to her feet. You pulled her to the bedroom, where her guitar was thrown over the messy, unmade bed.

She propped herself on the edge of the bed, and you plopped onto the ground so you could properly be her audience. You hugged your legs to your chest, looking up at her with a level of awe that you haven’t had in a while. Reflections of your past looked back at you—Ellie gripping the neck of her instrument, strumming the metal chords that’s been with her for years. Those chords had witnessed the glimmering eyes you were giving her; at a much younger age, before shit went haywire.

The smooth tone of Somewhere Only We Know glided through your ears, ignoring the chords she lagged on, or messed up because it didn’t matter. When she finished, Ellie barely got the chance to look at you before you leaped up to kiss her again. Gently, you pulled the guitar from her hands, leaning it up against the bed, tethering to her as if she were a wave crashing along an eroding boulder.

To love her freely was a weight lifted off your shoulders. It was a rush of water sprinting up the sand within a storm. A breaching of magma exploding from the mouth of a volcano—a expression of a release of passion. The inevitable.

No more Cat. No more Abby. But, besides the good sex, and the warmth of each other’s genuine embrace, and the comfort of knowing each other through and through… What else was there?

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#🪅#millersfinest #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #lesbian #ellie williams series #untethered

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pedroscurls · 3 months ago

Text

training partners (pt. 14)

summary: you accompany hugh to the new york premiere of deadpool & wolverine - the first hollywood event that you're attending by his side since the both of you had gotten together. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected p in v, missionary (kind of?), slow and sensual bc they in love 🤭, creampie, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader physical description (hair and clothes only) no use of y/n. word count: 3.9k a/n: wow - another early update, who am i??? lol, hope y'all enjoyed this part. i really just wanted to write a smutty chapter surrounding the NY premiere of the movie. stay tuned because the angst is coming back - it's just right around the corner... as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You had finally moved all of your things into Hugh’s apartment and slowly, your things blend in with his – your clothes hung next to his in the closet, your toiletries on the bathroom counter mixed with his own, and you both had claimed each side of the bed already. It surprises you how easy it is with him, how normal this all feels. Sometimes, you find yourself dreaming of what your life would look like years from now and the only constant thing is him. Hugh.

It scares you – how much you love him and how much he loves you. After Jack, you didn’t think you’d find someone to love you the way Hugh does, the way someone should be loved. And even months after moving in, you had been originally worried that maybe he’d get tired of you, that he’d want his own space from you, but it never came. He truly meant it when he said he was addicted to you because every chance he could get since you’ve moved in, Hugh would have to be touching you – a hand on your shoulder as you both watch a movie in the living room, one arm wrapped around your lower back as you both stand next to each other cooking dinner, cuddling you from behind every night.

You do, however, enjoy coming home to him after a day of shooting. He’d always be there with a smile, greeting you in the driveway. Some nights, you don’t go to bed until late at night, having to edit the photographs that you’ve taken for couples and periodically editing the pictures you’ve taken from the set of Deadpool & Wolverine. And when you do lose track of time, Hugh’s there to gently rest his hands on your shoulders from behind, leaning down to place a light kiss on your temple. He’d whisper and tell you that it’s time to go to bed, slowly shutting your laptop and pulling you into his arms.

You’ve been increasingly busy that you forget the premiere of Deadpool & Wolverine is fast approaching. You’re standing in the closet, arms crossed over your chest as you look through your clothes. You aren’t sure what you’re going to wear and you feel anxious, nervous to attend the premiere. It’s the first time that you’ll be accompanying Hugh to a Hollywood event, the first time debuting your relationship with him and you don’t know what to expect. There are still comments from pictures that he posts of you on his Instagram, questioning the age gap and questioning your true intentions. You don’t think that you’d ever get used to that aspect of his life and while you’ve gotten better at shutting out those negative comments, you’d be lying if you said that it no longer affects you.

You hear Hugh shuffle into the closet, his strong arms wrapping around you from behind. He presses a kiss to your temple and looks at your clothes, confused. “What are we looking at in here?”

“I don’t know what to wear for the premiere. I can’t believe I forgot that it was this weekend. I’ve just been so busy and–”

Hugh chuckles, turning you around slowly in his arms. “Baby, I got it all taken care of. Don’t worry about it.”

“Even what I’m going to wear?”

Hugh nods. “Yes. You’ve shown me your calendar. I know you were gonna be busy leading up to the premiere, so I had everything done for you.”

“Even my dress?” you repeat, brow arching.

“Yes, baby,” he chuckles. “I actually had Blake help me out with it, told me that it’d be a surprise.”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna wear? Hugh!”

“Baby, whatever you wear is gonna look good regardless,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “All I know is that it’s black to match with my suit and that I’m gonna like it a lot.”

“But what about me?” you laugh quietly. “Am I going to like it?”

“I hope so,” he laughs.

“Well, I trust Blake,” you smile, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest.

“Are you saying you don’t trust me to get you a nice dress?” Hugh asks, gently pulling back to look down into your eyes.

“... yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” you grin mischievously, slowly pulling away from him to step back.

Hugh’s eyes narrow down at you and walk towards you, reaching out for you. “Where ya going, baby? Hm?”

“Just… you know, away from you,” you laugh, turning on your heel and running out of the closet.

Hugh chuckles and jogs after you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he gently falls back on the bed with you. He hovers above you, his hands slowly moving along your sides. “Tell me again, you don’t trust me to pick out a nice dress for you?”

“Hugh, don’t even think about it,” you tell him, reaching for his hands. He chuckles and grabs your wrists with one of his large hands and pins them above your head, parting your legs with his own as he settles between the space of your legs. “Hugh!”

“What, baby?”

“You know what!”

“I don’t,” he smirks. “Do tell.”

“Don’t tickle me! You know I’m ticklish,” you smile, squirming against him. “I take it back. I do trust you. I trust you completely.”

Hugh chuckles and moves his hand from your side to rest on your hip, leaning down to peck your lips lightly. “I wouldn’t trust me to pick out a dress for you either,” he smiles. “But I do like teasing you like this, holding you down until you can’t move.” His gaze darkens briefly as he presses his hips into yours, his manhood hardening beneath the fabric.

“I like it too,” you admit, biting your lower lip. “I like being at your mercy.”

“You do, huh?” Hugh grins, moving his lips along your jawline and down the side of your neck. “Then why don’t you listen sometimes, hm?”

“To be punished,” you answer immediately, eyes falling shut when you feel his teeth graze your pulse point.

“Such a bad girl,” he growls, pulling back to look down at you. “And now, what are we gonna be? Good or bad?”

“What do you want me to be, Hugh?” you ask, licking your lower lip in anticipation.

Hugh smirks, moving his hand from your hip to push underneath your shirt. “Surprise me,” he whispers, his hand moving upwards until his hand covers your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple.

“Good, then,” you groan, legs wrapping around his waist. “I’ll be good…”

“Yeah, you will,” Hugh smirks and then pulls away from you to stand from the bed, eyes gazing every inch of your body. “Now be a good girl and turn to lie on your stomach, ass in the air, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you answer, turning over like he asked and resting on your forearms as you push your backside in the air for him.

“Sir?” Hugh groans, moving a hand over your ass as he pushes his hips flush against yours. “I like that.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls it down your legs, grunting at the sight of your lace panties. “Gonna make you feel real good, honey.”

—

The day of the premiere, you feel your nerves begin to settle in. You’re standing in the bathroom, fingers running over the black dress that hangs against the door. Your make-up remains light and your hair is pulled back into a neat bun, strands of curled hair falling over your face.

“You almost ready, baby?” Hugh calls out, adjusting the sleeves of his button-down shirt as he pulls on the black blazer.

“Yeah, one sec,” you answer, pulling on the black dress that immediately clings to your curves. You look over yourself, biting your lower lip at the sight. The black maxi dress is sleeveless with a high neckline, the silhouette of the dress enhancing your curves with your back exposed due to the low cut of the dress. Taking a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom and watch Hugh turn around to face you.

“My god,” he growls. Hugh gently takes your hand and slowly spins you around in front of him, eyes gazing your entire frame from top to bottom and bottom to top. “Remind me to thank Blake tonight. Wow, baby,” he bites his lower lip and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “You look amazing.”

“Blake knows my style,” you smile, looking up at him. “But look at you,” you bring your hands to the lapels of his blazer, gently tugging it to bring him closer to you. “Think we can, you know,” you wink suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows.

“It won’t be a quick one if we start now,” he groans. “But you can guarantee that I’m gonna have my way with you when we get home.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh quietly, pointing to the heels that are resting near the bed. “Can you help me with my heels?”

Hugh nods, hands running down your sides before he kneels in front of you. You take a seat at the edge of the bed, watching him place each foot into your heels, his hands lingering along your calf, yearning to move further and further up.

“Hugh,” you warn.

“Sorry, baby. You just look fucking breathtaking.” He stands up slowly, extending a hand out for you to take. Once you do, Hugh pulls you to stand in front of him, leaning down to press his lips against yours. His free hand moves to your back, brushing his thumb across your skin as he moves his lips slowly with your own. “Gonna be tough to keep my hands to myself tonight,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away.

You laugh quietly and shake your head, moving your hands up to his shoulders. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course,” he says softly. “What’s up?”

“I’m nervous,” you admit. “I know people are aware that we’re together, but this – it feels different.”

Hugh’s eyes soften as he reaches up to gently cup your cheek. “If you ever do feel uncomfortable, you let me know, okay?”

You nod and turn your head to gently press a light kiss on the inside of his wrist. “You won’t leave my side, right?”

“Never,” he whispers. “It’s gonna be okay. Besides, with that dress you’ve got on?” Hugh whistles, winking down at you. “People are gonna be more focused on how good you look rather than the topic of us.”

You roll your eyes and gently nudge his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.” Biting your lower lip, you look up at him and lean up to gently kiss his cheek. “I love you. Let’s go do this.”

—

You look out the window when the car comes to a stop. You can hear the loud cheering from the fans, followed by the sounds of the cameramen flashing their cameras and calling out names. You take a deep breath and look up at Hugh who climbs out of the car first, waving to the crowd as it roars even louder.

He extends a hand out for you and smiles – his eyes gaze into yours and all of a sudden, nothing else matters except for him. You drown out the sounds of the fans, the sounds of the cameras and take his hand, slowly stepping out of the car. Hugh leans in and kisses your temple as he keeps a strong arm around your waist, leading you towards the red carpet.

You look around and lean into Hugh, following his lead. You’re beginning to feel overwhelmed, hearing people call Hugh’s name followed by your own. You glance over at Hugh, amazed at how easy it is for him to slip into a persona that the media and his fans know, but when he gazes down at you, he smiles and it feels like it’s just the two of you. It’s a glimpse of the man that you’ve gotten the chance to know on a much more personal level, the man that you had fallen in love with, the man that only you get a chance to see.

“You doing okay?” Hugh whispers, keeping his eyes focused on you despite the repeated calls of his name.

“I’m with you,” you answer. “I’m doing great.”

Hugh smiles, leaning down to peck your lips lightly. The fans cheer even louder and the cameramen become even more crazed at the sight and you rest your hand on his chest, burying your face against the crook of his neck. “Getting all shy on me now, baby.”

“Not used to this many eyes on us,” you whisper, looking up at him.

“Well,” Hugh hums. “I’m so glad I can finally show you off to the world.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is?” you tease.

“Oh, of course. Just arm candy,” Hugh winks.

You gasp playfully and lean in once more to peck his lips. “Careful now, Hugh. Or else nothing’s gonna happen when we get back home.”

His gaze darkens momentarily, his hand itching to grasp your backside. Hugh drops his hand just to rest on your lower back, his fingertips resting at the top of your ass. “Feisty,” he chuckles.

Hugh continues leading you down the red carpet and he keeps a tight hold on your waist, keeping you close to his side. He can’t even focus, his sole attention on you as you smile at the cameras and even wave to the fans. He couldn’t even believe that you didn’t envision how you fit so easily into his life in the beginning of your relationship with him. This was all Hugh could see – you. You fit so perfectly in his life, so easily…

“Oh my god, Blake!” you exclaim, pulling Hugh out of his thoughts as you release your own hold on him to walk over to the other woman. He smiles to himself, seeing both you and Blake converse with each other but he can’t help his eyes stay focused on you. It isn’t until Hugh feels Ryan’s hands on his shoulders that he pulls his attention from you to look over at the other man.

“Your girl looks gorgeous,” Ryan chuckles, standing next to Hugh.

“I gotta thank Blake for that dress she’s wearing,” Hugh smiles. “And Blake looks great too, Ryan.”

“We are just two lucky sonofabitches, huh?”

“Yeah,” Hugh nods. “I still can’t believe it,” he admits, his eyes moving back to you as you pose next to Blake. Even in the midst of this chaos – the yelling of his name, the sounds of the cameras going off, the lights from the flashes – Hugh can only see you and everything else just fades into the background.

You turn your head to the side to gaze at him, your smile broadening even further at the sight of him. Ryan looks between both you and Hugh and rolls his eyes, scoffing teasingly.

“You know, I figured the honeymoon phase would have worn off by now, but Jesus! She’s looking at you with those fuc–”

“Okay, okay,” Hugh laughs. “Let’s not finish that thought, yeah, mate?”

“Fine,” Ryan sighs dramatically. “Let’s go to our girls.”

“Yeah, let’s,” Hugh smiles, yearning to have you by his side.

—

Both you and Hugh didn’t get home until late at night, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you giggled into the crook of his neck. He had removed his suit jacket to drape around you, to keep you warm, but your hands are roaming his body.

“You’re drunk, baby,” Hugh chuckles, leading you inside of your now-shared home.

“Not drunk, tipsy.” You smile, following him up the stairs and into the bedroom. You take a seat at the edge of the bed and prop yourself on your hands, biting your lower lip as you watch Hugh remove his shoes and remove the belt from the loops of his pants.

“Come ‘ere,” you call out, shrugging off his blazer as you reach down to remove your heels.

“What d’ya want, baby?” Hugh asks, his gaze darkening as he looks at you. Once your heels are kicked off to the side, you stand up and walk over to him, his eyes raking your entire frame as his pants become increasingly tighter at the sight of you.

“Thank you for dancing with me all night,” you grin.

“I wouldn’t ever let you dance alone, baby,” Hugh smiles, his hands resting on your hips. “As long as I’m around, I’ll always be your dance partner.”

You look into his eyes and smile, leaning in to lightly peck his lips. “First we’re training partners at the gym,” you giggle. “And now we’re dancing partners.”

“Well, we make a great team, you and me.”

“Yeah?” you bite your lower lip. “I think so too.”

“I love you so much,” Hugh whispers, hands moving along your sides. “Tonight was amazing and I loved having you by my side through it all.”

You feel yourself begin to sober up at the look in his eyes, the way his voice lowers. The love you had for each other just blossomed even further since you moved in. “You made it easy,” you admit. “And your fans – they’re amazing.”

“They just see what I see,” Hugh answers. “Someone so kind, so loving,” he whispers, leaning down to gently press kisses along your neck. “And someone who makes me incredibly happy.”

Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, shutting your eyes as you tilt your head back enough to expose more of your neck for him. His soft lips brush against your skin, his light stubble tickling you as a quiet whimper escapes your lips. “Hugh…”

“Yeah, baby?” he mumbles, pulling back to look down at you.

“I need you,” you whisper. “Want you.”

Hugh nods and lifts you up into his arms, walking you back to the bed as he sets you down. He hovers above you, bunching up the ends of your dress to rest around your hips to reveal your black lacy thong. “M’right here, honey.”

He continues to push your dress further up your body until you lift it over your head and he shrugs it off to the side. Hugh pulls back to look down at you, the sight of your matching bra and panties making him even harder by the second. He reaches around you and undoes the strap of your bra, pulling it away from your body to expose your breasts to him. He lets out an involuntary groan at the sight and leans back on his knees to unbutton his black shirt, pushing it off his body.

Hugh stands up from the bed, only to undo his pants and push it down his legs with his boxer briefs. His manhood springs to attention, the head already leaking with precome. He grabs your ankle and tugs you towards the edge of the bed, hearing you let out a quiet gasp. He smiles down at you and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your thong, pulling it down your legs as you lie before completely exposed and bare.

“Been wanting you all night,” he groans, reaching down to grab a hold of his length. He tugs on it a couple of times before he steps closer to stand between your legs, seeing you prop yourself onto your elbows as your gaze moves downwards. “You were absolutely stunning tonight,” he whispers lowly, pressing his tip to your bundle of nerves and running it along the length of your sex. He feels your arousal dripping out of you, coating the head of his length.

“Hugh,” you moan, falling back onto the mattress.

Hugh smiles to himself and leans over you, free hand resting on the mattress above your head as he slowly pushes past into you. His gaze locks onto yours as he feels your walls surround each inch of his length – so warm, so wet, so tight.

You move your hands to his shoulders, gripping it tightly as the familiar stretch of his manhood overcomes your entire body. You keep your legs parted for him, feeling him push further into you inch by inch. “I love you,” you manage to moan out, his hips fully meeting yours. “Fuck.”

Hugh chuckles and moves his free hand to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb gently against your cheekbone. “I love you too, baby.” He pulls his hips back to his tip, looking down at himself and seeing the base of his length glisten with your slickness. Growling at the sight, Hugh thrusts back into you without hesitation and continues the movement slowly.

He pulls out of you slowly, standing upright as he hooks his hands underneath your legs and pulls you even closer to the edge of the bed. As he does this, his manhood slides easily into you and he grips your legs, watching your breasts begin to bounce with each push forward.

“Hugh, oh god…”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his fingertips digging into your flesh that’s sure going to leave marks later. He watches you tilt your head back, eyes falling shut as his hips begin to move faster. Hugh can feel your walls begin to tremble and tighten with each movement of his hips and the sounds of your moans mix in with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours. His eyes never leave you, mouth formed in an ‘o’ shape as you grip onto the bedsheets. “I know you’re close, baby… Come for me, honey.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him closer to you with a nudge to his lower back with your feet. You arch your back, feeling Hugh slowly begin to lose control. “Hugh!” you moan loudly, walls tightening even further around him as you arch your back off the bed.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans, his own eyes falling shut as he tilts his head back. Hugh moves one hand from your leg to rest back onto the mattress, his hips beginning to stutter as he feels his release fast approaching. He delivers one, two, three more thrusts before he slams into you, painting your walls with his come. He slows his thrusts, his entire body shuddering at the feel of your walls continuing to milk him for every last drop.

“Hugh,” you whimper, gently bringing your hands to his chiseled chest and he leans down, pressing his lips lightly to yours.

“Mmm,” he mumbles against your ips, pulling back slowly as he rests his forehead against yours. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Hugh,” you smile, pecking his lips.

“Gonna be doing that every day until I leave for this press tour,” Hugh chuckles, slowly pulling out of you with a quiet groan.

“Good.” you smile, whimpering quietly as you feel him slide out of you. “I expect nothing less.”

Hugh smiles and then looks down between your legs, biting his lower lip at the sight of his come slowly trickling out of you. “Let me clean you up, baby.” He walks into the bathroom and grabs a small towel, dampening it with water as he walks back out into the bedroom, standing between your legs once more as he wipes his come from the inside of your legs.

You bite your lower lip and prop yourself on your forearms, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I love you, Hugh.”

Hugh looks up at you, his eyes gazing into yours. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” he smiles. “I love you too, baby.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

@jules-and-gemss

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #real person fiction #rpf #real person fanfiction #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #story: training partners

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occamstfs · 2 months ago

Text

Talismen IV: Deliverer

Alex does a few deliveries before meeting Nicky for lunch. His should be familiar route launches men into new lives as slobs, handymen, hairy tops, and twinks. All the while he struggles to understand the reality before him and his own changing form and his strange position in this new world.

Yowza that’s a long one, as stated it’s kind of a bunch of mini TF’s in a longer story though! In the order presented in the description :) Also I did end up including a gender change since it seemed there was some interest! Worry not, it's all very gay haha! The final poll will go up Sunday the 22nd and run for a week this time. Had quite a bit of fun writing this one, hope you all enjoy the penultimate chapter of Talismen! -Occam

Alex had just returned from another delivery to the sweet couple of bears next door when he received a text from his friend, Nicky. [Heyoo, when are you on lunch? Si’s meeting me for coffee in a bit right next to ur place if u wanna join~] Checking the time, Alex thinks he’ll probably have one more order before getting to clock off and tells Nicky as much.

Already waiting alone in the cafe, the inadvertent magus’ eyes glimmer their unnatural red as he opts to cast a spell the old fashioned way and summon his friend by ordering some rangoons for himself. What better way to get what you want than to ask for it.

Nicky smiles as he sees Alex reply [Should be good ! Zhao’ll probably have me do one more but I’ll be quick~] Getting in line the man’s fingers flex unknowingly as he whispers under his breath and winks to no one, “Yeah yeah, you’d better dude- Speed it up for me.” rather than typing this, he sends some in-joke emoji, totally unaware of the almost imperceptible red mist that falls from his mouth and shoots through the doors of the cafe towards the nearby delivery man.

It hits him just as he enters Wok’N’Talk, he shivers as it flows into him, lightning his dark brown enough to be black eyes for but a moment as the few hairs on his arm stand on end. He pauses as the bizarre staticky, pent-up sensation fills him, though not for long as he’s just as soon assailed by the owner calling him to get back to work, “小伙子! (Xiǎohuǒzǐ/Young Man!) Alex! The phone is blowing up! Can you do one more run before lunch?”

“Just one?” Alex takes in the scene as he sees Zhao nervously gulp at the still printing orders, continuing to pile up. He well knew how the older man operates and figured implicitly offering to help more would butter him up enough to at the very least get the easiest jobs left on the table, “感谢上帝 (Gǎnxiè shàngdì/Thank god) for you Alex, there are two orders very very close- Do you think you can do them at once?” Alex nods and checks the addresses before being interrupted, “Ēn- ah! I forgot one just came in and they asked for you by name Alex-” He sheepishly looks at his young employee, “Would you mind?”

Checking it to find it’s clearly from Nicky he rolls his eyes and prepares to harangue his friend for piling more work on him. For now he simply acquiesces with a deep nod and Zhao comes over with the horde of takeout he’s to deliver. Alex tries to wave off his boss as the older man pats him on the back, “What would we do without you 小伙子- (Xiǎohuǒzǐ/Young Man-) No wonder they asked for you too eh?” Alex tilts his head as he sees a dreamy look appear in the owner’s eyes as he inhales the faintest wisp of red fog. At the same time he feels the man’s arm go limp on his back. Immediately concerned, he leans in to catch the man before he trips only to hear him whisper, “You always were one of my best boys.”

The delivery boy almost flinches back as his words are joined with loud pop music descending upon the restaurant, a stark shift from the traditional instrumentals Zhao prefers. Every inch of the place is suddenly painted in a red haze as the overhead lighting tints crimson. Alex looks up to see Zhao suddenly standing at the counter, “Mr. Zhao is- what is happening!?” He sees wrinkles disappear from his face as he removes his tie, “Why, dear Alex- What do you mean? Do you not long to be one of my 肌肉 (muscle)Jirou Heroes?” Alex backs away as he sees the man reach out and a leash appears in his hands. Smirking, the owner continues, “Tell him Xian.”

Alex didn’t see his closest friend on staff standing there before now, perhaps he wasn’t. Just as off put as the delivery man, the cook looks around, equally as uncomfortable and unsure of the surroundings as the delivery man by the door. That is, before Zhao twists his hand and the leash shoots to attach itself to Xian’s shirt collar, bending its fabric into a thick black bondage collar. The red lights flash as Alex’s friend grasps at the leash before his arms fall limp and his mouth falls agog. Fear fills the delivery man as he watches Xian swiftly contort as his leash is pulled taut.

Zhao just smirks as the once cook surges taller, sleeves immediately bursting to nothing as arms perfect for their new line of work bulge into existence. Pecs made to be oiled and abs made to be rubbed punch into existence. Each distinct muscle presses larger as Xian puts his arms behind his back, standing at attention until his boss, his owner, suggests otherwise. Alex covers his mouth in horror and grimaces as his stomach turns from seeing his friend’s body contort into a titan, into pure sex appeal. He tries to ignore the desire that fills him as he can’t help but stare at Xian. The leashed man briefly looks to Zhao for permission to speak, “Why are you scared Alex, just give in.”

His voice is stone cold and deep, raspy while betraying no emotion. Alex moves his hand to cover his eyes and bring it further away from a crotch that pulses with need. He clenches his eyes shut to hide the red light that seeps in through his fingertips as his chest tightens. Skipping breaths, he swears he feels his own chest beginning to grow just like Xian’s. “No, nono-” Alex clutches at his shirt and feels his chest burning, bulging into his hand. He struggles to tug at his shirt as his biceps press awkwardly against the new chest, making it clear that they too are thicker. Totally overwhelmed he stares at hands that contort larger, fingers stretch and palms widen. He stares at hands that are not his own and then he blinks. And all is normal.

“Yo Alex, you alright dude?” He feels the fan hanging above the door blow air against dried tears on his face. Xian calls out from the window into the kitchen, “Sure you don’t need an early lunch?” looking around he’s reminded of how short-staffed they are before continues, “I mean, no one else can do it but-” While unable to compartmentalize really, he can certainly perform normalcy enough to fool a man half a dozen yards away, “Yeah no problem dude! Just uh-” he sees a flash of Xian’s face sharpening to stone and harshness of his echoing bass, Alex’s voice cracks as he continues, “just spAced out- I’ll be back after lunch!”

Forcing a smile, he grabs the delivery bags and runs as fast as he can manage into the streets. Stumbling out of eyesight he takes deep breaths of fresh air. What kind of episode was that? Knowing where the first delivery is, he starts the trip into the apartment building next door, home of all their number one customers, and a haven of normalcy that for good reason Alex is desperately craving.

Already rationalizing whatever as his being overworked the young man doesn’t take a second to look behind as the cute neon sign Zhao has kept for years tinges red as it begins to shift from Wok’N’Talk to Jirou Heroes. Just as he saw, Xian stands behind the counter, bloating and flexing as the interior of the shop corrupts from an almost stereotypical Chinese food restaurant into this new, younger Zhao’s take on a muscle cafe.

Alex is thankfully none the wiser as he keeps his nose on the grindstone to maintain at least the illusion of someone not mid-psychotic break, as anyone who sees prescient images of the future must to survive. Riding up past happy husband Rich Adam’s apartment he squirms to try and ignore the feeling that his clothes are tighter than usual. It’s in his head, he’s just stressed. And yet, were anyone there to see him they could not help but notice as the elevator continues to climb, his sleeves grow almost snug and pecs begin to give his torso profile it has never held before. Getting a little sweaty he puffs stuffy air into his shirt and swears it’s just nerves.

Frog in his throat he clears it as the elevator finally reaches the sixth floor. DING. The guys’ll offer him some water. He pauses to judge the heft of their order, weird that they’re all here today? Game day’s usually Friday, he thought. Well, he shrugs to himself- guess they’re allowed to hang out when they’re not role playing, or whatever.

Alex sighs to himself as he makes it to their apartment door. Content to finally be back in sorts, he takes a moment to himself to ensure he’s indeed all there. Smiling wide just to feel the strain on his face, clenching his teeth to feel the pressure on his jaw. He takes a deep breath and ignores how his shirt tugs just a hair more against his stomach before knocking.

Despite himself his raps on the door are quiet, he doesn’t notice as just like from Nicky, red mist falls from his mouth and slinks under the door. The humble host of this little gathering reaches for the door knob and just before turning it he freezes. Eyes flash red as just like Xian, just like Alex, he is struck with something inevitable. It then shoves past him as soon as it enters, tendrils launching out to the other occupants, to the meek miniature painter and a pair of friends having a not-quite-lovers spat about their campaign.

But first and foremost it fills Ian who after a moment that lasts forever and never happened at all he returns to his mind, shivers and opens the door. “Heyyy Alex! Didn’t know you work Wednesdays too!” Alex sheepishly smiles, laughing and follows the man in. Despite meaning something worlds different when Zhao said it, the delivery boy was indeed popular with the Wok’s customers. Alex looks down and squints as he swears he can see, almost like string, a red trail into the apartment. The red brings images back to his mind of Xian growing out of his apron and fills him with nerves that he’s about to have another episode he tries to gulp and is reminded of his thirst. Forcing his mouth into a docile smile he doesn’t even begin to try to hide the fear in his eyes as he asks, “Hey Ian could I trouble you for a glass of water?”

The host doesn’t turn to look at Alex as he answers, his own eyes already glassy and distracted, “Yeah yeah, uhh- I’ll go grab it for ya. Think I hear a leak or somethin’ in there anyway,” Alex furrows his brow as he watches the man saunter away, his upper body dragged behind legs walking with a cocky gait that Ian would never deign to perform. Alex clutches at his chest and for the second time feeling pecs that have begun to amass once more he is filled with despair, though this time he feels he can get a jump on things. He can stop the changes. Looking back at the red chain ahead he can almost see footprints that lead toward the room where Wes, the painter, works.

He has seen what happens, he couldn’t save Xian then, but surely now. Surely he can stop anyone else from changing. Maybe you’re not supposed to go along with it, and maybe it’s already too late, but fuck man he can try and help. Propelled forward with purpose alien, Alex unknowingly stomps onward precisely where glowing red footprints lie. With each step forward his feet grow to fill them as his calves and thighs stretch larger with his all-consuming desire to get there faster. His shoes change to something bulkier, more fashionable as the soles of his feet grow wider and toes stretch longer, filling them before they simply burst larger to catch up every new step. His work pants are field to the bursting with powerful thighs now laced with veins as he wills them thicker, stronger, as he wills himself to be faster.

And then he’s there, Wes is quietly working as he often is. Though Alex often delivers the party their meals on game days, rarely is he ever alone with Wes, but the man seems a quiet sort. When the painter sees the man enter he smiles and offers a miniature to look at, “Ah! Nice to see you Alex!” The thin Wes’ eyes brighten with a smile, veiling the red behind his irises, “How’s this lil guy look?” Alex struggles to quiet his heavy breathing and temper his clear overreaction, clearly nothing is actually happening, he’s being delusional. Were he to look down at his lower body to find his pants rapidly changing texture and rising to become shorts and exposing his new beefy calves he’d surely maintain the right level of fear. Instead catching his breath he leans in close to inspect Wes’ work.

“Woah huh, yeah. That looks huh, crazy good Wes!” He can’t imagine the precision required for such deliberate brush strokes. Wes must be a man of great patience. And then he blinks and there is nothing in the man’s hand. In fact that cannot be the hand of this shy artist. Instead he’s staring at a meaty paw and punching himself for losing sight of his self-assigned mission as he sees the unreal take hold of reality once more. He hears a burp tear through the air as the man in front of him guffaws, “buUURRP- Huhhuh! Sorry bruh, didn’ mean to getcha with that one huh!” He can’t tear his eyes away as the man's arms grow thick with fat and muscle in equal part as he clumsily wipes red paint on his beyond ratty shirt.

The sleeves disappear as it morphs into a sweat and paint covered cutaway. All the while the man continues oppressively laughing. He scratches at his now exposed pits and Alex stares with fear as with each stroke his fingers drag through more, thicker, darker hair. Apathetic as he simultaneously mars his sticky pits with paint and coats his ungainly fingers with a musk that now seeps through the air. His legs similarly burst free from their confines as they are covered with thick curls from his newly bulging package to his lengthening hairy toes. Wes goes to grab his paint cup and raises it to drink. Alex doesn’t even have a chance to react as it shifts into a beer can.

The paint covered slob downs whatever swill left in the can in one gulp before clumsily crushing it against his bulky thigh and tossing it to the floor, “What’s wrong fucker, look like ya’ve seen a ghost huhuh! Oh waiiit shit you got our food, ya?” Again Alex doesn't speak up or even move as the barrel chested man barrels past him to get to the Chinese food left in a heap by the entrance. Wes’ meaty hand forced on Alex’s chest leaves a sickly red stain, launching his top to begin its change from a plain uniform to more of a slutty crop top, one perfect to display Alex’s new meatier arms as they hang lower from shoulders that widen with every heaving breath. Seeing the man leave he is filled with an urgency to move himself, he needs to get out of here.

He needs to- his eyes flash from the door to Wes tearing through the delivered takeout, to the red trail bleeding towards the living room, before finally landing on the kitchen. His throat burns yet again, what a thoroughly unimportant need, but one that nonetheless must be sated. Despite the world around him, poor Alex simply needs a drink.

Unfortunately for the struggling delivery man, upon entering the kitchen he only finds more otherworldly horror. Alex is promptly torn between instincts of flight and fight as what he sees fills him with fear. Thoroughly stuck, he sees a massive man struggling to free himself from underneath the kitchen sink. Despite knowing this cannot be the case, when he stares at the cut abdomen of this figure wrenching away at a pipe he simply knows it to be Ian. Alex tries to jam his eyes shut and picture the friendly man who greeted him upon his entry.

Unfortunately, as soon as he does so the only thing his psyche can do is imagine the piecemeal conversion of his acquaintance into the pornstar posing as a handyman before him. He sees the smiling eyes of Ian go vacant as a dull, horny hunger fills him. Sifting through a lifetime lived, he sees the man pretend to stretch and reveal the lowest row of abs that now punch out of his stomach. Thick hands reaching out to massage shoulders as every soul he stands in front of seems to him nothing more than the chance for some release. In the most immediate moments of Ian’s new life, Alex sees the brute grow frustrated with adjusting his constantly throbbing package through his pants before simply tearing them off as if they were nothing.

The delivery man is then pulled back to the now. Frozen watching the man before him, grease covered forearms barely visible beside a sweat covered meaty chest. His deep, dumb voice echoing out from the cupboard, “Yeah you shoulda called me out here weeks ago dude- Gonna have to be coming out, like, uhhh, every day next week probably.” Alex fails to gulp again as he can almost hear the wanting smirk on Ian’s face in that dark crawlspace. Seeing a cup of water Ian must’ve laid out for him in his last moments of lucidity, Alex quickly downs it before responding, “Uhm, Ia-” he clears his throat as it remains itchy, only for it to resound deeper, “Ian, you- this is your apartment.”

The handyman apparent struggles to remove himself from under the counter, flexing performatively and humping the air as he ambles, bumping his head a good few times before his escape. Each time a throatier grunt ushers forth as his arms tangle and his shoulders grow unfortunately larger, almost wedging him intractably. Alex bites his lip as he is struck with an urge to help only waylaid by the concern that were he to get closer he’d accelerate the kitchen captive’s changes, or worse yet, spread them to himself. Inching closer he discovers it’s quite the former as with each sparing movement closer towards Ian, hair begins to cover him just as it did to the now-slovenly Wes.

Pubes thicken and race up his waist as a jungle of hair grows thicker underneath arms that seem to be in a state of perpetual flexing. Acne and curls dance across his meaty chest as he finally disengages from the kitchen sink. Head now in the free air Alex watches as a mustache bursts from his upper lip. The man Ian has become dully looks around the kitchen and laughs as he indeed recognizes it as his own. Alex struggles to look away from the cock that now bobs free in the open air, having finally burst free from the strained compression shorts. Watching as the man scratches his stubbly chin with his pipe grease-covered hand as he struggles to produce some wanton thought, Alex wonders what he’s even doing here.

Where once nothing but horror filled the delivery man’s mind upon seeing such transformation, now he is struck with the absurdity of the situation. Watching two friendly, thoughtful men morph into slobs beyond imagination Alex can’t help but wonder why. When Wes enters the kitchen using his paint covered mitts to fist loose fried rice into his mouth, spilling it all over the floor, Alex decides to simply wash his hands of whatever this bizarre situation is. He hears the two dullards talk in their fried voices, “duuude put some pants on we’ve got company-” “Ah it’s just Alex sure he doesn’t mind seeing my balls huhuh!”

On the way out he passes a hall mirror and for the first time sees what the workings of this impossible realm have done to him. He can’t help but grin as he sees the heavy arms now totally exposed. His thick but still soft hands trace his thin waist and play with the few hairs that make up a treasure trail. His skin burns with sensitivity as his fingers leave an unmistakable red trace as they dance on his tight stomach. He fights the urge to continue upward towards a chest that hangs clearly in between his new pistons though stays strong, in a way, and starts for the door. He has still kept his mind and surely when he leaves all will be normal. This isn’t happening and he’s not about to grope himself in a customer’s apartment.

And yet, when he hears the sounds coming from Ian’s small den he can’t help but take a look. He remembers Wes mentioning the pair had been arguing over the direction of the campaign but clearly Tyler and Chuck have worked out their differences, as it were. Alex rolls his eyes at his presumably repressed psyche having lost the plot of whatever episode this is as he sees the once dungeon master lean in to aggressively make out with the player who had long been yearning for some romance in their sessions.

Alex can’t help but allow his hands to inch towards his own wanting crotch as he stands to watch. His eyes flash red as he sees the room as it was when he entered the apartment. The argument in the living room abruptly ending as the men are struck with swaths of red mist flown in from under the doorway, light from the afternoon deepens and shifts to stage lighting as if the den was only a set. Chuck jokes about more sensual and sex-themed RPGs as he puts his arms behind his head, ignoring as his hairline rapidly disappears and sweat stains appear in his pits. Tyler licks his lips as the small crystal on a string he never leaves home without quickly thickens and grows heavy as the crystal itself shifts into a lock he hasn’t the key for.

Both men shift awkwardly as they are immediately struggling against a primal hunger that rolling dice could never satiate. They pull at their clothes soaking heavy with sweat and oil, Ty’s hair shortens into something barely longer than the new hair that begins to pattern his chest. The player gasps as his master’s new beard scratches against his own rough cheeks, when his head is forced down to the man's pillow chest he is torn between desires to lick and lavish or to bite and tear. The pair then fall onto the stained couch as Alex simply continues to watch. Unable to look away, unable to remove his own sweaty palm from a crotch that begins to strain against his shorts. From afar Alex begins to understand his place.

When his fingers catch in newly thick pubes he suddenly comes to his senses and falls away from the men moaning as they struggle to strip from clothes that are almost tight enough to act as bondage for the fucking pair. Alex stumbles backwards, grabbing the remaining orders he has left to deliver with the hand he didn’t begin to publicly masturbate with and sprints from this true hellhole of an apartment, hoping more than anything that just like at Zhao’s it was all in his head. Just an imagination that has suddenly become overactive and obsessed with transformation. He’d heard of the fetish at least, stranger things have happened, probably?

Free at last from the slobs and exhibitionists that clinging to hope are actually just friends chatting over takeout once more, Alex contemplates just turning himself in for his own safety. Surely he’s not expected to just continue doing his job in the middle of what can only be a psychotic break. At the same time, what if he is indeed some courier of change. What if he is the one doing this somehow.

Looking down he sees himself at the very least wearing suitable clothes once more, tracing up his shirt once more however he finds that his form has not been spared. His skin is warm to the touch and the muscle beneath is tight, powerful. He feels thicker hair trailing up from his pubes up decorating abs that he never spent a second working for. A chest that would require him to simply live a different life to earn.

Eyes on the ground he sees shoes a few sizes wider and pants catching on his thick thighs and powerful calves. So too does he see a path forward, laid out, inevitable. At once he understands that he is not truly acting, he is but a messenger, a deliverer, a shepard. What is happening is happening and he must be there to see it through. He is a psychopomp of the changing world and avoiding it, if that’s even an option, can only bring ill. Coming to terms with what he has seen and will see, for the first time he allows himself to grapple with the powerful, primal fulfillment that witnessing these transformations has brought him. Pleasure beyond what he thought was possible. It is no wonder the men did not fret as they were molded into their new forms, it felt, good.

When he remembers the final delivery of the day his curiosity is piqued, another couple. Jen and Rob. Through and through gay he wonders what the next situation has in store as he begins to walk down the long hallway, his footsteps silent leave a trail behind. While in Ian’s apartment he was following a path laid out for him, now that he has embraced the reality of this unreality, now that his will has aligned to get this over with, quickly, he holds the power within himself. Just as Nicky does, just as Timothy did. He steps forward precisely where his feet are supposed to land.

Before he knows it, as if he’s willed it closer, Alex stands outside the apartment. All the while he has continued to grow. His pecs inflate and traps swell and while his tee has expanded a few x’s larger to hide his bloating figure. His pants, having torn a few times over, have given up the ghost to become compression shorts that allow thighs thicker than his head and calves that could kill to remain on permanent display. Feeling his biceps strain against the sleeves of this pump cover that should be too large for any man, he toys with the idea of simply removing it.

Before knocking on the door he smirks as his mind flashes to the shitty man that lies inside, Rob won’t know what to do with himself when he sees the little prudish delivery boy has ballooned into something better than man. Feeling his package strain against his shorts as his thighs flex from the simplest movement, Alex prepares for the first time with intention, though not volition, begin a scene of transformation. He prepares to usher the couple into their new selves, his mind can’t help but skip forward and imagine some twinkish Rob being dominated. “Spoilers,” he whispers to himself grimly as he approaches the door, it opens without him even needing to beckon and he walks in with the couple’s lunch.

“Alex!” Jen cheers, her eyes alight with forced delight as she has clearly been in argument with her fiance, as he often finds them. She stands hands on the counter and her ever-frustrating partner sits on the couch playing Elden Ring, she motions for the delivery man to come in and finally her eyes land on the man who now stands a few heads taller than her. “Wha-,” her eyes flash red as her desires are more than clear to Alex, I want to be the man in the relationship. He doesn’t care all that much to explore the gender dynamics, nor does whatever power that moves through him as he sees the woman gasp and shiver as it becomes clear that she is a woman no longer. On the couch Rob complains.

“Babe what the fuck? Are you flirting with that little bitch to get a rise out of me?” At last Rob turns to inspect the pair standing in the doorway as he sees his fiancee rapidly bursting free from the tight top he whined at her, them, this morning to wear. Jen’s chest pulls inward as their upper body grows with strength they have always been discouraged to pursue, but never stopped hungering for. Hair prickles their chest as a sculpted patch bursts forth between heavy pecs and around nipples that have thankfully not decreased in size.

Below the belt it becomes clear that their, his, masculinity is not in question as Jen in the minds of every person present irrevocably becomes Jake. His hips jut forward against the kitchen counter as permanently shaved pubes race up to meet the garden of chest hair, and down to cover burgeoning balls that begin to fill his bloodstream with enough testosterone to make up for decades of hormonal imbalance. Hair growth is of course centered around a cock that would put any man to shame, the same could be said for Jake’s mind as he almost drools looking down at his new rod.

Stick thin arms become biceps that hide pits almost steaming with b.o. that a life ago she mocked Rob for having, now he simply delights in the new way to exercise his masculinity, his undeniable virility unto the world around him. Groping at his crotch Jake lets loose a deep moan as a new adams apple bulges out of a neck framed by traps still continuing to grow. Veins carrying changes through his growing form tinge red with every beat of his racing heart as for the first time pre drips from his new cock.

On the coach Rob struggles to rise as he sees his boyf- no not his, fiance? No. His eyes widen and he puffs up his chest as he struggles not to meet this obstacle like every one he has faced before now, brute force and a dim witted mind. Alex tilts his head and frowns before raising his hand and faster than anyone could possibly observe a red tendril shoots out, through Jake and into Rob, I want to be the man.

The man who has always been a man falls back and begins to writhe. Muscles barely honed begin to atrophy as the workings of the world fulfill Jake’s desires in the only way they care to. Rob’s stubbled chin begins to grow smooth and hairless as he begins his transformation into Jake’s trophy twink. His sweaty hands, sculpted to a playstation controller claw at the back of the couch as he struggles to climb up and see what is happening to Je-Jake. Fingers thin and nails shine with polish and attention. He feels his stomach contract as he gasps in desire as his, lover, has only continued to grow.

While his own chest and torso begin to suck in and smooth over, Jake’s has only continued to expand and amass power. Hair begins to pour from every pore on the new man as he bloats larger. Jake’s legs burn with power as his figure converts child bearing hips into dense powerful thighs and a waist that will allow him to keep his slutty twink bouncing for hours in bed. Meanwhile Robbie’s does precisely the opposite, waist thinning out to be easily grabbed and manhandled by his tank. Standing next Alex the man almost goes feral with the need to mount his mate as his rough hands clench the counter with a fury.

The already sparse hair on Robbie’s form sloughs off as Jake aggressively scratches at dense hair growing thicker in his pits before shifting to claw at his stubble as it becomes a thick messy beard on his face. Drool drips from his mouth as he groans with a voice that grows decibels deeper with each haphazard breath, Jake glowers at the feminine figure biting his lip as it bloats larger, moaning and posing on the couch as his hair lengthens and curls. It’s all Jake can do to avoid climbing like an animal over their kitchen island to pounce on the twink languishing on the couch, his skin softening and growing more supple by the second.

Alex watches disinterested as Rob grows thin, docile, hungry for pleasure that only Jake will be able to offer. He sees Jake become the man he always yearned to be, the man he was always going to be. In his mind's eye he sees the scene that will happen as soon as he leaves, as soon as he allows it. Furniture broken, not for the first time, as the pair fuck as if there was nothing else in the world but sexual fulfillment, perhaps there is nothing else in the world. Alex ponders the paths that the world may go down if this is to be the case, he searches for futures that don’t go down this route and struggles to find one.

Hearing Jake chomping at the bit, struggling with the urges of a new powerful pair of blue balls, and seeing Robbie’s mouth reflexively hang open with lustful abandon he understands that his work here is done. He nods at the new beast and Jake as he has always wanted jumps his fiance. Robbie is all too happy to be put in his place by a man who is more than he ever could be. Alex watches for a moment but despite his embrace, if not understanding, of his role in this tapestry, he knows he has work yet to do as his own form begins to ephemerally change.

He turns to leave and shuts the door behind him, barely dulling the sound of shattering glasses and fervent moans behind him. Down the hall he hears the festivities he set forth earlier have not stopped, in fact it sounds as if the neighbors to the apartment have joined in on the fun. Alex is sullen as he looks down the hallway, seeing tendrils launching forth from his footprints into each and every apartment passed. Masculine moans abound, deepening in some and rising higher in others. Flashes of cowboys getting creative with lasso, smoke seeping under door frames as once powerful executives try to hotbox their suite, pajamas shifting into uniforms before being removed with haste. Men fighting against their own changing lusts and bodies, and others who are more than happy to give into them. And Alex can do nothing but deliver, accelerate, and watch.

Something of a unique figure in this situation thanks to Nicky, Alex maintains his wits despite his urges to join in on the ‘fun’. Work yet to do, he flexes to simply use some of the energy building within him and his form graciously expands once more. His shorts turn to briefs which leave little at all to the imagination. Sighing, the melancholy psychopomp is nevertheless pleased with what an impressive figure he has become. Holding one final delivery in hand he sets off to the place he has all along said he would. Holding but a small package of rangoons with Nicky’s name on the receipt he takes the elevator down to the ground floor.

Alex pointedly doesn’t look towards Jirou Heroes as he exits onto the street, bestowed with whatever power Nicky unwittingly did, he is well aware of what he would see if he were to look anyway. With the solemnity of the reaper which he is, Alex walks into the cafe to see Simon has arrived ahead and broken the news less than gracefully. His beefy arms are around the catatonic haphazard spellcaster as Simon, kind but incable, tries to make right the impossible. Explain the incoherent, make Nicky aware of what is going on so they may work all of it out together. Alex purses his lips and hesitates before smiling morosely at his friend and offers forth the smallest bit of levity, “Rangoons for Nicky?”

To say his eyes fall is not accurate, his hands cover his mouth as he sees the direct handiwork of his twisted words. Where his irises should be there are only deep red pits, “This isn’t what I wanted. Why would I want any of this.” The Talisman he never truly asked for glows red enough to be seen through his shirt, Alex and Simon both see it and instantly understand that this is the true source of what happened at the gym, what is happening next door, what is happening in the cafe around them had they the bandwidth to notice.

In the eye of a hurricane of change, Simon grabs Nicky’s hand and squeezes, Alex puts his new meaty palm on his dear friend’s shoulder. Understanding there is no time to waste, Nicky bucks up and with the support of these two men he has irrevocably changed, opens his eyes and grabs at the talisman. Though not at all knowing what he should do, he knows and Alex assures him that it must be done right now. His hands tremble and his eyes tear up from the pressure, red tears dripping down his cheeks. And then he does what must be done.

Potentialities:

Ah poor poor Nicky, lotta pressure on the guy let’s see what he ends up doing! While the others have primarily been choosing between transformations these last lot are choosing the ending, all will hold transformations galore of course!

Post’ll go up on Sunday as usual but it’ll last a week as I’m probably going to take the week of Christmas off haha!

World Peace - 47.2%

Well now, is it not the real responsible thing when granted unlimited power to ensure that all problems are solved? What could go wrong when something already twisting desires and morphing every living being it can get its hands on receives explicit permission to work globally. Nothing untoward I’m sure.

Self-Sacrifice 26.7%

No time to think, alas the guilt ridden and noble Nicky says take me instead. Instantly we return to the mystical non-place where this all started. After a bit of chat, gambling, and discussion of what a big ask it is to not only end but undo the changes. The man who gave him the power to change it all decides what, or whom, his sacrifice is worth.

Pass the Buck 26.1%

Alex and Simon are here aren’t they? Surely a man already morosely writing off the world and another whose mind has been described as ‘gears barely turning’ a half-dozen times can figure something out.

#male tf #mental change #male transformation #muscle tf #hair growth #dumber #reality change #masculinization #musk tf #jockification #straight to gay #twinkification #himbofication #gender transformation #talismen #personality change #corruption #beard growth #gay transformation

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brbiekiss · 29 days ago

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⋆. 𐙚 ˚ heartbreak summer ft, sae itoshi

currently playing ♪ playlist — heartbreak summer ♪

pairing. sae itoshi x f!reader

summary. after your friend finds out her recent ex has been in the news tabloids with yet another girl, your idea of get back turns your entire night into an unfortunate series of events with the final outcome landing you directly in front of re al’s star football player, and you’re about to kiss him.

warnings. smut, swearing, toxic relationships & behaviour (not too much from sae surprisingly), angst

୨୧. chapter ten, double dates & birthdays

8:23 pm

you had been out for around an hour or so, currently in the restaurant bathroom touching up your makeup with kaia before heading out to the bar to have drinks.

“you and oliver look like you’ve really made up.”, you say, applying your lipgloss while looking in the mirror.

“yeah, honestly i forgot how well we clicked and he hasn’t fucked up so far. i kinda have a feeling he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend again.”, she smiles to herself, watching you put your lipgloss on.

“what about when we go back to la?”, you ask, turning to look at her.

“god, i haven’t even thought that far yet. maybe the long distance could work this time? i don’t know.”, she sighs, “i’m just enjoying my time with him right now, y’know?”

“anyway, enough about me. how about you and sae?”, she asks, tilting her head.

“okay. i don’t know if i’m just reading too much into it, but i feel like the energy between us has been like, slightly awkward.”, you sigh.

“if i’m honest, y/n, do you really want to be dealing with this when it’s so early on. like, yeah, you guys like each other, but you haven’t spoken much about you two. it’s been like what? two weeks? and you’ve only hung out like 3 times just the two of you.”

you sigh again, “i know. i don’t even know what’s going on really, and you know how i feel about situationships.”, you pause, “i’ll just see how the night goes, one step at a time or whatever.”

she nods, “i feel like recently all we’ve been talking about is boys.”, kaia laughs.

“no honestly, you just know natalia is getting sick of us.”, you half joke.

as kaia was about to reply, a knock on the girls bathroom is heard, “hello? what are you two doing in there it’s been like 20 minutes. are we going or not?”

kaia rolls her eyes at oliver’s voice, making you laugh, “yes, we are.”

11:02 pm

the night at the bar was more chill than you expected it to be, less people than you imagined were there so it was more of a casual night much to kaia’s dismay. oliver and sae weren’t too bothered by it either, opting for a couple beers than in a sweaty night club.

you was currently heading back from the bar, oliver driving as usual with kaia in the front.

“do you wanna come to mine?”, sae asks, his voice a little quiet, not wanting kaia or oliver to stick their noses in.

“uh, sure. is that okay with you?”

he frowns slightly, “well i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t want you to.”

“yeah i know, just cause of last time i mean.”

he rolls his eyes at the thought, “i’m not gonna do that if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i’m not worried.”, you shake your head, “i want to come.”

he nods, giving you a straight smile.

eventually, oliver takes you and sae back to his apartment with small chatter in the car, “alright, we’re here.”, he says, turning to look at you both in the back.

“alright, thanks bro.”, sae says, stepping out the car alongside you.

“byeeee.”, kaia sings out, waving her hand at you through the car window, with yourself waving back as sae puts a hand on the back of your waist, leading you up to his apartment.

he takes his keys out his pocket, putting it through they keyhole and opening the door, “well, make yourself home.”, he says while a cloud of deja vu hits you.

navigation. heartbreak summer

next chapter. eleven

author’s note. waaayyy more writing this chapter and the next one will only be writing!! i know some people have been having issues with the links but they should be fixed now!! also smut next chapter 🫣

taglist. @vaelils @shironagi @megumiivs @captainshindo @evry1luvssm @alatusorrow @pookalicious-hq @tnt-kokoo @misosoupii @whisperofae @bontensbabygirl @s4-mmy @viviinpt @werfiedeii @dinnersyummy @nuhahani @treeguzzler @pctterheadd @taefanclub @literallyushiwaka @yiiscorner @suksatoru @treeguzzler @manjiroswifo @sugacor3 @kaz-0e

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tojiscrack · 4 months ago

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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃

summary: 7k words — while you’re struggling with the difficult pre-calculus questions, megumi ends up finding out information he wasn’t actively searching for.

notes: woah, sumaya released a chapter a week after the last one and not months later? 😱 what caused this? 🫣 @reinaswrld (aka my wife) got a promotion at her job! 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN!!! this chapter is dedicated to you and your success, well done <33 ik it’s not much — one of the shortest chapters so far in the story — but it’s building up a bit of plot, i hope you still enjoy it all the same ❤️‼️

tw: a lot of swearing from a very angry man (you’ll see), gossiping, that’s it tbh :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n, her parents, and other oc’s mentioned in the story. the rest belong to gege akutami.

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom was organised with a focused, minimalist setup, with rows of sturdy tables that filled most of the space, each paired with two hard-backed chairs that left barely enough room for you to move around without bumping into someone else's desk. you stared up at the whiteboard which took up much of the wall, its surface freshly wiped but faintly marked with smudges from the writing by your favourite teacher in the world — kento nanami — who had made you sit at the front for the sole purpose of doing a one-to-one session on the easier questions that you still somehow struggled with.

a projector hung from the ceiling above, casting crisp, blue-tinted notes and problem sets onto the board. his desk was positioned directly beside the whiteboard, immaculately organised, with a stack of ungraded worksheets, a coffee cup, and a single pen resting beside his computer. you thought satoru could use some tips on how to keep his work space as clean as kento's; you knew he wouldn't listen.

around the room, colourful display boards brightened up the neutral walls, each one crowded with pre-calc formulas, visual aids, and student projects — some crumpled from years of use, others meticulously laminated. none of them were of use to you, not when you found yourself stuck on something as simple as functions and transformations.

"try again," kento — or mr nanami, as he constantly demanded you refer to him as — patiently guided you, sliding a fresh worksheet with extra space for you to do your working out on. the previous one you'd been given had been a complete mess of scribbles, doodles, and working out that made no sense whatsoever.

you spun the pencil through your fingers in a dramatic manner, eyes squinted as you addressed the complicated questions on the sheet.

and gave up the second you saw the graphs.

"i'm failing this class," you decided with a sigh.

kento — mr nanami — shook his head at you, his lips in a straight line as he tapped the sheet.

"you haven't even given it a go," he stated sternly, his cheeks hollowing as he stared down at you. "remember what we went through."

"i already forgot," you admitted, abashed.

kento nanami's gaze was a perfect balance of sternness and patience as he looked down at you, his expression unwavering; his eyes were sharp, fixed intently on you with a hint of exasperation glinting beneath his otherwise calm exterior. it did not look as though he was going to let you give up that easily, no matter how deep your sighs of defeat ran. he tapped the sheet again, and despite it sounding like a couple knocks on the table, it really was a beat that spoke in strong tunes, one that said you're going to try again, whether you like it or not,

so you picked up your pencil, frowning at the size of the eraser attached to its rear end (knowing all too well that it was not going to be enough to keep your paper from becoming a mess of lead by the end of the lesson) and got to work, reading the question, and then re-reading it, trying your hardest to understand it down to a t.

kento had left you to tackle the problems alone as he moved across the room, pausing by other students' desks to offer guidance.

...and then returned to find that your paper was now full of doodles and scribbles. he furrowed his brows and let out a sigh, rubbing his straight brows from where they began, to where they angled downwards, the lines on his forehead more prominent as he tensed.

"i tried," you said, looking sullen.

"i can see that," he replied, and it wasn't just the mess of lead he was talking about; he could see the parts of the paper where you had made an attempt at answering the question, only to give up and then fail miserably.

he leaned against his own desk, peering down at you through his circular glasses. they looked odd to you, specifically the way they stuck onto the skin around his eyes like that. it was almost as peculiar as that weird, spotted tie he always wore.

"how often do you study at home?" he asked you, and the tone of his voice, serious, made you suck in your stomach, an unsettling feeling resting in your tummy.

"every friday," you lied. it wasn't as though he'd know you didn't.

only, he somehow had.

"i know you and your family spend fridays at gojo's," he told you, his brows furrowed.

you paused.

thought of your answer.

and then reconsidered it just in case there were any loopholes he could find.

"yeah," you agreed, nodding, "but i study there too. before dinner."

"no she doesn't."

megumi had approached kento with his notebook and worksheet in hand, his handwriting neat, each letter and number placed with a precision that seemed almost methodical.

you scowled at him as he looked straight at your teacher, barely even regarding you with a simple glance, apparently unbothered by your reaction.

"can you grade my questions?" he asked, only looking down and meeting your gaze with a glare when you kicked him from where you sat.

"you're being rude," you snapped, watching him shake the foot you had kicked.

he looked down at his foot, then at you, then back at his foot, as kento took the notebook out of his hands. "you literally just kicked me," he stated with a deep lour.

"yeah, 'cause you interrupted me when i was talking to kento," you shot back, brows furrowed.

"you mean when you were lying to him," megumi corrected you, an accusatory brow raised.

your cheeks warmed as you averted your gaze, barely managing to suppress a scowl. you crossed your arms, focusing on the scribbled doodles and half-erased notes on your worksheet, ignoring megumi's pointed look as you tapped your pencil against the paper in a futile attempt to appear unaffected, but the stubborn heat on your face betrayed your feigned composure.

"check that last question," said kento, handing megumi his notebook back and pointing at something on his page with the end of his red pen. "otherwise, well done megumi."

megumi nodded, muttering a quiet thanks before sitting back in his seat that was somewhere behind you; you didn't bother checking where after his attitude.

"you," kento began, brows furrowed at you, "need a tutor."

you would have beamed at the idea, if not for already being in a particularly sour mood after megumi's comment. still, you vouched for yourself, even though it meant pushing aside your stubborn pride.

"megumi, he said you have to tutor me," you said, turning around to speak to him — he had been sitting on a table with yuji on his left and nobara on his right. you found yourself seething with envy that you were so unbelievably terrible at math, your friends got to squish themselves on a table for two without you.

"i didn't say that," kento added dismissively. "i said you needed a tutor, not that it'd be megumi."

at that, the both of you peered back up at him, dumbfounded.

"i've done it before," your friend informed your teacher, his brows raised expectantly. "she takes forever, but —"

you narrowed your eyes at him. "was that really necessary?"

kento shook his head regardless.

you frowned, looking back at megumi, and you could have sworn you'd seen his shoulders deflate slightly too, but your teacher remained firm, regarding you with tight lips and furrowed brows.

"you get distracted very easily," he told you, his hands resting in the pockets of his formal pants. he nodded in the direction of where your friends were sitting without you. "specifically with megumi."

"megumi and i work very well together, actually," you corrected, unaware of yuji shaking his head in disagreement behind you. he'd stopped when you turned to see where kento's eyes had slowly drifted, suspicious. "even though he's really rude when he teaches me —"

"— i'm not rude —"

"— and super judgemental when i get something wrong," you continued over him; he was most likely glaring at the back of your head, you didn't need to see him to know that, "i still learn a lot."

"while that might be true, something always happens to go wrong when the two of you work together," said kento, and even though he was gentle with his approach on this topic, it still felt like a harsh kick to the stomach. "you aren't sensible."

"i'm sensible," megumi openly disagreed.

you did not appreciate his obvious jab at you. "wha— so am i!"

and to your dismay, yuji had intervened. "no you're not!" he jumped in, expression fierce as he pointed at you accusingly. "you told mr haibara my art work was made out of a toilet accident!"

"well it looked like a toilet accident," you shot back, your face relaxed, eyes half-lidded.

"he asked for her opinion," said nobara — your sweet nobara — coming to your defence without a second thought. she leaned over megumi to speak to yuji directly. "what did you expect her to do, ignore him?"

"if she's capable of saying my art piece looks like a pile of shit smeared on some paper, she's capable of ignoring someone!"

it was kento's slight groan that had the four of you looking up at him, and when you did, you'd been met with the sight of him pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses lifted by his fingers as he let out an exasperated sigh. kento did not enjoy it when the four of you would argue: he said it distracted the class despite your peers having discussions, jokes, and even arguments amongst themselves, unaware of the little spats you'd have with each other.

"enough," he voiced coolly, before regarding both you and megumi with a look of finality. "you have proven my exact point."

"i wasn't even—" megumi began, but you cut through him straight away. it wasn't like he was going to vouch for anyone but himself anyway, the selfish bastard.

"we're not like this at home," you argued passionately, brows raised in a desperate attempt to get kento to consider your situation, even if it meant dealing with a very judgemental megumi, who was never gentle when teaching you.

it seemed that your statement had only strengthened kento's decision to assign you a tutor who wasn't megumi, for his brows had drawn into a firm line, his gaze much harsher as he stared you with what seemed like a mix of finality and resolve.

"i saw the two of you at gojo's birthday last year," he'd said calmly. "the piñata was meant for him, not you."

ah.

kento was talking about the incident where you had 'hijacked' (as satoru had eloquently put it) his birthday piñata. you scoffed — he lived to tell the tale, with that goofy look on his face that was apparently meant to make you sympathise with him, but lived nonetheless.

it wasn't as though anybody was harmed in the process.

kento adjusted his glasses and regarded you with narrowed eyes. "it was also meant to be beaten open with a weapon, y/n. not megumi's head."

"arguably, his crazy hair is a danger to us all, and therefore a weapon of mass destruction," you stated, and found yourself internally pleased when you heard both yuji's and nobara's quiet snickering. "the piñata would agree."

you heard yuji and nobara's chuckles sputter into startled groans, abruptly cut off by a telltale thunk that had megumi written all over it. you couldn't help a sly chuckle as you glanced their way, where the pair nursed their sore heads with matching looks of betrayal, nobara muttering something that sounded a lot like a threat on megumi's life.

he, of course, remained unfazed, still glaring at you, looking about as done as kento had seemed, and sensing his icy gaze narrow further, you quickly schooled your face into a mask of innocent defiance.

"i'm not tutoring you," megumi replied bluntly, and you barely had the time to process that and groan before kento had intervened again.

"that settles it," he said, no longer leaning on his desk and now holding a finger up in a silent motion of 'no more' when your lips had parted to speak. "i will search for someone who i think will be best to tutor you —"

"but megumi —"

"— and is willing to do so too," he said, before picking up a folder, searching through it, and handing you a new worksheet with a different set of questions. "have a go at these before i come back, y/n."

he had left to go and approach other students, moving briskly towards those with raised hands, leaving you with only the fresh worksheet in your own hand, and a sigh caught somewhere between your frustration and reluctant determination.

you only hoped your tutor would be someone you could get along with.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

yuji and megumi walked side by side down the bustling hallway, their steps quick as they wove through clusters of students lingering between classes.

yuji had animatedly recounted an outrageous tale about how choso and todo had finally met, and how it had gone terribly wrong in only a matter of seconds. megumi was silent throughout the story, his mind wandering elsewhere, but he still managed to pay attention and had got the general gist of the story. in fact, megumi was certain that he could summarise it all in one simple sentence, something that yuji had failed to do: yuji's brothers did not like each other and were essentially fighting over him.

yuji squinted his eyes as sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, casting warm beams across their path as they neared the business classroom. megumi raised his arm to shield himself, blinking off the colourful spots in his vision.

"when did all that happen?" he asked, a crease between his brows from the frown he'd been holding up.

"after practice last week tuesday," said yuji, casually, "when i tried catching the early bus, remember?"

"i thought you got the early bus," megumi replied, the two of them taking a right where they'd find their classroom. they'd been stalling for a bit, walking round in circles in different areas of the school, but it was nearly time before the bell rang.

yuji nodded. "i did, but todo insisted on dropping me off. i said no, but — you know him, he doesn't take no for an answer."

megumi knew that quite well. when he first met todo and he'd demanded megumi to tell him his type, no matter how many times he'd refused to, todo remained persistent.

it was annoying.

"and then they met — and then everything was just —"

when the pink-haired boy had stopped speaking so abruptly, megumi glanced over at him.

yuji's gaze drifted into the distance, his eyes widening slightly as he seemed to lose track of his story mid-sentence. megumi furrowed his brows at him, watching his mouth hang open for a beat, the usual spark in his expression dimming as he focused intently on something across the hall. slightly confused, megumi turned to follow yuji's line of sight, the silence between them suddenly weighted, and megumi could only lour at what he'd seen.

"hey," yuji began, voice distant, "isn't that tsumiki?"

across the hallway, kamo stood beside tsumiki, his posture formal yet oddly relaxed, hands resting in his pockets with a quiet attentiveness. tsumiki, in turn, seemed engaged, her expression open and bright, using light hand gestures and motions that she usually did when explaining something.

megumi had seen the same thing in different areas of the school: during study hall, he'd seen tsumiki wave kamo goodbye, just before lunch had ended, he'd seen kamo walking her to her english class, and for the nth time that day, he was watching them interact, watching as tsumiki listened attentively, nodding along with something he was saying.

what the hell was going on? since when did kamo and tsumiki talking to each other become so frequent? was that ever a thing to begin with? megumi couldn't comprehend any of what he was seeing.

but he couldn't blame himself for his lack of understanding here, for everything that had happened in the past week regarding kamo had been odd, especially since that conversation his teammates had had in the locker rooms before practice.

and with a more relaxed, loose expression, megumi realised what that meant; how had this not been the first thought in his mind?

tsumiki was someone that both megumi and yuji knew pretty well. he'd completely ruled out the possibility that kamo would find interest in someone older despite majority of his teammates doing exactly that — they liked older girls.

he just did not believe that any one of them would be interested in his sister.

"yeah," megumi nodded, biting his inner cheek to avoid the natural scowl that he knew was trying to make an appearance. "it is."

"why's she talking to —"

"i don't know," said megumi, now wanting more than ever to enter class early, if only to get rid of the disgusting sight before him. he wished he could also say that he did not care, but he was curious, and he wanted to know what was actually happening between them. "let's go."

"oh, she saw us!" said yuji, raising a hand to wave. "she's saying hi!"

megumi didn't look to see whether this was true or not, but he didn't doubt it, only choosing to ignore his sister entirely and go to his class, half annoyed when he realised that kamo would follow behind him soon since they shared the same one.

"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" yuji repeated, sounding taken aback by megumi and his cold response of ignoring her entirely.

megumi stepped into the classroom, his expression tight and shoulders tense as he made his way towards his usual seat at the back. the lively hum of conversation around him felt distant, each sound fading as he focused on shaking off the odd irritation from the hallway, and not even a moment later, yuji had trailed behind him, loudly questioning why megumi was ignoring tsumiki, his voice ringing through the quiet room. his obliviousness hung in the air, adding to megumi's quiet frustration as he sank into his seat, mentally urging his friend to just sit down and stop broadcasting his every thought.

to his dismay, yuji did not stop, not even when kamo had entered the room, walking over to his seat parallel to the two.

the rest of the class went by as usual, the only difference being the constant voice at the back of megumi's mind — nagging and pressing — reminding him of what he'd seen throughout the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi stood just outside the theatre hall, his figure casting a long shadow on the tile floor as the late afternoon light filtered in through the high windows. the hallway was quiet now, only the faint sound of distant chatter echoing from a classroom down the hall, while the smell of fresh paint and worn wood from the theatre room seeped faintly into the corridor.

dressed in his football uniform, his hair still damp from practice, he idly scanned the posters pinned on the corkboard outside the door: upcoming plays, rehearsals, and auditions for the semester. there was even a picture of you from one of the plays back in sophomore year, a huge success, according to the school newsletter attached to it. he remembered that one, a re-telling of rosalind and how even through the mess your family had caused behind the scenes, you had remained professional enough to take your role as the lead and make something better of it — it was admirable, not that he'd ever tell you that.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his eyes occasionally drifting to the door as he waited, his gaze relaxed. when he heard footsteps at the other end of the corridor, light and unhurried, he turned his head, brow twitching slightly as tsumiki closed the large distance between them, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, holding a file to her chest as he swiped the damp strands of his hair away from his forehead.

she stopped just short of him, glancing down at his feet. he followed her gaze, frowning when she didn't speak.

"what?" he said, defensive.

she pointed at his socks, stained with grass. "you're gonna walk in your house with those?"

megumi shot her a look, half grimacing, half glaring. "no," he snapped, snippy. "i'm gonna take them off at the front door."

she shrugged, holding her pink folder to her chest as she leaned against the same wall he had been leaning against.

"i knew i'd find you here," she said, the fluorescent lights above softening her already-gentle features, casting a warm glow that blended with the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the nearby windows.

megumi grunted in response. it was enough to show that he acknowledged her comment. she understood that well enough.

"what do you need?" he asked her, flinching when a random cymbal crash had sounded from inside the hall. he could bet his two dogs it was because of you. "i'm not doing your stats homework again."

"no, silly," she laughed, nudging his side and relishing in the slight hiss he'd let out — yuji had tackled him hard on the field during practice, driving his weight into megumi's side and slamming him mercilessly against the grass. the impact bit deeper than he'd expected, the sharp sting lingering even an hour later. "i was gonna ask you a question."

"ok."

...

"you're not gonna ask me what it is?"

"you're the one that needs to ask the question here."

"stop acting like aunt maude, megumi," scolded tsumiki, making an attempt to pinch his side. he slapped her hand away, cross and displeased with her playful nature. "anyway," she sighed, apparently having given up on trying to tease him any further than he'd let her, "don't get mad at me when i ask this."

he looked down at her, a feeling that still felt strange. only this past summer had he finally outgrown her, and after spending most of his life looking up to meet her gaze, he still wasn't quite used to the new perspective.

he didn't like the look she was sporting. it was something in between a sensible smile and a mischievous grin.

"don't say anything to make me mad," he shot back, brows furrowed.

tsumiki held her file closer to her chest, like a mother protectively cradling her baby.

"let me say a quick prayer before i ask," she said, meeting his sharp gaze with a small frown. "what? i don't wanna get attacked when i ask."

he scowled. "i'm not gonna atta—"

but she wasn't paying attention, her eyes closed as she cupped her hands and whispered her prayers into it. megumi could have sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of 'protect me from the evil standing right next to me'. if he hadn't been taught that disrupting a prayer was a form of evil, he would have hit her twice on the head by now, but the last thing he needed to do was prove a point.

once she'd blown into her chest, she faced the wall opposite them with a smile, letting out a small breath.

"that was stupid," he muttered, unimpressed.

"didn't ask," she hummed, before clearing her throat. "are you interested in anyone?"

he was wrong — perhaps she did need that prayer after all.

megumi peered down at her, a brow raised, judging.

his usual sharp composure faltered for a moment as he processed her question. a frown twitched at the edge of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher the motive behind her sudden curiosity. this wasn't like her usual teasing — it had an edge of genuine interest that unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite place.

"what the hell?" he demanded, visibly disgusted and audibly confused.

"you're making this bigger than it needs to be," she huffed, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "it's just as simple as any other question."

"except you've never asked me that before," he retorted, glowering as she shrugged, her eyes tracing the display board, the one with your image on it.

her expression shifted to a thoughtful calm, taking in each photo and flyer pinned neatly on the cork surface, her fingers tapping lightly against the folder she held, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

megumi didn't understand what was so amusing about her question.

it was confusing; it made no sense.

"so?" she prompted, nudging his side for the second time that day; he shrugged her off, annoyed. "is there any girl you like? any girl you think you like?"

"what's it to you?" he interrogated, placing his helmet over his head to block her out of his peripheral vision. maybe if she wasn't being so annoying, he wouldn't have to do that.

she didn't hesitate when she answered him.

"i'm asking because of an event," said tsumiki, and as she spoke, the sound of shuffling had penetrated megumi's thick helmet, entering his ears, prompting him to turn and glance down at her to see what she was doing. from the lines on his helmet, he could see her shuffling through pages in her folder, before eventually pulling out a purple flyer and offering it to him. sceptically and suspiciously, he took it. "'cause i'm organising it, i get vip tickets for friends and family. i wanted to give you one, and if you have anyone in mind, give her one too. but you're being so secretive."

"i'm not being secretive," said megumi, barely reading the flyer's contents. he was sure he wasn't going to go anyway, he never usually did anyway. he handed it back to her, waving it when she wouldn't take it. "i just don't have anyone."

she sniffed, pushing the flyer back towards him. "could've just said that."

"you were being suspicious," he sneered, eyes narrowed as tsumiki shook her head at him, disagreeing. he clicked his tongue, disapproving. "i don't even go to any of the school stuff anyway."

tsumiki raised a brow at him, visibly sceptical.

"what about homecoming?" she suggested, and megumi was thrown back in time to when he'd been struggling to avoid satoru and his 'bonding time' (which was essentially just picking out expensive suits together). "winter formal? spring fling? the spring formal last year?"

he remembered all of those quite well. still, he remained stagnant.

"i only went to those 'cause y/n dragged me to them."

tsumiki reached up and knocked on his helmet. he scowled and harshly moved her hand away, failing once, twice, three times before she finally stopped.

"did y/n hold a gun to your head?" she asked him, watching as he slowly took his helmet off and shook his hair out of his eyes. he was in need of a haircut soon, he thought to himself, reminded of his mom who politely nagged at him every day about it.

"mentally, she did," he commented quietly. he locked gazes with tsumiki and looked away not even a second later. "does."

a flicker of thought crossed megumi's mind. he recalled the multiple times he'd caught glimpses of tsumiki with kamo throughout the day — small moments, brief exchanges, but enough to catch his attention. she'd been smiling, animated even, in a way that felt unusual.

he acted on this prickle of curiosity, brows furrowed.

"are you taking anyone?" he questioned, looking down at the flyer to clarify. "to the... choir?"

tsumiki shook her head, a look of mild frustration pained over her face. "ever since satoru and your dad scared derek off last year, i... i stopped looking."

megumi raised a brow at her, very clearly critical of her hesitant response. "you stopped looking or they stopped approaching you?"

tsumiki's usual warmth seemed dimmed, her kind expression weighed down with a mix of weariness and irritation, brows knitted slightly with a faint line of frustration formed between them as her gaze shifted to the side, avoiding megumi's probing look.

"they stopped approaching me," she admitted with a sigh, but she was smiling, so megumi assumed it wasn't a massive bother.

not when she seemed to be hitting it off with kamo, apparently...

"so why do you keep talking to kamo?" he asked, straightforward and blunt. there was, in his view, no point beating around the bush or sugarcoating it. it would take too long for her to explain and equally longer for him to just get to the point. he did not have the time nor the patience for that.

there was a gentleness in her face, but it looked stretched thin, as if the weight of the question had caught up, stunning her momentarily. her lips parted briefly, like she wanted to explain, but ultimately came to the decision where in the end, she would not.

"wouldn't you like to know?" she settled on saying, her lip curled.

it irritated megumi.

"i don't," he lied, his voice distant and quiet.

"kamo's a nice guy," said tsumiki, as though trying to feed him this information little by little, like a child being monitored with how much candy they consume. "a really nice guy, actually."

megumi did not particularly agree with this, but he was not going to communicate that with tsumiki, not when she seemed so starstruck by him. megumi didn't even think she felt this strongly about derek carter from the basketball team; it rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that he might have to see one of his football teammates — other than yuji — turn up to dinner at satoru's every once in a while on fridays.

even so, he didn't necessarily believe kamo to be a bad guy.

he was decent: megumi respected his ability to never indulge in gossip as well as the company he always chose to keep — except for todo, that was something he silently critiqued.

but kamo and tsumiki...?

odd pairing, he thought to himself.

"he can hold a conversation better than i thought he could," tsumiki added thoughtfully, slightly nodding to herself as she spoke. "and... he's considerate."

megumi averted his gaze back to the display board, now uninterested.

"will i be seeing him around more?" he asked her without actually looking at her properly. he wasn't in support of this odd pairing, but if tsumiki genuinely liked noritoshi kamo, he wasn't going to actively try and prevent them from happening.

that did not, however, mean he couldn't silently judge them in his head.

and perhaps verbally with nobara, too, since she did feel quite strongly about his teammate ("he acts like he doesn't care about anything, with that 'i don't care' attitude, but look at his face! he's trying too hard, so he definitely does!").

"possibly," said tsumiki, smiling gracefully.

as the muffled sound of voices grew louder, both tsumiki and megumi instinctively turned their heads towards the theatre hall doors, where a steady flow of students began spilling into the corridor. the doors swung open, and megumi's gaze sharpened as he and tsumiki lightly searched the crowd, his eyes moving over familiar faces until they landed on you, standing and walking amidst your classmates.

you approached the two with a smile.

"ooh, tsumiki, you walking home with us?" you asked brightly, adjusting the strap of your bag as you shoved your papers inside. judging from the format of the text, megumi assumed it was a script for another play.

"mamaguro invited me over for dinner," she explained casually, "but she said absence isn't an option, so..."

"ugh, i'm jealous," you frowned, gesturing to your bag to clarify what you meant. "i want to come over too but i have a script to memorise by next week, and i need help with the pre-calc homework kento gave us today."

tsumiki's eyes darted between you and megumi, her lips pursed as though she had been missing something significant.

"megumi's... not able to help you with that?" she asked, her voice an octave higher with apparent confusion.

you raised your brows. "no, he can."

megumi aided you. "i just won't."

tsumiki's head tilted ever so slightly, and a faint crease appeared on her forehead, the kind she only got when she was trying to piece together a particularly baffling puzzle. her lips then parted as if to ask something, but she hesitated, scanning megumi's indifferent expression and your casual one with a slow shake of her head.

"i'm not gonna ask," she settled on saying, before you noticed the flyer in megumi's hand.

leaning in closer, you scanned the leaflet's front, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. the fact that megumi of all people was holding onto one left you momentarily speechless, lips parted as you took in the big, bold text, still a little stunned.

"what's that?" you asked, barely waiting for an answer before reading it aloud. "'choir day: join us and learn the trombone' ... you're actually going to that?"

"no," hestated, looking down and shaking the flyer at tsumiki as though he'd forgotten that he had been holding it. "i'd even pick your stupid plays over some choir show here."

you nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to remind him of who he was speaking to.

"they're not stupid, they're fun," you corrected him with a scowl, pleased when he stepped away from you and threw you a light, warning glare.

tsumiki clicked her fingers at him, making him turn his head and his attention over to her, attentive, like a dog.

"and you're sure you're not taking anyone?" she'd said, brows raised as she opened her folder and tapped at a sheet of paper in it.

you perked up, nonplussed. "you're taking someone?"

"no," he snapped, turning to tsumiki again with a glare. the three of you had started walking out of the hallway now, making your way to the exit. "i told you, i'm not into any girls."

tsumiki, placed in between the two of you, nodded thoughtfully. "ah, so you swing the other way?"

without hesitation, megumi gave her a firm shove, sending her stumbling sidewards — right into you.

"don't be stupid," he'd said over your loud protests, planting his feet firmly onto the ground as tsumiki stood behind him, regaining her balance.

"no, tsumiki, he likes princess jasmine," you told her over his shoulder, watching her enthusiastically nod in agreement.

"i don't —"

"that's why little you's cheeks turned red when her outer robe fell off —" you teased as you walked right up to him, prepared to attack because of his careless shove against tsumiki.

but he was one step ahead of you.

just as you moved to strike, he planted the helmet on your head and delivered a solid smack to its top. the sound reverberated around you, ringing in your ears, while a dull ache radiated from the point of impact.

your brain had too much fog to focus on what he was now doing to tsumiki. all you could see, through several hard blinks and the stupid face mask lines, was megumi's back, which meant that he was now towering over tsumiki and launching a range of attacks.

you had an idea:

bending over, his helmet now in line with his behind, you charged forward like an angry bull, your head colliding with his back (a stiff one, you had to mention) repeatedly.

"what the—" you heard him grunt.

you couldn't see it, but he was looking down at you from over his shoulder, confused and inwardly concerned with your choice of attack.

it did hurt though, so he'd have to put a stop to it anyway, and that would've been easy to do if tsumiki wasn't now tugging on his hair and stomping on his foot.

from the far end of the hallway, a teacher spotted the scuffle and rushed forward, his expression quickly shifting from irritation to outright disbelief. apparently, he'd first assumed it was a classic tussle between a group of rowdy boys; the vigorous shoving, stomping, and grunts gave that impression from a distance, but as he got closer, he had blinked in surprise, recognising that the three of you involved were a pair of girls and only one boy.

"right, just... walk home safely, you three," he'd said, eyeing megumi's creased jersey and dishevelled hair with a grimace. when his eyes darted to you, the helmet still on your head, he nodded. "bye... y/n."

"no i'm megumi, can't you tell —"

"let's go," megumi grumbled, gripping onto your elbow and tugging you forward with a little more force than necessary.

you shoved him off and walked beside tsumiki again.

the rest of the journey home was filled with collective bullying, laughter, and a disgruntled megumi who vowed to keep you and tsumiki away from each other at all costs. you were rubbing off on her and he didn't like it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

toji shoved satoru off of him once the door had been kicked shut behind him, his chest puffed out in an attempt to appear more intimidating, but he knew the childish man wouldn't flinch even if he bit at him.

"you touch me again and you're gonna end up in a hospital bed you white haired —"

"shut up," satoru groaned, his words drawn out in apparent exhaustion.

toji did not like this demand, parting his lips to say something — no doubt some sort of threat — but satoru had been quicker: for the first time since toji's known him, he was jumping straight to the point.

"look, i don't like you, and you don't like me —"

"incorrect," said toji, arms folded over his chest, though his fists were still clenched where they rested on each side of his waist.

satoru grimaced.

that look — staring back at him with one side of his upper lip lifted, his brows raised and contorted, his nose scrunched. toji wanted nothing more than to punch it right off, a clean swipe.

however, it seemed that he didn't have to, for his face had shifted into one he recognised even better...

the cocky one.

he hated that one even more.

"see, i'm flattered, fushiguro," he began, grinning as toji's nails cut right into each of his palms, leaving half moon crescent marks behind, "really, i am, but i have a wife —"

toji's nostrils flared dangerously.

"shut-the-fuck-up-before-i-shove-my-fist-in-your-fucking-mouth-you-cocky-fucking-bastard —"

satoru raised his hands in mock surrender.

"woah there buddy —"

"you got it fucking twisted," snapped toji, stepping up to the other male with a menacing glare. "i hate your guts. i wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire — and even now, i wanna squash you where you stand, like a bug. consider yourself lucky my wife likes you —"

"i am not the enemy here!" satoru interrupted him loudly.

without breaking eye contact with the enraged, bulky man before him, he pointed at the door behind him where laughter and chatter sounded from members of the gathering.

"we have a common enemy out there. and just this once... aside from the time the serial-hump-er was out for us men... i offer a truce to get rid of the brat."

derek carter was, by all outward appearances, exactly the kind of guy most people would be thrilled to see with someone like tsumiki. he was relentlessly polite, with a clean-cut look and a warm, ready smile that seemed designed to put parents at ease. always prepared, he carried her books without needing to be asked, laughed at all the right moments, and brought flowers to meet the family — not that toji or satoru could find anything wrong with him, on paper.

and maybe that was the problem.

he was too perfect.

perfectly timed smiles, perfect grades, perfect compliments... to toji and satoru, he seemed like he was performing rather than being genuine, and that subtle insincerity — whether real or perceived — set them both on edge. neither of them bought it, and both of them, despite their very obvious differences, couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't quite what he appeared to be.

toji's defensive posture shifted, shoulders loosening as satoru's offer had started to sink in. his glare had softened, the tension in his clenched fists releasing as he glanced from satoru to the closed door behind him, where derek's too-perfect laughter rang out.

for a moment, toji just scowled at the ground, processing, and satoru had assumed he had lost the deal, that they would not be able to collectively get rid of the perfect brat of a date that tsumiki had brought out. but then, toji looked up again, and gave him a quick, almost reluctant nod.

satoru gave him a toothy grin, which was not returned.

"what did you have in mind?" toji began, his voice gruff with obvious reluctance.

"hate to say it, but i'm gonna have to be the brains behind this," said satoru, sounding all too pleased with himself.

if toji hadn't been so pissed with the sight of that carter kid, he might have actually spent time being suspicious with the white-haired freak. what if he was setting him up again? it certainly wouldn't have been the first time...

"believe me, i'd love to be in on the action too," he continued, still smiling that dopy smile, "but i'm a teacher at the high school. got a rep to keep up. and... i could lose my job, obviously..." he glanced at toji with a small, cheeky grin. "you wouldn't be able to relate —"

"— get to the fucking point —"

"— all right."

the plan had been made, enacted, and even altered slightly during it.

the chaos that followed was a carefully orchestrated disaster. satoru's brilliant plan had required toji to bring back a bothersome personality trait he had put at rest from meeting his wife onwards, turning an already uncomfortable event into a whirlwind.

plates clattered, chairs tipped, and the silverware clinked at the most inopportune moments, all while derek had tried to keep his composure, only to grow more visibly unnerved as the night went on. between satoru's subtle, deadpan remarks that derek barely caught, and toji's unexpected, pointed comments that cut through any remaining calm, derek found himself squirming, second-guessing every word. and when toji made a point of 'accidentally' standing too close, arms crossed, looming like a silent bouncer, that had been the final straw.

tsumiki's date excused himself with a pale face, disappearing through the door as fast as he could without actually running.

in turn, tsumiki had not spoken to either of them again for a whole, entire week.

at least the brat was gone without any legal reinforcements.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

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notes: i hope you enjoyed this chapter (congrats again reinaswrldddd) my wifeee 🎀💓 i hope it pleases you, i hope you become rich and rule the world (gonna need it after trump’s win 😐). you’re the best and ily (did you guys know that she’s my wife? 😱❤️‍🔥)

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i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

154 notes · View notes

fonteyn · 6 months ago

Text

sweet lips like pink lemonade (when he's feeling generous he'll give me taste)

Pairing: Michael Gavey x afab!reader, no use of y/n. Warnings: Smut. Minors do not interact. +18 rating. Read on AO3.

Author's note: So. this isn't as much of a proper fic, it's more of a fever dream headcanon I had to write down.

*Images are purely for their aesthetic sentiment and not reflective of any particular descriptions of reader inserts.

**nobody look at me. enjoy!

Word count: 1.6k.

It was a Friday like any other during the Oxford term. Students flooded every bar near the campus, drinking their weight in beer with fearsome abandon, trying to forget how exams were getting closer and closer and the grades they needed to recover to make it through to the next year.

You, though, had been getting used to a different kind of normalcy.

Soon enough, your boyfriend of a few months would arrive to hang out in your room. He'd always bring the food and, in exchange, you'd offer him tales of your week along with the easy intimacy you had found in each other as of late.

This time, when Michael Gavey arrives at your dorm room, he finds you lying belly down on your bed, reading a book for one of your classes and just. Freezes. Already flushed and embarrassed and yearning for you.

It had been a long week. With exams approaching, he barely saw you other than in two quick visits you paid him at the library, on which you pecked him on the lips, talked for less than five minutes, and were soon forced to leave or else you’d risk being late for your next class. During weekdays, he tried to remain laser-focused on his tasks, so much so that he sometimes forgot to eat as he got through endless papers and exercise lists. On the other hand, every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel a larger-than-life, disgusting, and too-big want for you, distracting him from everything else.

He knows you like him, especially given that you made a point to reassure him about it so often. He thinks you might even love him at some point.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but think about how you’d react if you knew the truth.

That what he felt was more than simple affection, an easy enjoyment of your company.

What he felt was overwhelming and all-consuming, keeping him up for hours at night, heart racing thinking of your smile, planning ahead conversation starters and factoids he thought would be interesting to you, marveling about the increasingly easy ways you showed affection.

How your hand would reach to touch his knee under the table at dinner. The times you’d hide your nose on his chest, hugging him to protect yourself from cold weather. The times you’d position yourself behind him and massage his neck when you knew he had been studying for hours without ever so much as getting up once. You always managed to break his focus with minimal effort.

Tonight, when he lays eyes on you, he is once again flooded with that overwhelming greed, accentuated by how you are wearing just one of his 'math pun’ shirts which you took home with you after spending the night in his room a few weeks prior. He fails at not staring, but the hem is hitting your thighs at the absolute perfect length so he can have a peek at your panties.

He lays down by your side, pretending not to be bored. And frankly, he didn't stand a chance. From the moment he saw you, he was aware of his cock growing hard. You innocently think he's just going to keep you company while you finish the last chapter of your planned reading for the night and then you can hang out together.

But. It's nearly impossible to focus when you can feel his gaze burning on your ass. He barely makes a sound, however soon enough you feel the warmth of his fingers starting to trace the hem of your/his shirt. And soon after, he touches the edges of your panties. Unknowingly playing with your emotions as he grazes a finger just underneath the elastic and then retreats.

He keeps doing this for a few minutes, still silent, eyes closed, almost like he's meditating. You're stuck, trying to read the same paragraph over and over, without absorbing a word.

"These are cute", he says, quietly.

An edge in his voice, and before you know it, it's as if something in him snaps. He moves to his knees.

He's got his hands massaging your ass and his nose gliding on the back of your thighs, leaving kisses here and there, so soft you can barely feel. Just enough to make your body stand alert, preparing for his next move.

Despite this, any awareness goes out of the window because you simply don’t expect him to shove his nose right there in your clothed pussy from behind. Mouthing on your lips, kissing and licking and moaning against you until you don't know if your panties are wet from his saliva or your juices.

And though you want to drop everything right there and then, you can't. Through strokes and licks and moans he manages to say: “No, no, baby. Just keep reading, don’t mind me.”

But he doesn’t stop or grant you mercy, as his hands spread your ass to give him more room to continue kissing your pussy through the fabric of your panties. Pausing only a couple of times to bite the curve of your ass, or take in your scent.

One of the many things you loved about Michael was how shameless he allowed himself to be in adoration of your body. How openly he wore his hunger for you. With clear infinite want.

You can tell his hips start rutting against the mattress as he worships you. And you are breathless, wanting just as bad to feel him without any barriers between you.

He stays like that, kissing your panties, running his nose across your clothed pussy, humming and biting the delicate skin of your butt cheeks until you finally have enough and decide to beg.

"Mikey, pleaaase, put me out of my misery, take off my panties, honey."

Never in your life had you whined like that to a man. And it strikes you like a bolt of lightning that the only one who managed to drag anything like that out of you was this skinny nerd with a big dick and an unawareness of his unbeatable head game.

When he hears your voice, he finally raises his head, as if he’s coming out of a ‘pussy drunk’ trance. He seems only vaguely aware of everything else. His sole focus for the past half hour had been enjoying your body, feeling your skin, smelling you, locked in an unbelievable dreamland of "I can't believe I get to do this, I can't believe I get to have you".

As soon as he hears you ask, he immediately, and clumsily, pulls down your panties and dives his tongue straight into your core. Adding quickly, two long fingers inside you. And you're nearly crying because as much as that feels good, it's not what you want. You want more. You need more.

"Baby, please just give me your cock.", you’re almost sobbing.

His brain nearly short-circuits. He gets up, stumbling, dizzy with desire, and before he can grab a condom, your hand shoots out to stop him. Holding his wrist.

He eyes you, surprised. Stunned by how disheveled you look, with pupils dilated, quick pulse, and a wild look in your eyes.

"Just take me raw. I wanna feel all of you."

He could have died right there and then.

Michael manages to, somehow, climb back in your bed, noticing how you put a pillow under your hips and now you're presenting your ass, prettily and ready. Pussy glistening to take him.

So he does.

Pushing his leaking cock inside you, where you hold him tight. Clenching in a way that has him nearly seeing stars. He needs to stop for a moment.

He still wasn't very experienced, and if he was going to last at all until he could make you cum, he needed to recite pi on his head a couple of times to calm himself down.

So he leans down and presses kisses along your neck and your jaw, delighting in how you whimper, crying out in desperation. He leaves a trail of kisses down your back until he feels ok enough to start fucking you.

By this time, you have turned from nearly crying to whining and moaning, to finally begging him to move. When he starts fucking you, it's as if all is good and right in the world, and you bask in a surreal notion of Michael and you just fitting together in an impossibly perfect way.

He keeps pumping inside you, and he can tell he's closer to coming than you. He's getting louder, unable to quiet the effects of having your tight pussy clenching and squeezing him. Michael knows he's nearly done for and, in a desperate and instinctive moment, uses his thumb to gather some of your wetness, bringing it up to softly massage your hole. And you cum instantly .

So hard it makes him shoot his load inside you for what it feels like forever.

He finally collapses on top of you, feverish from it all, heart beating so fast it's threatening to jump out of his chest. But you manage to move underneath him, turning your body to face him.

You feel flushed, cheeks burning with embarrassment from cumming this hard and in this particular way. So before Michael can say anything that will inevitably be somehow a mixture of awkward, shy, and arrogant all at once, you hold his face in your hands and pull him towards a kiss.

Your lips appreciate the soft press of his own, still wet partly from him licking his lips, and partly from eating you out. Your thumb traces his stupidly perfect cupid’s bow and jawline, nearly getting yourself in a trance, much like he was when he first started this whole thing.

Finally, your eyes meet. Michael still has that wild, ravaging, and all-consuming gaze, now mixed with the distinctive look of satisfaction. It would be overwhelming if you didn't know that you were looking at him in the same way.

"So, that was good... right?, he asks.

And all you can do is smile and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

A/n: I have one final point to make. Michael Gavey IS the type of guy who will take your panties home after the first time you hook up (probably a handjob in the bathroom of a bar where you are both slightly inebriated and you smile as you stuff your panties in his pocket, thinking that you're soooo funny for doing that and bringing out a priceless look of his face). And he WILL masturbate with his nose pressed against them afterward. AND he WILL tell you when you ask, because of course you ask and he CAN'T for some reason lie to you. His face and neck flushed with embarrassment unaware that if it were anyone else you'd find it creepy but because it's him, you think it's the hottest thing ever and you give him a blow job right after he admits to that.

#michael gavey x reader #my fics #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey #saltburn fanfiction

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seraphinitegames · 9 months ago

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The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 31/May/2024

A busy one this week! But it always feels good when it’s been busy but you can check so many things off your list. Especially seeing as it was a bank holiday I forgot about last Monday, so a shorter week! :D

After some amazingly encouraging comments on Patreon, I did decide to go back and put in the Unit Bravo POV for Chapter Two. Not only that, but I decided to make it individual love interest POVs, because I can’t help myself, hehe! But it was actually kind of perfect, because it gives a nice small glimpse into what the vampires get up to when the MC isn’t around and they aren’t working…well, unless it’s A, and then they’re pretty much always working anyway, lol!

After that, I started on the end scenes for Chapter Two, and let me tell you…they are some doozy scenes! Bringing out some angsty punch right from the start, hehe! But also finished with some rather lovely soft romantic moments which help to soothe that intensity… ;D

They were scenes I have been waiting agggges to write. It certainly sets up how things that are happening might come between the building romances!

I was a bit worried that adding in the extra POV scenes would push me back, but I really went for it this week, and I’m going to be finishing Chapter Two today as planned!!!

So next week that means I can start on the editing and rewriting. Next week will also be social media days, which I will be heading elsewhere to do because internet here is still intermittent at best, and I really want the asks to be more consistent again!

Got some really fun stuff coming up on Patreon this month too, including the initial sketch idea for Mason/Morgan’s masquerade ball mask! Looking forward to working on all of that :D

Hope you all have the most amazing weekend and enjoy the demo—as well as get excited for what's to come after checking it out, hehe! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week! <3

#the wayhaven chronicles #interactive fiction #unit bravo #twc detective #romance #vampires #update #twc book 4 #the wayhaven chronicles book 4 #choice of games #hosted games #choicescript #creative writing

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hellfire--cult · 2 years ago

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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, Stripper!Billy, Stripper!Steve, sensual dancing, shyness towards men, nervousness, fainting, sexual innuendos.

Summary: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

A/N: IDK MAN. I just needed to write this down so that my brain could stop messing with me and I am still writing. This will be a two part thing, maybe three, with long chapters. It will have smut, and a lot of sexual tension my boys, but it won't be a long series.

As always, all reblogs help, tagging it, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Part 1

You shouldn’t be here.

You knew you were not going to be able to tolerate it, yet, here you are, at your best friend’s bachelorette party. You weren’t nervous about that, no. Before coming to the place you are now, you had all gathered at her home, which was decorated and drinks, food and games were all around to play with.

Most of the time, you could handle the decoration your other best friend picked. Robin was in charge of decoration for Nancy’s wedding, and everywhere you looked, a dick was there. In all shapes, colors, and some were not even humanly shaped. But there were times in the day where you had to excuse yourself to catch your breath in the bathroom because of it as well.

And now, things have gotten worse. Extremely worse. Because you seriously forgot this part of the party. This part that Robin had talked to you about. This part where you begged her to not do it because it was super cliché.

You were at a strip club. A male, strip club.

“Best seats on the house ladies!” The host greeted us and you could read the name on the tag as Joyce. She seemed nice, and welcoming, but the place you were in wasn’t remotely inviting to you. The table, in question, was right next to the end of the catwalk, so you were going to have the show right in front of your face.

You were sweating already, feeling your stomach flutter around as you looked around to all the excited women waiting for the show to begin. You didn’t even read the presentation of the men that were performing tonight. There were pictures at the entrance, with their names, ages, and some hobbies, but you couldn’t even do that.

“Hey, you okay?” Robin whispered to you worriedly, and you snapped your head towards her. You didn’t even know you were staring at the catwalk with a terrified look in your face. “You can go to the bathroom if you want, or just go wait in the car? I don’t want you there alone, but if it’s too much, just leave.” She says to you, not promising to go with you if that does happen.

You cannot blame her, and you can’t be mad either. She had organized everything, knowing you couldn’t do it. Knowing there was no way you would do a reservation on a place like this. She can’t leave Nancy, not even if Barb, Vickie, and Kali were there, so you just nodded at her, trying to shake your nervousness away.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m fine Robs.” You replied to her and she sighed, giving you a small nod. You didn’t want Nancy to have a bad night, so you believed you could endure this, just for an hour or two.

But your shyness towards men has followed you since childhood.

You tried kissing, getting a boyfriend, even having sex, yet, meeting random men made your nerves go crazy on you, to the point of almost feeling like throwing up. You thanked your dad for this horrible curse. Growing up with no male figure whatsoever, and your mom being cheated on three times in your face did nothing to help with your shyness, and sometimes, even fear. Just small of it.

You weren’t afraid of men. You were afraid of what they could do, of what they could ruin in just a second, of how manipulative they can be. You know women can do that too, but you never met one like that, nor heard stories about it. You’ve seen it in movies of course, even books of the woman being the cheater and the horrible person you believed only men could be.

But the shyness always worsened if the man before you was handsome. Your ex boyfriend was just remotely attractive to you, that’s why you gave it a chance. It sounds horrible, but you weren’t attracted to him, because if you were, you were sure to shut down every time he talked to you.

It’s sad you weren’t attracted to women like Robin is, or bisexual like Vickie. If you were, you might not even have this problem, or maybe yes, because if you were attracted to women too, then this issue might even escalate there.

But you weren’t, so that’s why your shyness didn’t exist around the female crowd.

“Okay ladies, prepare your bills!” Barb yelled excitedly and your heart almost jumped out of your chest. You were seated the farthest away from the stage, so you would have to just sit back and hope to make no contact with whoever dances on that stage.

You were also hoping these men weren’t even remotely handsome.

The lights went off as your drinks were getting delivered and you were chugging down on your Margarita as if it were water to make your nerves go away, knowing very well they won’t, while the rest of your friends yelled loudly in excitement. The tables full of ladies around you also yelled loudly as Unholy from Sam Smith started playing and your breath caught in your throat as the first man walked out.

He had brown hair, with a bit of volume and styled nicely, brown eyes, and he was dressed like a priest, rosary dangling in his left hand. He was handsome, yes, but thanks to the outfit your nerves were still remotely stable. You heard the ladies all around you cheer while drinking some beer.

“Hello Stevie boy!” You heard the woman coo as she waved at him, and you saw him wink back at her. She must be a regular you thought. The lights were bright as he walked down the catwalk, between the tables, and you were feeling your leg going up and down as he came closer.

The lights suddenly went fully red as the chorus hit, and his grand had gripped the collar of his cassock, and in one tug, he had ripped the buttons, fully opening his garments and your eyes widened, your stomach turning into a sea of nerves and nausea as his abdomen was revealed, slightly toned, beauty marks all over. Your eyes trailed downwards, and he was wearing some tight short black briefs. Your friends all cheered as he took the garment off, throwing it on the floor as he swayed his hips while running the rosary all over his chest, down towards his abs.

You were surprised no one was offended by this.

He turned towards the table that was opposite of yours and dropped on his knees as he swayed his hips towards the ladies there. You had perfect view of his ass and you blushed a deep red as you tried to look away. You were glad it wasn’t your table, because you weren’t going to do what the ladies in that table or your friends were going to do.

Dollar bills were being shoved in his briefs by hungry and lustful hands, and he always kept a smile on his face. You turned to see he was facing your table and the blood in your system drained completely. He crawled over and as he reached the very edge of the catwalk, he glided his abdomen down, as if grinding onto the floor, and his eyes were trained on Nancy.

She was wearing a small crown with white flowers, and a small white veil dropped at the back of her head. He knew it was a bachelorette party. You sighed with relief knowing this now. You weren’t going to be the focus of it! All the men were going to pamper Nancy because they know it’s her bachelorette party! One last whoop of ‘freedom’ before tying the knots.

He jumped off the catwalk as he stepped over towards Nancy. You saw how he moved Nancy’s chair to face away from the table and she was giggling at the strength he had. You were trying to keep up with the clapping to the music but you were distracted as he stood over Nancy, over her lap, both hands gripping the back of her chair, his face inches from hers.

You were sweating now. You don’t know how Nancy could be smiling at this, shoving bills in his briefs. He bit onto the rosary that was wrapped in his left wrist, making it unwrap itself from there, and let it dangle from his mouth as he grabbed onto her hands and made her roam his chest, down to his abdomen sensually.

“GO NANCE!” Robin yelled while cheering and you were just stunned at how calm everyone is about this. He was swaying his hips over her as their eyes were locked with one another. You could see him smirking with the rosary’s beads still in his mouth and your jaw almost dropped at how sexy this man was, and you were extremely intimidated by it.

Your feet wanted to up and leave, but you were trying to stay calm, knowing Nancy had her veil on, and the night would be on her.

This Stevie boy leaned down to her face and his nose nudged her cheek, and you were sure he was going to kiss it, but he didn’t. He was letting heavy hot breaths onto Nancy’s skin, making it have goosebumps all over and shiver. Knowing this, Steve finally pulled away, putting the rosary around Nancy’s neck, winking down at her and pushing himself off her.

He hopped on the stage, the song finishing while the women cheered all around. He bent down towards his outfit to get something out of pockets and your eyes widened when he took a bottle out, a large vial with a cross on it. He grabbed onto the cork with his teeth, smirking as the crowd yelled in excitement. He walked back towards Nancy, dropping down off the stage, the lights shining on them as he handed Nancy the bottle and making her stand up from her chair.

Nancy bit her lip as he slowly got on his knees, his hands over his chest in a praying position and you felt your heart coming out of your throat as he smiled up at her. She put the bottle over his chest and tilted it, dropping the water on him. All the girls were cheering and you looked down to the table to fight the shakiness and the blush on your cheeks.

How did the girls do this with no problem?

The song ended and he got claps all around as well as Nancy who was fanning herself with her other hand. The man stood up, completely drenched, his body glistening under the lights. Nancy took all of the bills from the girls and started shoving them in the edges of his briefs while he chuckled at her enthusiasm. He knew she liked the show.

“What a lucky man.” You heard him flirt with her, giving the table a wink which made you jump slightly, and he got on the catwalk under the dimmed lights, receiving claps and last hollers as he picked his outfit from the stage and gave a last smile to the crowd before disappearing behind the curtains.

“Oh my god.” Nancy made you snap out of your staring as she fixed her chair back onto the table, and she was still fanning herself, putting the bottle on the table. “I am definitely taking that as a souvenir.”

All your friends giggled and you couldn’t even take off the panicked look you had on your face. You licked your lips as everyone ordered a new round of drinks. You needed to calm these nerves down and you decided to talk to Robin again.

“Robs, how many dancers are there?” You asked her and she winced slightly and then sighed.

“Just two more.” Two. Two, okay that wasn’t so bad, you can handle two more. “You doing okay? Was that too much?”

“A little freaked out, but thankfully, Nancy is going to be the main person at our table, so I won’t be even near these men.” You said, almost as if convincing yourself and Robin nodded at you with reassurance which made you sigh a little bit in relief. You can handle a little more, it was bad, but it didn’t happen to you so watching it was tolerable.

After a few minutes, Joyce brought another round of drinks and you had another Margarita ready to be downed in two seconds. Your nerves stood on end as the lights dimmed again. You heard the roaring of a car as the song ‘Bad Karma’ from Miley Cyrus started blasting on the speakers.

The curtains opened to a man wearing just a denim jacket over his naked torso, a blonde mullet in his hair, sunglasses over his eyes, while his legs were covered in tight jeans and a black belt around his waist. The women cheered and you could see some already fanning their faces.

“This is Billy, right?” You heard Barb ask Kali, which the girl nodded excitedly. You could see the man smirk, showing his teeth towards the crowd as he licked over them as if excited. He walked a little bit to be in the center of the stage, and he turned around to shake his hips slowly while holding onto his jacket, opening it wide. Your eyes fixed on his backside, and his ass was even better than the last man. You felt your body burning wildly as he turned around, showing his torso in his full glory thanks to him widening open his jacket.

Moans could be heard in the song and this Billy guy bit his bottom lip as he started to take off his jacket, slowly, swaying side to side, teasing all the women he was standing in front of. They were whining at him for not fully taking his jacket off. He nodded towards his jeans and the women understood perfectly, standing excitedly to shove some bills into the edges and some in his pockets while he chuckled, his hips moving from side to side.

He fully took off his jacket, throwing it towards the start of the stage and the women cheered as he grabbed the hands of an older woman, looking like 70’s or more, while bending down, kneeling in front of her. She was laughing, feeling shy about the action, shaking her head to a younger woman who was encouraging her. You tilted your head at the woman in confusion. She was acting shy, trying to pull away with a smile to her face but he was still holding onto her. If she didn’t want to, why was he making her do it?

You saw how his smirk turned into a soft smile, intertwining his fingers with hers, saying something to her and you could see the woman smile, while giving him a soft nod and she put both her hands on his chest, and he yelled out in cheer towards the crowd, who all clapped and cheered for the bravery of the lady.

He smiled down at her as the woman retreated her hands with a giggle. The younger one was laughing next to her, cheering her on and this man bent down to give the older woman a kiss on the cheek, leaving her red and you could even see the words ‘thank you’ displayed on her lips. He stood back up, his smile turning into a devilish smirk again as he scanned the room. His eyes landed on your table again, and you jumped slightly because you didn’t know who he was looking at, but you didn’t have anything to worry about it, because it was Nancy’s bachelorette party—

Nancy wasn’t wearing her crown. She didn’t have the veil on.

You felt your breath getting caught in your throat as he walked towards the table, hopping off the catwalk and walking by Nancy, passing his hand in the back of her chair. He then passed behind Robin’s. You tensed up when you felt his presence behind you, your knuckles going white on your thighs, not even daring your gaze to follow him. Your heart was beating wildly, like never before. If you were to look at your smartwatch, it was probably at 165 bpm.

You felt the air you were holding in your lungs leaving you when he didn’t grab your chair, or you for that matter, but he held tightly onto the back of Barb’s chair, tilting her backwards for her head to look up at him, hitting onto his torso. He grinned at her, taking his sunglasses off and you were stunned to see the brightest set of eyes you’ve ever seen in your whole life. You didn’t expect those irises, and you could see Barb’s throat bobbing up and down nervously.

He put her back in place as he shoved one of his sunglasses’ temples down Barb’s cleavage, hooking them in place there. His hands ran over her chest and down her sides. You saw your friend’s eyes close as she shivered with a smile on her face. You caught something in your peripheral view, and saw Joyce walking with a small tray. She put it in front of Barb and your eyes widened when you saw a small glass with salt in it, a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila.

“Oh…” Barb said with wide eyes, and she felt her chair being pulled away from the table and the man chuckled at her, stepping in between her and the table, showing her his white teeth.

“That’s for me, sweet thing.” The women around us cheered and swooned, as Nancy hollered towards Barb while he bent towards Barb’s ear to whisper something and you saw Barb smiling and nod in approval.

You gulped tightly as you saw him grab the lemon from behind him and then hold onto the back of Barb’s head, tilting it backwards. He ran the lemon onto the side of her neck, dampening it, and then he ran a thumb on Barb’s chin, making her open her mouth. He put the side of the lemon’s skin in her mouth and she held it in between her teeth. He then grabbed onto the salt, and put some on his hand.

The ladies around us were clapping with rhythm at the same time, encouraging what was happening as he smiled devilishly at his crowd. He then looked down at Barb and pressed the salt onto the dampened part of her neck, sticking it to the skin. She shivered at the touch and he then wiped his hand on his jeans as he held onto the tequila shot in his other one.

“Ready for me?” You heard the women ‘woo’ at his words and you almost covered your eyes as he tilted Barb’s head to the side, leaning down towards her with a smirk on his lips. He took his tongue out and gave it a flat lick, slowly, sensually, pressing his tip at her pulse point as he felt the salt finish.

“Holy fuck.” You heard Robin say and you just wanted to bolt the hell out of there. This was too much, even for you, a spectator. He took the shot, throwing his head back with it, throwing the glass to the side, and it didn’t even break. He held onto the back of Barb’s head, leaning back down to lick onto the lemon on her mouth. Barb’s fingers were hooked at the front pockets of his jeans, pulling him close. He smirked widely as he finally bit onto the lemon, his lips touching Barb’s as he did so.

Your breath got caught in your throat. You didn’t know Strippers could kiss guests, clients at that. In the cheek, or neck, was one thing, but on the lips?

Your group of friends had dollar bills in their hands, ready to put them in his pants and you felt a deep blush creep in your face from nervousness and embarrassment. You didn’t want to be the only one to not put a bill there. He was just doing his job, but you were just too shy to do so. Robin grabbed your hand and put a bill in there and you were wide eyed looking at her.

“I’ll help you, you can just close your eyes!” You were thankful for Robin. She was helping you in not being seen as a cheap person, not paying them for their entertainment. You nodded nervously at her, gulping loudly as you saw the Billy guy finally pull away from Barb. He took the lemon out of her mouth, throwing it onto the tray again. She was smirking at him and he followed her gaze to his pants and he saw the money she shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.

“What a sneaky baby.” He winked at her and he walked towards Nancy for her to shove her bills in his pockets, then Kali, then Vickie, Robin, and you felt your breath on your throat as he looked at you, cocking his head to the side as he inspected you. Robin grabbed tightly onto your hand and you closed your eyes, feeling your heart in your throat as she guided you towards the hem of his pants. As soon as you felt the denim, you shoved the bill there, and your hand flew back to your lap, as well looking down at your table.

You didn’t even look if he was still there or not, but you felt your body on fire, and cold at the same time. You didn’t know if you would be able to take another dancer. The anxiety and nervousness was destroying you inside out at this point.

“He’s gone.” You heard Robin whisper and a sigh of relief escaped you as all the girls looked at you worriedly.

“You can go to the car, I won’t get mad babes…” Nancy coos at you and you look up at her. You remembered how Nancy helped you move into your apartment, settle in, help you call your internet service and fight off the plumber that wanted to scam you for a leak that was in the kitchen sink. You shook your head at her and let out a breath.

“I’m okay, it’s just one more, right?”

“I took off my veil so that everyone could have the chance of a dance–” At that Kali intervened.

“We don’t mind if you put it back on, it might make her feel more comfortable.” You were thankful for the friends you had, all understanding, but you didn’t want to ruin their fun, so you put on a bright smile on your face and nodded at Barb.

“What if the next dancer does something even wilder than what this Billy dude did to Barb here?” You said with a laugh and the girls erupted in giggles as Barb herself blushed a deep red.

“Oh god… You guys know I’m not one the guys go for, so it felt… so nice.” You knew about Barb’s self esteem being low, but you always found her so beautiful. You didn’t understand how she didn’t see that in herself.

“You look hot Barb! And I am a lesbian, so take it as a fact.” Robin said and Vickie nodded at that, smiling widely.

“I second that.” A blush creeped on Barb’s cheeks and she gasped when she felt the sunglasses hanging on the V-Shaped cleavage of her shirt.

“Oh… Guess I have a souvenir as well.” Barb smirked and you smiled at her happiness and giddiness. You wished you could react like that when a handsome man did something nice for you, but all you ever did was mutter a silent ‘thanks’ and walk away when it happened. You once had a nice looking man help you reach the top of a shelf in the supermarket, helping you get the raspberry jam you couldn’t reach.

You turned around to thank the person before you, but as soon as you saw the beautiful middle aged man that stood behind you, gray hairs and all, you almost fainted. Your air pipe immediately closed, and you felt too dizzy to even say anything to him.

So you ran away, forgetting the jam and all.

It was a curse because you didn’t know how to solve this, and you cannot be in a relationship if you have no attraction towards the person. Your sex life would be miserable, and you won’t ever be entirely happy. The worst part, is that, if you catch feelings, the person before you would look beautiful to you no matter what, so you were scared of it ever happening, even though you terribly desired it.

You stiffened when the lights dimmed again, and you saw many women near the catwalk and stage get up excitedly. You could hear whispers here and there while you looked around to see what was going on.

“Last time, I got a lap dance from him, it was so good Donna.” You heard a woman say to the other and then another conversation caught your ear, right behind you.

“You think Eddie will have his hair down or in a bun today?”

So, the last man’s name is Eddie. Okay, just one more dance, and he might not even target your table now! Nancy doesn’t have the veil on, Barb already had a sexy time, so they have to prioritize other tables, other clients. Yes. It’s alright, you can do this, there’s no problem at all, you just have to push through your nerves and nausea and–

‘Do I wanna know?’ by Arctic Monkeys started playing and you shivered at the tune. You didn’t even want to look, but the excitement and shine in your friends' eyes made you a little curious as to what they were looking at. You turned your head towards the stage, and your eyes widened like plates as you saw the man standing on it..

You felt your air leaving your lungs, quite literally at the sight of him. He was extremely gorgeous, even without the clear irises the last guy had, Eddie was absolutely mesmerizing. He had his hair up in a bun, some stud on his chin, and then your eyes went downwards, towards his outfit. He had a black crop top on, with a leather jacket on top, but your eyes bulged when you saw the happy trail of dark hair, going from his abs, down the hem of his leather pants that were tightened with a black belt that had handcuffs at the front of it.

He was too attractive, too inviting, and you felt like vomiting at this very moment.

He winked towards a group of ladies on the side and headed towards them, bending down, grabbing onto the bottle of champagne one was holding. He took a sip of it, and held onto the cheek of the girl before him. You felt your heart almost coming out of your mouth as the girl, willingly, opened her mouth. He leaned forward, and kissed the woman before him, giving her the alcohol he just took a sip of.

Okay, he is a bold one. A very bold one.

He pulled away with a smirk to his face, leaving the girl completely dazed and your jaw dropped when you saw her put a One Hundred Bill in the front pocket of his leather pants. Not only did she put one in his pocket, but another girl next to her as well, and the next one too. Why are they handing out one hundred bills as if it were candy!?

You saw him starting to pull off his jacket, revealing his arms full of tattoos, as he swayed it back and forth on his body, fully taking it off after some cheering, and he threw it on the floor afterwards. He bit his bottom lip as he dropped to his knees, and your eyes widened when his hips started moving back and forth, slowly, graciously, as if thrusting into something. The girls on his right were waving bills at him with excitement in their voices. He chuckled, sliding towards them and your eyes widened when he held a man’s hand.

You took notice of Eddie’s hands, covered in rings as he put the man��s knuckles up to his lips, kissing them tenderly. The young man was fanning himself as the girls next to him were squealing, yelling ‘Happy birthday Johnny!’ to him. Eddie motioned for something behind the girls, at their table, and one of them grabbed onto a plate that had a slice of cake on it.

Eddie scooped some of the whipped cream with his fingers and he smirked as he wiggled them in front of the man’s face.

“Oh my god…” You gasped as you saw the young guy opening his mouth, and Eddie pushed his fingers inside. You felt your stomach do a violent turn at that, your nervousness was now at its peak. Everything with this guy was not even discreet, or with double meanings. He was going straight to the point, taking what he wanted, not even scared of doing so.

You could handle the small dances, and hip grinding, but going for a straightforward kiss? Sticking his fingers inside someone else’s throat? He was definitely the favorite, and you could guess why, but you didn’t want to stay and find out just what else he was willing to do. You didn’t think you would be able to push away your nerves any longer, so you nudged Robin, catching her attention.

“Robs, I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom until this show is over.” Robin nodded at you, and squeezed your hand.

“I figured, he is… He is something else.” She said with a small chuckle and you could only nod, gulping heavily as the beat of the song rang in your ears.

“Send me a message when it’s safe to come out, okay?” You say to her and she gives you a thumbs up. You stood up, not daring to look forward, or catch the man’s eyes. You don’t want him to think you were bored, you just simply couldn’t take the boldness of it all anymore. You went to grab your purse, and suddenly you froze.

Over your hand, which was on top of the small container with your belongings, a ring clad hand pressed over your knuckles, stopping you. A light was on you, and you felt your blood completely drain from your body as a wood-like scent invaded all of your personal bubble. You didn’t know where to look, what to do, what to say to escape, and you felt yourself take a sharp intake of breath when you felt his other hand gliding over your left thigh, just gently, as if brushing.

“Is my show boring you, princess?” A hot breath brushed your ear as he spoke low towards you. Goosebumps displayed all over your body, a sharp shiver ran up and down your spine and you felt a cold sweat invading your body. It wasn’t panic, it was plain nervousness, anxiety of being this close to a man. A handsome man. A man that was bold with his movements, not even a stutter in them.

He grabbed onto your hand, and turned you around, making you face him and if you didn’t have breath in your lungs before, right now, every part of you was empty. No air, no blood, nothing. The only thing you felt was the tight knot in your stomach, and shakiness happening on your knees. You wanted to tell him, talk to him, say that you weren’t comfortable, but you couldn’t speak. Your words were completely snatched away.

His brown eyes were staring into yours, as he guided your hand up, behind his head, and you felt the bun on top of it as you kept staring into his face. You didn’t know if you were red or pale at this point, but you needed to run away. He grabbed onto the tie of his bun with the tip of his finger, and pulled, letting his hair cascade around his face and on top of his shoulders.

Your eyes were wide, lungs contracting on themselves as the man before you became even more handsome than before just by letting his hair down. Your heart was breaking your chest open, because never in your life have you had an interaction like this before with a man. Not with someone as attractive as he was. Not with someone who was making your nerves go crazy in your whole body, making you hyper aware of everything around and how his eyes were staring down at you.

You were feeling your breath quicken as he guided your hand with his, downwards, under and you felt your fingertips run over his crop top and then towards the hem of it. You jumped slightly when you felt his skin under your hand, and you started feeling light headed, dizzy, and you needed air, god, you needed air. His face got close to you once again and you wanted to pull away, run, anything, you needed to leave and you couldn’t communicate it.

“No need to be shy with me sweetheart.” And his nose brushed with yours. He was going to kiss you. He was going to smash his lips with yours. He was going to close the distance. You were going to be able to taste him. You were going to have his scent go into your nose and fill your lungs completely with it. Your body will flush against his, press against his chest, his hips pressing against yours.

He was going to kiss you.

And you blacked out.

End of part

A/N: I always believed that if Barb and Billy remained alive and helped the group, they would definitely do the Enemies to Lovers thing. Like, yes.

Taglist is open!

Here are the songs for this part:

Steve's:

Billy's:

Eddie's:

3K notes · View notes

eternalbuckley · 2 months ago

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WISTERIA VINES. (an aemond targaryen series)

— chapter one: Your Romeo. Your Juliet.

SUMMARY: You and Aemond find out that you got the roles of Romeo and Juliet but didn't know yet about the other one. You only found out that Aemond will be Romeo through a phone call with Helaena. And Aemond got the news about you from his older brother. How do you both react to these news?

word count: 4,415

genre: just some tiny angst i think? | no specified reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, Y/N and they/them pronouns are used a few times, english is not my first language, slightly proofread and edited — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i'm more than excited to finally share the first chapter of this series. i've been working on this whole project for a while now and i really hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy creating it! this will be my last fanfic this year, so i hope you'll have a great start into the new year or had a great start (whenever you're reading this) <3 reblogs, feedback and comments are highly appreciated and welcomed! ♡

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. i don’t give you my permission to use my writing for any ai related things, don’t do it. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

dividers by saradika-graphics

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ navigation | wisteria vines masterlist | main hotg masterlist | series taglist

You nibbled nervously on your nails while you sat on your couch in front of your opened laptop, rocking with your leg as you waited for an e-mail from the production team that produces the ballet show of Romeo and Juliet of the upcoming ballet season. Ever since you’ve first seen a performance of this production, you wanted to be a part of the ballet as well, especially in the role of Juliet. You’ve always dreamed of it and worked hard for your dream.

You’ve already worked with the choreographer before and would love to be able to work with her again. You’ve worked with her on two different productions before; the Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty. You loved working with her and were fascinated by how she was able to put her visions into reality.

You first got into ballet shortly after you turned five and started having ballet classes. It didn’t fill you with joy in your early stage of being a ballet dancer, you sort of disliked it, but you grew to love the art of this dance over the years. One of the main reasons for falling in love with ballet was a performance you saw with your family in a theatre when you were almost seven years old. You were fascinated by the dancers, the costumes and the whole representation of the stage. It was magical for you and since then, you were determined to get better each day, hoping you’d be as good as the dancers you saw on stage. Eventually, you were allowed to use pointe shoes for the first time when you were thirteen years old – causing you to be the happiest person.

Officially, you have been a professional ballet dancer for a few years now. When you were seventeen, you had the opportunity to be able to dance in a bigger role in a Nutcracker production, which changed you into a better person and was a big step for your ballet career. It was one of your favourite times you’ve ever had, thanks to different people who were involved in the whole process.

“Come on…” You whispered to yourself and refreshed your e-mail inbox for the hundredth time today, hoping there would be an e-mail for the production. You wished there would be a positive message – a message which would tell you that you were a part of the production in the next ballet season. You’d be happy enough to be a part of the production in general, but your main aim was to get cast as Juliet. But after all, you would be happy either way.

You stood up with a sigh and walked into your kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. While you poured the water into your glass, you got a notification on your phone – an e-mail.

‘Casting Results for Romeo and Juliet’

You widened your eyes and immediately sat down your glass on the counter to sprint to your laptop and refresh your inbox to read the e-mail. Your pulse increased and your palms started sweating as your nerves almost exploded. You deeply breathed in, opened the e-mail and read the first lines.

“Hello Y/N,

we are more than happy to tell you that you have been selected as our Juliet for the Romeo and Juliet ballet of the following season. Congratulations!

The complete casting list will be released in the following days. The date for the first rehearsal will be sent to you with the official casting announcement – please make sure you’re prepared for everything!

Until then, relax as much as you can. We’re sure everything will be more than perfect this season! We’re very excited for it.

See you at the first rehearsal,

your production team :)”

You reread the lines multiple times, you couldn’t entirely believe it yet that your dream has just come true. “OH MY GOD!” You happily screamed out loud, jumping on the spot multiple times – you were more than happy. A few tears slipped out of your eyes while you unlocked your phone to call your best friend – Helaena Targaryen. Your hands shook a bit from feeling overwhelmed by the news.

You met her through ballet classes you took together when you were nine and ten years old, and you became best friends very quickly, grew up together and were inseparable. You were thankful to have her at your side. You were there for each other whenever you needed each other and built each other up whenever the other one wasn’t doing well. Especially when Helaena had a knee injury when she was eighteen and sadly had to give up on ballet. She wasn’t doing well mentally and lost her love for it. For a while, she tried to avoid it at every cost after her injury. Even you. You never blamed her for acting the way she did, you understood her. You would probably act the same way if you had to stop the thing you loved because of an injury.

It wasn’t an easy time for Helaena, but over time, she found other interests, and slowly got happier again when she discovered her interest in fashion and designing. It filled her with joy to create her own clothes and bring her ideas to life – it was Helaena’s passion. Being able to design clothes in the way she wanted brought her self-confidence back and gave her a voice. While you thrived in the world of ballet, she thrived in the world of fashion. You support each other in every step and success you’re able to make. Over the years, she had designed your costumes for different performances you were a part of. Seeing you in her creations whenever you danced on stage made her proud. Both of you moved in together shortly after your nineteenth birthday and had been living together for six years by now.

Your phone rang a few times until Helaena eventually appeared on your display. She wasn’t home because she was currently in Winterfell for a design job.

She smiled at you and leaned against the bed headboard in her hotel room. “Hi babe, what’s–“ Helaena began to speak but immediately sat up and gasped as soon as she saw your happy expression, “Did you get a part?!”

You nodded quickly while you walked over to the couch in your living room and sat down cross-legged. “YES! I will be a next Juliet,” you grinned proudly and excitedly while you put your phone against the plant pot that stood on the coffee table.

She clapped, “Oh my god, yes!! Congratulations, babe, you deserve it so so much,” she matched your excitement but then became a bit more serious for a moment, “Wait… Do you already know who your Romeo will be?”

You shook your head, “Not yet, the e-mail said that the complete casting list will be announced soon. I don’t know when, but I hope soon, and I hope it will be someone who’s…” You noticed her serious expression and how she nervously bit down on her lip, “Wait… What do you know?” You furrowed your eyebrows – you were confused.

“Nothing…” She cleared her throat to hide the nervous tone in her voice, but you knew she was lying because she wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“Helaena,” you said warningly, “Tell me what you know?”

She sighed and nodded her head. “Aemond just called me before you did,” she began, and your face faltered for a moment – you knew what this meant, “He will be your Romeo.”

“Oh… Uhh,” you cleared your throat in surprise, “That’s fine. Really. I’m sure it will be fine, I mean… He’s a wonderful dancer, and I adore his passion, but…”

“You’re afraid it will be weird between you? Considering that you’re not together anymore?” She interrupted you without a second thought. Her face showed sympathy as she asked you a question you tried to ignore for yourself.

Your shoulders were slightly slumped, and you nervously bit down on your lower lip. “Yeah,” you nodded slowly and shrugged. “But we’re professionals, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work through it in the next months. I doubt there will be any problems; we ended on good terms. In some way. We agreed to stay friends, remember?” You inhaled and put a few hair strands behind your ears.

“Babe,” she tilted her head, “You two can’t really be in the same room with each other. Every time you stare at each other like two lovesick puppies that obviously still love each other. When was it the last time you actually saw each other?”

You were aware that you and Aemond were extremely professional and wouldn’t let personal feelings ruin any experiences for your careers. But even if you agreed to stay friends and that you wouldn’t let any personal feelings between you, you had to stop dancing with him entirely. The weird tension between you was too heavy after your breakup. You and Aemond used to be dance partners, even before you got into a relationship. You only hoped it would end well.

“I don’t know. It probably has been a few months by now.” With an apprehensive sigh, you leaned against the backrest of your couch and placed a cushion on your lap to play with the fabric. “And besides, the moments you mentioned probably happened shortly after we broke up. I’m sure he and I moved on and can be professional. You know how important our careers are for us.”

Helaena hummed teasingly and nodded her head, “Of course, of course…. I’ll pretend I believe it now.” She chuckled as you rolled your eyes and huffed. If she were here, you’d have thrown the cushion at her. “Whatever! This only means that I’ll finally be able to design another dress for you,” she smiled and clapped excitedly. You chuckled and smiled at her through the screen, her excitement made you happier.

You talked for a few more minutes with her before she had to end the call because she got called by one of her clients. You sighed after the call ended. This was not what you had planned. This was not what you thought would happen. You weren’t exactly sure how to feel about it that you’d be dancing together with Aemond, especially in such a story as Romeo and Juliet. If you were honest, it didn’t bother you that you’d have to dance with him, but you were nervous. More than nervous that something might not work out in the way it should be.

You weren’t lying when you told Helaena that you and Aemond decided to stay friends, but she wasn’t lying either. You barely saw each other or were able to stay in the same room for long without staring at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. There were still feelings between you. Feelings that both of you tried to ignore and deny, even if it was obvious that they were still there. Especially to Helaena – she knew what you and Aemond still felt for each other. She deeply hoped that you would get closer again someday and maybe be honest with yourselves and each other.

You met Aemond and the rest of Helaena’s family when you were having a sleepover at her place for the first time when you were ten – it was like a little celebration of your friendship. During the first years of your friendship with Helaena, you barely talked with Aemond or any of her brothers, you barely knew them, only the things Helaena had told you about back then. The interests were too different, even if Aemond was into ballet and a ballet dancer as well. You couldn’t really find a way to connect with him.

Surprisingly, you had talked with Aegon more than with Aemond, despite the slight age gap. Aegon was like an older brother to you and treated you like a second sister – even if he technically had two already. He was happy to see that Helaena had someone who shared her interests and didn’t judge her for the way she was. You had met the other half of their family only a handful of times so far. Even if everyone tried to be polite with each other as much as they could, you were able to notice the tension between everyone – some had more and some had less tension, but it was there.

But over the years and the older you were, you grew closer to Aemond and became friends. You found interest in each other and realised that both of you had sides inside you that neither of you were aware of. You had been spending more time with him after Helaena had her injury and wasn’t able to dance anymore. Whenever you weren’t with her, you spent your time in the studio with her younger brother. You started to like him more after you got to know each other better. You trusted him, he trusted you. Both of you motivated each other for your dancing and after some time, you tried to dance together, and it was like you were made for each other. Dancing with him always seemed more than easy and the chemistry between you made it even more magical. You supplemented each other, which resulted in both of you being able to dance in a Nutcracker production together when you two were seventeen. It was the start of the best time of your lives.

Both of you were able to turn your hobby into your career and danced together in many productions, even the teams behind every production were mesmerised by the chemistry between you. Many times, you were asked by other dancers if you two were in a relationship – which you had to deny every time. Although, you had a crush on each other, but you never told each other, even if everyone around you seemed to notice the underlying feelings between you.

Especially Helaena noticed it, then and even now, and she loved teasing you about it. Even Daeron and Aegon seemed to notice something after some time. They cracked jokes about it many times before, about how well you’d fit together. Both of them didn’t even notice the glares Aemond gave them or how his and your cheeks heated up. Nevertheless, it took some more time until Aemond got the courage to officially ask you out on a date when you were rehearsing for a production. You didn’t realise in the first place that he was asking you out but once you did, you agreed happily.

You were the one who was able to bring out a happier and more cheerful side of Aemond, one he mostly only shared and barely let out due to different things that had happened in his life. Especially since he was ten years old and got into an incident with his younger nephew and lost his left eye to it. Since then, he has been wearing a prosthetic eye, which brought him his own difficulties from time to time. There had been days when the pain would be unbearable for him, and nothing could help him to ease the pain. Before he had been with you, he wanted to get through this alone and show everyone that he was strong enough, but he slowly let you comfort him and be there for him, the more he trusted you. But even then, there had been days when he pushed you away and wanted to be alone.

In your presence, he was mostly able to forget about his burdens and worries and could feel peaceful because of you. Especially whenever you danced together, he was much calmer and able to forget about his problems during these moments. He may have gotten rude comments about him being a ballet dancer from different people throughout the years, but he paid them no attention. Ballet saved his life in a way only you could understand.

Luckily, your relationship didn’t end because anything negative happened between you. It was rather a decision the two of you had made together almost a year ago, so both of you could focus more on your careers as ballet dancers without any distractions. You had been quite busy with your schedules and barely saw each other that much anymore, given that you and Aemond had to work on different performances and were busy with your training, classes or rehearsals all day. At the time, it was the better decision to part ways and stay friends.

Even if that worked in some way, neither of you wasn’t truly able to move on. Even if you had agreed to stay friends and act normally, it wasn’t easy to see each other afterwards. You kind of grew apart even more and only saw each other rarely. Before and during your relationship, Aemond used to visit you and Helaena a lot, but after your breakup, he rarely stepped into your and Helaena’s apartment. Only if he knew that you weren’t there.

It hurt Helaena to see her younger brother and her best friend growing apart like that, she felt kind of helpless. She didn’t want to get between you, but she understood your decision and tried to be there for each of you as much as she could. Even if it could be difficult for her sometimes – she tried her best, and so did you and Aemond.

After a while of thinking about old memories, you cleared your throat and got up from the couch to distract yourself. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your day thinking about your ex-boyfriend and what you experienced together. You wanted to focus more on being happy that you were finally going to have the opportunity of your life – you were a next Juliet in the ballet world.

You walked into your kitchen and took a sip from the glass you poured yourself before you received the email with the news of the casting. Your phone lit up with a message from Aegon – he congratulated you on getting the part in the production. You smiled and shook your head, Helaena must have texted or called him after her call with her client. You quickly opened the message and replied to him before you started to cook yourself dinner.

Meanwhile, Aemond cut some vegetables for his dinner and was on the phone with Aegon. He just told him that he got the part of Romeo and was more than excited to start the rehearsals – but Aemond didn’t know yet that you were going to be his Juliet. He hoped that the other dancers he’d work with would be as professional as he was.

“How was the first concert, by the way?” Aemond asked his older brother and got a pan out of his kitchen counter – fully unaware that Aegon was texting you.

Aemond furrowed his eyebrows when Aegon remained silent, “Brother?” He placed the pan on the stove and continued to cut the vegetables.

“Hmm? Yeah?” Aegon cleared his throat on the other side of the phone, “Sorry, what did you say?” He changed the position of his body while lying on the couch of his hotel room, a quiet groan leaving his lips as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“Your first concert… How was it?” Aemond repeated his question with a short sigh and added the vegetables to his pan and turned on the stove. But he didn’t get a reply again, which caused him to snap slightly, “Aegon, are you even listening, or what are you so busy with?” Aemond hated it when his brother wasn’t listening or was only half-listening.

“I’m just–“ Aegon paused and thought about his next words for a moment before he continued, “I’m wondering… How does it feel for you to know that you’ll dance with Y/N again?” He furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

Aemond stopped his movements, and the grip on his knife tightened with Aegon’s question. “I have no idea what you mean?” He hoped that he just misunderstood Aegon, that it was just some mistake, but how could it be a mistake? Aegon used your name, he must mean you, it could only be you. The words echoed in his mind as he gulped with the consideration that Aegon was telling the truth – that he’d have to dance with you again after everything that happened.

Aegon chuckled nervously. ‘Didn’t he already know that he’d have to dance with Y/N?’ He asked himself and cleared his throat. “I uhh…,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he couldn’t save himself anymore, “Helaena called me before you did and told me that Y/N got the part of Juliet. And you’ll be Romeo. So… They’re your Juliet. I thought… You already knew.”

Aemond stared at his cutting board, did he hear his brother correctly? You were going to be Juliet? No, he must have misheard something, right? This newfound information caused him to stay quiet for a few moments. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information. On one side, he was happy that he got the part of Romeo, but it meant to dance with you. He felt conflicted about it, he knew that dancing with you always felt magical and easy, but he wasn’t sure how it would be after everything that had happened. Even if it has been a year since the end of your relationship, he didn’t know what to expect. He should’ve expected that this could happen, but he didn’t.

“I certainly didn’t know that at all. I only got the news of my part…. They’ll announce the complete list of dancers soon, but I didn’t know about Y/N.”

“Sorry, I–“

Aemond cut him off and shook his head, even if Aegon wouldn’t see it. “Do you know if they know that we will... You know,” he cleared his throat, he felt somewhat tense, “Dance together?”

“I don’t know, perhaps?” Aegon replied, quite unsure of his answer, “If you already have told our sister about it, then I’m quite sure that Y/N knows too by now.”

Aemond hummed and pursed his lips. Should he text you and congratulate you on getting the part for Juliet, or should he wait until you see each other for rehearsal? But what if you didn’t know yet that he would be your Romeo and that you’d find out because of him? It could be strange. After all, he knew what the whole Romeo and Juliet ballet meant to you, so it wouldn’t be weird to congratulate you for getting the role you always wanted, right? But he wasn’t sure if he should reach out to you after all.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll prepare my dinner now. I’m sure that you… Must prepare for your show tonight. Bye,” he quickly ended the call and let out a desperate sigh. This wasn’t how he thought he’d spend his next months.

You haven’t seen each other in months, how would things be between you two? He was excited about the production if he was thinking about his career, but he was nervous about his personal feelings.

Later that evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch of your living room, one of your favourite blankets wrapped around your body while a movie was playing on the TV in the background. You shivered a bit, even if the room was warmed up by the fireplace. But you weren’t sure if you shivered because you were cold or because you were feeling nervous. You stared at the screen of your phone, eyeing the chat with Aemond – you were considering if you should text him or not. After all, you were about to spend your next months together, almost every day until the last performance at least. It wouldn’t hurt to text him quickly, right? But did he even know about you being his Juliet?

Your thumb hovered over the chat with him, your nerves causing your hands to sweat a bit, and your pulse beat strongly in your ears. It was just a simple text; it shouldn’t be anything you should worry about. But your pulse was still beating strongly, your mind flooded with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Little did you know that Aemond was in the same situation as you while he was lying in his bed. His blanket covered half of his body while only the small lamp on his nightstand brought some light into his bedroom. One arm was placed under his head while he held his phone in his other hand. His thumb hovered over your chat as well. He desperately wanted to text you and let you know how happy he was for you that you were going to be Juliet. He was happy for you, but the thought of dancing with you caused his nerves to hit him deep inside. Aemond rarely felt nervous, but if it involved you? Completely different. You made him feel things no one else could, even after your breakup and not having seen each other in a while. The thought of you increased his pulse immediately.

After some more thinking, both of you tossed your phones away, letting out a long and exasperated sigh. Both of you covered your faces with your hands while your shoulders relaxed. This wouldn’t be easy. If you couldn’t even text each other a simple ‘Congrats’, how should things go when you would dance together? How were you supposed to spend your days together in such intimate moments? You’d have to be close – very close with each other and trust the other one. You were sure you could trust each other, but you were afraid of what else might happen.

And that’s when it hit both of you all of a sudden – he immediately sat up, his shoulders tensed while yours did as well as you both realised what it meant to be dancing as Romeo and Juliet.

You’d probably have to kiss each other.

On stage.

In front of so many people who would watch the performances.

It would most probably be a part of the choreography, and neither of you could change it, even if you could – neither of you wanted it to be changed, either. It is such a delicate moment between the characters and displays the feelings between them – it would be foolish to erase that moment. The next months surely would be interesting.

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badaseyebags · 6 months ago

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private lessons ⋆｡°✩ chapter 4 ⟢

warnings: poor writing as i had a lot going on and low-key forgot i was even working on anything, new character makes an appearance, tiny bit of angst

word count: around 1,8k

authors note: y’all i’m not dead yet unfortunately, anyways here’s to all the baddies that are still reading 🫶🏻 you have a special spot in my heart (right next to bada’s eyebags) - 🍞

little shoutout to @luvleyk for motivating me to write again 🫶🏻

your feet swung around as you slowly sipped on your iced coffee, lips lightly wrapped around a glass straw. you thanked bada for the sweet treat, while bada thanked herself for deciding to take you here. what she deemed as a “nice gesture” was a way of preventing herself from straight up pouncing on you. you weren’t the only one who’s had sleepless nights after your “private lessons” with her. she’s reminded of it every time she walks past her dining table, sits down to eat or drinks her coffee. she keeps reminding herself to not let this go too far, not to fall in too deep, before it’s too late. she has a reputation to keep. she knows she can’t go all in, just yet. and being in a public setting saved her from doing so.

if she wasn’t your teacher could this be considered a date? you thought to yourself looking up at her, stealing glances at her and seeing her give you a soft smile in exchange. you look down immediately, shaking off the thought as it made you realise the situation. why do you always forget the actual reason she meets up with you? freaking tutoring. she’s your goddamn teacher, get a grip you crazy woman.

“oh my, is the coffee that good?” she chuckles, catching you off guard with her hand resting on her chin as she admires you, making you snap back to reality and realise you’ve been sucking on air for a while as you’ve already finished your coffee without noticing. you mentally face palm, closing your eyes in embarrassment, letting the straw go in a swift motion. “umm yeah! it was! i think they maybe might be putting… something illegal in it-“ you tried covering up your act of distraction once again.

“aww, even better than the one i made for you? that’s such a pity. i made it with love.” she fake pouts, pretending to act hurt by your words. “no! what? definitely not! doesn’t even stand a chance! yours was soooo much better, i just didn’t get the chance to fully drink it because i-“ here you go mumbling again, being too honest because you’re nervous. thankfully you stopped yourself before you could embarrass yourself even further, but fate of course made other plans for you.

“poor thing, couldn’t finish her coffee because her lips were too busy tasting mine. is that it?” she chuckles enjoying the way your eyes widen slightly, back to sipping on the straw with nonexistent coffee, the ice making your overheated brain freeze. oh how she loved teasing you, the way your body and face respond to her without you having to say a single word. she wouldn’t admit how weak she was for it, for you. “i’m just messing with you sweetie, we both know that was my fault.” she assures you, hand smoothing over yours gently. as she enjoyed your company, she almost didn’t notice the strange figure standing across the table, looking at the both of you from a sight distance. what the hell is he doing here? she shoots him a warning glare, not going unnoticed by your admiring eyes, filling them with worry.

“huh?” you turn your head in curiosity, trying to follow her gaze, but she grabbed a hold of your chin before you could do so. you could only look up at her, confusion painting your features. “shh.. don’t you worry about that, sweetie. it’s someone not important. you don’t have to wrap your mind around it.” your eyebrow furrowed in more confusion, causing her to coo at you. “i don’t want you to stress your poor little brain. it’s just someone from the past. but you’re my present, okay? that’s what matters.” she leans in closer, whispering to you reassuringly. oh.. is it her ex? you were so curious what she looks like, why they broke up, and why she doesn’t want you to see her in the first place. is it because you’re her student? is it because she’s just playing around with you? you’d surely hope not..

many questions flood your mind as you hear footsteps approaching you, seeing her face twist in pure irritation. “stay still for me, princess.” she mumbles under her breath as her thumbs make their way against your lip, the rest of her hand cupping your face as she presses her lips against them, the barrier between your lips both electrifying and slightly confusing. oh how you wish to feel her lips against yours, to have them stained bright red instead of her thumbs that shielded them..

she strokes your lip gently as you obey, closing your eyes monumentally. you hear a rough voice scoffing mumbling out a few curse words. huh..? a man? it’s a man? her ex is a man?!! your eyes open, searching for hers in approval as she nods at you, her lip stroking your bottom lip as she slowly pulls away. “good girl, did so well for me without asking..” she offers you a relieved smile as the figure walks from her sight, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “mrs. lee who was-“ you try asking her what this was all about, but she shushes you with a simple word. “nono, you don’t get to ask any questions right now. as i said.. don’t wrap your pretty head about it, hm? such a pretty girl shouldn’t worry about things like these.” you chew on your bottom lip, nodding at her despite feeling slightly hurt by her actions. why didn’t she just kiss you for real then.. is it because you’re in public? did she not want to? or did she just use you to make her ex jealous? so many questions flooded your mind but she was quick to calm you down, grabbing your hand and gently guiding you up, taking you back to her car. you sigh thinking you ruined the mood and she’s going to take you home. she opens the door for you, and sits down next to you, not putting on a seatbelt on either of you, puzzling your mind.

“now tell me what’s on your mind honey, what’s making you sad?” she turns her body to you, giving you all her attention. oh, she took you here for your comfort and privacy, what a woman. you chew on your bottom lip, looking at her red painted lips and back at her eyes. “why.. did you pretend to kiss me?” you stutter out, trying not to sound weak. your question caught her off guard, her eyebrows raising in panic. “i’m sorry sweetie, i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, i should have warned you.”

you shake your head fast, tears threatening to fall any second. “that’s not that i mean..” you look down, trying to keep yours emotions in check. why were you getting so hurt over such a thing? it’s not like you’re a couple or anything. “what did you mean, sweetie? come on, use your words.” she lifts your head with her finger on your chin, eyes meeting yours. how can she fluster you in such a situation?

“why didn’t you kiss me for real? were you ashamed.. or something?” you manage to get out as tears cloud your vision, feeling pathetic for having such feelings. she gasps not expecting your reason to be this, she was afraid you didn’t like the fact she tried to kiss you, yet the truth was far from that. “oh you silly little thing.. you thought i didn’t want to kiss you? the only reason i took you there was to restrain myself from kissing you again” she frowns seeing yours tears. “baby.. i would never want to make you cry..” she speaks out gently, her thumb stroking your cheek, rubbing at the tears staining them. “at least not in this way…” you look up at her with teary eyes, lost and about to question her words, but she crashes her lips against yours, making you gasp. more tears slide down your cheeks as you finally feel her lips on yours after what felt like ages of agony and torture of not tasting them. the faint aftertaste of bitterness from the coffee coating your palate becoming sweetly addicting to you. she strokes your cheek, hand gripping your jaw as she deepens the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as she swallows it all up. the windows of her car becoming foggy with every passing second of her lips devouring you. she pulls away, her eyes slightly watery at the sight of your tears drying up on your cheeks as she pulls you into her lap, her uneven breathing matching yours like a melody.

“never… say that again…“ she breathes out, the grip on your jaw becoming stronger as she pulls your head in closer against her lips again, coating them in tender kisses. “how could i not want to kiss you? do you even know how hard is it for me not to push you up against my table and kiss you ever time you walk into the classroom? claim you as mine? let everyone know you only belong to me?” you gasp looking up at her, her red lipstick smeared across both of your lips as you shake your head at her question.

“exactly sweetheart, you have no idea about so many things.. and they aren’t for little girls like you to worry about. be a good girl and leave them to mommy.” she breathes against your lips, hand gripping your waist making you feel like putty in her hands, being able to only nod at her command. you swear you feel yourself getting dizzy, the earlier feelings of sadness long gone and replaced by extreme waves of warmth spreading through out your whole body. she gives you one last passionate kiss, this one more gentle than the previous ones as she pulls away, resting her head on top of your head, twirling at your hair as you try to calm your breathing.

“you fit so nicely in my lap, you know that?” you blush at her remark, hands wrapped around her neck as you look up at her with glossy eyes, fingers reaching out to rub at the corners of her smudged lips, wiping away at the messed up lipstick the same way she did when you first kissed. “then don’t let me leave it..” you whisper, feeling one of her hands grip your waist harder as she looks at you in awe. as if she was in a trance. whatever spell you put on her was working, you’ve officially broken her and made her melt. all hopes and plans she had beforehand were no longer a choice, thrown out the window along with any rational thinking as she crashed her lips against yours once more, hand cradling your head, unable to hold back her desire anymore.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #swf2 x reader #bada lee fluff #bada lee smut #bada lee imagine #team bebe x reader #bada lee swf2 #bada lee angst #bada lee scenario

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residentcelery · 2 months ago

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January 8th, 2018. I posted the first chapter of A Lesson in Practicality. I was writing as an escape at the time and wanted to get back into stories.

I said I was planning on updating soon but since the chapter isn't yet ready (and I completely forgot about the anniversary), here's a small bit to tease for the next chapter.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and has been patient these past few years.

So... how about a small teaser for now? Enjoy!

Virgil stood from his spot on the floor, stumbling slightly as his legs were almost asleep. “Wait, so you just thought all that out? By yourself?”

Roman broke from his ‘heroic’ pose to gasp, turning back to Virgil. “Wha–excuse me! What is that supposed to mean?”

Virgil crossed his arms and scrunched his nose a bit in thought. After a moment of silence, he shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. I mean, Logan is your best friend, right? His smarts probably started to rub off on you.”

Aghast, Roman was speechless, mouth agape. He huffed and stomped his foot in place like a child throwing a tantrum. “Excuse me! I, for one, am smart enough to come up with plans on my own without you having to be so surprised, thank you very much! And another thing, Logan is not–!” Roman paused, red in the face, before letting out a huge sigh. “Ah, who am I kidding? He’s totally my best friend, isn’t he? I can’t even deny that one.”

Virgil smiled victoriously and closed the gap between the two. “Okay, well, how about we start planning where to go from here?”

#celery talks #ALiP spoilers #ALiP teaser

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susiekern · 2 months ago

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6. the one with the dm

a/n: hi so I'm dumb and forgot to add the small text part to chapter 4 so if anyone's interested, check it out! it's not really that important so it doesn't change much if you don't

warnings: swearing

word count: 755 (but with quite few texts that I don't count in)

lyrics from: Rain - Sleep Token

masterlist

previous | next

For the past month, you’ve only seen Megumi during your regular meetings on the rooftop or passing him in the corridor. When asked about it, he simply said he spends most of the days at the studio, recording music for some artist who hired him as a guitarist for their new album. Between the rooftop and corridor, the only signs he was still alive were a few messages and sounds of him practicing behind your wall. Sounds that you got used to and started to enjoy. At least for the most part.

“Sorry for the noise, guys, he’s just wrapping it up.” You say to your viewers and focus back on choosing the game for tonight’s stream. “Should we do that card trading sim? It looked fun when we played the demo.”

With the game chosen and in the process of installing, you fill the time answering the chat and drinking your coffee.

zeyde_: hot neighbor back at it

sammie: is hot neighbor actually hot, tho

y/nsmarshmalow: she never confirmed, no?

sammie: Y/N IS HE HOTTT?

“Well, I can’t say he’s bad-looking. Depends how you define hot.” Shrugging, you smile a little. They’d flip if they knew.

sammie: okay miss avoiding the answer.

eleffa32: am I flipping, or is that the same sound from Yuji’s stream

rooney_: hot neighbor reveal pls pls pls

sammie: @/eleffa32 no literally, my bf is watching his stream next to me and IT’S THE SAME

eleffa32: stfu are you guys living together?

plumbobo: YUJI X Y/N CONFIRMED?!

You almost spit your coffee all over the desk reading this, and you don’t know whether you should laugh or cry. Not again.

“Yuji and y/n neighbors confirmed, guys; the hot one you like so much is his roommate. Chill out.” Deciding to laugh, you inform the chat and wipe the coffee from your chin. A few moments later, your game is ready to be turned on, and miraculously, Megumi stops playing right when you click on it. Typing a quick thanks to him, you tune back into the stream for the next three hours. The game turns out to be a nice one, perfect for a calm Sunday evening. You decide to slowly finish the night when Nobara texts you that she’s going back home with food for the both of you, so you go through the last few questions.

sammie: y/nnn, have you heard that new song The Fallen released yesterday???

“Yes, I’ve listened to it like twenty times already!”

When you woke up on Saturday, the last thing you expected was a notification about your beloved band releasing a new song. There was no forecast about it on their social media, not even one post; it just randomly showed up on Spotify, and the fandom went crazy. Was it planned? Leaked? Does this mean the new album is coming soon?

“It’s amazing, like everything they released. I swear, Zenin was chosen by gods to be the scribe, because how could a mortal human write something as good as their lyrics? There’s this part, ‘I know what I am, the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb.’ I got chills hearing it, seriously. I would do anything to talk to this man about his lyrical genius.” You sigh and lean back in the chair, reading messages from your followers who express their opinions on the song. There’s a knock on the door, and Kugisaki peeks into your room.

“I got dinner, you nerd.” She says and comes closer, waving to the camera.

rooney_: NOBARA HIIII

eleffa32: omg hi queen

zeyde_: QUICK QUESTION

zeyde_: IS THE HOT NEIGHBOR ACTUALLY HOT???

“Hi, guys! Eh, I would say he’s okay. Not my type.” She shakes her head and leans on your chair back. “Sorry for busting in, but I need to feed this one, since she won’t do it herself.”

“You’ve heard the boss. Thank you for joining me tonight, and I’ll see you on Tuesday!” You smile and wave to the camera before turning off the stream. Nobara goes to the kitchen to prep the food, and you stay back to turn off your setup. Soon you’re both splayed on the couch, eating the takeout of her choice and paying half-mind to some rom-com she turned on the TV. Finishing your meal, you put the bowl on the coffee table and grab your phone for the first time since finishing the stream. There are a few notifications, but only two catch your eye. Texts from Yuji and a DM on Instagram.

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115

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shogunish · 11 months ago

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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟲]

synopsis. all that mattered was the taste of strawberries and whip cream on your lips and his hand caressing the nape of your neck.

words. 2.8k

warnings. none

note. IT'S FINALLY HERE 🥳 i hope you guys have as much fun reading this chapter as i had writing it 🥹🥹

previous || next || masterlist

as you thought, you didn’t belong to these sorts of people.

grandeur surrounded you like the sea encapsulated an island in the middle of nowhere.

men dressed in expensive suits filled the dimly-lit hall with their wives hanging on to their arms like the finest jewelry. waiters and waitresses alike steered their way through the crowd with practiced ease and grace in their feet all while carrying a silver platter around, giving champagne away like candy and offering little treats.

such things were foreign; you only had seen such things on tv and for a moment, you felt somewhat intimidated by the sheer scent of money in the air. sometimes, you forgot that satoru worked for a great company, enjoying a high ranking and an even greater paycheck if his tailored suit was anything to go by.

“you look amazing,” satoru reassured you with a whisper in your ear. “don’t be afraid. i’ll be with you all the way.”

and his words did soothe your worries, but not the rapid pounding in your heart. maybe you wouldn’t feel so light-headed if satoru didn’t wear this damned suit and didn’t add a hint of his cologne on his neck and wrists. even his hair was styled and you swore you had suffered a heart attack when you first laid your eyes on him.

smoothly, with your palms clasped around his arm, satoru guided you through the crowd like he had never done anything else. a pinch of pride shone in his eyes; not only did you look stunning, but you also wore the dress he had picked for you.

“it’s too expensive,” you had argued with a pout on your lips when you saw the price tag still attached to the graceful thing. “i can’t possibly wear that.”

and look at you now, turning the heads of his colleagues as he showed up with you.

like a ship in the vast sea, satoru steered you from person to person just to exchange some pleasantries and introduce you to those he worked with for the majority of the time. to your surprise, it was easier than you initially believed. occasionally, he even snuck a little snack from the platters and shared the small treats with you.

it was at these times that your satoru shone through the cracks of the styled businessman in your hands.

everything was going smoothly until your not-date date suddenly got stolen away by some chubby business man in his fifties and drowned in the sea of people and lights and grandeur.

“satoru?” you called out softly, worry in your eyes when you realized he wouldn’t hear you over the soft tunes spilling from the speakers.

damnit.

how hard was it to find a 1,90m man with white hair and dazzling blue eyes in a crowd of people? yeah, you were surprised as well when you found out it was indeed hard.

heels clacked against the polished marble floor when you found yourself at the bar, giving up on finding satoru for the time being. next to you, three ladies chatted amongst themselves. draped in diamonds and silver, they gleamed in the dim lighting of the grand hall like they were gems themselves. their eyes found yours when they appeared to recognize you.

“oh, you have to be gojo’s date for tonight, right?” lady #1 chirped in kind and mildly surprised tones. you recognized her; she was the wife of one of the businessmen satoru had introduced you to earlier. at least one face was somewhat familiar.

“i think it’s the first time gojo brought a woman with him, right?” the second lady added with a glass of champagne in her manicured fingers.

you perked up. “excuse me? the first time? i fear i don’t quite follow..”

lady #3 sat back in the bar stool and flashed you a smirk, her lips painted a deep burgundy as she spoke, “gojo’s never shown up in the company of another woman. many have tried to become his plus one, but he always brushed them off.”

“yeah, you should’ve seen everyone’s faces when he first started talking about you and how well you get along with his son. lots of hearts were broken that afternoon,” lady #1 giggled as your face fell into disbelief.

sure, you suspected that satoru was popular with the ladies. not only was he handsome to the bone, but he could provide a stable life, he was funny, charming, smart and– you were getting carried away.

before a response could make it out, the topic suddenly shifted when one of the ladies realized she hadn’t shown off her newest necklace which glimmered and split the lights into the colors of the rainbow.

at this moment, you realized that you truly didn’t belong in the same boat as them when they talked about tiffany’s jewelry, mansions, vacations in malaysia and venice. the topic of satoru and his lack of female company was wiped clean from the shared canvas of their mind and was instead painted with problems and luxuries you couldn’t even dream of having.

luxury meant for you ordering takeout twice a month when the delivery app had some sort of sale going on.

satoru’s strong arm wraps itself around you like a blanket of comfort as he sweeps into the conversation with one of his charming smiles. the eyes of those women were as drawn to satoru like a flock of moths to the flame as he spoke in soft, suave tones that had even your heart beating a tad bit faster. a bit harder.

“excuse me, but i fear i must steal my lovely lady from you.” satoru flashed them a gentle smile and left the women giggling amongst themselves as he guided you towards the balcony, away from all the hustle and bustle, away from unnecessary attention that wasn’t his.

the moon hung high in the sky in its entirety, filling out the dark heavens above as it watched over countless twinkling dots. below the balcony railing, city lights glimmered in bright neon colors. streets were alive with as many people as there were stars in the sky and yet all of them seemed so far away when you finally breathed.

“sorry.” satoru broke the beat of silence before he combed his fingers through his snowy hair. leaning against the steel railing, he looked handsome. the moonlight caressed his features with the touch of a lover while those cerulean irises bathed in the infinity of the skies. or so you thought. “i didn’t expect anyone to need my attention tonight when it was reserved for you."

heat rose to the apples of your cheeks and suddenly, your heart was pounding underneath your ribs. this feeling budding in the core of your heart was blooming with each word satoru said. especially tonight.

there was no child to take care of. no stomach aches that made you feel horrible.

in this little corner, you found a glimpse of paradise with satoru by your side.

“don’t worry about it,” you said, resting your elbows on the railing and letting your eyes drift towards satoru like he was pulling you into his orbit. “you must be really important when you’re stolen away from me in the blink of an eye.” up until this moment, satoru didn’t know that a chuckle could be like silk in the form of sound and dribble into his ears like warm honey.

leaning closer to you, satoru bumped his shoulder against yours – or rather his biceps. even slumped over, he was still taller than you.

“so tell me, have you been gossipping about me while i was gone?” it was a light-hearted joke, you knew, and still you had half the heart to let satoru know that you would never talk about him behind his back.

you shook your head, eyes crinkling at the edges as you gave satoru a smile. “not about you. but they had a lot to say about their men.”

that seemed to pique satoru’s curiosity if his cheeky grin and the twitch of his ears was anything to go by. a funny look was painted all over your face; one that made satoru only more curious than he already was.

“don’t look at me like that.” he almost pouts. almost. “you can’t just say you got some juicy details on my colleagues and then seal your lips shut.”

fuck. if anything, you wanted him to seal your lips shut. ever since you had laid your eyes on satoru, dressed in that tailored suit which accentuated the slimness of his waist..your thoughts decided to wander and they wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

“my man and i argued and he got me a tiffany’s necklace. my man gifted me this dress, my man gave me this, my man gave me that,” you mocked voices, tone going up by a pitch before you ended the show with a sigh slipping past your lips. those ladies weren’t bad people, but gods were they exhausting. “it felt like a competition.”

“what, don’t tell me you’re jealous.” a teasing lilt lingered in satoru’s voice. he couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face when you shivered and pouted your glossy lips. if only you were his..he’d pin you against the railing and kiss you stupid until your lipgloss was smeared all over his lips.

“of them? never.” shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you leaned your weight against satoru’s strong frame and basked in the way his warmth seeped through the fine fabric of his suit and into your pores, keeping you warm and toasty. “i don’t need fancy things to have a happy relationship.”

acting on auto-pilot, satoru rested his arm around your waist and pulled you a little tighter against him. “well..what would you need to be happy?”

now that was a question you had never given much thought. the only answer that you could come up with sparked the butterflies in your tummy to life. right then and there, you swore you were a silly teenager again who had come face to face with her crush and there was nowhere to hide.

you didn’t know if the goosebumps on your skin came from the pounding of your heart or the chilly breeze passing by.

“..maybe someone who can communicate his feelings. someone who’s fun but can be serious when the time calls for it. someone who buys me a year worth of pads and prepares a hot water bottle for me. someone who eats so many sweets that it’s a miracle he doesn’t have diabetes yet.”

usually, satoru would like to tease you and say something so cheesy that you were certain you’d regret opening up to him, but he just looked at you with those infinitely deep eyes that glimmered in the moonlight. his hold around your waist tightened.

“you know, i think i’d also be happy with someone who gets along with megumi and doesn’t know how to use my stove. someone who laughs when i buy all the pads with wings and dozes off on my shoulder. someone who brought cookies when she asked if she could help me watch over megumi.”

a smile, that of a lovestruck fool, graced satoru’s lips as you stared at him with round eyes and shock written all over your face. for a moment, he feared you’d ask “me?” like you didn’t even dare to think that satoru could be into you when it was so painfully obvious that it was you.

the moment he saw you standing at his door with that batch of cookies in your hands, he knew it was you.

“gojo, there you are! there’s that man i wanna introduce you to.” one of his colleagues popped the intimate bubble satoru had carefully crafted for the two of you. bubbles were meant to pop eventually, but this was probably the worst timing ever. “oh, you can bring your girlfriend, too! he’ll be delighted to see her!”

this was the hellish equivalent of getting cock-blocked, he thought.

apologies swam in the irises of satoru’s eyes as he furrowed his brows and let out a defeated sigh. he would get his chance. and it’d be tonight.

“shall we?” satoru offered you a hand which you gratefully took before he led you back inside.

an hour or two later, you found your arms looped around satoru’s biceps as he escorted you back home. street lamps lined up next to the concrete going through the park illuminated the space around you, adding a golden glow to satoru, to you, to the feelings that wouldn’t stop growing.

you only took a break on a bench when you mentioned the ache in your feet. walking around in heels for an entire evening, for hours on end, was not one of your many (hidden) talents.

words of memories past fell from your lips like honey as you recalled something about you changing shoes in the middle of an important event.

if satoru was honest to himself, he wasn’t truly paying attention to what you were saying. he did add an occasional hum of approval or offered a chuckle, but what he really focused on was the glimmer in your eyes, the sound of your voice, the way your hair fell. you were imperfect, he knew, but to him, you were perfect for him from head down to your pinky toe.

he wanted it all. he wanted it all for himself.

“..and then there was– oh.” following your line of sight, satoru spotted a small food stall illuminated from within and occupied by an elderly lady who seemed to be distracted by the malfunctioning radio. but that wasn’t what stood out – it was the strawberry crepes being sold.

“you want some, don’t you?” satoru chuckled, cerulean eyes glowing even in the dim lights of the street lamps lined up right beside the two of you.

“how did you know?” you inquired with curiosity laced in your voice.

shrugging his shoulders, satoru smirked. “you’ve been with megumi and me for a while now. it’d be a shame if i didn’t know what you wanted just from a glance.”

you couldn’t protest when satoru already strolled over to the elderly lady and ordered two strawberry crepes. gladly, the lady prepared the sweet treat and even added some extra whipped cream for satoru as if she could sense his sweet tooth. within mere ten minutes, the crepes were done, warm and adorned with ripe slices of scarlet strawberries.

sauntering back to you, satoru handed you your crepe, sat down right next to you and enjoyed the first bite which was as messy as it was sweet. a frown was etched onto satoru’s features as he dropped a strawberry onto the ground. a sweet treat forever lost and never to be savored as god intended.

taking note of satoru’s misery, you offered him one of your strawberries with a gentle smile adorning the curve of your lips. “here. you can have mine.”

“are you sure? it’s your strawberry after all.” who would’ve known that an insignificant thing such as a strawberry would bring a blush to his cheeks? sky blue eyes blinked once, twice at the fruit between your fingers before settling on your face. this was the chance he had been waiting for all evening, he realized.

“you’ve got some whipped cream on your lips.”

“huh?” hastily, you rushed to wipe your lips with your index finger and when you were done, you lifted your face again for further inspection. “is it gone?”

oh, how sweet you were. amused, satoru shook his head. “no. right there.”

nimble fingers tilted your face upwards while cerulean irises gazed into the cracks of your soul as satoru leaned in, closed the gap and sealed your lips with his own.

for a moment, your muscles froze. was this truly happening? was satoru actually kissing you? or was this another one of your daydreams right before he dropped you off at your doorstep? no, it was better than a mere daydream – it was reality.

fingertips twitched, needing to hold his face, his shoulders, anything. but before you could even lift a finger, satoru pulled away with a smile on his soft lips and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “this is much better than a strawberry.”

like a fish, you were left gaping at the man who just kissed you with the care of a lover. you wanted to say yes a thousand times over, but not a single words made it past your lips. satoru liked you, that much you knew. he had said so himself earlier that evening and yet, you were still left speechless like a canvas that was waiting to be painted with his love and kisses.

“it is,” you finally breathed, set aside your crepe and cupped satoru’s cheeks as you pulled him in for another sweet kiss.

lips melted into each other like candle wax as they danced with each other, explored and got to know each other all over again. no words were needed to explain the feeling, now in full bloom, engulfing you and satoru like a cocoon.

all that mattered was the taste of strawberries and whip cream on your lips and his hand caressing the nape of your neck.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon, @risuola, @ayanominitrash, @lordbugs, @phoenix666stuff, @hotvinimon, @stevenknightmarc, @sukunasleftkneecap, @erigaur , @lu-lynds, @staryukis

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru fluff #fic. the gojos & i

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pinkskiessss · 2 months ago

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LACY - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mature content

A/N: I feel like alot of the last few chapters have been about Layla really struggling with coming to terms with identity/sexuality. Which I wanted to write because I wanted to show the process of really coming to terms with being queer and how it isn’t just something you immediately accept in one night, based on my own experiences personally ofc. So with that being said, I hope someone else can find comfort in her character or relates. (Also forgot to write this in, but for anyone wondering, Layla has been involved “romantically” with guys in the past, but I think it’s just a realization now for her that it was like a cover up for who she actually is, because she’s feeling emotions she’s never felt towards a man, towards a woman if that makes sense. Basically she’s gay lol hope this helps! Which like same girl) Anywayssss sorry for the rant, enjoy loves!

—

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the folded note on my bedside table.

I hope you feel better. Text me when you get up.

I exhaled slowly, the events of last night still swirling in my mind. Her low voice, her subtle touches—it made my skin crawl, the way I feel when she touches me. Even if it’s only for a second. The way it made something stir inside me that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t accept either.

I grabbed my phone and texted her, my fingers shaking slightly.

Me: Hey, I just woke up. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry for being such a mess.

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for me.

Paige: Don’t trip. You’re good. Seriously.

Paige: You feeling better?

Me: Yeah, a little. Thanks again.

There was a short pause before her next message came through.

Paige: Can we talk? In person, if you’re not busy?

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her, not right now. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Me: Sure. You can come over if you want. I’m heading to the gym soon to practice, though.

Paige: Volleyball grind? Big game coming up, right?

Me: Yeah, it’s the regional final this weekend. If we win, we’re in the Final Four.

Paige: No pressure or anything

Me: Tell me about it lol

Paige: Can I come practice with you for fun cause why not? I won’t distract you to much I swear.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her trying to play volleyball.

Me: Ok sure, if you insistttt

When Paige arrived, she was dressed in basketball shorts and a black tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Somehow she always looks perfect like all the time. It’s crazy actually.

—

We set up the net, and Paige was already messing around with the volleyball like she had no idea what she was doing. I tossed her the ball.

“Alright, ready?” I asked.

She caught it but didn’t seem to know what to do next. “Uh, sure. Can’t be too hard.”

Her first attempt was… not great to say the least. The ball went flying across the gym, and she just stood there, looking at it like it had betrayed her.

“Okay, so let’s just act like you didn’t see that,” she said, laughing at herself.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension easing just a little. “Maybe try not to hit it like you’re dunking a basketball.”

“Yo I didn’t sign up for this kind of slander, not to much on me,” she said with a grin. “But fine, I’ll try again.”

We kept going, and she got a little better—or at least, less terrible. But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to last night, what I asked her in a drunken haze. How awkward it feels that I got drunk and slipped into a vulnerable state where I felt comfortable enough to ask her how she knew she was gay. Like come on Layla, why do you always have to make shit weird.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but when she stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we took a break, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The kind of knot that made me want to run. To escape this feeling.

“Layla,” Paige said softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at her, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced. She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine if it’s not, you know this.”

I shook my head, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Paige. I don’t even know why I asked you what I did. It just… felt like something I needed to say. I was really drunk and confused I guess. But now, I just feel… weird.”

Paige’s expression shifted, a flicker of something defensive in her eyes. “Weird how?”

I was silent, except for the sound of my breath, heavy and uneven. I could feel the weight of Paige’s words pressing down on me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside me was breaking. I didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just don’t get it, Layla,” Paige said, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Why are choosing to continuously hurt yourself by denying the facts.”

“I’m not. I just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want people to look at me like it’s all they see when I play. I don’t want to be judged. People already say enough disgusting stuff online about queer people. Imagine what they would say if they found out an athlete they looked up to secretly liked the same gender. It would hurt my career so much if people found out Paige, you don’t get it.”

Paige’s face tightened, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell, Layla? Are you seriously forgetting that I’m gay myself? I would get it. People speculate about my sexuality all the time, and yeah, it’s obvious. Everyone knows it. Sure, there’s a small percentage of people who hate on me for it, and I see it. But if I let that control my life, I’d be a pretty shitty person. People always have their opinions, and most of them are garbage, but you can’t let them define how you see yourself. You’re letting people on the internet make you think you’re wrong for feeling how you feel. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

I flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. She knew exactly what it was like to feel out of place. But I couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says quietly, her voice suddenly soft, regret seeping into her tone. “I shouldn’t have said that the way I did at all. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad, I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

My hands were shaking now, and I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears I’d been holding back start to fall. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Paige saw me crying, and her expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, reaching out to gently grab my arms, pulling them away from my face. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked up at her, my chest tight. “It’s not you, I just don’t know what to do, Paige. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to make this go away.”

Paige’s eyes softened as she held my arms. “You don’t have to make it go away, Layla. You don’t have to figure it out right now. But please, don’t hate yourself for it. You’re not disgusting, or weird. You’re… you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

“I really care for you,” Paige continued, her voice low and sincere. Hearing you talk about yourself like that—it hurts me. It hurts to see you think you’re not worth it. You are. You really are.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. I stepped closer to her, not sure what I was doing but knowing I needed to be near her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

She smiled softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I felt a pull in my chest, an undeniable connection that I couldn’t ignore. I leaned in slightly, my breath catching in my throat. I was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the way her blue eyes softened, the way her pink lips parted just slightly. My heart raced, the air thick with unspoken words, with everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, suspended moment. I could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the way it matched mine, both of us caught in the tension that had been building between us.

I barely registered that I was moving closer until our noses were almost touching, the smallest breath between us. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the way her cologne lingered in the air, intoxicating and all-consuming. I could feel the pull, stronger now, undeniable, and it was like something inside me snapped.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and my lips brushed against hers in the softest kiss. It was tentative at first, a question, a hesitation, but it felt right. Her lips were warm and inviting, soft as velvet, and I couldn’t help but press into her, deepening the kiss just slightly, my hands finding their way to her neck, pulling her closer.

Her lips moved against mine with a gentle pressure, and I responded instinctively, my body leaning into hers, craving more. There was no fear, no doubt. Just the rush of the moment, the way her touch made everything else fade away. It felt right.

But then, just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, breathless, my chest heaving. I looked at her, my heart pounding in my ears, and I saw the same intensity reflected in her eyes.

“Paige,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I—”

She didn’t give me a chance to finish. Before I could say another word, she pulled me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that took me by surprise. This time, there was no hesitation, no softness. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the urgency in her kiss, the way she needed me as much as I needed her.

I kissed her back with everything I had, my hands threading through her hair, pulling her even closer, if that was even possible. I could feel the heat between us, the way our bodies pressed together, desperate to feel more. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for anything but the raw, overwhelming undeniable connection between us.

—

Taglist:

@unadulteratedcyclepaper

#paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x oc

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darkeralmond · 2 months ago

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yeees i would definitely enjoy a celebrini fic <3

EYES LIKE SIRENS

previous < Chapter 1 > next

Pairing: Macklin Celebrini x Emilia Richardson

Summary: While Emilia’s is on another date in an effort to get over Macklin, she reminisces on her past HOCO proposal which made her realizes how much she likes Macklin

Warnings: Implications of sex, but no smut

Apricot Speaks: hi guys!! i missed u all sm!! i have been working hard on these and ive also been wondering if i should post these on wattpad too. lmk and pls support my writing!!

“Emilia, this is really starting to become a problem,” Clara called out from her bed. I rolled my eyes at her comment, but due to how small our room was, she saw my reflection causing her to add,“Don’t roll your eyes at me. It is a problem and you know it. This is the 3rd guy in the span of 2 weeks.”

Finally looking back at her, I replied, “Shouldn’t you be proud of the fact I’m not home moping around like I was before?” When I look back, I intensely stare at myself as I focus on acquiring the perfect cat liner.

Behind me, I heard her sigh as she jumped off her bed and making her way into the bathroom. She stopped next to me and though I wasn’t looking, I could the disapproval as she stared into the side of my head. “Maybe if you stare long enough, you can burn a hole into the side of my head and I can cancel this date.”

“Ha,” She answered dryly. I finally looked over at her when I finished the second eye with a smug smirk on my face. “Why do you even wanna go on this date?”

“Because I need to distract myself from brooding in bed all day.” I played with my hair, perfecting a natural messy but sexy look.

She huffed again signaling her distaste in it all, but it wasn’t her concern what I was doing with my free time. Even if it was in an attempt to get over M- someone. “Is your location shared at least?” She asked, raising her brows as she did so. There are so many things she does which resembles my mom which annoys me, but it at least makes me feel somewhat comforted in a way.

I smiled slightly as I answered, “Yes, Clara. I’ll text you where I’m at at times, and I’ll send the safe word if things go south.” Even with my best attempts at reassuring her that not everything will end bad, she still has the same disapproving look on her face. “Clar, I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry.” I took her hands into mine in my final attempt to assure her I’m grown and can make my own decisions.

I understand Clara’s concern, but what she doesn’t realize is that I know my date’s intentions. I knew this was only going to be a free meal followed by a one night stand, it’s basically what I signed up for when I hopped on these dating apps. All the dates she’s referring to could be considered more as hook ups and actual romantic dates. It’s what I need right after Macklin. Dammit, there goes my 10 minute streak of not thinking of him.

Sometimes I think she has mind reading super powers the way she’s able to redirect the conversation without me saying anything. “So, who’s the lucky bachelor tonight?” She asked as she holstered herself onto the sink counter.

“Jason Redding. He goes to NYU for business.” She bumped her shoulder against mine playfully, causing a small laugh to bubble out of me. “He also plays hockey, which is weird ‘cus I didn’t know they had it there.” Normally I steered clear of hockey players, but somehow Jason landed right into my DMs and it was a love story from there. And by love story, I mean his opening line being ‘This is why I prefer blondes.’

And they say chivalry is dead.

He didn’t make any effort in hiding his true intentions, which I appreciated since other ones did. He suggested taking me to dinner at a very fancy Italian restaurant before taking me to his dad’s hotel located nearby to stay for the night. Now why he was in Boston, I didn’t know.

Well that was until Clara said, “Oh! They play the boys on Tuesday. That’ll be interesting.” I forgot that Macklin had said something about playing NYU in their opening game. If I had known that I definitely would’ve cancelled on him, or never answer him at all.

“You can say that again,” I mumble. I heard my phone ding with a notification, prompting me to look down and see a message from Jason. “He’s here. I’ll text you when I leave the restaurant, alright?” I grabbed my coat off the bed and shimmied into it before tossing my purse over my shoulder.

“Please be safe!” She called out as I left our dorm. I heard the door shut behind me as I made my way towards the elevator.

When the elevator doors shut, I let out a long exhale. Not a nervous exhale, just one final sigh before I put on a fake facade for this guy for the night. Why be myself when he won’t stick along long enough for him to cherish it. I used to not be this way.

I used to be jittery going down this elevator to go out on dates. Now I felt numb and ready to get the night over with. I knew there were no feelings attached to any of these hookups that spawn in my lap, so why worry over something that’s not gonna progress. Let alone affect my future.

I thought my feelings would change eventually. That I’d meet the right guy and feel all the waves of emotions I used to feel in the past, but I haven't. It was my fault I wouldn’t either, so I knew not to feel sorry for myself.

As soon as I stepped out of the building, I wished I would’ve picked a warmer outfit. The weather in early January Boston was hellishly cold and my tights did nothing to prevent the wind from freezing my legs. At least I looked good in my skin tight leather dress.

I wasn’t suprised when I approached Jason and caught him eye fucking me. “Well, hello to you.” When I was in close enough proximity, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead. I didn’t expect this type of contact so soon, but I didn’t tense up either. I had more in store for me later anyways. “You look even better than you do in pictures.”

My fake laughs had become more convincing the more of these “dates” I go on, but at least this one was giving me stuff to work with. “You’re not too bad yourself,” I said, and I wasn’t lying either. He was super attractive. Brown eyes, blonde hair, a chiseled chin with peach fuzz. He just wasn’t my type.

He opened the car door for me, so I crawled in. The car felt so warm, causing me to melt into the seat. Before shutting the car door, Jason said, “Yeah, don’t fill up too much. I’ll have desert waiting for you in the room.” I was waiting for him to say something along those lines and it didn’t even take 5 minutes. I closed my eyes momentarily as I let the heat thaw me out.

On the way to the restaurant, it was silent minus the sound of traffic around us. With nothing else to entertain me, my mind had resorted to reminiscing on the past.

It gave me a healthy reminder on when I was young and naive, I used to fantasize about my soulmate sweeping me off my feet in a grand romantic gesture in front of a crowd of people. Guys, like Jason, have lowered my expectations of having an Uber paid for me when I used to appreciate aftercare.

…

Junior Year

I would like to believe that since my break up I was doing an incredible job on focusing strictly on myself and school. That, however, went out the window when I came to the realization that it was going to be my first homecoming dance without Westyn.

I stared at my ceiling above, taking in all the teenage version of One Direction staring back down at me. If only one of them could come to life and save me from this catastrophe, preferably Zayn. “I don’t know, maybe I should text him and ask. It will be my final time ever interacting with him.”

“Please don’t make me drive over there and snatch your phone away from you so you don’t do anything stupid,” Macklin replied on the other end of the phone.

I laughed as I rolled onto my stomach before responding, “Then you’d be late for your game.”

Without missing a beat he said, “Then, I’d risk being late for my game then.”

“Aww, you do really care about me. I thought you were heartless,” I teased him.

He scoffed, “It’d be for my own sake so I don’t have to hear you complain about him ever again.” I rolled my eyes and laughed again. He got serious again when he said, “Look, I’m sure someone will ask you soon. It’s still a month away.”

I dramatically groaned before flopping back on the mattress. “But I need to get my dress now!” I took the phone off speaker as I brought it up to my ear. . “I’ve already decided pink is my color this year and I wanna be able to find something glittery and unique.”

The sound of him driving was replaced with his laugh which caused a smile to appear on my face as my face grew warmer. “Alright, I’m pulling into the rink now. My parents will be there to get you in an hour so please be ready. Oh, and, Emilia?”

“Yeah?”

“It’ll happen,” He said in a low, almost secretive, tone which made my stomach flip for some odd reason. “Alright, see you later.”

I say bye and hang up, looking at the time on my phone. I should start getting ready now since the Celebrinis will be here in the next hour, but for now I stay laid down in my same position. . I continue to stare at my One Direction poster as I let my mind race with a million thoughts at once.

Ever since the night of Westyn and I’s break up when I came crying to Macklin, something changed within me. That night I saw some sort of spark in his eye which made me reconsider everything. His eyes drew me in like a siren, but I was able to break away and leave before anything could progress.

It had to have been my imagination, because the next day things were normal between us. Maybe it didn’t happen or maybe it’s the way Macklin naturally looks. Whatever it was, that look was dangerous.

I heard my phone ding, causing me to pick it up. Macklin had shot me a text which read:

I know ur still laying down, get up.

…

I didn’t feel crazy anymore for the way I was feeling in bed, because waiting for Macklin to come out after tonight’s win felt different. His parents didn’t help soothing my nerves any, as they were also acting weird. Like they were anticipating something.

I continued chucking it up to my own paranoia until Macklin came out of the locker room and I noticed his mom now held up her camera. “Hey, you!” He greeted me with a cheesy grin as he came out, holding his arms out for a hug. With my brows furrowed, I still accepted the hug because I wasn’t going to leave him hanging just because of my own derailing thoughts.

Without skipping a beat, Macklin’s mom announced, “Let me take a picture.” Macklin spun me quickly to face her, and part of this felt rehearsed. His grip on my waist as we posed for the picture felt tight that if I tried to squirm out of it, I would fail miserably. As my head rested against his chest, I could hear his heart racing. Maybe it was just due to post game adrenaline rush, but he also seemed nervous. I watched as Macklin’s parents, specifically his mom’s, faces lit up as they looked past us which made me think something was occurring behind us.

As if Macklin noticed it too, he glanced back as his grip loosened. I also turned my head, but in an effort to do so, I noticed a bundle of bright flowers against the black sweatshirt Macklin was wearing. I gawked at the arrangement of different pink flowers which were wrapped with a pretty pink bow. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he held them out for me to take.

Accepting his flowers, Macklin gently held onto my waist as he diverted my attention to the scene behind us. I was greeted by five of his teammates holding up poster paper spelling out ‘HOCO?’ with joyous grins on their faces.

I could feel my jaw beginning to cramp, indicating how long it had been open due to the amount of surprises thrown my way in the span of a minute. I thought Macklin had been acting weird about Westyn because he liked me, but it was really because he wanted to make sure I wasn’t going with Westyn.

Even though I felt relieved that my initial guess was wrong, for some odd reason my heart felt a sudden pain at the thought of Macklin not liking me. That’s a good thing though… right?

“Emilia?” Macklin spoke up, grounding me back to reality. I looked over at him and noticed the panicked features embedded on his face.

I laughed as a reaction to everything before answering, “Yes, duh!” I threw my arms around him as I grinned from ear to ear. People around gave subtle applause while his teammates cheered loudly.

When we pulled away, I captured the same look that I saw the night I came to him crying. That same longing look. My heart dropped as I swiftly shifted my eyes to look elsewhere, breaking eye contact that made me want to risk everything.

“Now, you have to find a different way to ask me to prom,” I joked as an attempt to distract myself from what could’ve happened.

He laughed before responding with, “I’m sure you’ll have a new date by then.” With that, he put an end to the delusion I’ve had for the past month. I simply nodded my head, looking back down at the flowers.

…

Now

Jason’s hand found its place on my leg, bringing me back to the present as I looked in his direction., “Are you ready to head inside, gorgeous?”

For the first time tonight I felt something that wasn’t numbness, disappointment. Disappointed that I wasn’t looking at Macklin’s smiling face. Disappointed that I let things slip through my fingers because I couldn’t balance my chaotic life.

Swallowing that feeling down, I nodded my head and answered, “Yes.”

As I was escorted inside, my head kept reeling back to what Macklin could be doing right now. What if he was seeing someone as well? What if he’s actually moved on?

No matter what I keep telling myself, thinking about Macklin is inevitable. How am I capable of moving on whenever he breaches my mind every minute of every single day. There was no possible date that could solve this yearning.

#macklin celebrini #macklin celebrini imagine #hockey fanfiction #macklin celebrini x fem!reader #apricot’s fanfics #macklin celebrini x reader #macklin celebrini x oc

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