#II HOPE I DID.. OKAY??

[rebo-chan]

This was a HELLA LONG POST SO IM PUTTING IT UNDER A CUT. THIS WAS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT A XANXUS ANALYSIS, SO I HOPE YOU VARIA FANS ENJOY??

OKAY so I did my last poll (Favorite arc) because I wanted to figure out which arc/aspect of an arc I should look at next. And Varia won. Also, as well my friend has been slowly scheming to get me into the Varia as a whole. Safe to say, it's starting to work. ANYWAY, since I've never done him before, the thing I wanted to look at here is Xanxus, his relationship with his wrath, and with his "pride". To start, Xanxus comes into the Ninth's care as a child being fooled into believing that he was the Ninth's son. Overtime, under the Ninth's care, he is led to believe that it is his birthright to be Vongola X. Pride as defined by my beloved Simon arc is something you can't give up on. This is no doubt Xanxus's pride. The only problem is that it was a fake one, so easily ripped away from him by the mere fact that he and the Ninth had no blood connections. This is where his Wrath "begins", furious at having been 'betrayed' that there was never any intention to make him the heir. The very thing he made his Pride. It's here, his wrath introduces him to Squalo who walks into the lion's den (or at least someone he had believed to be a Vongola Lion) wanting to see where that anger led him. Squalo, the series embodiment of the word 'Pride'. Eager to prove that Xanxus, who he believed to be the Ninth's son, he would be a valuable ally to.

Squalo and us the audience then get to see personally where Xanxus's Wrath had led him. Despite Xanxus's pride being fake, it was still not something he could give up on. He was going to take his pride back, no matter who bled for it. Hence the coup. His Wrath made him chase after his Pride, and what it ended up being was one.. big temper tantrum from the hands of someone with far too much power. It's not lost on me as well that the result of the coup is referred to as the Cradle Incident. A cradle, what you would do to calm down a screaming child. It's also here that Squalo finds out the truth about Xanxus not truly being Vongola X. In the midst of this family debacle, Xanxus's pride is confirmed to not just himself but to Squalo as well as false. Lucky for Xanxus, Squalo was never following his pride but rather his rage. Unfortunately, I'm not entirely sure that Xanxus sees it that way.

As Xanxus wakes up from the ice with years having passed, it does nothing to sooth the burn of his anger of his ripped away pride. He hatches up another plan, the ring conflict, in order to crush the one that his 'birthright' was given to. To spit on his father's choice and destroy what the Ninth had wanted for the boy, just like his wants were destroyed. "Show me what that old man saw in you." Is no doubt the wrath slipping through. It's a "What made you a better choice than me?" I don't doubt that the relationship between Xanxus and the Ninth is.. almost irreparable at this point, but he is still someone who thought highly of the Ninth's opinion just based on that and the fact he felt betrayed by the ninth's action. He again WAS proud to be his son, either that's from the benefits that being the heir for Vongola X brought or out of some genuine familial love. It's hard to say frankly and up to interpretation. (In the very least, we can at least say Timoteo did genuinely care for Xanxus but this post isn't about him<3) Either way, the ring conflict begins and it is Xanxus's chance at retaking his pride and getting his proper and true revenge for what was done for him.

But this time though, there are slight differences between now and the coup. Time either in the cradle or otherwise has morphed how Xanxus sees things. There's.. an added humiliation to Xanxus now, one that hates what happened back in the coup. Not in the way that he regrets what he did, persay but rather the way the Ninth's eyes looked upon him in pity, the way he sees that same look in Tsuna. The fact that Squalo was there, whether or not he had heard what happened. It burns Xanxus. He wants his pride back, but he wants it renewed. Freshly removed from his past. He wants the Ninth gone, and for the way Tsuna shares that same look in his eyes, he's going to take both of them down in one go if he can help it. (The cloud battle, putting Tsuna in the situation where he could be charged with possibly ending the Ninth's life. It would've been poetic, wouldn't it? The two gentle souls of the Vongola destroying one another.) Then, there's Squalo.. Squalo, who "dies" in the rain battle and Xanxus can only laugh. Because, finally, things are going his way. Now, everything is in place. He can now take the position of Vongola X without the threads of his past holding onto him tightly, reminding him of his failure, of who he really is, of his falsified pride. What's poetic is that it's the embodiment of Pride who appears, with an absolute refusal to die, for real pride isn't something you can give up, that reveals Xanxus's truth to everyone. Tells everyone what was essentially that no matter how hard Xanxus struggles and plots and rips and tears, his 'pride' will never be his again. Xanxus doesn't accept this, it wasn't Squalo's intention to make him to either, but the option isn't in his hands. It never was. The ninth, at the end of the cloud battle, blames himself for all of his happening. For not being strong enough to do what had to be done. This can be interpreted as him referring to not killing Xanxus during the cradle incident, but it can also be interpreted as him not being able to tell Xanxus the truth from the start. Not being able to deny Xanxus the chance of life away from the slums. His 'kind' action only served to put Xanxus's life down a path of the inability to choose. Almost paralleled to Tsuna in a way, who brought into the role of Vongola X against his will, Xanxus is kept away from Vongola X against his will.

Xanxus's wrath is a weakness, let me make that clear. It blinds him from the truth, from his unfortunate circumstances, from accepting that it just couldn't be. I'm not sure if he'll ever accept it, so long as he has that wrath. But, the good news is that we see ten years later into the future, his wrath is no longer an open enough of a wound for others to poke at and prod to get him to react the way they want. His response to Raisel was nothing less than a "Do you think I'm that easy?" He IS better there about it. The Vongola is STILL his family, no matter what inner conflict there is and no outsider is going to be able to rip into him half as easily as the people from inside did. As for what he's done with his pride ten years down? It's hard to say, he desires Vongola at its strongest and at that time it was the strongest under Tsuna's control. I won't pretend he doesn't still want the title, but the wound isn't fresh anymore at least by then.

OOGH. WELL, THATS IT. I'm curious to see if you guys have any interpretations about his "pride", if you agree, disagree, or if you have any interpretations of what his pride has become ten years down the line. Thank you for reading this far!!!

[numberonetacostan]

CHEESY N TACO SHLD B FRIENDS N I NEED SOMEONE 2 HEAR ME ON THIS BC TH ONLY FRIEND I HAVE WHOS INTO II HATES HIS ASS. ne way

i like t think tacos laugh at balloon stupid pun in s1 e2 was genuine and she just really likes shitty puns no matter how much she denies it. which causes cheesy t follow her around bc shes like one of th only ppl who does n when i thought abt it they actually developed a fun dynamic. he annoys her sm but in a silly way. theyre th most INSUFFERABLE duo in th hotel everyone has t look out whenever theyre hanging out. they also hurt people without meaning to for similar reasons! for some reason they both have th main example of mic?

I put them tgether in a danganronpa II crossover au so thats where i imagine most of their dynamic but honestly theyre really fun in general i DO NOT THINK I HAVE TH PROPER WORDS ATM but please acknowledge th potential of them being little shits tgether

Hello there!! Welcome, and thank you for sharing your headcanon!!!^^

They're certainly an interesting pair!! I can see Taco liking puns, if they're clever enough, but I can not see her admitting to it lol. She would hold in any and all laughter, unless it came from someone she really trusts like Mic. Cheesy is quite persistent, so I can see him potentially getting a giggle or two out of Taco, though I don't her appreciating the "yo mama" jokes he's apparently taken a liking to. Overall I think they could get along pretty well in smaller doses, but Cheesy would just be too much for Taco. Between Pickle, Mic, and Mepad, Taco definitely seems to prefer a more low-key sort of person, yeah? Too much silliness and noise would probably discourage her, between reminding her of her s1 persona, contributing to her habit of deflecting through humor, and getting her worked up without a chance to decompress, I think.

Please don't let me discourage you at all though!!! Even if I don't see them being close in the same way you do, I can see that you're really passionate and excited about the duo and that's great!!!!!!^^ Please enjoy it!!!!!

[ii-meeple-confessions]

I HATE cobs but also i’m obsessed with how he was written. I have genuinely never seen a villan character that has made me nearly as angry as cobs does. He’s insane. He’s unforgiveable. He values nothing exept his job. He will and HAS killed for his job. He’s horrible. Actually such an amazing character and so much of that credit goes to Joshua, his INCREDIBLY skilled voice actor. Rip cobs.You totally deserved to explode❤️

Does this count as a meeple confession because cobs is the ceo. of meeple.

uhhhm uhhm uhhhmmm just in case .mephone’s favorite music is canonically ringtones according to Brian on a livestream .if yuo even care😓

.

[smile-files]

oh yeah i watched the new ii and it was pretty wack. my only two thoughts are

i love cabby

they had to neutralize clover?????? hello?????????

[dynmghts]

GUIDE - mute? :D

GUIDE : sender has been injured, but their skills are needed to help with the muses’ current situation (an escape plan, tending a wound, or diffusing a weapon, for example). sender has to walk receiver through the procedure, all the while trying to stay conscious. 

pro hero dynamight has a healthy understanding of his support gear, well enough that he can perform small repairs when he's got no other choice. he spent plenty of time in the lab with izuku that he picked up the basics. that, however, didn't mean he could make complicated repairs on the fly.

katsuki has done what he can to ensure izuku was stable enough to pull through his injury, yes. but with the two trapped under rubble, and katsuki needing to make an emergency repair to sufficiently fight his way out for the both of them, he had the sense they were on borrowed time. katsuki needs izuku's guidance. without it, the blond isn't sure he can get his storage tank to function properly, which means the saved nitroglycerin would be for naught. if he couldn't direct it ...

he's run through other scenarios. he could take out the nitroglycerin and throw it in the general direction he needs it to go, but that would be imprecise and extremely reckless. he could run the risk, but his gear has its failsafe for a reason, and he'd have to bypass it if he really wanted to try. his other gauntlet has long-since been destroyed, so there's no defaulting to the other.

what else was there for katsuki to do ? they can't stay down here.

❛ oi, izuku, you still with me ? ❜ red eyes glance up with a flash of concern, brows furrowing to watch for movement before he returns to pulling apart his gauntlet housing. katsuki's taken off his gloves for this. he even wiped away any residual nitroglycerin on his palms, just to make sure he wouldn't accidentally set anything off while he was trying to do this. ❛ c'mon, i need you awake. ❜

katsuki almost bites his tongue at the sight of different wires and soldered-on pieces, chips and boards tucked away with tubes running through the compartments. his fingers trace the cooling system's insulation - behind it would be the storage tank, if he's remembering the blueprints right.

the longer he looks, the more tense he gets. izuku might be able to identify the issue right away, and he would be working with deft hands to rectify it ; he designed all the improvements for the damn thing, after all. katsuki, though ?

he doesn't know where to start.

a pause. ❛ do i gotta move the insulation ? ❜ katsuki glances up to try and catch a glimpse of green, hoping to god izuku hadn't dozed off yet. after a moment, he ends up giving him a small shake. ❛ or is the problem here ? ❜

@starshinc / HARD-TO-FIND HURT / COMFORT, ACCEPTING.

[runelocked]

"KAIROS" VIRUS DOWNLOADED: @cicxdas LIKED FOR A STARTER!

THERE'S NOTHING FAIR ABOUT A TALK WITH WILLIAM AFTON WHEN HE HAS PLAYED THE GAME ONCE ALREADY. Celina has no idea what she's getting herself in for: or how often she'll be back here, at the diner, to investigate children that disappear in the dead of daylight or employees that just won't stay alive.

William does know: lets his smile stretch just a little wider as he invites her in now, at the memory. Deja vu, really, not that he can tell her that - and at the irony that she's standing in front of the murderer himself without any idea of it. She will not find the missing children, and she will not catch the killer: but she will thank him for holding the door, and she will walk past the room they're being kept in.

He'd forgotten how fun unnerving Celina could be. He's in for a treat.

"Terrible thing, these kidnappings," he tells her, careful to keep his voice down as children run around inside. "I don't hold out much belief in their survival - as much as I hope for it beyond all odds." William sighs. This time, he has to put effort into concealing his amusement. "Sorry. I'm not used to dealing with things like this. Although-"

A quick glance towards her; keep playing innocent, William, don't push what you know too forcefully--

"I'm sure you've had plenty of experience with kidnappings... what with your line of work."

[wawataka]

i waited years for mob psycho 100 season three i can wait for the third years of good omens

[pitchsidestories]

look at us now (2) II Renée Slegers x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | part 1 | word count: 1695

summary: the team tries to figure out if Renée and reader are in a relationship or just friendly with each other. requested

author's note: hi everyone, we hope you enjoy the fanfic as much as part one. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

disclaimer: Everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Rekindling your relationship with Renée had brought back the same feelings that you had when you dated her back in Sweden. Everything was easy with Renée. You felt safe and secure, loved and cared for. And you loved taking care of her too by making sure she didn’t work until late at night and took enough breaks. The only difference to back then was that this time you decided to keep it a secret.

It should have been easy. You two were professionals after all. But seeing Renée so deflated after Arsenal just lost to Chelsea, made it really hard not to walk over and put your arms around her.

As if she was looking for your closeness, she appeared next to you in the tunnel.

“We were so close.”, she sighed.

You gently put your hand on her upper arm, trying your best to stay positive: “Don’t be upset. It was a good game.”

“I’m not upset. Our team did well but what am I going to tell them? They will be sad and disappointed because of the loss…”

You studied her for a moment, unsure if she was actually talking about your team or herself.

“You’ll find the right words, Renée. You’re never at a loss for words.”, you smiled gently.

Renée didn’t answer. She turned towards the pitch, making sure that no one could see the two of you hidden in the dark hallway leading towards the dressing rooms. And then she kissed you.

It was quick and grateful. A small gesture to let you know that she was happy to have you in her corner.

When you pulled away, you quickly realised that you weren’t alone anymore.

The Chelsea coach passed by, her assistant by her side and to your surprise she winked at you.

“I think your players are looking for you two.“, she said with her strong French accent.

“Oh… uhm , thanks.”, you stammered, the shock of being caught still lingering.

She left with a knowing smile on her lips: “De rien.”

“I think what she wanted to say was you’re welcome. Come on, the girls need us.”, Renée grinned, seemingly unbothered by the interaction and dragged you with her back towards the pitch.

“Hope you have some ideas for your speech now.“, you laughed.

“I do.”

Before Renée could gather the team, Kim came up to you. She frowned, holding herself like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen your captain so devastated.

“I’m sorry, coach. I don’t know why I tried to stop Lauren James in the penalty area.”, she apologized, her voice steady but not free of frustration.

Your heart ached for your captain.

“It happens and it’s okay. You were trying to help the defence out. Yes, maybe we lost the match today but also showed that we can keep up with Chelsea. And this is what we should take away from this game.”, Renée said patiently as more and more players formed a circle around you.

Leah clapped her hands with a determined face: “That’s right. We get up and learn from it. Next time, we’ll beat them.”

“Exactly that.”, Renée nodded. The blonde defender's words of encouragement seemed to lighten the load on the players' shoulders a little. Only one footballer looked completely miserable.

As you whispered in Kim’s ear, you hugged her gently:” Don’t be too hard on yourself, Kimmy.”

“I’ll try to.”, she replied with an unhappy smile.

“Promise?”

‘Sure,’ the captain shrugged before making her way to the changing room. It was heartbreaking to see her in this state.

On another evening you attended your first dinner with the team. Between the starters and the main course, Alessia asked you something private, to which you laughed awkwardly.

Reprovingly you clicked your tongue: “Alessia.”

“What I was asking you a simple question.”, she answered, sounding quite innocent.

“That’s not a question that belongs here.”, you stated.

The blonde immediately protested not without a smile:” If you’re seeing anyone? But you know everything about us.”

“Just because you tell her a lot about yourself doesn't mean she has to.”, Renée came to your aid.

With a teasing smile on your lips, you added: “And I never asked you to share everything with me. And I mean literally everything.”

“Hey, why are you looking at me while you said that?!”, Kyra pouted.

“Because I really don’t need to know what you’ve for breakfast. Every day.”, you chuckled.

The Australian midfielder couldn't help but burst out laughing too:” A girl likes to yap, okay?”

“Everyone here knows.”, Steph assured her, patting her lightly on the shoulder.

Caitlin, who was sitting next to them, confirmed it.

You needed a moment for yourself, so you went to the dimly lit restaurant’s bathroom, your girlfriend followed a few minutes later.

There was an amused twinkle in her brown eyes:” Our players are very interested in your love life.”

“I don’t know why though.”, you sighed as she hugged you from behind.

In a sincere tone Renée retorted: “Me neither.”

“When can we go to your place?”, you asked your girlfriend longingly.

“Not yet. They might notice.”

“Maybe we should leave around different times? So, it’s not too obvious.”, you suggested. co

The brunette thought about it for a second, then announced: “Good idea. I’ll leave first.”

After Renée was gone, Beth noticed: “Coach left early.”,

“You know her, there’s always work.”, you waved it off.

“And she likes to be prepared.”, Leah continued.

With a glance at the clock, you realized:” But it’s also late, girls.”

“Don’t say you’re going too.”, Kyra looked at you with big eyes.

“Yes, I am. Bye everyone.”, you told the players.

As soon as you were out of sight, Beth turned excitedly to her teammates: “Girls, did you notice how long the farewell hug was between Renée and our new assistant coach?”

“You’re overinterpreting here, Beth.”, Stina countered.

Quickly, Alessia disagreed: “I think she has a point.”                                 

“Oh, please.”, the Swede rolled her eyes.

“But she didn’t want to talk about it either.”, the English striker reminded the fellow blonde.

A smile lit up Leah's face when she admitted: “Yes, that was suspicious.”

Stina shook her head: “They’ve been over it for a long time.”

“If you say so…”, Beth shrugged, ending the conversation but the sparkle in her eyes was evidence enough that she wasn’t ready to drop the topic yet.

A week later, Arsenal faced Manchester City. The game was chaotic and all over the place. You could barely stay in your seat watching your players move around the pitch. Subconsciously, you cringed. Finally, you had enough. You got up and joined Renée on the sideline.

“Oh, I can’t look. This is turning into a basketball game, no midfield to be seen.”, you complained to her, desperately pointing towards your defensive and central midfielders trying to gain control of the game.

You could tell that Renée followed the game with growing concern but she turned towards you and joked: “If it was basketball, they would use their hands, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and bit back in smile.

“Yes but still, where is our midfield? Get Lia on.”

Renée who had turned back to watch the game only glanced at you this time: “Calm down.”

“I am calm.”, you replied without taking your eyes off of your girlfriend.

“Good.”

Discussion over. You both focused back on the game.

The minutes passed and nothing changed. Finally, Renée gave in and called Lia over to be subbed in. You both shared a look before she entered the pitch. You raised your eyebrow to signal your girlfriend that you had told her so, to which Renée responded with a playful roll of her eyes.

With Lia on, the game started to stabilise. But still, it went back and forth between both teams. When the final whistle blew, Arsenal was one goal ahead, winning the game 3:4.

You snuck up to Renée and grinned at her: “See? Getting Lia in was a good idea.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t only that sub.”, she said cooly, still staring out on the pitch and reflecting on the game.

“Of course not.”

Renée finally looked at you and nodded once: “But important three points.”

“Yes, we got a lot to take away from it too for when we play them again in a few days.”

“Yes, a lot of work for us.”, Renée agreed.

“We can do that.”

“I’m sure.” Renées face softened and a smile tugged on her lips as she dragged you along with her towards the player’s tunnel. She kissed you in the safety of the darkness as she so often did after games.

All of a sudden you felt the eyes of your players on you and began to clear your throat nervously: “Uhm Renée the team is staring at us.”

“What?”, your girlfriend followed your gaze with an alarmed look on her face.

Barely audible you whispered:”I think they saw the kiss.”

“Oh no.”, Renée began to curse.

With a proud smile on her lips Beth turned to her teammates:” I told you so, I was right girls!”

“They’re so cute.”, Alessi chirmed much to your surprise.

An amused chuckle escaped your lips:” You know that we can hear you, right?”

“Yes, we do.”, Leah smirked.

Renée ran her fingers through her hair flustered, trying to take her players’ minds off the kiss: “We should give our thanks to our travelling fans.”

“Come on, coach. It’s fine. You don’t have to distract.”, Beth assured the Dutch woman.

The England captain quickly added: “Yeah, we’re glad to see you this happy.”

Without words, Renée picked up Beth, while both started to laugh out loud.

“I think you can tell that she’s happy.”, you remarked smiling.

A teasing grin played around your girlfriend’s lips: “Oh, can you? But yes, I am What about you, love?”

“Our team won, and I got a gorgeous woman on my side. I can’t complain.”, you replied cheerfully.

And this much was true, if you looked at the two of you now, you wouldn’t change a thing.

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[numberonetacostan]

if you yearn to make your own shimeji, you can use whatever application you normally use to make art. the code & reference poses can be found here: http://kilkakon.com/shimeji/ (do not worry, it is safe. I would not send malware to my favorite taco blog)

Hi there!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for your suggestion!!! :]

I will look into that website, thank you very very much!!!! <3

And, in the immortal words of Balloon Inanimate Insanity Invitational Season 3 Episode 1 Stranded in Paradise, "I'm... a favourite?"

BUT seriously thank you so much that's so sweet of you to say!!! <3<3

[ticifics]

hi im so in love with your writing! I was wondering if I could request an angsty remus fic? maybe with an unrequited love theme where reader has a massive crush on him but he notices and rejects reader before they can even confess? its not that’s ok! mwah tyy <33

Unrequited Love

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: It wasn’t just a crush. It was deeper, more desperate. Every day beside him was a mix of silent happiness and growing pain because, deep down, you knew he didn’t see you the same way. And yet, you clung to any shred of attention. A smile in the hallway or the sound of his name on your lips, which he always responded to with that infallible kindness. You knew you were drowning, but you couldn’t help it.

Warnings: angst

A/N: hi love, you are so kind, thank you so much for the sweet words. I hope I did something that meets your expectations - and gosh, maybe, just maybe I am a little devastated, it's two angsts in a row with my boy Remus (that said, of course I loved doing it)

Unrequited Love | part II

You couldn’t quite remember exactly when it all started, but at some point between shared classes and comfortable silences in the library, Remus Lupin started occupying every thought of yours. Maybe it was that afternoon, weeks ago, when he noticed you were struggling to understand the theory behind a complicated spell. He approached, gentle but not invading your space, and said: "Can I help? I think I have an easier way to explain this."

You accepted, of course, your face warm and words stuck in your throat. He sat beside you, his voice low and firm as he pointed to the lines of the book with a slender finger. Every time he explained something, he’d end it with a quick glance, as if he wanted to confirm you were following along. You were so captivated by the sound of his voice that the actual understanding of the spell came later, when you were alone.

That’s when you started noticing the details. The way he furrowed his brow when reading something particularly complicated, or how he smiled to the side, a subtle smile, but enough to light up your whole day. He was different. He didn’t draw attention like his friends, who were usually the center of any room, but there was something in the restrained gestures, the care in his words, that made him seem more... real.

You began seeking opportunities to be near him. Not that it was intentional at first, but you always seemed to end up at the table next to him in the library or choosing the same time to study in the empty classroom. He never seemed to mind. In fact, he always nodded or gave a polite "good afternoon" before returning to what he was doing.

There was that day, though, that stayed engraved in your mind with almost painful clarity. It was an ordinary afternoon, and you were in the library. You had mentioned, without thinking, that you loved chamomile tea because your mother used to say it had a "comforting taste." He chuckled softly, a sound that made your heart stumble in your chest. A few weeks later, while you were sitting in a class, he casually leaned in and murmured: "Did you know chamomile tea was used in Ancient Greece as medicine? Seems fitting, doesn’t it?"

Your head spun to him, surprised. He remembered. It was just a silly sentence you had said, but he remembered. The rest of the class passed in a blur as you replayed each word, each glance.

It wasn’t just a crush. It was deeper, more desperate. He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but you wanted so much to be the one who could ease some of that. Every day beside him was a mix of silent happiness and growing pain because, deep down, you knew he didn’t see you the same way.

And yet, you clung to any shred of attention. A smile in the hallway, a "Are you okay?" after a tough test, or the sound of his name on your lips, which he always responded to with that infallible kindness.

You knew you were drowning, but you couldn’t help it.

The weeks dragged on like a dream, but a dream that never became reality. With every encounter with Remus, you felt like you were floating, but there was always an invisible weight pulling you back to the ground. He was kind, considerate, but never crossed the line. Every gesture, every word, was filled with a cordiality that you desperately wanted to interpret as something more, but you couldn’t ignore the voice in your head whispering, "He's just being polite. It doesn’t mean anything."

It was in this tension that an idea formed. A letter. If you couldn’t say everything you felt to him in words, maybe you could put it on paper. You had already rehearsed so many times, in your mind, the perfect phrases, the declarations that could, perhaps, make him see you differently. But every time you opened your mouth, the words died before they took shape.

That night, sitting on your bed with the curtains closed around you, you held a piece of parchment. The quill trembled in your hand as you stared at the blank page. Your heart was pounding, a mix of anticipation and fear. What could you write that would capture everything you felt? How could you translate in words the impact he had on you, the way he made the world seem lighter just by being in it?

After minutes that felt like hours, you began:

"Remus, I know this might seem strange or unexpected, but I need to say something that I’ve kept to myself for so long that I can’t keep it in anymore. Since I met you, something inside me has changed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s something in your gestures, in the way you look at the world, that makes me want to be a part of it. You’re more than kind; you’re someone who makes everything seem... possible. I don’t know how to put it any other way, so I’ll be direct: I like you. More than as a friend. And I needed to tell you. Because holding this in is starting to hurt more than having the courage to say it."

You stopped, looking at the words you had just written. Your breath was heavy, and silent tears threatened to fall. It was a relief, in a way, to see it all there on paper. But the weight of what could happen next was almost unbearable.

For a moment, you considered handing him the letter. Not that night, of course, but maybe the next morning, or during the next class. The idea gave you a spark of hope, but also brought an overwhelming fear.

What if he didn’t feel the same?

That question echoed in your mind, over and over, as you carefully folded the letter and hid it in the pocket of your coat. Your hand stayed there, feeling the weight of the parchment like a bomb about to explode.

Remus knew. He had known for some time. There was no way he couldn’t notice.

There was something in the way you looked at him, a hesitant and hopeful gleam, that didn’t go unnoticed. He noticed the moments when you got closer than necessary, like when you sat beside him in the library even when there were empty tables. He noticed how you seemed to hold your breath whenever he leaned in to explain something, or how your words sometimes faltered, as if the weight of something unspoken was too much.

He wasn’t a fool. The subtleties of the heart, however, were a territory he preferred to avoid. Especially when he knew he couldn’t return the feelings.

You were smart, dedicated, kind in a way that made people want to be near you, and you were beautiful. He genuinely liked your company, but not in that way. Not the way you seemed to desire. Remus felt a tightness in his chest every time this reality pressed upon him, because he knew what needed to be done. He knew that the longer he let things drag on, the worse it would be for you.

That’s why, after Potions class that afternoon, he waited for you to finish gathering your things. He didn’t know exactly what he would say, but the words had been weighing on his throat for days.

“Do you have a minute?” His voice was calm, but there was something in his expression, the way he avoided eye contact for a second longer than usual, that made your heart stop.

“Of course.” Your response was automatic, but the nervousness crept into your voice. He was serious, more serious than you’d ever seen him before, and that sent a chill through your stomach.

As you walked beside him, the hallways seemed longer, quieter. You noticed he didn’t look directly at you, and that only made the nervousness grow.

He stopped next to an empty window, where the late afternoon light fell in soft angles. You held your books to your chest, as if they were armor, while he finally turned to face you.

“I... I think we need to talk.”

Your heart seemed to beat too fast, as if trying to prepare itself for whatever might come out of his mouth. You knew he wouldn’t say this lightly. “We need to talk” was never a casual introduction, it never preceded something good. Still, you tried to hold on to the faint hope, that quiet voice in the back of your mind whispering: Maybe he feels something too. Maybe he wants to say he noticed...

“I... I need to be honest with you,” Remus began, his voice low and serious, his words carefully chosen, but they still fell like stones upon you. “I don’t think it would be fair to let this continue without saying anything.”

Your fingers tightened around your books against your chest. Without saying what? Anxiety ran like fire through your veins, and you couldn’t look away from him, even though part of you wanted to run.

“I’ve noticed that...” He paused, biting his lower lip slightly, as if the words were hard to form. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, looking away for a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. “You’ve been... very kind to me, and I appreciate that. Truly. But I... I don’t want you to think that... there’s something here that isn’t.”

The world seemed to silence around you. Only his words echoed in your mind: “Something that isn’t.” It was as if he had ripped the ground out from under you with a single sentence.

“I don’t understand.” Your voice came out quieter than you expected, almost a whisper. You knew what he was trying to say, but at the same time, you refused to believe it. It couldn’t be this. It couldn’t end like this.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He took a step closer, his gaze filled with something that seemed like guilt. “But I think you feel something for me. Something more than friendship.”

You felt your face burn, your chest tightening as if being compressed by an impossible weight. He knew. All this time, he knew.

“I...” You tried to deny it, tried to find some word that could save you from the abyss opening up, but your voice failed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, his voice softer now, but somehow, that only made it hurt more. “I just... I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re amazing. You’re kind, you’re smart, and anyone would be lucky to have your attention.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly, as if the weight of the situation affected him too. “But I’m not that person. I can’t... see you that way.”

It was as if he had pulled the air from your lungs. Every word felt like a blade, cutting slowly but deeply. You felt tears burning in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not in front of him.

“You’re saying that...” You stopped, swallowing hard, your throat too tight to continue.

“I don’t want you to have hopes where there’s no space for them,” he said softly, as if trying to minimize the impact, but the pain was already there, overwhelming and absolute.

You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. All you could feel was the crushing rejection, the weight of knowing he would never look at you the same way. It was worse than you had imagined, because he wasn’t being cruel. He was being honest, and his honesty hurt more than any cruelty ever could.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, almost in a whisper, and those words were the final stone that fell upon your heart already in ruins.

You nodded quickly, unable to trust your own voice, and took a step back. You wanted to say something, wanted to pretend you were fine, but there was nothing that could be said. So, you just turned and left, feeling his eyes on your back but not looking back.

The first tear fell before you even turned the corner.

Each step echoed like a drum in your ears, blending with the disordered sound of your thoughts. You pressed the books to your chest so tightly that your fingers began to ache, but it was better to focus on the physical pain than the agony that was boiling inside you.

The students around you laughed, talked, ran. The castle was alive, pulsing with the energy of carefree teenagers, but everything felt muffled, distant, as if you were walking through a bad dream.

You turned down a random hallway, not even knowing where you were going, just needing to get away from everything and everyone. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the knot in your throat seemed to tighten with every passing moment, as if it were impossible to swallow the weight that kept building there.

Finally, you found an empty corner, behind a worn tapestry that no one seemed to notice. It was a temporary hiding spot, but it was all you needed. You threw yourself against the cold wall, sliding to the floor, the books falling from your hands as the tears you had held back for so long finally overflowed.

They came hot and relentless, streaming down your face mercilessly. You tried to stifle the sobs, biting your fist, but it was useless. The pain felt like its own entity, growing and spreading inside you.

Your chest ached, a physical sensation of emptiness and tightness that almost made you gasp for air. Your hands trembled, gripping your knees as if they were your only anchor. He knew. Those words echoed repeatedly in your mind. He had known all along.

Worse yet, not only did he know, but he had decided to tell you in such a careful, gentle way that the rejection became even more painful. He hadn't looked down on you, hadn't mocked you, but that only made it crueler. He had looked directly at you and said, without hesitation, that there was no space for you in his heart.

You closed your eyes, trying to breathe deeply, but all you could see was his face. The calm expression, the soft tone. The contrast between his kindness and the brutality of what he was saying was unbearable.

What had you done wrong? The question burned like fire, consuming everything around you. You replayed every interaction, every glance, every word spoken. There was no way to erase the moments when your heart raced for something he said or did. There was no way to turn back time and rip the feelings from yourself that you knew he would never return.

In the distance, you could hear other students passing by, carefree voices, laughter filling the hallways. Life continued as if nothing had happened, as if your world hadn't ended in that moment. The contrast was suffocating, a reminder that your pain was yours alone.

You hugged your knees, trying to diminish the feeling of falling apart. All you wanted was to disappear, to become invisible. Maybe, if no one saw you, no one would know how broken you were.

Time seemed to drag on, but it also slipped through your fingers like sand. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed since that conversation. Days? Weeks? Every unavoidable encounter with him felt like tearing the scab off a wound that hadn't even started to heal.

Classes became a kind of silent torture. He was always there, just a few meters away, and you could feel his presence like an electric current pulsing in the air. Sometimes, your eyes would meet for a brief moment, and he’d smile hesitantly, almost as if he were trying to offer some form of comfort.

But there was no comfort to be found.

You started changing seats in classes, picking places farther away. You walked through the hallways with your eyes on the floor, avoiding any chance of crossing paths with him. When he was with James or Sirius, laughing and talking loudly, you found some excuse to leave. Seeing that smile, hearing that laugh, felt like a cruel reminder that his life was going on without interruption while yours was in ruins.

You knew he noticed. Remus Lupin was perceptive, perhaps more than anyone you knew. And that’s why, on an ordinary afternoon, he came over.

The hallway was empty, and you were organizing the books in your bag with slightly trembling hands. When his shadow fell over you, your stomach tightened instinctively.

“Hey,” he began, his voice low and cautious, as if he were walking on glass. “Can I talk to you?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to turn and run, wanted to scream for him to leave you alone. But instead, you just nodded, because running now seemed useless.

He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I... noticed you’ve been avoiding me.” He ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew all too well. “I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

The bitter laugh almost escaped your lips, but you swallowed it. “Like what?” Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but your heart was pounding so hard that it was hard to control.

“Distant.” He took a step closer, but stopped when he saw you recoil, even if it was just a little. “I... hope we’re still friends.”

The word pierced like a sharp blade. Friends. Of course. That was what he wanted from you. What he always wanted. And hearing it, said so gently and sincerely, made it hurt even more.

You wrapped your arms around your body as if that could contain the emptiness spreading inside you. “Friends,” you repeated, testing the word on your lips. It felt strange, bitter, as if it didn’t belong there.

“Yes.” He gave a small, hopeful smile. “I really... I’m so sorry, you know? For everything. I never meant for you to feel like this.”

“I know.” Your response was barely audible. You knew he didn’t want to hurt you. That made it all worse.

There was an uncomfortable silence between you. He seemed to be waiting for something, maybe a confirmation that everything was okay. But you couldn’t give him that. Not now.

“I... I need to go,” you finally said, your voice trembling as you slung the bag over your shoulder.

“Of course,” he replied, a little hurriedly. “But... we’re okay, right? I just want you to know, if you need me, I’m here.”

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to breathe, trying to stop the pain from overflowing once more. When you opened them, you forced a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine, Remus. Thank you.”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked quickly, feeling the tears threatening to fall.

As you turned the corner, you leaned against the wall for a moment, your eyes burning and your breath heavy. He wasn’t cruel. He would never be. And maybe that was exactly what made it all so unbearable.

Night had fallen over Hogwarts, and the castle was immersed in a heavy silence. You were in the farthest corner of the common room, where no one seemed to notice your presence. The only company was the fireplace, its flames flickering irregularly, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

In your hands, the letter you wrote weeks ago trembled slightly. The parchment was crumpled and worn at the edges, as if it had been handled countless times but never read by anyone other than you.

You remembered exactly the moment when you wrote it, the words flowing like a confession from your heart. It was everything you wanted to say to him. All the feelings that had been growing, gaining strength and life of their own. You had poured out every thought, every heartbeat, with the naive hope that he might feel the same.

But now, all that remained was a useless piece of paper.

You smoothed the parchment carefully, your fingers tracing the words written in your hesitant handwriting. Each sentence seemed to mock you now, like a cruel reminder of everything you felt and everything that would never be returned.

The flame of the fireplace seemed to call to you, its warmth offering a final solution to the weight you carried. With a trembling sigh, you stood up, feeling your heart tighten in your chest.

You hesitated for a moment, the letter still firmly held in your hands. Part of you wanted to keep it, hold onto it as a reminder of something that once mattered. But another part of you knew you needed to let go, even if it meant releasing something you never truly had.

"I could never be enough for you, could I?" you whispered to no one, your voice barely above a thread.

Finally, you brought the parchment closer to the flame, and it began to burn slowly. The edges darkened and curled, the fire consuming the words that once seemed so important. You watched each line disappear, one after another, until all that remained was ash and embers.

The pain in your chest was unbearable, but you stood there, motionless, watching as the last particles of the letter were carried away by the wind from the fire. It felt like watching the end of something that never had the chance to begin.

You sat on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest, the tears finally falling freely. They burned, hot and relentless, as you wondered how it was possible to feel so much for someone who would never look at you the same way.

Despite everything, you knew you still loved him. That was the cruelest part of all. Even after all the pain, all the rejection, you couldn’t simply turn off your feelings. He was still the one who made your heart race, who inhabited your dreams, who carried the weight of your hopes and fears.

But he would never be yours.

[peachpitfics]

Loml

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: You have been married six months, and it is fresh hell trying to conceive an heir with somebody you are repulsed by. Luckily, your old friend is willing to help you get through it while your husband is out of town.

Length: 2.6k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Infidelity/adultery, themes allude to SA with unwanted husband (not described or mentioned), cunnilingus, face sitting, oral sex (male & female receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, sex for the sake of breeding, breeding kink?, orgasm.

a/n: This is part ii of Wildest Dreams, requested by anon here! This turned out a little more angsty than I had planned!

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Six months ago, your father inflicted the cruelest curse upon you when he married you off to his vilest friend, Lord Howard. Six months of marriage, six months of scheduled contact, attempting to make an heir. Agreeing to once per month, having to allow Lord Howard access to your body in order to do so, six attempts were far too many already.

As soon as Lord Howard informed you of his business travel plans, you began thinking about Benedict Bridgerton. Somebody you thought about relentlessly, however, in this case, you were hoping to hold him to a promise he had made you earlier in the year.

Immediately penning a letter addressed to him at Bridgerton House, with details regarding location, date and time. The staff had been quite loyal to you since moving into the grand house. Most of your time was spent in the country, avoiding your new husband – the service staff there thought you were a gift from heaven, far too good for the old codger, as they called him. They looked after you, and you ensured the same for them. They would keep your secret.

Benedict arrived by carriage a week later, the afternoon after your husband’s departure, having written to accept your invitation, but only to discuss what had been promised in the past. Benedict looked the same, but cleaner, his hair shorter. He looked grown up. He stepped from the carriage, baring in easeful smile, just for you.

“Lady Howard” He bowed properly, it felt like a jive.

You did not speak a word, jumping forward and into his arms, throwing yours around his neck. It was the first time you’d felt safe in months. Benedict’s eyes flicked between the housekeeper, the footman and you, desperately trying to understand if this was okay.

“They are my friends; they would never harm me. I know it is strange, but they really do help me keep my secrets” You tried to reassure Benedict, whispering in his ear.

“It is not strange, it is very country, I suppose,” His arms tightened around your back, lifting you off the ground slightly, “I have missed you. I did write” Benedict squeezed.

“I know,” You let him go, holding out a hand to walk him into the house, “I have your letters hidden in my dressing room. I do apologise for not replying” Ben took your hand and followed you into the house, leaving his luggage on the carriage for the staff to care for.

Benedict was amazed by the house, its long concrete walls and vaulted ceilings. It felt similar to a castle, empty and cold. After your evening meal, you took Benedict for a walk around the gardens. Two swings hung from the branch of a very old tree nearby, one of your favourite places to hide from Lord Howard.

“Where has he gone to?” Benedict asked, lighting a cigarette and passing it to you.

“France… I think. I was not paying very much attention when he was speaking. I was too focused on getting you here. I have been waiting for months, building rapport with the staff, friendships even. I just needed him to leave, so we could do this right” You stuttered, watching your feet dangle as you swung back and forth.

Benedict paused, taking the cigarette back and drawing in, “It has not been going well then?” The question was serious, but even he snorted when he got the words out.

“We have been intimate too many times already. I thought this was supposed to be easy. Women get pregnant all the time” You sighed.

“Yes, when they do not mean to of course. Also, you must account for your husbands age” Benedicts eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“Please, do not call him that” You interrupted.

Benedict exhaled heavily, “That is who he is, y/n. He is your husband. If we do this, we commit infidelity. There are consequences for such acts, are you prepared to accept those consequences?” Benedict asked. You had not ever seen him quite this serious. It scared you, seeing what six months will change in a person.

“I am!” You said adamantly, one stiff nod of assurance. There was no way you could take any more of this. One child, that was all you needed, to make it all stop.

You reached over to Benedict’s swing, his sweet face resting on the rope, thumb caressing his cheek, “Will you be able to live with this? Your child, raised as another mans? Never being their father, or having a role in their lives?” You asked, hoping it was not too cold a question. Benedict pulled slightly away from your touch.

“That is what I wanted to speak to you about…” Benedict whispered, “I know that Lord Howard is your husband and that I am too late, y/n. I will give you a child, if I can. I will give you as many as you damn well want. But I must know that after Lord Howard has passed, you will come to me” Benedicts eyes were soft and glassy in the moonlight, the burning ember of the cigarette fading in his laxed hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head and closed your eyes. How could you make such a promise?

“I do not care if the old bastard lives another 20 years, y/n, I will wait. I will wait in torment for you. Even if I must spend the next decade in hell, learning to bend time, I will. And if we are only allowed a short time together, then so be it because whether it be 5 minutes or 50 years, it will still never be enough time. There is an inexhaustible amount of love for you in my heart. I did not recognize it before, I was selfish and hopeless. The two of you will come home to me, and we will be deliriously happy” Benedict dreamed aloud, starry eyed.

You sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other with tragic longing deep set in your eyes.

Benedict’s eyes cleared, his smile faded, “I know you love me” He breathed boldly.

You jaw clenched shut, your eyes closed over slowly, a single tear running down the far side of your face so Benedict could not see.

“I love you,” He howled toward the moon, “I loved you the moment I saw you. I have adored your passion and cherished your friendship, while cowering in the frozen solitude of my own mind. I have dreamt of you and our life together every day since your marriage date, stirring in agony, every night. Every time I close my eyes, the profound pit of blackness inside consumes me – until I wake again, then my existence is marred by its lack of yours. Your name haunts my tongue, its ineffable song too wistful a sound on my lips. I am left stumbling through life, scattered across the universe, searching for you” His once invincible foolhardiness nowhere to be seen. The peaceful eloquence of his voice so familiar to you, always a poet.

Standing from your swing, hand outstretched to Benedict, you tried to allow your eyes to do the speaking. His sad, desperate eyes, staring up at you in solemn hope, his hand bound for yours. You escorted him inside in silence, the air surrounding dense with disquiet. Leading Benedict into your bedroom, separate from the Master bedroom, you closed the door behind him.

Locking eyes in malicious yearning, your bodies came together, navels pressed, hands roaming across every inch of your torso. Benedict grasped the back of your neck, enchanted look in his eyes as he littered kisses along your jawline and down your throat. You breathed heavily under his lips, breasts heaving against his chest. Reaching around for the bows on your dress, undoing them as quickly as you could, desperate to shed your clothes for him, Benedict palmed at your breasts through your dress. He halted his movements when he noticed your hurry and began stripping himself down also.

“I have been thinking, of one thing in particular, all these months” Benedict panted, leading you over to your bed. You nodded, waiting for him to elaborate. Benedict laid, his back to the bed, your hands in his, guiding you over top of him. You hovered over his nude hips, he smiled cheekily, waving you up higher. You frowned down at him, completely confused by what he was asking. He tugged you upward, your knees resting either side of his head.

“You will have to trust me” He gave a soft, dreamy smile as you gave him a befuddled one back, bare behind resting on his chest. You pursed your lips, Benedicts hands digging into your hips pulling you down onto his face. His breath hot against your skin, his wet tongue sinking betwixt your folds, starting gently at your clit. You jerked in animated surprise, finding yourself lowering back down instinctively. Benedict’s hands kneaded your behind, rolling your hips down onto his tongue. You had done your darndest to replicate the way Benedict made you feel, to no avail, at a complete loss for how you would miss his devastating body.

Your fingers tangled into his hand, drinking in every tangible flick of his tongue against your clit. His lips pressed, sucked and kissed at you, pulling you further into his indulgent dreamland. Benedict’s big, blue eyes staring up at you, grinding down on his face, his premeditated attack on you began, wrapping his flexed arms around your thighs and holding you firmly in place. Blinding pleasure laved over you, your eyes uncontrollably clamping shut so hard you swore you saw every colour imaginable. Screaming Benedict’s name, his amused tongue swirling you to completion, you panted animalistically, unable to move.

“That was incredible. I do not believe I could have prepared myself for how much better that was going to be outside my dreams” Ben moaned into your pussy, lapping at your juices, drinking you in. You rested a moment, watching Benedicts crowning smile, his asinine eyes filled with everything else he wanted to do with you.

Freeing Benedict from beneath you he shuffled up the bed, resting upright against the grand wooden bedhead, his legs out in front of him.

“Shall we try?” Benedict asked delicately.

“Please” You whimpered, crawling to him, taking his cock in your hand.

You laid between his legs a moment, holding him in your hands, moving gently. Leaning forward to kiss his tip, your tongue flicked over his pink flesh, Benedict could not help but moan. Taking him into your mouth, you sunk down in long hot strides, pressing his cock to the back of your throat. His fingers wrapped into your hair, pulling you onto him further. Benedict relished your working on him, libidinous smile engraved on his face, pure bliss.

“I do not think that is how one makes a baby” Benedict chuffed, pulling you up quickly, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. Face to face, you grinned into his splendidly hot kisses, his hand slipping between the two of you to situate himself. You felt his tip nudging against your entrance, hard and waiting, slipping inside of you. You gasped loudly, burying your face into his neck as a biological urge forced you to bounce.

Benedict growled lowly into your ear as you moved into a groove together, slow and tedious in perpetual delight. Benedict placed his hand in the smallest of gaps between you, his thumb adjacent to your clitoris; every movement, sinking to his hilt, he brushed against you softly. You were not aware that it could happen more than once, your heart quickened aggressively, Benedict tongue descending into your mouth as you whimpered louder and louder. Nails embedded into Ben’s shoulders, blood nearly drawn, your eyes holding his gaze, sheer hunger lived in his eyes. Hunger for you. Your pussy began quivering around him, aching, throbbing, trying desperately to take in more of him. Excruciating pleasure erupted from you, grasping his cock hard from within, your legs shook as your wetness spread between the two of you. Benedict did not stop this time, taking his hands to your hips as you ceased moving, manipulating your movements, grunting into your neck. Every time he led you to release, he seemed to get harder, more attracted to you. You did your best to get deep breaths in, to bring yourself back to reality, his cock still pounding into you steadily made it difficult. His teeth edge to edge in painstaking need, his forceful hands and powerful thrust told you he was close.

“Please,” Your voice rang out, his eyes needy and frenzied, “Please, Benedict, put that baby in me!” You continued to beg, his ragged panting and dreary eye contact wavering as you took control of your body again, bouncing heartily onto his cock. Every muscle in his body seemed to tighten at the same time, his hands aggressively pressing you down, as he groaned and grunted fiercely. You squeezed him inside, gently rolling your hips forward, feeling his cock pulsate inside you.

Benedict’s head rested against the bed head, his breath uneven and heart throbbing in his chest. Attempting to get off him, to allow him room to breathe, Benedict stopped you. He blinked himself back to this plane of existence.

“No, it helps if we stay like this” He explained through puffs.

“Really?” You frowned, never having thought about it.

“Yes,” He nodded frantically, “If we stay like this, everything will stay inside” He explained. You hummed in agreement, thinking perhaps that was what you had been doing wrong. Whatever it was that you were doing wrong, you were glad for it. If this made you an adulterer, a traitor, a betrayer, you did not care. Not for this.

Your hands rest on Benedicts chest, fingers splayed in brown chest hair, your eyes lingering over his collar bones and shoulders.

“What are you doing?” He asked, feeling rather observed.

“Taking you in” You purred, taking mental pictures in case you never saw him again. Benedicts hand rose to your face, his thumb rolling over your bottom lip, sliding down your neck to lure you into his most romantic kiss yet. Moments later, Benedict allowed you to slide off him, laying you with your legs up parallel to the headboard. You wondered how many more times you would get to feel like this.

“Shall I leave in the morning?” Benedict asked, a tremble in his voice.

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed, Benedict lying next to you, a huge grin on his face.

“I joke, my Lady” Benedict laughed as you shoved him gently.

“You will be staying the entire week. I will hold you prisoner if I must” You chortled.

“Excellent, better treatment than home I expect. I will take it” Benedict stretched, every strained muscle flexing in exhilarating sex appeal. “We need every opportunity if we’re to make this baby” He smiled, thrilled at the chance to say such things, hoping one day his babies would come home to him.

“That is not the only reason I want you to stay” You said mellifluously, your soft, thoughtful eyes inspecting his reactions. Benedict frowned placidly, unsuspecting of your joyful surrender.

“You are the love of my life, Benedict Bridgerton,” Tears welled grievously, guileless love calm in your smile, “We will be together. I will be your wife, and I will bring our children home to you”.

Benedict leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, unhurried and glorious. Tears streamed down his face, amazed and implicit, his sureness of his love for you unwavering.

“How ever long it takes, whatever I must do, we will be together” Benedict smile was humble, but fearless.

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

Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @dollarstore-lydia-deetz // @newavenger // @lifealot // @rosie-posie08 // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

[venusincleo]

Time. iii.

Part One [i]. ♡ Part Two [ii].

Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Aaron Pierre x Black!Reader, smoking, a lil angst, a lil fluff, teasing, p in v, creampie, slight overstimulation, pet names, DDLG kink, BDSM themes, Soft!Aaron, omniscient POV and more...

BKG/Summary: As you and Aaron maintain your budding love in your long distance relationship, your respective careers continue to grow exponentially. Your writing has picked up wonderfully, and your newest work is to hit local shelves with pre-orders out for delivery. When there is a snag in production and they print the wrong cover, fans are rightfully mad but have no one to blame but you. To help cope with the stress, you call Aaron, hoping that he can talk you down but as he's busy himself, all you get is solutions. To make up for his lack of sensitivity to a moment that may very well be formative to your career, he gets a one way flight to see you.

Word Count: 3.8k❣

A/N: ✴︎Happy New Year!✴︎ Tell me how you liked this one 💗🫶🏾

• • •

right now i need your loving, one way flight ain't nothin'... - NYL by Phabo

Light smoke billowed from your lips, taking the color of the bronze sky as you blew it out of your large window. Your eyes low and your mind clear, you gazed into the horizon, thanking God for the beauty He had painted ions ago. You gazed along the limited foliage and bustling street underneath your apartment building, and couldn’t help giggling at the fact that everything seemed to be orange under the filter of the sunset.

As your mind was numbed from any of the day's events, you thought back to the person you would have loved to share this moment with. Earlier in your hectic day, you had called him for some relief from life’s unexpected symptoms but you did not get the reaction you desired. Wise but stern motivations took the place of the gentle words you thought you were sure to receive.

Then, your yearning tone turned defensive, and that was not pretty. Before you knew it, you and Aaron had had a small spat about his tone, and then you were hanging up in his face.

It wasn’t like you needed him to make things better, but you at least hoped that he would love on you enough for you to see the solution for yourself. Instead, he made it seem like he was too busy to handle your emotions in the moment, like he was unable to make the time. Though, two short minutes of affirmations would have sufficed, no doubt.

Now, you were okay with not speaking to him for the rest of the day. You wanted to feel your high for as long as humanly possible.

With a levitating sway of your hips, you allowed your bare feet to usher you back into your living room, your patterned maxi dress flowing behind you as you turned up your speaker. As Jhene Aiko’s voice heightened in volume, you rolled your body to her sensual lyrics, joint in the air.

'Let’s go half on a son, how far do you wanna go? Ohhhhh…'

Just as you brought your herb back to your lips to take in a long puff, your phone rang, interrupting the music. Breathing out the smoke quickly, you rush to your phone, ready to decline the call when you see the contact photo. Aaron.

A deep sigh rushes past your lips as you press the green button, taking a drag from your j as you see the call connecting. Distracted by nothing in particular, Aaron’s eyes take a moment to focus on your face through the screen, but once he does, he scoffs in near disbelief.

“I see you found an outlet.” His deep voice is littered with droplets of venom, and you roll your eyes as you breathe out the smoke you were holding.

“I would much rather have something else for that but, here I am.” You are involuntarily calm, your logical mind wanting to give him back what he was dishing. But physically, the effects of the weed wouldn’t even allow you to be phased. You were just…there.

“Anyways, did you call for something or what? Cause I’m busy…” You bend down to your coffee table to ash your joint in your pretty glass tray, and then your red eyes meet Aaron’s on your FaceTime. He hears a hint of reciprocation of the energy he gave you this morning, and his eyes soften, his natural pout a bit more defined.

“Uh, yeah…I’m outside.” Without much thought to his words, you smack your teeth, and look at your j, examining the neatly rolled herb inside.

“Okay, nigga.” All he can do is chuckle at your reaction, and you look at your screen to see what’s so funny.

“No, I’m really,��� He begins, and then you hear three knocks echoing on either side of your phone. “Outside.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you set your joint down in your tray and go to your front door. A quick glance through your peephole is all it takes to see Aaron’s large frame waiting right on the other side, and you instantly hang up the phone. After unlocking it, you swing your door open and meet Aaron’s eyes.

Every feeling that you had been avoiding bubbled up quickly, like seeing him was the last straw. Shit. You cursed yourself internally. You didn’t want to fold under his intense blue eyes, but as his softened demeanor waits to be welcomed in, tears sting at the sides of your eyes. Blinking to try and keep the waterworks at bay, you step aside and allow a space for him to make his entrance, looking off into the distance of your apartment.

Once he steps in, and waits for you to close your door, he watches you turn on your heel to face him. Soft steps in your direction lead him to the space right in front of you, and he leans his head down to be face to face with you.

“Come here.” His English accent sticks to his deep voice, and he places his hands on your hips to pull you in closer. You almost allow him to hug you, but as he begins to nestle his face in your neck, you reach your hands up to push him away from you.

“No. You hurt me, Aaron.” He keeps his stature, silently flexing his strength over you, but he moves back a little to try and respect your wishes. The tears continue to flood your eyes, but at this point, you don’t care anymore. You want him to see how he made you feel, you need him to.

Seeing you so upset with him makes Aaron’s chest tighten with worry. It wasn’t his intention to make you cry, it never was. But he couldn’t help but notice the tears threatening to spill over your lower lid at any moment.

“Y/N, please. I’m sorry.” His tone is soft, maybe the softest it’s been all day, and you find yourself looking up into his slightly upturned eyes. You want to kiss him so bad, just say ‘fuck it’ to all the points you had in mind to make to him. But you had to at least bring up the most pressing one, your mind wouldn’t allow you to forget it.

“Aaron, I-…” You begin, shaking your head as you try to form your words in a neutral way. A tear falls onto your cheek as you find just what you want to convey.

“You won’t always be able to pop up on me like this; phone calls are our primary form of communication right now. If you’re too busy for calls then maybe we should rethink this relationship.”

“I’m not too busy for your phone calls, Y/N. Today was just a bit stressful for me too but, I had no right to take that out on you.” His hands rub at your sides as he gazes into your eyes. “Truly, I apologize.”

A moment of quiet falls between the two of you, and you take in a deep breath, releasing it into the room.

“Thank you.” Your voice was near a whisper, as you took in his second apology. Comfortable now, that the two of you were on the same page, even if only for tonight, you reach your arms around Aaron’s neck, peering up into his pretty eyes yet again. Instantly, he pulls your body into his and brings his hand to your face to wipe your fallen tear.

A lush peck laces the lack of space between each of your lips, and then finally Aaron gets the hug that he yearned for. His strong arms squeeze around your body as he rests his head in the space of your shoulder and his large hands find their ways to the skin of your back. You feel his supple lips on your neck and you breathe in slowly, smelling the distinct scent of his luxury cologne mixed in with his pheromones. Your mouth nearly waters at the perfection of the warm, clean notes of his fragrance.

"I don't like seeing you cry, pretty girl." He rasps against your neck, sending tingles down your spine.

"I know." You run a dainty hand down his neck, along his shoulder and bicep, squeezing at the toned muscle. Mmm.

"Not unless Papa is making you feel that good." He trails his hands down your body, resting at your plump ass to give it a squeeze. Hearing your whispered gasp at his gesture, he brings his face back parallel to yours so he can see your expression.

Doe eyes stare up into his lowered ones, the energy in the room long past shifted, and waiting to be acted upon.

"You want me to make you feel good?" Your eyes flicker from his lowered gaze to his full pink lips, your vision shadowed by your long eyelashes.

“Yes.” As your vision is fixed on his pretty mouth, Aaron leans forward to seemingly give you what you want. But just when your lips get close, he pulls away, his intense glare demanding your attention.

Looking up into his eyes yet again, you press your body further into his, craving so desperately to feel his kiss. Instead of a kiss though, Aaron brings a strong hand to your shoulders, pushing your lovely black kinks out of his way. Sure enough, his tender hand wraps around your neck tautly, and he pulls your face right up to his.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” His chest rises and falls quicker as he watches your lips purse to reply to him.

“I want you to make love to me.” He closes in on your lips but when your eyes don’t leave his, he waits just a moment for your other requests.

“Start slow.” Your tone is breathy as you express just what you wanted and needed from your night. The ghost of a grin plays at Aaron’s lips, and then they finally connect with yours.

He parts his mouth almost instantly, the fulfilled desire of your tongue on his causing a soft moan to escape his lips. You aimlessly fight for balance, your tongues playing a tug of war you were okay with losing as long as it continued. Aaron’s hold on your neck stays firm for a few moments later, and then he slowly lets you go, bringing his strong hands to your ass through your flowing dress.

Your sure hands move to his shoulders to push his suit jacket off of his frame, and his arms leave your body to pull the tweed fabric off of him rather quickly. He throws his jacket to the side with no real regard for where it lands, and soon, his arms are back around you.

Aaron lifts you like you’re nothing, allowing your body to straddle his waist as he holds you up by your thighs. You don’t disconnect for any longer than a second, as you continue to press your needy kiss into his thick lips, feeling his hungry reciprocation. As you focus on the warm breath filling the space between your lips, and the secure hold you’re in, your body can’t help but react, your natural lubrication easing from between your thighs.

“Mm.” You grind your body against his, the friction of the clothes between you both being just enough to stimulate your throbbing clit. You whine against his lips, and he pulls away from the kiss to see your flustered face, as you bite your lip.

Seeing just how dire it is for you to feel something right now, Aaron carries you to your couch, where he lays you down softly. He lays over you as you keep your eyes locked on him, bringing a hand to your cheek as he presses his lips back into yours. As he delivers one of his slow, torturously enticing kisses, he rubs his hardened shaft against your heated core, grinding his hips against yours through your clothes.

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel yourself get wetter because of his efforts, and energy rushes through your body.

“Fuck, baby.” You breathe out, nearly being overcome with the feeling of him grinding into you. A deep breath leaves Aaron’s vocal cords in a gruff, stuttered tone, and he rubs himself against you just once more, pulling back just slightly to reach up your dress for your panties. But, when he feels nothing but your plush skin, he blinks slowly as he tries to contain his excitement.

As he takes his time pushing your dress up your body to reveal your moisturized melanin, his eyes trail past your hips, your navel, your torso and your chest to meet your pretty brown eyes yet again. Your eyelashes flutter against your cheek as you watch him intently, having a hint of an idea of what he’s about to do.

Gently, he tugs at the airy fabric of the dress you are barely wearing now, and his eyes turn stormy with desire.

“Take this off.”

You obey quickly, pulling the dress over your head and tossing it to the floor beside the couch. When your eyes meet his again, he lets a moment pass before he’s tugging his chocolate brown shirt off of his own body, revealing his soft, honey-toned skin and the rippled muscles under it. Your eyes instantly attach to the greek sculpture of his body, and you bite your lip absentmindedly as you caress his limbs with your gaze.

Under your longing specs, Aaron only leans himself forward, his body drawn to the thought of your willful and wanton touch. Catching on to his wants now, you sit up and allow your hands to grasp onto his waist, pulling him into you tenderly as your eyes flicker up to view his face.

Almost completely overtaken by the needs of your flesh, you place a series of supple kisses along Aaron’s abs. Your eyes don’t leave his stare as you decorate his skin with small pecks, teasing him just a little. But as his mind is dead set on how pretty your face is from this angle –and the tingles that erupt underneath his skin wherever your delicate hands are holding him– soft moans sneak through his lips.

Your skin heats at every moan, as they get more and more pronounced, and you get a bit sloppier with your technique. Instead of the innocent feather-light kisses you were delivering before, you part your lips to widen your kiss along his skin. Your wet kisses sound in the quiet room, ad-libbing over the music that had started back up on its own some time ago. The song you make is just enough to make Aaron even harder, and his whispered sounds of pleasure harmonize perfectly with your energy.

“Lay back.” He keeps his composure the best he can, his mind swirling with thoughts of you taking control of him and doing whatever you wanted. Yet, as you layed against the yielding cushions of your couch, luscious brown skin glistening underneath the dim light in your living room, all he knew is the only place he wanted to be, was with you. And he’d be damned if he messed it up over a phone call.

Slow hands reached for the button of his pants, and he took his time undoing the fastens that kept the fabric up on his hips. His movements sped up just a little as he got the pants off of his legs, and across the room, out of the way. The black breifs that once decorated his lower body are close behind, and then it’s just you and him.

Aaron’s kisses start at your feet, feather-light, gentle. He allows himself whatever pacing he found reasonable, for cherishing every piece of you. His lips trail up your calve, his large hand holding your leg in place as he nuzzles his nose in your skin to smell the luscious lotions you had put on hours earlier. As he gives the same amount of attention to your other leg, his kiss tender as ever as he memorizes every detail of your skin down to tracing scars, you can see just what his intentions are.

Your eyes water just a little as you watch him make a mental note of all of your details, goosebumps raising along your skin as he runs his strong hand along every inch. A gasp leaves your lips as the dopamine surging through your veins makes way for your skin to be even more heated, more pliable, more sensitive to his touch. He looks up for a moment to check in and when he sees your beautiful eyes staring back at him, a small grin raises on his lips.

The smile falls as he kisses up each of your thighs, the puddle between them worsening as he got closer. His lips fall onto the side of your thighs, traveling to your hips and the stretch marks that came with your grown woman weight. He caressed the skin adoringly, littering smaller kisses on each stripe of lighter skin he found. The breath caught in your throat as you thought of the implications of his doting actions, and the tears that had welled in your eyes were threatening to spill over.

“Aaron..” You called for him in a near-cry. Instantly, he brought his face right in front of yours, and you ran your hands along his shoulders, pulling him between your legs. His thick lips captured yours without any direction, and you kissed back eagerly, your manicured digits easing into the short curls on the back of his head. He drags the kiss on for a few more seconds, readying himself at your slick opening. When you feel his thick tip easing in just slightly, you wrap your legs around his waist tightly, trying to brace yourself for his length.

“You are so special to me, Y/N.” He mumbles against your lips before he pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t care.” You reach your hand up to cup his cheek, as he continues to speak his heart to you.

“I love you, Y/N.” Aaron gives your lips a lush peck before he presses his forehead against yours, easing his throbbing cock into your wetness. You growl softly at the familiar feeling, a slight pressure reminding you of your first time together.

“Mmh, I love you too.” You whine, feeling him pull back out slowly, to thrust once again before he caught a swifter rhythm. All you can do is draw in more air, your exhales laced with high pitched exclamations of unexpected bliss.

“Daddy’s so sorry, princess.” He goes to nestle his face in the crook of your neck as he continues to make love to you a bit recklessly. Your breathing gets faster, your chest heaving up and down as you feel your climax rushing through your soma.

“Aghhh.” You squeal lightly, throwing your head back at the overwhelming feeling of his thickness going in and out, in and… out…in…and…out. Aaron recognizes your falsetto-esc moans, and leaves kisses on your ear before he whispers to you.

“Ugh, this alright?” He asks, his deep moans doing nothing but making it worse for you to concentrate on breathing right.

“Yes, baby… Shittttt…ugh y- so thick.” You almost hoped that he would take it easier on you, but Aaron had no such plans. His strong hands reached to your legs that were crossed behind his back, and pushed them up so that your knees touched your chest.

Carefully, he pulled out of you, staring down at your connection and the tracings of your pussy juices that decorated your folds, and his entire length. A gravelly moan leaves his vocal cords as he slides back into your opening, you welcoming him in with the tightest fit, and your eyebrows turn upward at such a fill.

“Fuckkk. I’m ‘bout to cum, baby.” Your whiny confession is followed by a hearty moan, and then you cover Aaron in your essence, dripping down your cunt to the couch beneath you, and circling his cock in the process. He slows down just a little bit, though he has no intentions of stopping, and leans toward you to give you the most silken kiss. Then, as he pulls away from your lips, gazing down into your eyes, he thrusts at this new, slower rhythm.

“Mmh, pussy so good.” A growl laced his mumbled words, as he fought the urge to pick up the pace even slightly. With rushed, panting breaths, he reached his hand up to your neck and grasped it just tight enough.

You feel a jump in the pit of your stomach as he works your core, effectively digging yet another nut out of you. As you feel just a little overstimulated, you reach up to his hand that is wrapped around your neck, and hold his wrist in place. You wouldn't dare tell him to stop. But it was so much, and he was so girthy... you didn't know how much more you could take.

Eyes glossy, you let in a deep breath, hoping to regulate yourself but instead, all you do is moan out loudly. You throw your head back yet again, this time unintelligible whimpers and mumbles leave your mouth, and a tear runs down the side of your face.

"A-Aaron." You croak quietly, grabbing at his hips with your free hand. You find yourself grasping at any flesh of his that is visible to your hazy eyes, and he just sighs in delight.

He bites his lip to try and stifle his own cries but moans slip through his teeth so eloquently, you can tell he's close. His strokes never falter; they just get sturdier, firmer. Soon, he's squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment to hold on for as long as he can.

With a few more thrusts and a couple more loud moans, he was releasing all of his gooey, warm elixir right inside of you.

“Ohh.” You breathe out tiredly, another wave rushing over you in your trembling climax.

Aaron pulls out of you tenderly now, hearing your combined moisture sound lewdly in the room. When he saw the mixture ease from your slightly stretched opening, he smiled boyishly and placed a kiss on your forehead and then your lips. You hum lovingly, revelling in the feeling of him giving you the soft Aaron you'd craved all day.

The two of you share a quiet beat, just trying to catch your breaths. And then a resolution pops into your head.

“I need this every day. Every once in a while ain’t cutting it.” You express, still catching your breath from your great session. He chuckles at your forwardness, and pecks your lips yet again as he thinks about how he could make such a request happen for you.

“Then maybe…I move closer…?” He ventures, just a bit unsure. With sparkling eyes, and a hand to his cheek you assure his suggestion with a bit of levity.

“Maybe you should.”

• • •

I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

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[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Elixir - pt.ii

wednesday addams x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: Wednesday’s sudden affectionate behavior has you feeling all sorts of conflicted… You need to find a way to reverse this elixir, and fast!

word count: 4.4k

————

Wednesday looks at you expectingly awaiting a response. Her dark eyes look at you in a way that feels...different.

"Wednesday, what was that?" You ask, trying to keep your voice calm while gesturing to the empty glass bottle.

For the first time since you've known the girl, she hesitates. "It was... nothing," she replies, though her voice lacks its usual certainty.

During this entire exchange, you notice that Enid is unusually quiet, not her typical inquisitive self, and you find it strange since this situation especially should call upon those traits of hers.

Almost like she read your mind, Enid speaks, "Wednesday, why did you drink from that bottle?"

But Wednesday isn't listening. Instead, she steps closer to you, her gaze inviting and seductive. "You know," she begins, her voice unusually soft, "there's something about you that I find... compelling."

Your heart skips a beat, confusion mixing with a hint of fear. "Wednesday, what are you talking about?"

"I mean," she continues, her tone almost... tender?  "I've always appreciated your spirit, your defiance. There's a fire in you that's hard to ignore."

You blink, utterly bewildered.  Your eyes widen as realization starts to hit, "Enid, I think that bottle wasn't just any potion. It could be a love potion!" You whisper the last part.

"Oh my god a love potion?!" you exclaim, letting the words you spoke settle in.  You take a step back as Wednesday moves even closer, her eyes still locked onto yours.

"Wednesday, snap out of it!" you say, your voice a mix of panic and desperation.

But Wednesday just smiles, an expression so out of place on her usually stoic face that it sends chills down your spine. "Why would I want to snap out of it?  Being close to you feels... right."

Wednesday steps even closer leaving little to no room between you two.  She grips the knot of your tie while maintaining eye contact with you, and slowly wraps your tie around the fist of her other hand. Just as she was about to tug on your tie, Enid quickly steps in, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from Wednesday's reach. "Come on, we need to figure out how to reverse this, now."

You nod, your mind racing. You both run out of the dorm room and bolt to the East Wing library knowing that it will be empty.  The vampires think they're too elite to hold their book club in any place other than the grand library and that worked in your favour for once.

You and Enid frantically catch your breath as you collapse onto the couches in the library.

"You okay?" Enid asks, "You're quite red."

"I-I just, that was so out of character for Wednesday, did you hear the things she was saying to me?" You say flustered, gripping the knot of your tie, the very spot Wednesday was holding a moment ago.  Loosening your tie, you cover your face with both your hands and groan into them.

Enid laughs, "Hmm are you blushing Y/n/n?"

"Absolutely not," you feel your face burn up even more and refuse to take your hands away from your red cheeks until you've cooled down a little. 

"Okay we need to find that book with the potion recipes. It has to be here somewhere."  Enid nods and jumps up into action, heading towards the dusty bookshelves trying to find anything that could help.

Meanwhile you go to another bookshelf, hoping it would give you faster results.  "So we think it's a love potion right?" You yell across the library to Enid.

"Uhh yeah," Enid mutters while flipping through books.

Minutes pass and it's dead quiet in the library. "Found it!" You pull a thick, ancient book from the shelf, the cover worn and faded, with the title Elixirs. "Let's see... love potions, love potions... ahh, here it is!"

As Enid walks toward you, she can't help but notice your blushing cheeks, the way you're fiddling with the edge of your tie, and the panicked state you're in. It's a stark contrast to your usual composed self, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

You start reading aloud, "The Amore Certo, commonly referred to as the Love Potion, is a potent and rare elixir known for its ability to intensify and bring forth feelings of love and affection in the drinker."

Enid nods confirming that this matches what Wednesday seems to be experiencing.

"Upon consumption, the potion works by subjecting the drinker with a deep sense of affection towards the first person they set eyes on. This connection feels natural and all-consuming.  The drinker's heart will race, their thoughts will be consumed by the object of their affection, and they will feel a powerful urge to be near them, showering them with adoration and devotion."

As you read, your heart begins to pound. The words resonate with what you've seen in Wednesday, the way her eyes linger on you, the subtle but undeniable pull between you two.  A part of you wants to rush back to the dorm, just to see if reality aligns with what you're reading.  Only to confirm if this is truly the potion affecting her, of course... no other reason.

"Does it say anything about an antidote?" Enid says getting impatient, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"The only known antidote to the Amore Certo is the Elixir of Clarity, which must be administered within three days of consumption to fully negate the effects.  However, it is said that true love cannot be entirely undone, and a trace of the potion's magic may remain in the heart of the drinker, even after the effects have worn off. Blah blah blah, and look here's a list of ingredients to make the Clarity Elixir." You point to the long list of ingredients while looking at Enid.

The blonde lets out a sigh of relief, "Okay I'm glad we're getting somewhere.  I say we call it a night today, and we'll spend tomorrow making the Clarity Elixir and getting Wednesday back to normal."

"Wait why can't we just start now?"

"Y/n how in the world are you going to get Solar Sun Whiskers at 2 a.m in the morning?" Your friend crosses her arms with a laugh.

With that you and Enid walk back to her dorm room, so you can grab your bag and she can keep an eye on Wednesday for the night. You two decided it was probably for the best if you didn't spend the night sleeping over.

Enid pushes the door open to see Wednesday intently watching the movie that you two had put in earlier.  You look to the tv to see the credits now rolling.

She watched the movie to completion...

"Y/n!" She exclaims finally noticing you and Enid at the door. You freeze as the excitement when seeing you catches you off guard. A very large part of you can't help but secretly enjoy the way her eyes light up when she sees you.

"Wednesday, hey," you respond nervously. "We were uhm, just grabbing my bag."

She stands up from the bed, and walks towards you with a light smile tugging at her lips. "You left before we could finish our evening together. I took the liberty of finishing the film. But we can always start another one if you'd like? Or perhaps we can discuss the film and what we enjoyed about it? If I remember correctly you've seen this one before right?"

It's hard to hear the girl with the sound of your thumping heart. God she's so adorable right now. Watching the girl before you fiddle with her fingers because she's nervous around you, has made you nervous yourself. Discuss the film? That's such a Wednesday expression of love you smile to yourself. You're intrigued that this love potion has shown you what a love sick Wednesday would do and not just make her do the generic romantic things.

Wait what are you thinking. Did you just think Wednesday was adorable? You scold yourself mentally. None of this is real Y/n, this isn't Wednesday, she doesn't actually love you. This is the girl that released spiders in your room to prove a point.

"...in the film he learned a language for the girl he loved. Would you like that Y/n/n? Enid mentioned that you were studying Greek—I could learn it for you if that's what your heart desires.

You ignore the pang in your chest reminding yourself that none of this is real.

Enid looks over to you and sees you struggling, she can understand why, and steps in to break the tension. "Actually, Wens, we were thinking of calling it a night. It's late, and Y/n/n needs to get some rest. We'll hang out more tomorrow, okay?"

The thought of Enid having to console Wednesday over spending time with you feels surreal, but then again, you are friends with a werewolf—anything is possible.

Wednesday's expression falters for a millisecond, a flash of disappointment crossing her face before she masks it with her usual stoic look. "If that's what Y/n wants," she says her tone soft.

Grabbing your bag, you make your way out the door, but something makes you pause, "Goodnight Wednesday," you smile softly, not entirely sure why you felt compelled to do so.

She steps forward, the same intensity in her eyes you've seen for the past couple hours, "Goodnight Y/n."

————

That night you couldn't sleep at all. You were alone in your dorm room twisting and turning disturbed with the events of the day. Not necessarily with Wednesday's actions, but with how they make you feel. Realizing it's in yours and Wednesday's best interest to get some sleep, you finally close your eyes thinking about how in the world you were going to get Solar Sun Whiskers tomorrow.

The next morning began like any other. After getting dressed, you texted Enid, who agreed to meet you outside your dorm. As you gathered your things, a commotion outside your door grew louder, making you roll your eyes in frustration. Why couldn't people be more considerate at 7 a.m.?

Curious about the noise, you opened your door to find dozens of curious eyes staring back at you. Glancing down, you noticed a bouquet lying at your doorstep. Quickly, you scooped it up and retreated back into your room, eager to escape the prying gazes.

You carefully place the bouquet onto your bed and just stared at it. You realize very quickly that the people outside weren't buzzing because they thought you had a secret admirer, but because of the unique arrangement you received.

The bouquet in front of you seemed to be fresh black roses intertwined with small, gleaming knives and arrows, all meticulously wrapped in a blood-red bow.

That's when you notice a small index card stabbed by one of the arrows, with writing on it. Picking it up carefully you begin to read: "Good morning, Mia Cara. I hope you appreciate the flowers. I've included some weapons for your protection, given the recent attacks at the academy. Stay safe."

"Mia Cara?" You repeat back to yourself in a whisper.

"Yeahh," you hear a tired voice drawl behind you. You jump at Enid's voice startled by her appearance. Seems like she let herself in. "She heard me call you Y/n/n yesterday and decided she needed a nickname for you too. After three hours of intense discussion, she finally settled on 'Mia Cara.' Said it was perfect," the werewolf yawns.

A warm blush creeps up your cheeks as you imagine Wednesday sitting there, stubbornly insisting on the perfect name for you. It's both baffling and oddly touching. You shake your head, trying to dismiss the fluttering in your chest. "I can't believe she did that," you murmur, more to yourself than to Enid. You clear your throat, "Come on let's go get those ingredients."

And so you and Enid spend the next four hours, grabbing the ingredients for the Clarity Elixir, some more challenging to obtain than others. After defeating the sun goddess in an intense game of checkers, you've obtained the Solar Whiskers, the final piece needed to brew the reversal potion.

"How are you so good at this?" You ask as you intently watch Enid concoct the potion back at your room.

"Webbers potion making class?" she shrugs, giving the potion one last swirl before using a funnel to pour the liquid into a glass bottle identical to the one Wednesday drank from.

Determined to act quickly, you and Enid rush back to her dorm room. According to the Elixir book, the reversal potion must be administered within three days of consuming the love potion. Time is of the essence, and you're already on day two of this fiasco.

As you approach the familiar hallway you see Xavier Thorpe on his knees pleading for his life, and of course standing in front of him is the Wednesday you're typically used to seeing with a knife in hand.

"I told you! I haven't seen her at all today. There! Look! She's right behind you!" As Wednesday turns to look at you, Xavier scrambles to his feet and runs in the opposite direction.

"Y/n," she hurries over, gently cupping your cheek as she looks you over with concern, as if checking for any injuries. "I was worried when I couldn't reach you today. I even tried contacting Enid, but had no luck," she adds, nodding towards her roommate with a hint of relief.

"Come on, let's head inside," you whisper, keeping your voice as soft as possible. Wednesday's touch has you feeling unusually flustered, and you don't want your voice to give away how affected you are.

"Did you receive my flowers?" Wednesday questions suddenly with a quirk of her head.

"Yes I did, thank you," you respond, while you take notice of Enid laughing to herself. Sometimes you forget to realize how unusual this behavior of Wednesday is, since you're too busy being flustered half the time.

Wednesday hums in satisfaction, "Were you able to see the moon last night from your dorm room?"

You raise an eyebrow, not knowing where she was going with this, "No my window doesn't face that way."

"Such a pity," she begins, glancing toward the balcony on her side of the room. "As I was out there yesterday, all I could think about was how much I longed to ravish you under the moonlight, Mia Cara." She finishes with sincerity, and her eyes even darker, not knowing that was possible.

Enid breaks out into laughter, cackling at the subject matter of Wednesday's words. Never in a million years did you think you'd hear the word 'ravish' come out of Wednesday Addams' mouth. Clearly at a loss for words, Enid takes over.

"I think we should give her the Elixir," Enid says in between laughs, "It seems like the potion's effects becomes stronger as time passes.

All you could do is nod. Enid passes over a vial of the potion to her roommate, and Wednesday takes it in her hands cautiously, looking back at you, almost as if asking is this safe?

Once again you nod, urging her to drink it. You could tell that she was confused, but in the state that Wednesday was in you could tell that she would do anything that you asked of her.

As you wait for the elixir to reverse the potion, you can't help but slightly frown. A small part of you was going to miss this Wednesday that cared so strongly for you, but you also knew that you missed the real Wednesday even more.

Twenty minutes have gone by and Wednesday has moved to sit on her bed. You alternately look at Enid and the girl. "Has it worked?"

"I don't think so," Enid says defeated, "She would've scolded us for staring by now if it did."

"The book said that the clarity elixir works immediately," you say to yourself. "Maybe it'll work gradually?"

Wednesday suddenly speaks, "That tasted horrible."

You and Enid look at each other, "maybe the potion did work," Enid whispers.

"I apologize if my comment about ravishing you under the moonlight made you uncomfortable. But please, don't feel the need to torment me by making me drink these dreadful concoctions, my love," she adds gently.

"Nope, did not work," you groan with a faint blush on your cheeks at the mention of ravishing again.

You hated the inner turmoil you were experiencing.  It was confusing to have Wednesday Addams be the first girl to ever get you flowers and make you blush like you are now. It made you angry that the same girl that thrived off of making you lose control, is the same one you're worrying tremendously about.

Storming out of the room you go back to the library hoping you can figure out how to treat Wednesday fast because you didn't know how much more of this confusion you could take.

Pulling nearly every book you can find about potions out, you were now surrounded by papers and books all about the art of potion making.

"Y/n," Enid's voice gently approaches you after fifteen minutes. You don't respond, still immersed in your search for answers, though it's clear you're not making any progress.

Sensing your frustration, Enid places a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Hey, talk to me. What's going on?"

You sigh, closing the book in front of you. "I don't know, Enid. I don't like seeing Wednesday like this."

"None of us do," she agrees softly. "She's acting like the polar opposite of herself. Poor thing."

"Yeah, there's that," you admit, "but what's really throwing me off is how it's affecting me. I don't hate it, Enid. I don't hate how caring she's being. In fact, it's confusing me... I wouldn't mind experiencing more of it. And that's bad. I shouldn't be getting used to this because none of it's real," you finish, voicing your thoughts for the first time.

As you start to lose hope in finding a solution, a sudden realization hits you.

That potion was originally on Enid's side of the room. She moved it to Wednesday's desk when she almost knocked it over. But why would there be a love potion in Wednesday's dorm? And why hasn't Enid seemed surprised by any of this?

"Enid, did you make that potion?"

Enid freezes, a guilty look crossing her face. "Wait... let me explain, okay?"

You turn to her, desperate for answers. "What is it?"

"Y/n, the potion wasn't a love potion. It was an enhancer. It amplifies pre-existing emotions."

You stare at her, trying to process this revelation. "So, you're saying..."

"Wednesday already had feelings for you," Enid explains gently. "The potion just brought them to the surface."

The realization hits you hard. Beneath all the arguments and tension, there was something more—something neither of you had acknowledged until now.

"But why? Why would you even make something like this?" you ask, genuinely confused and a little hurt.

"It's frustrating that my two best friends can't get along," Enid says sadly. "We learned about this potion in class, and I thought if you drank an enhancer potion, you'd better understand your issues with Wednesday. Maybe then you two could start getting along."

"Wait... hold on. The potion was meant for me?!"

"Yeah," Enid admits, lowering her head. "I thought it would help you figure things out, and maybe if you talked to me about it, I could help bridge the gap between you and Wens so we could all be happy," she finishes with a nervous smile.

You shake your head, trying to make sense of it all. "So why did you let us waste time making the clarity elixir?"

"I honestly thought it might work," Enid says defensively. "A part of me even wondered if I had messed up the potion and accidentally made a love potion instead. I had no idea Wednesday had feelings for you."

This is all too much to take in. You sigh, "Okay, so how do you reverse an enhancer potion?"

"A heartfelt conversation."

"No, seriously, Enid. How do we get Wednesday back to normal?"

"I'm serious, Y/n," Enid insists. "The whole point of an enhancer is to amplify what's already there or reveal what was hidden. A heartfelt conversation, one where you address the things that were left unsaid, will make the enhancer's effects wear off."

"Stay here please," You tell Enid, as you slowly get up and leave the library, walking towards the room where a lovesick Wednesday Addams shall be.

You didn't know what you were doing or what you were going to say, you didn't know how you felt yourself, and how you were going to get Wednesday in the state she was in, to talk about her genuine feelings for you. But you wanted this to be solved sooner rather than later. The weekend was almost over, and you can't have Wednesday making a fool of herself when the school week starts and all students are back on campus.

With a deep breath, you gather your resolve and head towards Wednesday's dorm room. When you reach the door, you pause for a moment, your hand hovering just above the doorknob. What would you even say to her? How do you navigate this tangled mess of emotions and misunderstandings?

And holy shit Wednesday likes you?! You haven't even let yourself process the fact and now it's got you feeling all shy.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you twist the knob and step inside. Wednesday is sitting on her bed, flipping through a book, her expression more serene than you've ever seen. It's unnerving, in a way, seeing her so calm and... content.

She looks up as you enter, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Mia Cara," she greets you warmly, her voice sending a strange flutter through your chest. "I was wondering when you'd come back."

You force a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside you. "We need to talk, Wednesday."

Her eyes narrow slightly, sensing the seriousness in your tone. She sets the book aside and gives you her full attention. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

You take a seat at the edge of the bed, your heart pounding. "This whole situation... it's complicated. I know you're feeling things intensely right now, but I need to know—how much of this is really you? How much of it is the potion?"

Wednesday tilts her head, studying you with that familiar, analytical gaze. Her jaw tightens, her gaze moves to a point just beyond you, as if avoiding your eyes might make the conversation easier. "I don't see how discussing this will change anything."

Hmm so the potion doesn't necessarily make the communication aspect easier.  You are slightly annoyed though, since this means that you have to take more of an emotional burden when talking about your feelings with Wednesday.

"Because it's important," you press, feeling your heart race. "I need to know what's real, Wednesday. This whole weekend, I've seen a side of you that I didn't think existed, and now that it's out there... I need to understand it. I need to understand you."

She's silent for a long moment, her face a perfect mask of indifference. But you can see the tension in her posture, the way her hands are clenched tightly at her sides. Finally, she sighs, a rare sound that tells you how much she's struggling with this.

"I've spent most of my life burying emotions," she admits, her voice low.  "They complicate things, make people weak. I've always believed that.  But then you came along, and for some inexplicable reason, you've managed to... disrupt that order."

You swallow, sensing that you're getting closer to the truth. "What do you mean?"

Wednesday's eyes finally meet yours, and there's a flicker of something vulnerable in them, though she quickly tries to hide it. "You irritate me," she says bluntly. "You make me feel things I'd rather not feel. And that's... problematic."

You let out a soft, almost relieved laugh. "So, I irritate you?"

"Yes," she replies, though there's a slight softening in her tone. "But not in the way you think. It's... more than that. I've tried to ignore it, tried to push it away, but the potion made it impossible."

"So the potion?" you drag out in question, needing Wednesday to explicitly say what you already know.

Wednesday looks down at her hands, clearly struggling to say what she feels despite the help of the potion, but after a minute she speaks, "I didn't fabricate feelings that didn't exist.  It merely amplified what was already there."

You feel your heart skip a beat at her words, the realization slowly settling in.

Wednesday's expression remains inscrutable, but there's a slight hesitation in her voice that you've never heard before.  "What I'm saying, Y/n, is that my feelings for you aren't solely the result of some alchemical concoction. They were there long before."

Finally, you meet her gaze, and in that moment, you know you have to be truthful—not just for her, but for yourself.

"I- I think I like you too," You stammer, the words still being difficult to hear yourself.  I guess there was always something behind those arguments we've had, you were right all along.  Maybe I did want to have those banters with you," you nervously laugh.

"But I'm scared, Wednesday. This is all so new and confusing." You quickly add.

Wednesday reaches out, taking your hand in hers, she gives it a light squeeze, "You're right.  And maybe this is the potion making me talk but I think we'll figure it out."

"Yeah we will," you smile lightly.

"So does this mean the potion will wear off?" Wednesday asks still holding your hand.

"Yeah, according to Enid, a heartfelt conversation was the antidote, and if that wasn't what we just had then I don't know what to tell you," you chuckle.

Wednesday's lips curve into a small smile, and you find yourself mirroring it. Your hands remain clasped together, a silent acknowledgment of the fleeting moment you both know is slipping away. The effects of the enhancer will soon fade, and Wednesday will return to her usual stoic self, guarded and reserved, her displays of affection rare and restrained.

But you're okay with that. Because it's in those quiet moments, in her subtle glances and the unspoken understanding between you, that you've come to cherish her the most. It's the Wednesday you've grown to care for, the one who doesn't need grand gestures to show how much she feels.

————

You wake up the next morning, unsure if the heartfelt conversation had the intended effect. After leaving Wednesday's room when Enid arrived, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you two.

Rolling over, you reach for your phone on the nightstand.  A notification from an unsaved number catches your eye.  As you read the message, a small laugh escapes your lips.

"Looks like the potion wore off."

unsaved number Please tell me Enid was making up that absurd notion about me desiring to 'ravish you under the moonlight.' Such theatrics are beneath me.

[katstarry]

no one noticed

eddie munson x reader

part i

masterlist ☆

part ii | part iii

summary: being paired up for a project with eddie leads to a beautiful friendship, it's inevitable that you gain a crush.

warnings: PINING, slow burn, fluff, slight self-deprecating thoughts?, reader is an academic achiever/seeks academic validation kinda (self insert lmaoo), reader has long hair, the upside down doesn't exist here, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: this is longer than i expected it to be, maybe i'll even make a small series of this :3 lmk if you guys would be interested!

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

the morning started out as it always does.

your alarm wakes you up, you get ready for school, say goodbye to your mom, and maybe grab a quick snack before heading out and driving to school. the usual routine.

it's your senior year, it's supposed to be the best year of high school. though, so far it has been very disappointing. you blame yourself for not being as extroverted as you hoped to be during your freshman year, now you don't have as many friends as middle school you had envisioned.

but you do have robin.

she's been your closest friend throughout the years, having met her in freshman year in the library, where you spent your lunchtime at, and you're okay with just having one close friend. you've come to peace with that. robin has been the bestest friend you've ever had, she's became a confidant, and you never have to put up a front with her. it's easy to talk to her, she has that sort of power somehow. what usually takes you a few weeks to become comfortable with someone new, it had only been a mere few days before being totally comfortable with robin.

as you walk into the school, you walk to your locker, seeing her right beside it.

"hey robin," you smile at her as she moves out the way for you, "good morning."

she returns your smile with her shoulder to the locker beside your own, one bookbag strap hanging from the other, "goood morning!"

you grab the materials you need for the first class of the day, "what's got you so happy this early?" you yawn.

robin shrugs, "can't a woman just be happy to see her best friend?"

rolling your eyes playfully, "of course you can!" you smirk at her, closing the locker and adjusting your bag on your shoulder, "...but maybe it has to do with a certain bandmate of yours?" you whisper.

she gasps, whispering back, "what! no. definitely not, definitely did not talk to her just a few minutes ago."

you laugh as the bell rings, signaling the start of the day.

"guess i'll see you at lunch?"

she nods, "can we go to the cafeteria today instead of the library? forgot my lunch today, woke up late."

you both begin to walk to the direction of your classes, "yeah that's fine, see you there!" giving her a side hug, you both go your separate ways.

it's now your class before lunch, history.

the day has felt longer than usual. you can't wait for it to be over and have your after school nap.

dropping your bag beside your desk, you sit and take out your notebook for the class.

the other students come walking in, he sits in his usual spot behind you.

you sit up straighter, god i'm so embarrassing.

usually, you hate having to have people sit behind you. it always feels like their watching your every move. of course, it's not true, but you can't help but think it. it's why you always sit in the back. but unfortunately, those seats were taken when you had walked in the first day of this class.

it's even worse when you think the person behind you is cute.

you move your hair to your shoulders, hoping it covers the sight to your notebook. you're just shading in the margins.

you look up when the teacher gets up from his desk, class is about to start.

"alright class, let's get started."

he walks over to the door and shuts it, and begins taking attendance.

"well, for today it'll be fairly easy. you won't hear me talk much today," the class let's out sighs of relief, the jocks who get along with him laugh playfully, "alright, alright. you won't be doing that after what i tell you."

oh no. you already know what he's about to say.

"we'll be doing a project! you'll be grouped up in pairs." immediately people begin to look at one another, already knowing who they want to be paired with, you look around, you don't really talk to anyone in that class. though, nancy wheeler has been kind to you, hopefully she'd want to pair up with you. but probably not, since barb and jonathan is in this class too. you can still hope though. any of them!

"before you get excited, i'll be the one assigning groups. it'll be at random."

now, the class really does let out sounds of disappointment and dissatisfaction.

"i told you, you wouldn't like it!" he laughs and clears his throat and goes back to his desk, grabbing a piece of paper and going back to leaning on his podium.

"alright, let's see here." he goes on to list the pairings, you anxiously wait for your name to be called.

please. please, please, pair me with nancy. or barb. or jonathan.

"nancy wheeler and-" please! "barbara holland."

well, okay. that's fine, who else is left? you'd been so caught up in waiting for your name that you hadn't kept up with who was called and who hasn't. jonathan! he hasn’t been called yet. please, please, please-

"y/n l/n and-" oh shit, that's you. "eddie munson."

oh shit, he's behind you.

the girl in front of you turns around and whispers to you, "good luck."

should you turn around? if you don't what if he thinks you're upset about being paired with him? you should probably turn around, the teacher keeps listing names, and you look back briefly.

he's already looking at you and you awkwardly make eye contact; you give a small smile and turn back around. okay that wasn't so bad right? dang it. you've tried your hardest to not talk to him. but if you think someone's cute you should want to talk to them, right? wrong. you never know what to say when you like someone, how can you even like someone without talking to them? you don't know, but it happened anyway. and now you're basically being forced to talk to him.

robin's going to love this.

"okay, now that you know who your partners are, i'll talk about what this project will be about. you and your partners will come up with a topic, it'll have to be a significant part of history. you'll make a presentation where both will have to speak in front of the class. you can bring in photos, poster boards, anything to aid the presentations. it's not necessary, but it could earn you extra points!"

he looks over to the clock on the wall, "... i'll give you until the end of class, which is about," he looks down to his wristwatch to double check, "40 minutes from now, to come up with a topic, come to my desk to let me know you've come up with something before leaving class, please."

clapping his hands together, he sighs, "alright! pair up!"

everyone begins to move to be with their partners, darn it. all you have to do is turn around. it's not that big a deal. as nervous as you are to talk to eddie, your grade matters more than a silly crush.

you turn around in your seat, grabbing your notebook and putting it in your lap. finally looking up you see him tapping his pencil on his desk, also looking up. the awkward eye contact again, awkward to you at least.

okay. maybe you can fail one project.

who are you kidding, your parents would look at you crazy if you came home with a failing grade.

"hey." you finally say, giving him another shy smile. god damn it why are you so awkward.

he nods, "hey." he leans onto his elbows, looking away, "it's alright if you wanna switch partners y'know? or if you wanna work alone, or something."

you look at him in surprise, "no! it's fine. i don't mind working with you, sorry if i gave that impression." furrowing your eyebrows, dang it maybe your nervousness made him think that.

he looks back to you, "really? i wouldn't want to bring your grade down, straight A student." he smiles. okay, now he's just messing with you.

you can't help the heat that rushes to your cheeks, so he must know about you then? how does he know that?

"funny that you think i would let that happen." you laugh.

he leans back onto his chair, arms now crossed on the table. "alright then, are you sure you wanna be my partner, then?" he looks at you, eyebrows raised.

"yes, i'm sure." you now lean on his desk, arms also crossed.

"do you have any ideas for our topic?" you grab the notebook from your lap, grab a pencil, and put it in between you both on the desk.

he sits up now, leaning on the desk, mirroring your actions.

oh no, he's close now, breathe.

he scratches the back of his neck, "uh... not really."

"alright, that's fine. uhm," you look at the clock, "we have about 35? 30? minutes, so we have time. we should just pick a few things and then we can pick the one we like best, yeah?" you write in your notebook, ideas, and underline it. you look back up and find eddie looking down at your notebook before looking back up as well.

"yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

you tap your pencil and bite your lip, thinking.

"hmm... we could do like the great depression or something." you murmur and write it down.

as you have your head down to write it, you miss eddie's panicked gaze. he's never really had much care for these types of things since usually whoever he's partnered with doesn't even bother talking to him and do it all themselves, doesn't even give him the chance to contribute. he quickly tries to think so that he can add something too.

"uh, the- what about the american revolution? or something? i dunno."

you look back up, "yeah! you wanna write that?"

you offer the pencil to him, "sure." he takes it, turning the notebook towards him, feeling a bit insecure about his handwriting compared to yours that's above his own. it isn't the neatest, and he never really cared about it, but he can't help it when you look at him like that.

the rest of the time goes by like that, going back and forth with ideas, your notebook page filled with both your handwriting.

"okay, we have like 10 minutes left. do you have a favorite?"

you tilt your head as you wait for an answer.

"uh," he bites his lip as he looks down at the list, "the invention of the printing press?" to be honest he just picked a random one.

"cool! i'm alright with that." you smile as you put a small star beside the idea.

"hmm... would you want to do a poster board? or anything?"

no, honestly he would not. but he looks at you and can tell that you really would, anything that would earn extra points, right? he smiles.

"i wouldn't mind it. i could buy the stuff for it." he doesn't have the money for it, but he'll just have to sell more of his stuff for it.

"really? no that's okay, i'm the one that wanted to do it."

"nooo," he gives you a pointed look, playfully scolding you, "i'll buy it. what do we need for that?" he plays with the end of his hair twisting it in front of his face. a nervous habit of his, you make him nervous. not that you realize.

"well, the board, some markers, we could use mine since i already have some, and some glue. we could print out the stuff we need at the library, once we find out whatever we need to print."

"alrighty then. we made a lot of progress today then, huh? i'm the best partner you could have! we're really an unstoppable duo, right here." he puts his hand up for a high-five.

you give him the high-five, ignoring the tingly feeling on your hand, and it wasn't from the impact.

"oh yeah, totally." you laugh.

"i don't like that tone." he squints at you.

"what do you mean? i'm serious! we are the best duo." you smile.

"alright, i believe you." he smiles and stretches.

the bell rings, and it feels like suddenly the day went by too fast now.

you stand and grab your things, writing your names on an index card and the topic for the project.

eddie stands as well, about to say something but you beat him to it.

"let's go turn in our topic."

he usually is out the door when they do this, okay.

you both walk to the teachers desk, you smile and give him the index card.

he takes it and looks up with a smile, "great topic!" he looks over at eddie, "hopefully she rubs off on you!"

you frown and look over at eddie, who gives him a sarcastic smile and nod.

you both walk out the classroom, "do you have lunch after this?" he asks.

you stop in your tracks, about to walk to the cafeteria to meet robin.

"yeah i do, do you?"

"yup." he smiles and walks beside you, making your way to the cafeteria.

"y'know i was always scared to talk to you." he gives you a side eye, before looking straight again.

"what? of me?" you look over at him incredulously.

"oh, totally. thought you were scary, y'know being a smarty pants and all."

ah, so he's messing with you. again.

"ha ha," you roll your eyes, though you're smiling, "very funny."

"you know those candies? what're they called? smarties? yeah, that's you."

"what? it's a candy!" you laugh.

"so? that's still you."

"okay, okay. i'm not that smart alright?" you shake your head, still smiling. you can't stop smiling.

he looks at you like you're crazy. "you're kidding, right? don't you have like, the highest grade in the class?"

you shrug, feeling shy. "could be better, though."

the cafeteria is in view now, and you desperately need to change the subject. "well, guess this is where we go our separate ways." you sigh dramatically.

"i guess so." he breaks eye contact and looks around, "you could uh, sit at our table. if you want."

"oh! uh... i wouldn't want to bother-" "you wouldn't be."

you smile at him and he swears he can hear his heat beating out his chest right now.

"thank you. but i was gonna meet with my friend robin. i'll see you tomorrow in class, though."

"right, yeah, that's fine. see you tomorrow." he opens the door to the cafeteria and dramatically makes way for you to pass through.

you wave him goodbye as he makes way to his groups table, you see robin at your usual spot.

oh you aren't going to hear the end of this.

[v6quewrlds]

HOMIESEXUAL II, BURROW & IOSIVAS.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow/andrei iosivas x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀6.8k.

summary⠀⁎⠀just as you begin to settle into a slow ease with andrei, joe's late night texts sends you spiraling. paralyzed by the memories of what could have been, you find yourself back to square one.

author's note⠀⁎⠀read part i here. already planning a third part <3 first part focused mostly on andrei, this part focuses mostly on joe. don't ask me what the timeline is or how long anyone's been together, idk man. warnings⠀⁎⠀some usage of y/n, vicious cycles part ii, reader is going through it, literally just angst, sam lowkey meddling.

You leaned against your kitchen counter. Pale marble pressed a deep line into your skin as you took slow, shallow sips of your steaming cup of coffee. You drank it black with just a spoonful of sugar, a silent protest to the bitter taste of the morning after receiving Joe's text. The sun painted the room in a warm glow, but it did little to ease the chill that had settled in your chest.

The subtle creaking of your floor gave away heavy footsteps, interrupting your thoughts. You turned in the direction of the sound to find Andrei emerging from your bedroom, a hopeful smile on his face. "Good morning," he greeted you, stretching out his arms in a yawn.

"Hey," you managed to reply, your voice a bit hoarse from the previous night. He crossed the room and wrapped you in a gentle embrace. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for answers you weren't ready to give.

"Good," you lied, your mind racing with the weight of your decision. "Really good."

You could feel his heart beating in his chest as he processed your words, and you could hear the deep inhalation as he tried to modulate his reaction. Andrei pulled back, his hands lingering on your arms as he searched for the right response. "So, we're okay?" His voice was a soft whisper, hopeful.

You nodded. "We're okay," you assured him, your voice steady despite the tumult in your thoughts.

"That's all I needed to hear." Andrei's smile grew, crinkling the corner of his eyes. "I really like you. I know we're taking it slow, but I want you to know that." A large hand came down to cup the side of your face, thumb soothing circles into your brown skin before he leaned down to kiss you. It was gentle, slow, and filled with promise.

You returned the kiss, feeling a pang of guilt. You knew you had to tell him about Joe's message, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. Not yet. Instead, you chose to bask in the warmth of his affection, if only for a little longer. "I'm all yours, Andrei," you said, your voice earnest.

As you broke apart, Andrei's eyes searched yours for reassurance. "I'm gonna head out, hit my apartment before practice," he said, reluctance in his tone. "But, I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Soon."

He leaned in once more, softly whispering a question of, "Promise?", against your lips, all deep and soft and sweet. "Promise," you laughed against his lips, the sound light and airy, the promise feeling heavier than it should have.

Once Andrei left, the apartment felt too quiet. The echo of his footsteps down the hall seemed to amplify the silence that followed. You knew you had to get to work, but your legs felt like lead. With a deep sigh, you placed your half-empty coffee mug in the sink and headed to the shower. The hot water washed away the lingering scent of Andrei, but not the weight of Joe's words in your thoughts.

You could practically hear his voice saying those sweet words.

Are you free tomorrow?

You were, in fact, free.

We should do something.

God, you craved to be near him.

Miss seeing you.

You hated that you didn't hate him. Hated that you could feel his words' warmth through your phone's cold screen.

As you stepped into the shower, the hot spray did nothing to wash away the feeling of his embrace from your mind. You knew you had to tell Andrei, but you were scared of losing him and scared of losing your self respect in the process.

The office was bustling when you arrived. By the time Jess met your eye, you had already read and reread the text message fifty times over. The weight of Joe's words hung over you like a dark cloud as you attempted to read into every word choice. You made your way to Jess's desk, where your friend was buried in paperwork, and dropped your bag with a loud thud.

"Tell me everything," Jess demanded, her eyes immediately recognizing the distress in your posture. The two of you retreated to a more secluded area of the office, where the hum of the photocopier and the occasional ring of a phone couldn't penetrate your hushed conversation.

You recounted your tumultuous evening, the text from Joe, and the spiraling that followed. Jess listened intently, her eyes focused on your expression and intermittent sighs.

When you were done, Jess took a deep breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, babe. But, you don't talk about Andrei half as much as you talk about Joe."

The truth of Jess's words stung like a slap. You had been so focused on Joe that you had neglected the good thing you had with Andrei. "I know," you mumbled, dropping your eyes to the floor. "I'm just... every time I think I can move on, it's like he senses it and fucks with my head."

"Babe, you have to start taking some responsibility for your part in this too," Jess said firmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You can't blame Joe for everything, as fucked up as he is. You have to figure out what you truly want and stick to it. Joe can't get through to you if you just… shut the door."

You nodded, knowing your friend was right. You had been playing a dangerous game of push and pull with both men, not truly committing to either. "I know," you sighed. "But it's hard to ignore him when he's been part of my life for so long. It feels incomplete."

Jess anxiously bit her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of understanding and frustration. "I'm sorry, babe. I know it's complicated, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not healthy for you."

You sighed, biting your bottom lip. "I know," you echoed. "You're so lucky you locked down Sam."

Jess rolled her eyes playfully. "You know it wasn't always roses."

"Yeah, but you guys make it look easy now," you said, trying to lighten the mood. "All lovey-dovey and happy."

"It's not easy, but it's worth it," Jess said, her voice filled with conviction. "You just have to figure out what's worth fighting for and who you're willing to fight for it with."

You nodded, following Jess as the two of you headed back into the office to settle into a full day of meetings and paperwork. Despite your friend's advice, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were drowning in a sea of indecision. Every time you thought you had made up your mind, a new wave of doubt crashed over you.

Joe had a headache. It was the kind that lingered, the kind that felt like it was trying to tell him something. He'd had it for days, ever since he pressed send on that late-night text to you. Your read receipts were still on, so he knew you had seen it, but you hadn't responded - something he was aware was entirely intentional on your part. He knew he had crossed a line, knew that he had no right to expect anything from you after everything. Yet, he couldn't help but hope you might answer in whatever way you saw fit. He wanted you to tell him off, to block him, to do anything but ignore him.

The weight room was unusually quiet for a Thursday night. The echo of weights clanking against the floor was the only sound that pierced the thick air of competition and sweat. He was in his element, his muscles flexing with each rep, the grunts of effort escaping his lips as he pushed through an impromptu workout.

His mind was racing, replaying every interaction with you since he had stepped into the league. Flashes of moments and bites of sound played in his mind like a movie reel, the sweetness of your laughter, the magnetism of your figure, mixing with the harshness of your silence. He had to do something, had to find a way to explain why he had always been so afraid of what the two of you could have been.

He heard the clinking of Sam's workout bag before he saw the defensive end enter the gym. Sam's eyes met his, not a single hint of surprise in his expression. They had known each other for too long, had seen each other at their highest and lowest points. Sam knew he would be here. "Need a spot?" Sam offered, his voice carrying over the gym's ambient noise.

Joe removed his headphones, the music's thumping bass cutting off abruptly. He nodded, welcoming the distraction. "Yeah, thanks, man," he said, gesturing to the barbell on the rack.

As Sam helped him lift the weight, Joe couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that his friend knew something was up. Sam always had a knack for reading him, and Joe's restlessness was as clear as day. "So, how's it going with... you know?" Sam asked, his voice low enough not to carry.

Joe let out a heavy breath, setting the barbell back onto the rack and swapping places with Sam. "It's complicated," he said, not meeting Sam's eyes. "She's not answering my texts."

"Maybe she's just busy," Sam said, not bothering to hide his skepticism. He knew full well the kind of hold Joe had on you. "Or maybe she's finally putting her foot down. Gained a backbone or something?"

Joe chuckled, the sound hollow. "Maybe," he allowed, though he doubted it. "I don't know what I'm doing, dude. I just keep fucking things up with her."

Sam paused his reps, eyeing Joe with a mix of frustration and pity. "You know what you're doing, Joe. Always have."

Joe rolled his shoulders, ignoring the accusation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam set the barbell back, siting up with a groan. "It means," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "that you keep playing games with her because you think you don't deserve what you really want."

Joe's eyes narrowed, but Sam continued, unphased. "You're afraid of being with her, of committing to her. You think you're not good enough for her, so you keep her at arm's length so she doesn't find out. It's annoying, really. You both deserve better."

Joe felt the sting of truth in Sam's words. He rolled his neck, the tension building. "It's not like that," he protested, though even he could hear the doubt in his voice. "I'm just... I don't know what I want."

"Well, you're going to have to figure it out," Sam said, his voice firm. "Because if you keep playing this game, you're going to lose her for good. And I can't say I'd blame her if she chose Andrei. He's sweet to her, treats her right."

Joe's jaw tightened at the mention of Andrei's name. He knew he didn't have the right to feel possessive, but the thought of losing you to his teammate, someone who could be around you all the time, was like a knife in the gut. He had always thought of Andrei as a friend, but now, the line felt blurred. "I know," he said through gritted teeth. "But it's not that simple."

"I don't know, it might be, bro," Sam said, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "Sometimes, things are exactly as simple as they seem. You love her, she loves you, but you're too scared to tell her that because you're afraid of the expectations that come with it."

Joe couldn't argue with that. He had spent so long building a wall around himself that the thought of letting someone in, really in, was terrifying. But as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew that the wall had been built for one person, and one person only.

"Look, I know it's not my place," Sam started again, his voice softer. "But she's like a little sister to me. I hate seeing her agonize over you. If you're not capable of giving her what she deserves, then maybe you should step aside."

Joe's hands curled into fists at the thought. "Fuck," he muttered, the weight of Sam's words sinking in. He knew his friend was right. He had been selfish, playing with your emotions because he was too afraid to step up to your expectations. But could he really let you go? He didn't know if he had the strength to do that.

"Just think about it," Sam murmured, turning to leave the weight room. His words hung in the air, thick and heavy as the silence settled once again. Joe knew Sam was right, but thinking wasn't the problem. It was the doing that had always been his issue.

You hummed to yourself as you put away the last of your folded laundry, setting aside a few stray pieces of clothing you recognized as belonging to Andrei and a jacket you borrowed from Jess.

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand brought you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen, caught off-guard by a memory notification from your Photos app. It was a video of you and Joe, probably taken during one of your many easygoing nights before it all became so serious.

The two of you were laughing, the camera wobbling as Joe tried to get a good angle of your face while you attempted to explain some ridiculous late-night food combination. You watched it once, twice, the familiar warmth of nostalgia washing over you.

"What the hell is that?" He laughed, blue eyes twinkling as you continued to giggle hysterically. Your words kept getting caught in your throat as you tried to explain the combination of bacon and peanut butter on toast.

You closed the odd sandwich together, holding a corner out for him to try. "It's good, I promise," you said through your laughter. Joe eyed you skeptically before setting the camera down against the toaster, the video shifting to show the two of you standing in his kitchen.

An oversized sage green long-sleeve belonging to him hung off your smaller frame, the hem of the shirt brushing against your thighs as you stepped closer to him, trying to convince him to take a bite. He was dressed in sweats and a ridiculous tie-dye t-shirt, the colors of his outfit clashing horribly against each other.

He leaned in, the smell of mint on his breath as he took the bite. His eyebrows furrowed as he chewed, and you couldn't help but laugh harder, the sound echoing through the phone. The memory washed over you, a warm wave of nostalgia that you hadn't felt in a long time. But it was the way he looked at you after he swallowed, with a hint of wonder in his eyes, that made your heart clench as you watched.

"Good?" you asked, watching him expectantly.

Joe grumbled with a reluctant smile, wiping the crumbs from the bread on his lip. He leaned in for another bite, the two of you sharing a laugh as you held the sandwich away from him like a prize. His hands grabbed at your waist, playfully trying to take a bite without your permission before resorting to kissing you instead.

"Delicious," he murmured as he pulled away from your lips, his wandering hands making it clear he wasn't just talking about the sandwich. You only hummed in response, tearing the remainder of the sandwich in half as he reached to shut off the camera.

The video ended there, but the memory didn't. It played on in your mind, the way his hands felt, the way his mouth moved against yours, and you realized you had been holding your breath. You set the phone aside, your heart racing as you sat on the edge of your bed, the coolness of the comforter a stark contrast to the heat that seemed to envelop you.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel everything you had been pushing down for weeks. The longing, the regret, the anger. It all gripped at your heart, pulling you back to a time when you didn't have to think about the consequences of your actions. Back when you lived, breathed, and loved Joe without apprehension. But you knew you couldn't live in the past. With a deep breath, you stood up, tucking the stray strands of hair behind your ear and walking into the bathroom to splash your face with water.

The coolness helped to center you, but the reflection staring back was one of uncertainty. You had promised yourself you would take things slow with Andrei, that you would give him a chance. But as much as you tried to convince yourself that you had moved on, Joe remained a constant in your thoughts, a shadow haunting your happiness.

You beelined for your phone, your brain screaming at you to get up and delete the video, to erase every trace of Joe from your mind. But your thumb hovered over the screen, unable to follow through. Instead, you decided to just block his number, hoping - in vain - that would be the end of it. The video remained, but at least you wouldn't be so tempted to respond to any more of his messages.

Andrei loved the build-up to game days. The adrenaline was palpable, the tension in the air was electric, and the camaraderie among the team was something he cherished. Everyone was hyped up, settling into their seats on the team plane, ready to take on the Cowboys tomorrow. The conversation around him was a mix of trash talk and strategy, bonds being strengthened with every laugh and shared glance.

You had sent him off to Dallas with a good luck message, a photo of yourself in a #80 jersey attached to the sweet message.

The seatbelt sign flickered off, and the team started to move around the cabin, the noise level rising as the players talked and stretched their legs. Andrei felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Sam sitting in the empty aisle seat next to him. "Hey, Drei," Sam said, reaching a hand out to dap him up. "Seat taken?"

Andrei grasped his hand with a shake of his head. "Nah, man, have a seat."

Sam nodded and took the empty seat. "Look, I know I don't have the right to say anything, but I had to talk to you about something. Get it off my conscience." His expression grew serious as he leaned in closer to Andrei. "How are things with Y/N?"

Andrei's smile faltered a bit. "Good," he said, unsure of where this conversation was heading. "We're taking things slow, but it's all good."

Sam leaned in, his expression earnest. "Look, Joe's my boy, and I don't want to get in the middle of your business, but I care about her too. Just be careful, Drei. Let things happen naturally, you know?"

Andrei nodded, not quite sure what Sam was trying to tell him but appreciative of his concern. "Yeah, man, we are. Things are good. Why?"

Sam took a deep breath, his gaze darting around the cabin before settling back on Andrei. "It's just, Joe's been... I don't know. Different. He talked to me about her the other day, and it was like he realized for the first time that she's actually with someone else. And they're stubborn, you know?" He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I just don't want you to get hurt, man. He's got a history with her, and I know it's not fair, but sometimes, history has a way of repeating itself. I'm sure she's trying her best to let you in, but she could really break your heart, dude."

Andrei nodded, his thoughts racing. He had felt the same tension from Joe lately, the way he had been looking at him, the awkward pauses in conversation despite the front he was putting up of being a good sport. Andrei knew he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to lose you, but he also didn't want to be the rebound or the guy who messed around with his friend's girl.

Andrei sighed, eyes darting over to Joe who was playing a round of chess with BJ. "Be honest with me, dude. If she had to, ultimatum or whatever, who do you think she'd choose?"

Sam's gaze followed Andrei's. "If it's down to it, she'll always choose Joe," he admitted, his voice low. "It's just the way it is. I'm not saying it's right or fair to you, but that's the reality. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she's still holding on to what could have been with him. And Joe... he's realizing he might actually lose her for good and it's not sitting well with him."

Andrei nodded slowly, taking in Sam's words. He knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he appreciated the honesty. "I gotta ask you something, 'cause it's been bothering me," he began. "Why didn't anyone say anything when I first started seeing her? A bunch of guys on the team knew about Joe and her, but no one warned me. It's kinda fucked up, you know?"

Sam's expression tightened, and he leaned back in his seat. "It's... complicated, Drei," he said, his voice a mix of regret and loyalty. "We all thought it was a good idea at first, keep our mouths shut, let things play out. We didn't want to start any drama, especially with you finding your rhythm in the offensive. Maybe we should've said something, I guess. I just don't know if it would've made a difference."

Andrei nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew Sam was right; you and Joe had a history that ran deep. It wasn't fair to any of you, but here you were. "Thanks for being straight with me, Sam," he said, his voice tight. "I'll think about it."

The rest of the flight passed in a blur, the conversation with Sam playing on repeat in Andrei's mind. He knew he had to talk to you about it, but the right words escaped him. How could he express his fears without pushing you away or making you feel guilty?

The team arrived in Dallas, and the day of the game approached fast. The energy in the hotel was intense, players going through their pregame rituals, eyes glued to game tape, and coaches barking out last-minute instructions. Andrei found refuge in the routine of it all, pushing his conversation with Sam to the back of his mind as he focused on the task at hand.

The offensive played an explosive game, coming out with a win against the Cowboys. On the flight back to Cincinnati, Andrei found himself isolated from the rest of his exhausted, but jubilated teammates. By the time they touched down, Andrei was texting you with an excuse, telling you he'd see you tomorrow, that his mind was exhausted and he just needed to crash at his own place tonight.

On the other side of the phone, you were frowning as you read the text out loud to Jess. The two of you were in a familiar position on game nights when Sam was away, sauced wings forgotten on the coffee table as you dissected every text message and emoji. "What do you think that means?" you asked, biting your lip.

Jess took a swig of her beer, shaking her head. "Maybe he's finally realized you'll never get off Joe's dick." Her tone was blunt, unable to hide her laugh when you sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, I know it's harsh, but you've got to cut that shit out. You either go for Joe or you stick with Andrei. You can't keep playing this game, especially if Joe's gonna keep popping up like a fucking jack-in-the-box every time you get cozy with another guy." Jess was tipsy, clearly. Her words always held a little more bite when she had alcohol flowing through her system.

You sighed, setting your phone down. "The thing is, I finally brought myself to block Joe. But now Andrei's acting weird, and I don't know if it's because of Joe or because he's just tired from the trip."

Jess leaned in, her voice softer. "He said he was too tired to be present with you. Maybe just believe him?"

You nodded, feeling a little foolish. "Why can't my relationships ever be normal?" you said with a groan, flopping back on the couch, and taking a sip of your beer.

Jess reached over to grab your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "I love you, so much, babe. But you gotta start making your own decisions, stop letting these men dictate your happiness," she said, her gaze full of sisterly love. "You're a badass, and it's about time you start acting like it."

The front door rustled as Sam turned the key, letting himself in. Jess stood up to greet him, pressing a few sloppy kisses to his lips, congratulating him on the win as she began to babble in his arms.

"It was a beer kinda night, huh?" Sam asked, holding Jess' waist in one arm as they shuffled over to the couch where you sat nursing the rest of your lukewarm beer.

"Your beer kinda sucks, Hubbard," you muttered, scowling when he reached over to pluck the beer from your hand in response.

Sam chuckled, placing it aside. "You know I don't stock that shit," he said, pecking Jess' cheek as he sank into the couch next to Jess. "What's with the face?"

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "Boys," you muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he stood to head off to the kitchen. "I shouldn't have asked. Not surprised."

He returned with a protein bar in hand, taking his seat and shifting an affectionate Jess into his lap with a smile and a kiss to her forehead. "I spoke to Andrei yesterday. I don't know what kind of magic hold you have over these guys, but it has to be studied." Sam's words cut through the air, his gaze steady on you.

You paused, "You talked to Andrei?"

Sam nodded. "I had to. He had some questions and I felt kinda shitty that no one warned him about you and Joe." He took a bite of his protein bar, eyeing you as he chewed.

"Sam," Jess gasped, a hint of a scold in her tone. "Andrei just sent her a weird, cryptic text."

Sam's gaze softened, looking at you with concern. "What's up with that?"

"I don't know what's going on. Maybe it's just the stress of the season or the travel, but it feels like something's off." You picked at your fingernails, your gaze on the TV that was playing the game's highlights.

Sam looked at you with a furrowed brow. "That's weird. He seemed fine when we left Dallas."

Jess leaned forward, placing her hand on Sam's knee. "Well, maybe he's just tired. You all are."

Sam nodded, swiping a hand over his face. "Yeah, could be. But I'll keep an eye on him."

Whatever had come over Andrei that night didn't seem to stick around for long. By Monday night, he was asking you to come over after work. You agreed, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. When you arrived, Andrei greeted you with a warm smile, his arms open wide. You fell into your usual routine, ordering takeout before Andrei's hand slipped under your shirt, then shifted you into his lap, teasing you about your inability to pay attention to the movie you picked out.

"Just focus, baby," Andrei murmured in your ear, his voice filled with amusement as you squirmed against his lap.

You licked your lips, releasing a strangled moan as your hand moved down to cover Andrei's dipping into your leggings. You could feel the heat rising in your face, the tension in the room thickening with every touch. You bit back a surprised moan when he flipped you onto your back, the couch cushions molding to the curve of your spine as he hovered over you, a fiery determination in his eyes.

Andrei's kisses grew more urgent, his hands exploring your body with a gentle insistence that made your toes curl. You could feel yourself getting lost in him again, the warmth of his touch pushing your worries to the furthest corners of your mind.

His familiar heartbeat soothed your own as you pressed your cheek to his chest. "I missed you yesterday," you spoke up with bated breath.

"I missed you too," Andrei responded, stroking your cheek gently.

The two of you lay there, basking in the afterglow, your breaths gradually evening out. The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

You allowed yourself to be swept up in the final touches of wedding planning with Jess as the season came to a close. Each step was a welcome distraction from the question marks of your love life. The bachelorette party came and went, followed by the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.

The dinner was supposed to be a swirl of laughter and goodwill, but when you and Joe found yourselves staring at the only two empty seats, side by side, the air grew thick with uneasy hesitation. You felt the heat from his leg when he reluctantly sat to your right, his broad frame taking up more than his share of the formerly empty space.

His eyes would flicker over to yours as you spoke, a gentle smile tugging at his lips, but he remained mostly silent. It was strange, the way he could make you feel so at ease and so frazzled all at once. As the evening progressed, Joe remained polite and friendly, but there was a distance between you that was palpable.

And it killed you.

The wedding day was a blur of formalwear and champagne toasts. As maid of honor, you were busy ensuring everything went off without a hitch. The ceremony was beautiful, and as Jess and Sam shared their first dance, you couldn't help but shed a few tears.

By the time the groomsmen began to loosen their ties, the reception was in full swing. The open bar was doing its job, and the dance floor was crowded with swaying bodies, the air thick with the scent of cologne and alcohol. Sam was in the middle of a dance circle, Jess clinging to his arm as she threw her head back in an elated laugh.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to find Joe standing there, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey," he greeted. His cheeks were flushed, a hint of whiskey on his breath. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just taking a break. My feet are killing me."

Joe chuckled, his eyes sweeping over you. "You made a great speech by the way. I thought it was really sweet."

Your heart skipped a beat. You had tried to ignore the way Joe looked at you that night, the way his eyes held yours just a second longer than anyone else's, the way he made you feel like you were the only other person in the room.

You forced a smile. "Thanks, yours too."

"I know this is probably the worst time to do this, but can we talk?" Joe's voice was low, barely audible over the thumping music.

Your pulse quickened. You had hoped to avoid this conversation, at least until Jess and Sam were out of sight. But here he was, looking at you with those pretty blue eyes that seemed to see straight through you, and you folded. "Sure," you said, your voice a whisper.

You stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air a relieving departure from the stuffy reception hall. The music was a distant hum, muffled by the glass walls. You leaned against the railing, your heart racing as Joe stepped closer, mirroring your stance.

"Look, I know we've had our issues," he began, his voice earnest. "But I've never stopped caring about you. So, I figured I should actually apologize for being such a dick."

Your throat tightened. "You don't have to, Joe." Your eyes were downcast, hoping to avoid showing him just how uncertain you were.

Joe's expression grew serious. "No, I do. I messed up. And I know you're with Andrei now, and I respect that. I just needed to tell you I'm sorry for how I handled things." He paused, searching for the right words. "It's my fault we're not together. I was too scared to be the man you deserve."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "What are you saying, Joe?"

Joe took a deep breath, looking out at the twinkling city lights. "I'm saying that I love you. And I don't want to see you settle for less than what you deserve." He turned to face you, his gaze intense, hoping you'd met him just a quarter of the way. "I know Andrei's a good guy, and he makes you happy in ways that I never did. So, hold on to him. Give him a chance. You deserve it."

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of doubt or hidden intent. 

Then you scoffed, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Joe's brows shot up.

Your eyes searched his, the weight of his words heavy on your chest. "You're telling me you love me now? After all the shit you've put me through?"

Joe took a step closer, reaching out to touch your arm gently. "I know, and I'm not asking for anything in return. I just want you to be happy, even if that means it's with someone else."

"You're a fucking coward, Joe," you spat, pushing his hand away. "You can't just say 'I love you' now and expect me to be okay with that. I am trying to move on and you pull this shit with me? Fuck you."

Joe's eyes widened in surprise at your outburst. "Y/N, I'm just trying to be honest with you. I didn't mean to mess up your night."

"Well, you did!" you exclaimed, your voice echoing in the otherwise quiet balcony. "I can't believe you'd do this here, of all places."

Joe's face fell. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I didn't want to ruin Jess and Sam's day, but I had to tell you how I feel in person. I didn't know when I'd see you again."

Your hands flew to your head, fighting back tears of frustration. "This isn't fair," you murmured, your voice cracking. "You can't just do this to me, Joe. Not now."

Joe reached for you again, but you stepped back, holding up a hand to stop him. "No, don't. I can't trust myself around you."

"Y/N," he pleaded, but you were already turning away, facing the skyline again as you gathered your words without the threat of his baby blues breaching your thought process.

"I'm so angry with myself," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I thought I was getting over you, Joe. I really did. But here I am, still feeling like this."

Joe stepped closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder but not quite touching you. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I wish I could fix everything."

You ignored him, your mind racing as the emotions of the past few months crashed over you like an all-consuming wave. "I'm so in love with you, it makes me angry. Why can't you just be what I need?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Joe said softly, his own voice cracking. "I wish I could be that for you."

The music from inside the reception grew louder as someone opened the balcony door. The cold air doing little to settle the heat building between you two. You could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as you exhaled slowly.

"If you know, why couldn't you just do it? Why are you always out of reach?" you demanded, your eyes swimming with tears. "I fucking love you, Joe. And it's killing me that I can't have you."

Joe's gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw tightening. "I don't know," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "If I had a chance, I'd fix it. But, you deserve to be happy with Andrei. He's good for you."

"But what if I can't be happy with Andrei?" The question slipped from your lips before you could catch it. You saw the pain in Joe's eyes, and it mirrored your own. "What if all I want is you?"

Joe took a step back, his face a mask of torment. "Don't say that. Please don't say that."

"It's so fucked up," you laughed incredulously. "Andrei's right in front of me, begging to be loved and all I can think about is missing you, asshole."

Joe's gaze met yours, and you saw the true sadness in his eyes. "It's not your fault," he said. "We had our moments. We had a good thing going."

Your breath hitched. "Yeah, we did."

For a moment, the world outside of you stopped spinning. The laughter, the music, the distant chatter of your friends – it all faded away. You stared at each other, the truth of your feelings hanging in the air like mist.

"I miss you," Joe admitted, genuine pain reflecting in his eyes.

Your chest ached. "I miss you too. So much it hurts."

He stepped closer, his hand brushing your cheek. You felt his warmth seep into your skin in that familiar way that always managed to leave you defenseless. "Then why are we doing this to ourselves?"

Your eyes searched his, a mix of anger, love, and despair swirling in their depths. "Because you won't let me go, Joey," you murmured. "Because every time I start to move on, you pull me back in. You can't do that anymore, sweetheart. It's not fair."

Joe leaned in closer, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your bottom lashes. "I know," he whispered, his breath warm on your skin. "I'm sorry."

Your chest tightened as you leaned into his touch, craving the comfort he seemed to still bring you. "Why can't we just be together?" you asked, the desperation in your voice clear.

"I don't know, baby," Joe said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But we can't keep doing this to each other."

You felt the tears falling down your cheeks as you nodded. "But it's so hard."

Joe leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "I know it is, baby. I know. But it's Jess and Sam's night, we can't do this right now. Gotta get back inside, focus on them."

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. "I know," you whispered.

Joe's hand lingered on your cheek before he pulled away. You felt the chill of the breeze replace his warmth. He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours one last time before he turned and walked back towards the party. You watched him go, your heart feeling heavier than it had in a long time.

Hot tears clouded your vision as Joe disappeared back into the reception, leaving you alone on the balcony. The cold night air did little to cool the fire of emotions burning within you. You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to calm down. With a heavy heart, you turned and went back inside, finding a bathroom to collect yourself. You wiped your eyes, touched up your makeup, and took a deep breath before returning to the ballroom.

As you stepped back into the bustling room, the music and laughter hit you like a wall. You spotted Joe across the dance floor, stopped by some Ohio State teammates before he could make it to the bathroom, and felt a pang of guilt. His nose was noticeably red, eyes puffy from crying, even from your spot several feet away from him. You knew that look all too well. You had seen it before, reflected back at you in the mirror.

You found Jess and Sam, who were dancing together, their happiness so palpable it almost made your heart ache. You couldn't ruin this for them. You couldn't let Joe ruin this night for you. Not again. You approached them, a laugh erupting from your chest as Sam sloppily spun Jess around before dipping her for a kiss that received cheers from your friends.

"You two look amazing," you yelled over the music, your voice tight but contained.

"I'm so glad you're here, babe," Jess exclaimed, clearly more inebriated than you previously thought. Sam grinned at you, his eyes glinting with the same love and happiness that filled Jess's voice.

You forced a smile, your thoughts still swirling around Joe's confession. "Me too," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice from betraying your emotions.

When you finally stumbled into your hotel room a few hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, fully dressed, the weight of the evening's events pressing down on you. The room was spinning, not just from the alcohol but from the tumult of emotions you had kept bottled up all night. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the wedding reception that still rang in your ears.

Your phone remained still on the bedside table, taunting you with the silence from both Andrei and Joe. You contemplated for a moment, biting your lip nervously before exhaling a "Fuck it," and reaching out for it. Your thumbs worked quickly, swiping through your phone to find Joe's contact, unblocking him before you could change your mind. Then you dumped it back onto the table, exhaling softly as you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep.