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tinytownn · 17 days ago

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the weight on my shoulders –

pt. v - wife number five pt.2 series masterlist

[post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader]

word count: 8.5k

summary: joel gets caught in trouble, forcing him to flee the boston qz. a few days into his trip, he takes refuge in an abandoned shed where he finds you–scared, starving, and struggling to survive. despite his better judgement, he takes you with him on his journey.

content: violence and descriptions of death, pretty much no actual tlou lore (except the infected, joel's outbreak day events, and jackson), mentions of religion and cults??, i mention child death for like four sentences idk, tw youre from indiana sorryy, age gap (27 and 49), slow burn??, no use of y/n

a/n: this story keeps running away from me i swearrr like every chapter ends up differently than how i drafted it, but i hope you guys enjoyyyy (i think i like this version better :)) there was originally going to be a lot more cult involved stuff this chapter but i ditched it for cows lol, i feel like i've made u guys go thru enough trauma

September 18th 2025 -

“If you’re up for somethin’ a little risky.”

Joel’s words replayed in your mind as you sat on the bed, huddled in the darkness. The quilt beneath you stayed twisted beneath your fingers, the iron bedframe creaking as you nervously tapped your foot.

Something in the air was seeping into your skin, telling you that these two couldn’t be trusted. If you hadn’t been watching their every move, you wouldn’t have been so inclined to eat the dinner they prepared. Joel hadn’t been that convinced though, his stomach audibly growling now and his untouched dinner plate long discarded into the trash.

The subtle noises of discomfort were the only signal to each other that you were even there. You would gently rock the headboard, swaying to ease your anxiety until Joel would let out a soft grunt in annoyance. You could hear his stomach churning and the way he would shuffle or fake a cough in hopes you didn’t hear.

There was definitely a lantern somewhere in the room, but the light wouldn’t tell you anything you couldn’t already feel. The room had been tense since the moment you walked in. Hand splayed across your back, Joel ushered you in with some newfound urgency. You could feel his fingers tremble slightly through your dress and his anxiety began to seep into you.

“We wait here until they go to bed,” he had whispered.

Although you were in the room now, his head was still on a swivel and you could hear his clothes rustling as he looked around. You nodded along, unsure if he could even see you through the darkness. Either way, he continued.

“When I went downstairs with Samuel,” his voice was even lower now, like just saying their name would attract their attention. “There was a keypad that locked most of their supplies behind a gate. Pretty sure I can find the keys and some gas cans.”

Dipping to one side, you felt Joel push himself off the mattress. His footsteps echoed softly in the room, the soles of his boots heavy against the hardwood. Each step and each moment of silence filled you with even more anxiety. Was he still trying to figure out the plan?

“How do we get the code?”

Although your voice was barely above a whisper, Joel stopped dead in his tracks at the hint of your voice. You couldn’t see his face and even if you could, you were sure it wasn’t one you wanted to see.

Usually Joel oozed with a seamless confidence, one that was just effortless in nature. He was a strong man, gruff, the type of person people didn’t mess with. And if they did? He made sure they regretted it.

You didn’t know what he was like before the outbreak–probably never would–but whatever secrets Joel Miller buried so far down, turned him into a man ready for conflict, bloodshed, and violence. Whatever came his way.

Now, he stood in front of you, thankful to be shielded by the dark. He knew you could probably feel it in the way he moved, hear it in his tone, but he couldn’t stand the thought of looking this weak in front of you. He was always good at hiding how he truly felt, no matter how tense things got.

So what was so different now?

He had foolishly let his guard down. Like everything he had instilled within himself had gone out the door the second Samuel started his smooth talk. Something about the way the man spoke so casually, as if nothing had ever happened, Joel didn’t even notice that his gun had gone missing–at least not at first. One moment he was helping with the generator, begrudgingly following the stranger he couldn’t quite get a grasp on, and then he was happily chatting about his brother.

Reality had only struck him when his eyes met yours, that piercing and unforgiving stare. It was only then that he realized how swept away he had been, that he had forgotten everything he had told you and that silent promise as you two split up. It was only then, when he shoved his hands into his pockets that he realized how light they suddenly were. It was only then that he patted down his empty pockets, his earlier suspicions coming to life, and a wave of nausea and defenselessness swallowing him whole.

It had been so long since Joel had a proper conversation with another man. One with meaning and no underlying favors. So when the whole facade of that friendly conversation came to light, Joel had felt like a fool for even believing him for a second.

He didn’t realize it then, but over the course of dinner while Joel did nothing but berate himself for his mistakes, he had realized the effect you had on him. That hope you carried that he had endlessly scolded you for, whether he knew it or not, began to slowly seep into his way of life–an unfamiliar optimism clouding his view. He saw that you were more than just dead weight slowing him down–a poor decision made in a lapse of clarity–but rather a glimmer of hope he hadn’t seen for decades.

That toothy grin you’d give him even after hours of arguing, the way you told him to keep the bag of candy as if that was the most obvious thing in the world, and how every time you would pull something from the backpack that same bag was balanced on your legs so it didn’t get scuffed. He had never told you the full meaning behind the candy, that it was actually Sarah’s favorite, but you still kept the bag as clean as when he found it–not even a tear in the plastic.

Despite all that, he had done nothing but push you away, but something in his gut kept him tethered to you. An invisible string ravelling around the coils of time until it ran out of thread, tying you two at the hip. Months of being so close had definitely taken its toll, arguments and petty bickering almost a daily occurrence, but none of that would stop how you looked out for each other.

Underneath that string, tied so tight around your wrists the flesh tore wide open for each other to see, there lay a promise–a type of promise only created in the bonds formed within this wasteland of a world. It wasn’t something spoken about or written down in some sort of contract, but rather something hidden in small glances and sighs. The way that even now, within the darkness you could both read each other's motions, each slight sound a signal to an entire language only you two could understand.

That’s why, when those words left your lips, as simple as they may have been, something in Joel’s heart crushed a little bit.

For the first time since you had met, you were lacking confidence in him.

He could hear it in the way your voice shook, that slight tremble in your words and the discomfort that hung in the air. How normally you’d be anxious, fiddling with the hem of your clothes, desperately trying to cling to his words. Now, you sat rigid, almost as if his lack of words took over your entire brain, ceasing any motor output.

Feet planted in place, almost as if quicksand was pulling him under, Joel stood frozen–contemplative. “The code is the easy part,” he huffed out a sigh, jamming his hands into his jean pockets. “I saw it over his shoulder when we went to the basement. What’s gonna be a problem is flippin’ the right switch to power the damn thing.”

Uncertain, you leaned forward on your palms, the bed creaking beneath your weight.

“That breaker box ain’t got any of the switches labeled so it’s just goin’ to be a guessin’ game. I’ve worked around plenty of these to know there’s some sort of order to ‘em. He flipped the switch for the kitchen on the top right, so I can work from there…” He paused for a moment, like once he said these last words things would be set in stone. “If…if I flip the wrong switch, I need you to keep them distracted.”

With the risky part of Joel’s plan now splayed out in front of you, you couldn’t help the way you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat. It’s not like you had ever needed to use a breaker box before, but it wasn’t like you had never seen one. You knew the mass amount of switches on one of those things, let alone a building this big.

Although you knew it was useless, you looked towards where you could sense Joel was standing, hoping for some sort of comfort–grounding–within his presence. But as usual, he was a wall. An impenetrable force, especially when it came to you, void of anything other and a carnal need to hunt and protect. Sure, he gave you those glimpses of nostalgic wonder, something softer deep within that icy gaze.

But none of that was there now.

He stood there just as still as you. You could hear it from the silence in the room. No nervous shuffling of fabric, no creaky floors under pacing feet, and no scratching of hair through anxious fingers. Just the absence of noise simmering deep into every corner of the room, itching at your skin, deep within, tugging at your vocal chords.

“Distracted?” you squeaked.

“If they stay in their room, it should be fine.” You could hear him shift his weight, the floor boards creaking beneath him. For a split second, you were unsure if he was breaking or widening the distance, and you think he was unsure himself. “If I flip the wrong switch, or they hear me downstairs, you get their attention any way you can…Do whatever you have to. You understand?”

His words were stern again, an ounce of that confidence regained in his tone. Then, a sliver of the moonlight cast on his face through the window, and your perception of him in that moment shattered.

His lips, cracked and dry, were drawn into a sullen pout and trembling ever so slightly. Head dipped low, his shoulders were hunched over in a reclusive, almost regretful stance. You hadn’t seen this look on him since that day in the bodega, that prized bag of Swedish Fish clutched in his hands. His eyes reflected this distant longing, dull and bleak, like he was impending a fate he was dreadfully succumbing to.

The look took you aback–confused you. Since the moment you stepped into this town, that bubbling anxiety had only grown and grown into a full blown panic that you had to hide beneath the layers of this dress–its pristine fabric and untattered edges a mocking reminder of your situation. Still, while the plan had its risks, you had the upper hand of strength and strategy. Confusion racked your brain, that solemn, lost of hope look on Joel’s face not adding up, until…

“Do you have the knife?”

You quickly got on your feet, nodding your head instinctively although he couldn’t see.

“Yeah it’s right…” Your heart dropped. Slithering your hand into your boot, sinking your fingers into your sock, you were only met with a damp washcloth–the sliver of soap you had saved for Joel still safely packed away.

Replaying your memories, you tried to retrace your steps, figure out where you could have possibly left your only weapon. Joel had pressed it into your palm while bandaging you earlier between hushed warnings and stern whispers. You had clipped it to your waistband, still attached and folded on the bathroom counter.

So focused on wrapping up the remainder of your soap, you had forgotten to take it with you.

“Fuck, it’s in the bathroom. I’ll go get it-”

“Don’t bother,” he interrupted. “It’s already gone. Looks like they did some plannin’ before we even thought about it.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to Joel, almost face to face. “ What do you mean? Don’t you have your gun? My bow?”

Standing so close, you felt his arm brush yours as he shuffled uneasily. “Don’t have it.”

You opened your mouth to question him, ask how he could have lost track of them, but the sounds of distant chatter and creaking floorboards echoed down the hallway. Joel reached out, grabbing your wrist painfully tight, sucking in a quick breath. He could probably feel your heartbeat thrumming, both of you held painfully still, not even moving to breathe.

Then, the soft click of a door, its heavy groan humming through the walls.

Step one of the plan had begun and there was no time for questions–only action.

“Are we doing this?” you finally asked when Joel’s fingers eased up, your skin pulsing where he was once holding.

He was already walking towards the door, taking slow and deliberate steps so as to not make any noise. “Do we have any choice?”

You didn’t answer–not like he gave you any time to–and he slipped through the doorway. Shutting your eyes, you held your breath once again, trying to listen for Joel’s footsteps. It was subtle, but you could hear the creak of that grand, white door and the way it hinges squeaked open.

Not having seen the basement, you didn’t know how long all of this would take, but you knew sitting in this room waiting for something to happen would only make you restless. Slow, careful steps carried you to the door, slipping through the crack and into the moonlit hallway.

The small window at the end gave way to some light making the room not as intimidating as before. You could see a couple doors down another cracked door, the warm glow of a lantern spilling across the floorboards and painting the walls.

Assuming they were still awake, you decided to make your way to the bathroom, hoping Joel's suspicions were wrong. Tiptoeing onto the tile, the bucket you had used lay untouched in the corner, the water foggy and soapy. The pile of things you had left neatly folded on the counter though, were nowhere to be seen, only a stray sock misplaced on the ground.

“Fuck…” you whispered, a shot of anxiety like a bullet to the chest.

Still cautious, you peered down the hallways, the door still cracked, pouring light along the baseboards. Breath held, like the air had a tightening grip on your throat, kept the room silent and only when you slipped through the doorway, that cool checkered tile underneath your feet, did you exhale.

There was a window above the sink and two on the opposite wall, the room not as dark as the bathroom–moonlight spilled in from the two windows, the light bleeding onto your skin, exposing you to anyone who entered the room, but you didn’t care–there was a small ounce of comfort in that moonlight. A wave of detachment washed over you, ridding you of your senses, anxieties, fears–the reason you were even standing in this room completely beyond you–oblivious to your own intentions.

Then, a soft humming resonated through the floorboards, something so soft, so quiet that typically you wouldn’t have heard it. That rhythmic vibration sparked some sort of signal back to your brain, a chill running up your spine, and fear took its grip again.

Rushing to the counter where you had helped cook just hours before, you could have sworn the knife block was next to the stove–Liz had handed you one to help cut vegetables from that very spot. You squeezed your eyes shut, as if this was some sort of a lapse in your vision, that if you opened your eyes it would reappear, but it never did. No matter how many times you reached to pinch your arm, you were still standing in that kitchen, still in that stupid dress, and still defenseless.

If they had predicted your moves this far, how long would it take before they caught onto Joel?

What if they already knew?

Fear churned waves through your stomach, a fiery heat creeping up your neck, and your hands clammy–you felt entirely nauseous. Without your bow or even a hunting knife, what were you supposed to do if you had to distract Samuel and Liz?

With shaking hands, you rummaged through the drawers–some wooden ladles and spoons, an entire drawer dedicated to junk and old tea packets, and mostly just empty moldy drawers–not even bothering to close them, the handles one good tug away from falling off. The cutlery was limited, but taken care of, all polished silver delicately placed and organized in their trays–you grabbed the only butter knife.

Time couldn’t be wasted. Rushing back into the hallway, the first floorboard let out a groaning creak–a subtle reminder that things were still real and you weren’t just floating in some sort of dreamlike state. Carefully creeping down, just as you had before, you could see the bedroom door with that light still warmly glowing.

You cursed every part of your body for being so loud–your heartbeat thrumming, breaths coming out in deep huffs, and those echoing footsteps the adrenaline couldn’t help but slam to the ground with each step. You were stupid for even getting this close so unprotected and you felt stupid for even letting yourself get this unprotected–only a butter knife clutched tightly in your fist to save you.

“Everythin’ will be fine.” That familiar voice rang through the doorway, smoothed over like honey–something sinister catching in a crack in his voice at the end. “You just make sure that man eats breakfast. Even without his gun I’d like him knocked out ‘fore I kill ‘im–he ain’t goin’ down without a fight.”

“I don't think she’s goin’ to want to come back to Utah…not after somethin’ like that.” Liz’s voice was more firm now, less submissive than before. “You really think she won’t suspect anythin’?”

“Well, it’s too late to turn back now. We’ve been here for three months, Liz. If we don’t come back with another wife soon, Graves ain’t gonna be happy with me.”

“Who cares about Graves? Ever since his father died he hasn’t been actin’ right…and you know it. He’s sendin’ us out here to kill people–and what he’s doing with these ‘wives’? This is the fifth one, Samuel. This isn’t what they started the community for, he’s taken it all too far. We can just take the truck and ru-”

“That’s enough, Elizabeth.” If you couldn’t hear every breath, every slight movement and footstep, you would have thought Samuel was right next to you with how loud he spoke–cold and icy, freezing the blood in your veins. “We can’t just leave the community–our family–after everything they’ve done for us. Do you remember how they found us? Do you need me to remind you?”

You could hear quick, heavy footsteps and Liz suddenly gasped. “I can throw you outside with those things if you think you can make it out there by yourself. Is that what you want?”

Before you could even think or back away, the door was being pried open, the warm light turning into a blinding spotlight, and you stood there awaiting your fate like a deer in headlights.

“Samuel, please! No, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean–”

Tears were streaming down her face, pleads choked out between her sobs. Samuel had her arm in a tight grip, a bruise probably forming under his hold. This lovers quarrel, domestic dispute, or whatever the hell you had walked in on suddenly froze in time.

Like a switch flipped, Samuel’s eyes turned dark, his shoulders slumping down, like he no longer had the weight of the facade on his shoulders. He let go of his wife and she stumbled back into the doorframe, a sob escaping her lips as she lunged back towards her husband.

Fear held you in its deadly grip, fingernails slashing at your skin, digging deep and pinning your feet to where you stood. Thoughts raced through your mind, millions a second, screaming a cacophony of noise so loud that you couldn’t even think.

Then, almost as if time had skipped, jumping forward before you could fully process your next actions, you were on the ground, knees on either side of Samuel’s waist, covered in a pool of blood. You sat frozen, hands shakily gripped to the butter knife that sat plunged into the center of his neck, blood spurting all over your face and dress.

His hands desperately tore at your skin, clawing beneath the surface, breaking the skin at your wrists. He tried to reach your neck, wriggle around and push you off of him, but he was too weak. You could see Liz in your peripheral, she was on the ground, her mouth opened like she was screaming, but all you could hear was a deafening ringing as time replayed excruciatingly slow: Samuel charging at you, his heavy hands on your shoulders as he pushed you to the ground, the body numbing pain that seared through you as your body hit the floor, and how, almost like it had a mind of its own, your hand plunged the knife anywhere you could hit.

It was only now, that your vision cleared and that weightless feeling of flowing adrenaline had fled–gravity taking its hold on you and the knife sinking so deep your knuckles met skin–you could see the sporadic slashes all throughout his body.

Samuel had made the mistake of rendering you completely defenseless, with only your hands to protect you. His rage left him blind and careless–what would soon be a fatal mistake.

Though your mind felt blank, numb, you could still hear the familiar voice that guided you through the noise:

“Swing fast and don’t stop.”

Joel had muttered those words to you one night while going through what was supposed to be a ‘shortcut’ through a thick and dense forest. The night had crept faster than expected and as the groaning of infected grew near, he handed you his knife, gun clasped tightly in his hand with a wavering brow.

You were terrified that night, you were still injured, the bandaging on your leg soaked with puss and sweat. As uncomfortable and in pain as you were, all you wanted to do was sleep, not thinking you had the strength to run even if your life depended on it, but Joel looked right through you and said those words so confidently as if he knew that even in the tensest of moments you would be able to do exactly as he asked.

You never did end up using the knife that night–or at all. Joel whispered for you to stay back while he surveyed the scene and you anxiously picked at your fingers behind a tree until he came back, fresh blood staining his shirt and a careless nod.

“Let’s go. It’s all clear.”

And it was always like that.

Despite never needing to use your weapon or get into any real conflict, Joel was always hinting and preparing you for it. Each target practice, every hushed warning, and all those ‘what if’ plans were getting you ready for this very moment.

He saw that innocence the very first moment he saw you, that determination to live despite the terrified look in your eyes. He knew–he hoped that if he repeated himself enough, despite how tough or unpleasant he had to be, that his voice would carry your body to fight even when your mind resisted.

And your mind was resisting.

That fateful moment, that fatal swing, the way Liz cried and screamed for her husband, reaching in the air towards him, but cowered in fear in the doorway as something outside of you, outside of your control, slashed her husband in the very room they slept.

Your eyes were glued shut, unable to open if you even tried, like your mind was censoring a sight it knew you didn’t want to see. Maybe it was the promise you made to Joel, a completion of the plan that had driven you to strike, maybe it was his words that subconsciously trained you to be a merciless killer just like him–a skill you had seen him effortlessly perfect and shamelessly rely on–or maybe it was all you in blind anger and fear that acted in taking this man's life.

Even though this was the world you lived in now–one where killing was frequent and necessary, death always looming around each corner–it wasn’t the one you grew up in.

It was a world that went still when your classmate in the first grade, Daniel Rodruiguez, went missing and was found dead the next morning. A world that honored Daniel each year over the school’s loudspeakers and with a memorial in town that was always covered with photos, toys, and flowers. You had seen glimpses of that world sometimes–graves with the remnants of flowers and some sort of makeshift headstone or cross–it always made you think of Daniel and sometimes the twisted thought that you were glad he was dead and didn’t have to be here in this awful new world, body covered in blood like a scene from Carrie. Sometimes you were even a little envious of Daniel.

Especially in times like this.

Because Daniel didn’t have to make choices like the one coming at you, full speed like you were standing on railroad tracks and the train was inches away from your face. In your shock, the faded memory of Daniel and of that night in the woods played like one of those movies of your life that people say they see before they die–and honestly, it felt like you were the one dying.

Liz had collected herself–or completely shattered in front of you–and grabbed Joel’s gun that was hidden in the nightstand. Her eyes were wide, puffy, and red, her hands shaking around the handle, weighed down uncomfortably as if she had never held a gun before–she probably never had–your actions being the fuse to her lapse in character.

“What have you done?” she shrieked, gun aimed directly at you.

You looked up at her, mind blank. Because what had you done? Sure, it was self defense and that conversation you overheard couldn’t have been any clearer on their intentions, but the guilt that hung heavy in your chest told you otherwise. It told you that you were a killer, a ruthless being that murdered a husband in front of his wife without a second's thought.

There was a clomping sound down the hallway, that grand door making its familiar echoing creak, and for a second you forgot Joel was actually here and not just a voice guiding you in your mind. His footsteps were unusually rushed as he made his way down the hall, abandoning his usual stealthy technique in a frenzy.

He was downstairs, successfully through the gate and rummaging around for keys, picking any lock he could find when he heard a thumping. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t stop his search–with two gas cans and a duffle bag of emergency supplies, he was so close to being out of here. You would be able to handle it.

It was uncomfortably quiet for a moment and he almost decided once again to abandon ship and rush upstairs, but the thudding continued again and for some reason that comforted him–to know that there was some sort of fight happening, one that he was confident you could win or at least scuffle through for the time being.

Then there was a scream.

A scream so loud that every instinct in Joel’s body was telling him to turn and run, that nothing but trouble could be around that noise and attracted to that noise. But he knew that you were also up there and possibly the one screaming.

Joel had automatically assumed that it was Liz screaming, but as he rushed up the stairs, he realized he had never heard a true, body chilling scream from you. He had vowed to keep you safe and that he did. So could have things gone so wrong the one time he left you?

His feet weren’t taking him upstairs fast enough and his mind raced with guilt as he thought through the night. He had never found his gun downstairs where he expected it to be and your weapon being gone as well showed that these two were more prepared than he had expected. He felt sick, rage bubbling in his stomach for even thinking this plan was a good idea, for even putting you at risk like this.

A blinding light illuminated his destination at the end of the hallway, a looming lump of something hidden in the blurs of his vision laying out into the hall. Using the wall to guide him, his calloused fingers gripped the doorframe, knuckles turning white as he gasped at the scene.

That lump of something was Samuel’s legs and the blood that pooled around it and the rest of his limp body. On top of him, legs straddled around his waist, was you, hair soaked and matted, shielding his view of your face. He could see you were shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind, hunched over his body with your arms outstretched over his face. He fought to keep himself grounded, using everything within him not to pull you from the scene, drive off in the truck, and forget about the whole thing, but the barrel of a gun–his gun–was staring him dead in the eyes.

Liz stood only a few feet away, hands not even on the trigger, the lack of confidence in her stance giving way to her distress.

Joel warily lifted his hands to his head, palms splayed wide for her to see. “Woah there, I ain’t got a weapon, okay? But I’m sure you already know that.”

She didn’t waver, whether it was from some sort of confidence, anger, or pure shock, she stood her ground, gun still pointed right between his eyes.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen!” She screamed to no one in particular, her words crying loud enough to maybe reach the God she muttered to under her breath while clutching that cross necklace–the same one tangled around your fingers, coated with blood on Samuel’s neck. “Samuel was supposed to leave with me and none of this would have happened! I never wanted to leave Utah, I knew nothing good would come out of this! What have you done, what have you done, whathaveyoudone?”

Her whole body was trembling, the sounds of her shifting her weight audible against the floorboards, and the gun unsteadily swayed in front of Joel’s face. She kept blabbering on, her screams growing incoherent, her eyes glazing over with an unbridled fury. You had watched the scene unfold from the very moment Joel walked in, but something–maybe that subconscious Joel you always seemed to have crawling in the back of your mind–told you to keep still and wait. You weren’t quite sure what you were waiting for, your mind was still mostly blank while simultaneously being busier than a highway at rush hour, but for a split second, something flicked in Liz’s mind, like a moment of realization shared between the both of you, and you found what you were waiting for.

You hopped to your feet, the body that had just felt so heavy you couldn’t even lift your head, now weightless as you sprung towards her. Bloodied butter knife still clutched in your hands, you charged towards her, rushing to beat the clock, as her fingers scrambled for the trigger. Joel, almost as if he could read your every thought, ducked down the second you moved, and a bullet went flying through the wall behind him.

Before she could fire off another shot, you had her tackled to the ground, more clear minded than the last time. At first, you took this levelheadedness as an advantage, but as soon as that gun slipped from her hands, clacking against the hardwood as you pushed it away, her face turned back to that helpless, distress gaze.

The knife you once held so confidently felt slightly slack between your fingers, and for just a moment you both looked at each other human-to-human in a moment of pure survival. Stripped down to nothing but the situation in front of you–the story of how you got here, who this woman was, who you even were all void and irrelevant in your mind in this moment–only pure guilt and fear hung in the air between you two now, sloshing together in one big jumble of mixed emotions and decisions.

Knife shakily held to her throat, just where it met her husband’s moments ago, blood dripped down to meet her necklace, pooling in the hollow of her neck. The movement didn’t come as swiftly to you as they did earlier, the jarring dullness of the knife making you sick as you barely applied pressure.

Before you could even continue, there was a thick hand on the back of your neck, pulling you backwards and off of Liz. In the scurry, Joel had grabbed his gun that you had slid out into the hall, now back in its rightful place–confidently gripped between Joel’s fingers, steadily aimed with precision.

His eyes–and gun–were focused on the woman on the floor, for a second you thought he was going to shoot her, and for a moment, he thought the same. You couldn’t decide if you wanted him to or not, but eventually after a long moment of collectively held breaths, he sighed and lowered his gun without a word. His eyes glazed over for a second, like his mind was replaying some distant memory, all three of you somewhere far off in your minds.

Then, he draped an arm over your shoulders, heavy with the weight of the room. He ushered you out into the hallway, stepping over Liz and shielding you from peering back at the sight. You leaned into his chest and were internally amused when he shifted his shoulders, blocking your view of the doorway like you would want to see that again, like it wasn’t already burned into your memory and playing on loop.

The descent downstairs was silent, not even the house daring to creak as you two walked into the basement. Joel kept his gun in the hand that was draped over your shoulder, the other grabbing a duffel bag and slinging it over his arm so he could carry the two gas canisters. Everything was set up on a table, so he could grab it without letting go of you–his silent way of reassuring you.

A light buzzed above, flickering from time to time, filling the silence that hung between you two. It wasn’t necessarily an uncomfortable or awkward silence, no lingering tension needing to be filled, but rather a mutual understanding that the events of today were ones to be unspoken.

Eventually, Joel found the keys to the truck hanging on a small hook in the garage, the light even dimmer than in the basement. The truck was old and dusty, once a bright shade of red that caved to time and was now a sun faded orange tinted with rust. The silver handles were chipped and cracked, barely hanging on as Joel hauled the door open and lifted you inside, it wasn’t a necessarily tall truck, but with the way you leaned against him–the weight of your thoughts and body too much to bear–he figured you could use the support.

When he slid into the driver’s seat after piling items into the back, he clicked the keys into the ignition, the engine roaring to life. It had been years since you had heard or seen a functioning vehicle that wasn’t chasing after to kill you and you had forgotten how comforting the low hum of the engine was, the gravel crackling beneath the tires.

It took some effort, but the garage door creaked and hauled itself into a partially open position, the sound attracting loads of infected to the area. Typically you would have been terrified at the sight of that many infected, but it was all soon behind you as Joel pressed the gas, leaving the town in a cloud of dust.

Tilting your head to the side mirror, there was still a small view of the old building–those pillars standing proud and unassuming of the horrors inside. The thin road ahead of you merged off onto a bumpy exit, one lined by trees and unattended signs that had vines creeping along the posts and grime coating the edges, leading to a more open highway that Joel had to weave through abandoned cars and random debris along the four lanes that led to the city.

The truck ran smoothly, the excessively rumbly engine to be expected with a car this old and it was good noise to accompany the silence of the out of commission radio. The both of you drove for a while, mostly in silence other than basic comments about your surroundings.

“Look, there’s some horses.” The comment had surprised you at first, but as Joel slowed down the truck, there were a group of horses running around, playing amongst each other in the overgrown roads beneath the bridge you drove on.

There was one horse, more distant than the rest, that sat beneath one of the trees that lined the road–a large oak tree whose branches hung over the powerlines and tangled between them–finding comfort in the shade it was resting, watching the rest of its group frolic about, not worrying about joining–knowing this wouldn’t be the last time they would all get to do this.

You envied that horse.

Shaking that feeling from deep within your bones–that feeling of existential dread–you turned to Joel, his eyes waiting on yours while the truck stilled on the road. He let the moment linger, your eyes on his, his eyes on yours, while the clomping of hooves and whinnying and neighing of horses in delight rang through the windows you had just now realized were open.

Your breath stilled, for in that moment–for the first time since you stepped in that alleyway in that godforsaken town–you felt some sort of comfort, a feeling that everything was going to be okay.

When your eyes finally flickered away, his unyielding gaze too much to bear, he shifted back into drive and slowly took off again. He didn’t want to break whatever serenity that moment had caused, so he kept silent, not wanting to ruin the moment with his lack of way with words.

“Cows,” you had mumbled out next under your breath when you had caught a glimpse of a group of cows grazing in a field a little while later, the words had just slipped out, the only thing that made its way into your mind besides the couple, and that light down the hallway, and that stupid dress, and that godawful look on Liz’s face that just wouldn’t leave your mind.

Once again, the truck slowed to a halt, shifting into park as you admired the view. This time, you were merging onto an exit, some town you didn’t know the name of, but didn’t question how Joel knew just where to go, the means of your destination still uncomfortably vague. The roads were surrounded by a grass patch and some foliage, a group of spotted cows stood and lay alongside–one just a few feet from the truck.

There was some rummaging on Joel’s side of the car, but you didn’t care to look over your shoulder, the weight of the night unbearably heavy. The sunrise was rolling in, the peak of the morning coming to a start, and the early morning birds began to chirp their peaceful melody.

Given the view, you should have felt at ease, some sort of peace, but the blood dried to every inch of your skin, itching, peeling, flaking, was not only uncomfortable, but a constant reminder of what you were running from in this truck. You felt like you hadn’t moved in ages, like the very thought of how to move was even too much for your body and so it had been permanently cemented to this seat, like you had been there forever and knew nothing but.

Noises of opening doors and rummaging through boxes blurred in the background, not even knowing if Joel was trying to talk to you, get you go somewhere–like you’d be much help anyway–you just focused on the cows and the yellows and blues and oranges that all melded together to create the sunrise.

“C’mon, turn over here.”

His voice shocked you, but your body sat rigid, like it was aware of his presence before your mind. You weren’t sure when he had opened the door, or if he really did–maybe this was all some sort of daydream and he was still in the driver’s seat chugging along. You felt numb, nothing felt real, and that figure that might be Real Joel kept talking to you, but you couldn’t hear him anymore–his voice a distant echo.

He must have noticed that absent look on your face, the glaze over your eyes, because he gave up any attempt at words, knowing he wasn't getting through to you. Instead, he placed a warm hand on your thigh, centering you, grounding you, and bringing you back to reality from whatever far off place you had been in.

The guilt and horror was eating you alive from the inside out, nipping away at each nerve, each fiber of your being until you sat there, a lifeless shell. It was brief, that quick electric shock that shot through your body and tingled in his absence, a feeling you hadn’t felt for a long time, one that brought you back to a time before all of this. He didn’t give you much time to think though, with a damp cloth in hand, he began (not so gently) scrubbing at your face.

One hand was placed firmly on the back of your head, his finger entangled with your hair as he supported your head. You leaned into his palm, putting most of the work on him, but he didn’t seem to mind, just kept that same rhythmic pace as he washed the blood from your skin. He worked quickly, not aiming for perfection, but his eyes diligently scanned your face, ears, neck, trying to get as much off as possible.

The warmth from his hand radiated through your body, that tingling sensation coming back each time he adjusted his grip. When he got to your ears, he clamped his fingers down harder, applying some more pressure as he grabbed you to tilt your head. His fingers, brushing the underside of your jaw surprised you and with a small huff of air you slightly jumped back.

He didn’t stop scrubbing, his eyes still focused on the side of your head. “You tell me if I’m hurtin’ you, okay?"

You hummed in response and kept your gaze low, more towards Joel’s shoes, so he couldn’t see the light tinge of pink on your cheeks. You didn’t like how you felt under his touch, the comfort it brought you before turning uncomfortable, making you squirm in your seat. It was like he was staring right through you without having to even look in your eyes and with each scrub of the cloth he was peeling back the layers of your skin until you sat beneath him, raw and real.

He had seen you at your lowest, hunched over a man, blood pooled along your skin and matting your hair, the breath taken from your lungs with deep heaving breaths, and not even the slightest look of remorse in your eyes. Sure, the guilt was eating you alive now, but in that moment you jumped without thinking, only to try and do it again–the conflict of your morals and survival instincts waging war in your mind.

When the blood was mostly gone from your skin, only a reddish hue staining some crevices, the dried flakes still under your nails and clinging to your hair, you finally felt clean again. The dress you were wearing was completely dried now and there was so much blood on it that it seemed as if the dress was always that color, always that deepened brown, until you looked at the back and saw remnants of that emerald green peeking through.

Joel must have noticed you looking down at it because without skipping a beat he said, “I got some clothes for you in the back.” He paused for a moment, maybe hoping you would say something–give him some sort of approval. “I can drive somewhere better for you to change, but I thought you’d like to get out of that dress.”

You had never heard Joel talk so much at once, let alone fumble for words, but here he was, in front of you grasping at every word like if he said the wrong one it’d spit bullets through your skin. You felt bad, you truly did, the look on his face was something unreadable–a mix between guilt, regret, and grievance as if he had lost something or someone back in that house alongside Liz–his eyes screamed for a response, something to tell him you were alright, but your body physically couldn’t muster another word.

“Y’know you did the right thing,” he whispered, eyes shifting between somewhere on your face and the dashboard behind you. “Listen I…I don’t know what happened back there, but we had a plan and you went through with it. All I’m tryin’ to say is that if I were in your place I would have done the same thing…probably worse things.”

That last part came out so hushed that if you weren’t inches from his face, you wouldn’t have heard it. His muscles tensed and the arm that rested above you, leaning on the doorway, slapped the top of the truck with a loud bang. Backing away with a nod, you thought he was just going to round the truck and continue down the road, but instead, he warily outstretched his hand towards you.

Confused, you tilted your head, but gently placed your hand in his, at least giving him the comfort of your company rather than your words. His much larger hand clasped yours gently, like you would shatter if he held any harder, and he led you towards one of the cows that lingered alongside the road.

With a loud huff through his nose, the cow seemed apprehensive at your presence, but despite your hesitation, Joel pulled you closer.

“He ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he chuckled softly, moving his hand further up to encase your wrist, gently tugging your hand towards the cow’s nose. “They like bein’ scratched on their heads where they can’t reach.”

When your palm met the soft fur, your fingers instantly curled around his snout, scratching his nose as he nuzzled into your hand. The cow closed his eyes contently as your fingertips grazed along his fur, soon bringing both your hands up to cup his face. When you were done petting him, your hands now coated in oils and fur–a much more pleasant feeling compared to the blood–he let out another loud huff, this time followed by a moo as if he was saying “Thank you!”

The corners of your mouth twitched until they fully curled into a full smile, your hands eagerly going to pet the cow again.

“You ever pet a cow before?” Joel’s voice sounded hesitant to be asking a question, not wanting to make you feel compelled to speak.

Without thinking though, you shook your head. “You’d think being from Indiana that I’d have more run-ins with ‘em, but I lived more in the city.”

Surprised you had answered beyond a nod, Joel cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets as he racked his brain for what to say next. He didn’t know why he had felt so pressed to speak, but something in the back of his mind kept telling him that this was his fault, the way you had broken into a million pieces right before him, and he was going to put you back together.

He wondered for a moment why you hadn’t mentioned you lived so close, and that conversation with Samuel earlier had him convinced you had ties to Missouri, but he knew better than to dig up the past–especially at a time like this. So, he stuck to what he knew, to keep to the present and what was currently keeping you more grounded than he knew how to get you.

“Had lotsa buddies with farms back in the day, they had some really beautiful animals. Knew a guy with one of ‘em big ol’ long-haired cows, she was real pretty.”

Joel had his hand trailing along the back of the cow, focusing intently on her while he dug back deep to that memory. You kept your eyes on him, picturing the animal alongside him, weaving your fingers deeper into the cow's coat to try and imagine such long fur.

It was then that you realized how grounded you were in the present, both your body and mind working for one cause while you actually focused on something currently happening instead of your mind buzzing back and forth through different events of the night.

The sun was fully over the horizon now, sun spilling onto Joel’s face as he faced your direction, looking at the field. The morning light cast something softer across Joel’s face, maybe it was that early breeze or the peaceful twittering of birds that made him look so relaxed–his shoulders finally not held in that tensed hold, the wrinkles on his face slight and natural instead of being so creased and forced by his worried brow, and the corners of his lips twitched into that same carefree grin, but this time he didn’t wipe it away or try to hide it. The sight was a pleasant one and it made you want to imitate it as if just replicating his posture would make you feel the same comfort he displayed.

You didn’t know what in the field had him so enraptured–maybe a couple of cows playing, some birds flying high in the sky, or just the picturesque sunrise–so turning around to see a plain grassy field with the sun too bright to see much of anything, you turned back in confusion. It was only then that you realized Joel hadn’t been looking back out at the field, but rather at you, finding comfort in the ease you both had in this moment–able to push back the events from that house for just a moment and relish in the present.

“Thank you,” you mumbled for nothing in particular.

You felt grateful for him in that moment, each electrifying touch, hushed word, and shared laugh brought you back to a comfort that was hard to find in this world. Joel didn’t question your words, only humming in response as he flicked his eyes away and back towards the truck, a silent question of if you were ready to go back.

a special thanks to my taglist ♡ @anoverwhelmingdin @lowrisemiller @iamawkwardandshy @lanadelray1989 @worlds-we-write @princess76179 (message me to be added or removed)

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #tlou fic

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iraot · 5 months ago

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Did You Even Think | s.r

pairing steve rogers x small!reader word count 4,277 a/n gif credit - this fic did not come to me in one go like my original a/n said, in fact it sat in my drafts since 2022. :) yeah so here you go - its finished. I might have missed a few tags but its all pretty basic stuff. :3 Hope you enjoy. warnings angst, dom/sub dynamics, 1st time in relationship, innocence kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), domestic kink, hair pulling, 18+ only, size kink, age gap

She and Steve had been together for just over four months now, and though their relationship was solid in many ways, a gnawing doubt had started to creep into her mind. Sweet kisses, lingering touches, the warmth of his hand resting at the small of her back—these were all constants. But the moment things threatened to turn into something more, something deeper, he pulled away. Not harshly, not with rejection in his eyes, but with a quiet, almost reverent hesitation that left her feeling unspoken words pressing between them like a wall.

They’d talked about a lot since the battle with Thanos—what they wanted out of life now that the fighting was done. When Steve returned the Stones and finally let the weight of the shield slip from his grasp, he told her he was ready for something real. A normal life. A simple life. He’d grown out his beard again, rough and golden in the sunlight, because Captain America had been clean-shaven, and Steve Rogers wanted to be anything but him now. The mantle belonged to Sam Wilson, and Steve had no interest in reclaiming it. The idea of picking up the shield again felt wrong when all he wanted was apple-pie Sundays and lazy mornings tangled in sheets.

So why did it feel like he was still holding back?

She thought about the night before, how his kisses had deepened, how she had pressed herself against him, fingers curling into the fabric of his Henley, heart hammering with the silent question—Will you stay? Maybe this would finally be the moment he let go. Maybe he’d touch her the way she ached to be touched. But instead, he stiffened, pulled back, and then practically leapt off the couch like it had burned him.

"I—I gotta go," he stammered, pressing a final kiss to her forehead before grabbing his jacket.

She barely had time to process it before the door clicked shut behind him.

Now, hours later, the rational part of her told her there had to be a reason. Maybe something was weighing on him. Maybe he was struggling with the idea of moving forward. Maybe—maybe. But the darker voice in her mind whispered crueler thoughts: He doesn’t want you. Not like that. He never will.

She busied herself at the lab, preparing tools for Bucky’s usual tune-up. The Winter Soldier—no, Bucky Barnes, as he liked to remind people now—strode in, rolling his shoulder like the vibranium arm had a crick in it.

"Alright," he said, narrowing his eyes at her silence. "What’s going on?"

She glanced up at him. Bucky wasn’t one to dance around things. He was blunt, cutting, and she should’ve known he’d pick up on the fact that she wasn’t her usual self.

"It’s nothing," she mumbled, adjusting the wrench in her hands. "Just… stupid."

Bucky snorted. "Bullshit. Talk to me." He plopped down in his usual seat, watching her with the same sharp stare that had once made HYDRA operatives piss themselves.

She exhaled through her nose, then finally admitted, "I think Steve’s going to end things."

Bucky’s expression didn’t shift at first, but then his brows pinched together, his mouth pulling into something between confusion and annoyance. "The hell are you talking about? He doesn’t shut up about you."

That made her pause. "What?"

Bucky leaned forward, resting his metal arm on his knee. "You kidding? Every time we get together, it’s ‘She said this funny thing at dinner’ or ‘You should’ve seen the way she kicked my ass at chess’ or ‘Do you think she’d like this book?’ If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re the only thing running through that punk’s head."

Her throat tightened, her fingers gripping the wrench harder. "Then why does he act like I’m radioactive? Why does he barely stay for an hour when we have date night? Last night, I didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he bolted, mumbling something about paperwork."

Bucky shook his head, clearly baffled. "That doesn’t make sense."

"Tell me about it," she muttered.

He stared at her for a moment, then pulled out his phone. "Text him."

She blinked. "What?"

"Ask him to lunch," Bucky said, already tapping away at his own screen.

She knew what this was. She’d done the same thing before with a friend who thought their boyfriend was dodging them. If Steve replied to Bucky and not her, well… that would tell her all she needed to know.

"Bucky..."

"Just do it." His tone was firm. "If he ignores you and texts me back, I swear to God, I’ll rip him a new one."

She sighed, but her fingers moved before she could stop them. Hey, want to grab lunch today?

A minute later, Bucky sent his own message.

They waited.

Her message sat, cold and blue. Read. No reply.

Bucky’s phone buzzed immediately. He turned the screen toward her, and her stomach twisted.

Steve: Sure. The lobby’s got a great menu.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Oh, that motherf—"

She looked away, swallowing hard, ignoring the sting behind her eyes. Maybe she really had been fooling herself. Maybe Captain America had saved the world, but Steve Rogers didn’t have the courage to love her back.

Her bottom lip trembled, and she sniffed, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes before the tears could fully fall. This was it her worst fear staring her in the face. If Steve Rogers, the Steve Rogers, couldn’t want her, then who the hell could?

“Hey...” Bucky’s voice was softer than usual, a rare gentleness lacing the edges as he pulled her into his arms, rubbing slow circles along her back. “None of that, alright? I’ll talk to him… we’ll straighten this out.”

“And if..”

“If he wants to end things,” Bucky cut in, “then we’ll figure that out too. But I gotta hear his side before I knock some sense into his star-spangled ass.”

His dry humor forced a snicker out of her despite everything, and she wiped at her eyes, nodding.

She motioned toward his arm, and he let her go so she could get to work. But her mind was elsewhere—dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. This could be the end of her relationship, and her career in one fell swoop. If Steve broke it off, what then? The Avengers Compound wasn’t exactly known for its clean breakups. Would she have to pack up her desk? Start over somewhere else, if she could even find a job in her field again?

The rest of the day crawled by in a haze. No word from Bucky. Nothing from Steve. The old saying—"No news is good news"—didn’t cut it today. It never had.

By the time she packed up for the night, she had checked her phone so many times that the ghost of the screen lingered behind her eyelids. Still no texts. Still left on read. Even from Bucky.

Her heart pounded as she stepped inside her apartment, tossing her keys onto the counter. The silence was thick, oppressive. She scrubbed a hand down her face, exhaling.

“Took you longer than usual.”

Steve’s voice.

She yelped, spinning on instinct, hand flying to her chest as her heart tried to beat its way out of her ribs. “Jesus, Steve! What the hell?!”

Her pulse hammered, anger rising to mask the anxiety. He knew she hated being startled. If he wanted to talk, he could’ve waited with the damn lights on, or sat on the couch like a normal person instead of lurking in the dark like some super-soldier cryptid.

He turned the lamp on, and for the first time, she saw the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed like he was barely keeping himself together. Good. Let him squirm. He was the one who had been avoiding her, not the other way around.

“Bucky talked to me today,” he started, voice level but heavy. “Said you seemed really upset. You wanna tell me why?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she hung up her purse. “Oh, don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose but stayed silent, watching her. She hated that unreadable expression, the one that made her feel like she was talking to a wall.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she continued, voice rising with every word. “And not just today. Not just this morning when you completely ignored my text. This has been happening for weeks. You ignore me, you leave in a rush like you can’t stand to be near me, and you never stay longer than you have to.”

Steve nodded as she spoke, like he was absorbing her words, but she wasn’t sure if he was actually listening or just waiting for her to get it all out.

Her throat was tight now, but she pushed through. “So if you’re gonna end things, just do it. I don’t like waiting in limbo. I don’t like sitting here, wondering what I did wrong, what I did to make you pull away. I hate this, Steve.”

He exhaled, rubbing at his beard. His silence stretched between them like a chasm before he finally spoke.

“I was doing what was best for you.” His voice was rough. “If… if you knew the things I think about you, you’d want me gone.”

Something in her stomach twisted.

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Do you even realize what you do to me?” His voice was low now, raw. His hands flexed at his sides, like he was restraining himself. “I haven’t been able to think straight for days. Can’t eat. Can’t focus. I sure as hell can’t sit across from you at lunch when all I can think about is you on your knees—”

He stopped himself with a grunt, rubbing a hand down his face like the thought physically hurt him.

Her breath hitched. That… definitely wasn’t where she thought this was going.

“You what?” she whispered.

Steve took a step forward, and instinct had her stepping back until her spine met the wall behind her. His eyes were dark now, sharp with determination. There was something else in them too, something that made heat pool between her thighs before he even touched her.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you,” he admitted, voice low and thick with restraint. “But I knew if I didn’t leave when I did… I’d ruin you, sweetheart.”

A shiver rolled down her spine. She clenched her thighs, pulse hammering.

“How?”

His nostrils flared, and then he was on her.

His hand slid up her cheek, fingers curling against the side of her neck, tilting her face up to meet his. Then his lips crashed against hers hard, messy, all teeth and heat and barely-contained desperation.

She gasped into his mouth, hands fisting into his shirt. He didn’t hesitate grabbing the hem, yanking it over his head, and tossing it to the floor like it was offending him.

“This is the last time,” he murmured against her throat, his voice a gravel rasp.

“After this…” His teeth grazed the sensitive skin beneath her ear, making her whimper. “…you’re mine.”

The words sent molten heat flooding through her, soaking her panties before she could stop it.

“Steve, please..”

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, pressing her into the wall as his hands palmed her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her moan.

She barely registered him moving before she landed in the middle of the bed, breathless.

Steve stood at the foot of it, eyes dark, his gaze dragging over her like he could see straight through her clothes.

“Jesus,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Oh, she had a damn good idea.

Steve was breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling as he looked at her sprawled out on the bed—her hair wild, her chest heaving, lips swollen from his kiss.

"Take this off," he ordered, voice hoarse, fingers twitching at his sides.

She swallowed hard, hands fumbling at the hem of her shirt. Steve didn’t move as she pulled it over her head, exposing bare skin to the cool air. She had barely tossed it aside before he was on her again, pinning her to the mattress with his weight.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he muttered, his hands sliding up her body, mapping her like he needed to memorize every inch. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."

Her breath hitched as his mouth descended on her throat, lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her pulse. She arched into him, pressing her body against his, feeling the heat of his skin and the hard planes of muscle beneath it.

"Then why did you keep pulling away?" she whispered, fingers threading through his hair, nails raking against his scalp.

Steve groaned, his teeth grazing her collarbone before he pulled back to meet her gaze. His pupils were blown, his expression wrecked with barely-contained hunger.

"Because I knew," he admitted, his hand sliding down, fingers tracing the band of her leggings before slipping beneath it. "Knew if I let myself have you, I wouldn't stop."

She gasped as his fingers brushed over her soaked panties, his touch feather-light, teasing.

"And now?" she asked breathlessly, barely able to form words as he pressed his palm against her, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm.

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes darkening further.

"Now," he murmured, voice rough with conviction, "I don’t give a damn."

His patience snapped like a frayed wire. In one swift movement, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down, dragging her panties with them. She barely had time to process before he settled between her thighs, his broad hands gripping her hips to keep her still.

"Goddamn," he rasped, eyes locked on her as if he’d never seen anything so devastating in his life. "You’re perfect."

Heat flooded her cheeks, but she barely had time to be embarrassed before his mouth was on her, tongue sliding between her folds in a slow, deliberate stroke that sent shockwaves through her entire body.

She cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he groaned against her, like he was the one being undone.

"You taste like heaven," he muttered against her, voice muffled, lips dragging over her in a way that had her hips bucking against his mouth. "Better than I ever let myself imagine."

She moaned his name, thighs trembling against his shoulders as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking over her with devastating precision. Her body was burning, heat pooling deep in her belly, pressure building too fast.

"Steve," she gasped.

His grip tightened on her hips, keeping her firmly against his mouth. "Let go, sweetheart," he ordered, voice rough. "Give it to me."

Her body obeyed before her mind did white-hot pleasure crashing over her as she shattered beneath him, her back arching, her cries muffled by her own gasping breaths.

Steve groaned as she came against his tongue, lapping her up like he needed it, like he was starving.

When she finally slumped against the mattress, boneless, he pressed one last lingering kiss against her thigh before pulling himself up, his lips shining with the evidence of what he’d done.

His expression was wrecked, his jaw tight with restraint, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

"I meant what I said." He leaned down, caging her beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress. "You’re mine now."

Her breath hitched, a fresh wave of heat rolling through her at the sheer certainty in his tone.

"Then show me," she whispered.

Steve groaned, dragging her into another bruising kiss as he reached down, undoing his belt with one hand. Steve’s belt hit the floor with a dull thud, and she barely had time to breathe before he was over her again, his weight pinning her down, his mouth consuming hers with a hunger that felt like it had been caged for years.

Her fingers scrambled against his back, tracing over thick muscle as he settled between her thighs, his clothed hardness pressing against her slick heat. He was big—she could feel it even through the fabric of his jeans, the pressure sending a thrill up her spine.

His lips ghosted over her jaw, down her neck, his breath hot as he growled, "You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her head up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

There was something feral in his eyes—something dark and starved. Possession.

Her breath hitched as he dragged his free hand down her stomach, his fingertips barely grazing her overly-sensitive skin before dipping between her thighs. She was soaked, and Steve felt it.

"Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenching as his fingers slid through her wetness, teasing, testing. "You were made for me, weren’t you?"

She whimpered, bucking against his touch, desperate for more, but he didn’t give it to her—not yet. His fingers moved slowly, deliberate, just barely dipping inside before retreating, smearing her arousal over her swollen clit.

"Steve," she gasped, frustration lacing her voice as she tried to move her hips, but his other hand pressed firmly against her stomach, holding her down.

"Be patient, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her jaw. "I wanna take my time with you."

A whimper left her lips as he dipped his head, trailing hot kisses down her throat, his mouth searing against her flushed skin. He was moving like a man determined to devour her, to imprint himself into every inch of her body.

"Tell me you want this," he rasped, his voice shaking with restraint, like he was this close to snapping.

She shivered beneath him, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled him closer. "I want this. I want you."

Something inside him snapped.

He kissed her like he was starving, teeth clashing against hers, tongue sliding deep as he ground his hips into her, letting her feel just how hard he was. His hands were everywhere palming her breasts, gripping her hips, holding her like she was something he was afraid to lose.

Then, suddenly, he was gone sitting back on his knees, undoing his jeans with one hand, yanking the zipper down with a rough jerk.

Her mouth went dry as he freed himself, his cock thick and aching, flushed red at the tip, already leaking precum.

Steve caught the way her eyes widened, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "You can take it," he murmured, dragging his length over her slit, coating himself in her slickness. "I’ll make sure you do."

She barely had time to brace herself before he pushed in, just the tip, stretching her impossibly slow, letting her feel every inch as her body opened for him.

"Jesus Christ," Steve groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he fought to keep himself from slamming into her all at once. "So fucking tight, sweetheart, squeezing me like you don’t wanna let go."

She whimpered, nails raking down his back as she felt him stretching her inch by inch, every thick, pulsing inch sinking deeper until he bottomed out, buried to the hilt.

Her head fell back against the pillows, lips parted in a soundless moan as she struggled to breathe. "Steve..."

His mouth was on hers instantly, swallowing her gasps as he stilled, his body shaking from the effort. "Look at me," he demanded, voice barely more than a growl.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, her vision blurred with heat, with pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain.

"You feel that?" he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath ragged. "You were made for me, baby,” then he moved.

A slow, torturous drag before slamming back in, setting a rhythm that was devastatingly deep, rough, and possessive.

She cried out, her body jolting with every thrust, the pleasure so intense it bordered on unbearable.

Steve groaned, burying his face in her neck, his breath ragged. "Mine," he growled against her skin, punctuating the word with another sharp thrust. "Say it."

"Yours," she gasped, nails clawing at his shoulders. "I’m yours."

A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest, and then he was gone, lost in her, lost in the pleasure, lost in the feel of her wrapped around him, squeezing him like she never wanted to let go.

Her body was fire, nerves ablaze, every single inch of her consumed by him, the overwhelming stretch, the unrelenting force of his thrusts, the deep, possessive way he took her, like she was something he had finally allowed himself to have.

She could barely breathe, barely think. The only thing that existed was the way Steve filled her, the deep, ragged sounds that escaped his throat, the desperate way his hands held onto her like he thought she might disappear.

"Fuck," Steve groaned, his voice wrecked, his body trembling with restraint. "Sweetheart, I can't…not gonna last!"

His words sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her. "Don’t stop," she whimpered, nails dragging down his back, leaving marks he wouldn’t feel but she knew he’d wear like a brand. "Steve!”

That was all it took.

He snapped.

His grip on her hips tightened, and suddenly, he was driving into her, rougher, deeper, the rhythm frantic, almost desperate. Each thrust sent pleasure shattering through her, wrecking her, his body pressing into hers, so close yet somehow not close enough.

She was right there, right on the edge, her entire body coiling.

"Come for me," Steve ordered, his voice barely human, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot and ragged. "*I need you to come, sweetheart." he cursed.

Her body obeyed before her mind did.

The orgasm tore through her like a shockwave, her vision whiting out as she screamed his name, body convulsing around him, gripping him like she never wanted to let go.

Steve choked out a curse, his rhythm faltering as he felt her clench around him, pulling him deeper, sending him straight to the edge. His breath stuttered, his entire body shuddering as he slammed into her one final time, spilling deep inside her with a low, wrecked groan.

He froze, buried inside her to the hilt, his entire body shaking, a deep, guttural moan rumbling in his chest as he emptied himself completely, filling her so full it left her dizzy.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Their bodies were tangled, breath mingling, skin slick with sweat, the only sound in the room the rapid, erratic pounding of their hearts.

Then, slowly, Steve slumped forward, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath still uneven, his arms trembling as he caged her beneath him.

"Jesus," he whispered, voice wrecked, like he’d just been ruined.

She let out a shaky breath, hands sliding up to thread into his damp hair. "Yeah," she murmured weakly. "Jesus."

Steve exhaled a breathless chuckle, then—very carefully—pulled out of her, shifting to the side, immediately pulling her into his arms.

For a while, neither of them spoke. He just held her, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles along her spine, his lips brushing the top of her head.

But then, he sighed. A deep, heavy breath that made his chest rise beneath her cheek.

"I’m sorry," he murmured.

She blinked, tilting her head up to look at him. "For what?"

Steve groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "For being an asshole," he admitted, his voice dripping with regret. "For making you think I didn’t want you."

Her stomach twisted at the way his voice softened, at the sheer remorse in it. "I did," she confessed quietly. "I really thought you-"

"I know," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair, his grip tightening around her. "I hate that I made you feel that way."

She shifted in his arms, pressing a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. "Then why did you pull away?"

Steve inhaled sharply, his fingers stilling on her back.

For a moment, she thought he might not answer.

"Because I was scared," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Scared I’d ruin this. Scared I’d ruin you."

Her breath hitched. "Steve-"

He shook his head, tilting her chin up so he could look her in the eye. "I’ve spent my whole life fighting, being a soldier, being ‘Captain America,’ being whatever the world needed me to be. But with you…" He exhaled sharply, his expression raw. "With you, I don’t have to be anything other than just…me."

Her heart clenched. "And you thought that wasn’t enough?"

Steve’s jaw tensed, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "I thought if I let myself have you, I’d lose control. I thought I’d need you too much." He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Turns out I was right."

She swallowed hard, fingers threading through his. "I don’t mind."

He gave her a look. "Sweetheart, I just fucked you so hard I nearly broke the bed."

She snorted, cheeks flushing, but didn’t look away. "I still don’t mind."

Steve groaned, pulling her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. "God help me," he muttered. "I’m never letting you go."

She smiled, her lips pressing against his bare shoulder. "Good." Steve Rogers finally allowed himself the one thing he had denied for too long, peace.

Because she was his and he was never letting her go.

#steve rogers smut #stever rogers x freader #marvel smut #this has been sitting in my drafts for three years #ya'll lmfao

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lgwifey · 2 months ago

Text

PROMISE

Chapter Five • Chapter Four Here •

Demetri Volturi x Fem!(cullen)Reader

Chapter Warnings : Google translated Italian & French, brief mention of traumatic events, description of killing animals, this has not been proof read and is adapted from one of my Wattpad drafts so pls ignore any slip ups 🫶

Jane had shown her into a large suite, a mixture of warm grey and peacock blue decorating the walls and furniture. A sweet scent of citrus suffocated her as soon as the door opened, her dead heart awakening into palpitations for some obscure reason. The witch twin clearly didn't notice anything as she just left the newest member of the guard by herself, a scowl sent her way before she vanished.

A large bed sat in the centre of the room, Y/N grimaced slightly at the thought of why that was needed. She'd never had a bed since she was turned, but the rest of her family did. Edward had only gotten one recently, as a place for 'the human' to sleep. She preferred her sofas.

Her eyes found one in the corner of the room, infront of a large arched window looking onto the fields surrounding the town. The dark grey, velvet fabric was worn at points, clearly having been treated well but ageing naturally as time passed. She began to wonder how much older some of the objects in the room were compared to her.

On the same side of the room was a relatively large bookcase, similar to the size of her own in Forks but a shade of pine rather than the dark oak she adored. It held an array of coloured spines, most of the worn with age and use. Her body urged to go and see what collection 'Demetri' held over the years. She wondered how old he was, she'd never heard Carlisle mention him. Was he here when her adoptive father was all those century's ago ?

Her head clouded with questions as she strolled through the rest of the room. She wondered into the open doorway on the opposite side of the room to the sofa and bookcase, eyes glowing with mesmer as she caught sight of the vast array of suits hung in what was obviously this guy's walk-in wardrobe.

She ran her hand over the closest outfit ; a grey rayon challis suit jacket-coat and trouser set with shades of navy, cyan, cobalt and peacock embroidering the waistcoat. The one beside it was slightly more modern ; a midnight black cotton blend blazer and trousers and a matching waistcoat with water coloured burgundy red and burnt orange buttons. Though simple, it was clearly an expensive set. The material was richer than what was in most shops and it was most likely tailor fitted.

She carried on through the suits, not a single set of modern clothes on the hooks. She became more and more astonished at the mixture of rich clothing. Each suit was unique to anything she'd ever seen before.

Every second she was in the room her heart seemed to race with a speed she'd never felt. The scent of lemons and limes overtaking her brain.

Suddenly, there was a heavy knock against the door.

Y/N gave a panicked blink to the entrance from within the closet, rushing with all her speed to the main room in an attempt to not look nosey.

She launched herself on the nearest seat as the door began to open, a squeal leaving her lips as she noticed herself on the bed that had been used with who knows.

Alec walked into the room with a bored expression, it was quickly replaced when he found the new girl falling off of Demetri's bed and onto the half oak floor.

"I see you're making yourself comfortable."

The old English accent that came from the youthful boy brought Y/N's attention back. A bashful smile falling on her as she found him holding a hand out to help her up, his other folded behind his back.

The second twin was slightly taller than his sister, still at least half a foot shorter than herself thought. His cheeks still held their childish rounding even after the hollowing the change brought anyone who went through it.

"Don't worry, the sheets get washed."

She sent Alec an unamused look as she patted her clothed down, fixing her jeans from their crinkled appearance.

"Funny. Won't his mate be annoyed I'm in his room ?"

"Demetri doesn't have a mate."

The answer drew Y/N's brows together, her eyes darting to look back to the bed and then to the taller figure infront of her, a few blinks of question being sent to the clearly more likeable twin.

It only took a smirk and the two words to make her feel like gagging.

"Signor Casanova."

The older boy gave a chuckle in response, his arm from behind his back coming toward her with a black duffle bag, her black duffle bag.

"You left this in the reception area, I assumed you would want to get changed out of those god-awful clothes."

Y/N gave him a gawp at the insult, snatching the bag out of his hands and zooming over to the grey sofa to place it down, unzipping the top and letting out a smile when she noticed the photo and its frame still in tact.

"I'll have you know these jeans are Armani."

"Am I supposed to be impressed ?"

She sent him an eye-roll, placing the photo delicately on the seat, beside her bag, and taking out one of her dresses from the bottom of the bag.

"Anyways, thank you."

"No problem."

She sent an awkward smile back to the brunette as she stood with a relaxed smirk. Y/N assumed that it was just his resting face with how often he wore that exact look in the few minutes she'd seen him.

"Urm, I was going to get changed."

"Oh, right."

Alec gave a curt nod, she assuming that he'd take the que to leave the room. He didn't. The millenniums old pre-teen simply turned his body around to face the curve of the door and wall. She knew that it was the most privacy she was going to get so started removing her dust tainted sweater and jeans, slipping the black cotton-blend dress over her head and fixing it down her body. The clothing had soft tulip sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, clinging to her torso's shape before flowing down loosely towards her mid-calf. She finally slipped her adidas back on over her white, scrunched ankle socks, a mutter to Alec that he could turn back around - which he was more than happy to.

"I was wondering if you wanted the castle and gardens tour ?"

"You really don't have to-"

"It's my job, and Jane's - but she hates you so that's not going to happen."

Y/N just gave a small laugh, pushing herself the sofa with a kind nod.

"That would be lovely then."

"Great. We can leave now if you have nothing else planned ?"

She gave a nod in response, lightly lifting her photo back into her bag and leaving the duffle open on the chair. She assumed no one was going to use the room whilst she was gone.

Alec started the tour from the room she was staying in, seeing how 'Demetri' was one of the 'most treasured guards' so his room was one of the highest in the castle. Alec followed that sentence with 'my room's just next door' so she wasn't sure if there was a bit of biases in the order of guard appreciation.

"The masters' rooms are on the floor above but you won't need to go there unless summoned."

As he went to carry on down the hall, Alec noticed the figure beside him having disappeared. He was about to curse how he'd managed to loose her with a minute but quickly turned to find the girl staring at one of the framed canvas hung on the brick walls.

"These paintings are magnificent !"

Alec retraced his steps, standing beside the girl with a nod.

"Master Caius created most of them, he's quite talented."

"100 percent."

They carried on through the corridors with comfortable conversation, Y/N honestly not paying attention to where they were. She was definitely going to get lost a few times before she knew where anything was.

"So what's everyone's gifts ? If you're 'the most treasured guards' there's got to be something special about you."

Alec gave a laugh at the quotations she made with her fingers. He simply pointed to his face, the smirk on his lips growing as he gave her a wink.

"Well obviously mine is my outrageous good looks."

"Oh course, what else could it be (?!)"

The duo shared a laugh. They were clearly becoming good friends quickly, a few stray guards sending amused looks to the two as Alec gave an occasion fact about where they strolled.

"I take away senses, Jane caused fire-like pain."

"Ying and Yan then." She received a questioning brow off the younger twin, quickly explaining herself. "You mute someone's senses whilst Jane awakens them ?"

"I guess, I've never thought of that."

"See, I'm not just a pretty face, the brain works too."

"Felix and Demetri are away on a mission at the moment so you'll meet them next week if everything goes to plan. Felix doesn't hold an exact gift but he's very powerful strength wise and Demetri is the strongest tracker in history."

"That's quite a pedestal."

"Trust me, it sucks when you're playing nascondino."

"You play hide and seek ?"

The new arrival held back a snort of laughter, Alec just becoming more exasperated.

"Not anymore ! He won too easily."

They turned a corner, more brick wall directing them as Alec fully forgot he was supposed to be giving a tour.

"What's your gift ? Master Aro mentioned one."

"Well it's two I guess, I have the gifts of charm and persuasion."

Alec just gave her a look which stated he didn't believe her. Y/N rolled her eyes in return, grabbing onto his arm to stop him before fluttering her lashes.

"Inginocchiarsi, per favore." [kneel, please]

Alec suddenly dropped to his suited knees in the hallway, Y/N checking that there were no other guards around them before lifting her illusion with a quick 'grazie'.

A glaze lifted from his eyes as he started looking around, confusion evident as he looked up to the smirking girl holding her hand out to him. He reluctantly took it with a soft scowl sent her way, dusting his knees of the stay dust before he carried on walking. Y/N followed, a bright grin on her lips.

"Okay, I believe you. My time for questions, when did you get turned ?"

"1943."

"Oh so you're a proper baby ?"

"I am not ! You look like you've just left kindergarten. "

"I'm over two thousand, so you are a baby."

"You're just ancient."

"And you're an infant."

They looked at each other with their smirks strong, Y/N rolling her eyes as a que for the next question.

"Where are you from, your Italian is eccellente [excellent]."

"New Jersey."

The answer sent Alec into confusion, she gesturing for him to wait for the answer to the Italian remark.

"My family were Italian immigrants, moved over after the First World War. My father made sure I knew the language perfectly. I barely spoke English until I was with the Cullens."

"That explains it then."

"Si. What about you ?"

"England, Aro rescued me and Jane from being burnt in the witch trials."

"Why would you get burnt before you were turned ?"

Lines decorated between Y/N's brows, Alec just gave a shrug.

"We were twins, back then people thought it was a mark of the devil."

"I think I read about that in history class." The boy gave a nod with a few laughs, Y/N giving him a nudge to the arm and a smile in return. "I did !"

"I'm not disputing it !"

They finally reach the end of one of the corridors, a large brown oak door pausing their path. Alec gave it a light push, Y/N trailing behind him. Her eyes squinted when a sudden burst of light hit them.

"And these are the gardens."

They walked in silence for a while, Y/N getting distracted by the amount of species of plant surrounding them.

As they were walking through the different shades of roses, a soft mew was heard a few meters away. The girl of the duo's starved eyes shot open, darting at the area the sound echoed from. A shuffle of leaves was heard and before Alec could look to the tabby cat strolling the gardens, the girl beside him launched at it.

Alec walked over to her as she drained the animal before him, eyes wide in amusement as the taste melted in Y/N's mouth. It took her a minute for her to drain the body, discarding it in the middle of the rose bush, it was then that her eyes zoned back in to her surroundings. A bashful and bloody look gazing up at the muffled laughs of Alec.

"I'm hungry."

"I've never seen someone drain a cat."

She gave a scowl at the pathetic animal, remembering her feeds in Forks and Denali.

"Stag are much better."

"We feed off humans here."

She paused for a moment, eyes in thought as they shifted to a softer gold than the brown topaz they'd been over the last day. She gave a shrug, if she was going to remain there there was no point arguing their meal choice. Carlisle had gave her the whole 'more humane' peach once she'd turned, but he also thought her gift was inhumane and here they appreciated it.

"Oh yeah ! I'll have to get used to that, I've never had human blood before."

"Did Carlisle turn you then ?"

Y/N practically froze, her mind trying to not run over the vicious scene playing from her point of view. She blinked out of it eventually, Alec having noticed the sudden mood change and also noticing not to bring it up with her. It was clearly not something she wanted to talk about.

"Edward found me mid-change. I was bit by a nomad."

She kept her answer short, quickly trying to change conversation topic.

"Do you have clothes shops near here ? I think I'm a bit underdressed."

She'd took note of the gowns and suits the other guards wore around the corridors and in the throne room, starting to feel bare even in one of the most formal dresses she owned. She clearly hadn't thought anything through when she was packing - then again, she was in a slight rush.

"We have a covern tailoress, Madeline. I can take you to her to get your measurements and she'll drop some dresses off in Demetri's room for you ?"

"That would be fabulous, thank you."

Alec linked her arm this time as he lead her back into the castle, only a few doors past before he gave a singular knock on a white varnished door. Not a millisecond later, a caramel brown haired woman appeared before them, a bright smile on her lips as she greeted them, ushering them into the room.

"Alec, darling ! Lovely to see you again. And who do we have here ?"

She sent a smirk to the young boy, Alec just giving her a smirk in reply at the suggestive tone of the clearly kindhearted woman. If Y/N could blush, she would definatly be beet red.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N, she'll be joining us here. I was hopeing that you would be kind enough to take her measurements."

A smile reached Y/N's lips as she noticed how Alec had introduced her, golden eyes looking down to his crimson ones with a shine in them. She was trying to ditch the prejudices the covern clearly held to her previous family, using her birth surname helped alot.

"Oh course I can ! I always have time for my favourite guard's friends."

Madeline gave a kind smile to the new member of the guard, directing her over to the small metal pedestal in-front of a span of mirrors. A blur of the woman whipped around her with a white tape and within the minute her sizes were jotted into a small notebook on the other side of the room.

"When where you born darling."

Y/N gave a blink as the woman returned with swatches of coloured fabric, eyes looking in the mirror's reflections to Alec as if to ask permission to answer. He gave her a nod in return.

"1924 ?"

"Aw, you're just a baby then. Don't worry, I'll make you the most fabulous dresses my hands can muster."

Madeline gave a toothy smile, directing the girl back to Alec, the boy stood with a humorous smirk at the infant comment.

"Oh you pop children, I'll bring the dresses to your room tomorrow. Will you be wanting a cloak ?"

"Oui, merci Madeline."

Alec answered for her, Y/N turning to him at the language change. She guess she should've picked up on the slight French tilt in the woman's accent.

"Elle est dans Demetri's chambre." [she's in Demetri's room]

Y/N looked between the smirking pair nervously before the woman gave a sharp toned comment.

"Je voids. J'espère qu'il agit monsieur comme." [I see. I hope he is acting gentleman-like]

Alec just gave a frightened nod in reply, Y/N turning to him with confused eyes. She was wondering if she should be running for the hills with how the boy reacted.

"Bien, maintenant laisse-moi travailler. Faites ce que vous faites, les jeunes." [good, now let me work. Go do whatever you do, youths]

Alec quickly turned, linking his arm with Y/N again and dragging her out of the room, not letting her say thanks to the lovely but clearly terrifying woman.

They ended up back in the gardens, Alec wondering further into the foliage with the confused girl on his arm. The sun had lowered slightly compared to the blared light before.

"What did she say ? What did you tell her ?"

"I told her you were staying in Demetri's room... she may have got the wrong idea."

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her right palm coming up to slap the boy's shoulder in horror.

"And you didn't correct her because ?!"

"She scares me !"

Her eyes widened, upper lip turning as she shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"She's scary ! She hit Felix once."

"I guess I'll forgive you then (!)"

The sarcastic reply came sharp, Y/N holding her expression.

"You haven't been on her bad side !"

Her mind was distracted by a rustling nearby, the scent of rabbit filling the younger girl's senses before she took off in the wooded area's direction, a confused Alec hot on her tail. The boy paused his speed when he noticed her launching herself to the grown, a large rabbit in her mouth whilst her hands snapped the necks of the other two animals with practiced ease.

Another bundle of laughs were released from above her as Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, draining each animal before throwing them into a nearby bush.

"What ?"

"I think you've got a hare in your mouth."

The boy's smirk simply grew as he relayed the terrible joke, just earning an eye roll for a reaction.

Chapter Six

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#twilight x reader #twilight #demetri volturi x fem!reader #demetri volturi x reader #demetri x reader #demetri volturi #volturi x reader #volturi #cullen!reader

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pintrestgrl · 6 months ago

Note

barry giving precious head because she was crying too much so he just eats her out until she is crying for another reason, literally telling her "stop crying or i will give you a reason to cry" and that makes her think of her dad so now she is crying even more but this also makes her so wet.

sorry i am rambling but i just saw that barry pic and it did things to me

🐦‍⬛

BARRY ‘ND PRECIOUS

this has been in my drafts for literally ages n it’s also kinda short but here u go mama

barry knew how to shut precious up. it became a routine after years of the act. so, when he came home to her crying, he knew what to do. just like he always did. every time.

the minute he saw a tear drop, he rolled his eyes. he kept up the comfort act for a minute or so, rubbing her cheek n playing with her hair. but he couldn’t keep it up. he knew that.

so, he subtly managed to get her into the springy bed, laid on her back while he let her hold his hand. he claimed he had just the thing to make her feel better.

he carefully pryed her out of her panties as the tears continued, distracting him. he sighed at the consistent weeping, sitting up. he harshly pulled her up by the back of her head, fisting her hair inbetween his fingers.

he brought his face close to hers, pupils locking. “precious, if you don’t stop fuckin’ cryin’, i’m really gonna give you somethin’ to cry ‘bout.”

she looked at him, as if his words were being worn on his face. she had nothing but a look of uncertainty in her eyes. unsure, if he was serious about his words. but his words sounded too familiar. somethin her daddy used to say to her. a lot, actually.

precious had always been a cryer.

he pushed her back down by her ribs, holding her there in place. she let the words simmer in her mind, memories of her daddy taking over in her head. he brought his head down to her clit, placing a gentle kiss onto the bud. he licked a long stripe up her folds, holding her thighs down with his elbows.

she tried to silent her cries, not wanting to make barry any more upset. however, they were still there nonetheless. he continued his motions, his lips attaching to her clit to suck every so often. bringing his tongue back down, to her hole. she whimpered, from his actions. from his words.

he kept up with his actions, his hold getting tighter on her ribs. he brought his hand to her hole, letting two fingers slip into her. she sighed at the fullness, letting his tongue lap at her clit. his other hand, still allowed to hold on to hers. he wasn’t a monster.

soon enough, she came onto his fingers. he lifted his head up, seein the wet still splayed across her cheeks. he sat her up, shoving his two covered fingers into her mouth. he wiped the tears, on her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. keeping eye contact with her.

she swallowed around his digits, signaling she was done. he pulled them out, with a pop. he brought his head down, kissing the scar on her pussy that had been his doing. knife accident, that she never knew whether it really was an accident or not.

he grabbed her panties, putting them back on her. letting the fabric of the string pop against her hip. he brought her in by the back of her head, placing a kiss on the crown. pulling away, he analyzed her. “you satisfied, precious?”

she knew there was a right answer. and that there would be consequences if she answered incorrectly. she nodded her head, looking at him. he gave her a small smirk of approval, patting her cheek lightly.

he let her go, grabbing a towel off the doorknob and presumably going to shower. precious brought her knees up to her chest, letting her head rest on them. thinking.

barry had always reminded her of her daddy. the one she didn’t ever have.

#pintrestgrl #talk to jae #anon ask #precious 🦢#barry coded #🐦‍⬛ anon #obx #obx barry #obx au #barry smut #barry obx smut

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halohalona · 11 months ago

Text

Letting Go

Old memories resurface so Logan reminds you who is truly there for you.

Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: the fics I'm starting to write are getting more and more self indulgent and the situations are getting hyper-specific. Not only do I want to be with Logan, on so many different levels, he's also become such a comfort character to me (or maybe it's just hugh jackman idk). ANYWAY, this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now so enjoy the short fic

masterlist

warnings/tags: more emotional hurt/comfort, Logan is probably a little or a lot ooc here, I wanna specify this is the movie logan and not the comics, betrayal? idk, I probably forgot a few details about Wolverine here

Logan noticed you've been quiet recently. Not only that but you've been avoiding him. One time when you rounded a corner of the mansion's many hallways you immediately turned back the way you came when you saw him. Did he do something wrong? Every time he tried to talk to you, you would run away.

He asked Ororo if she knew what was going on but she didn't know either. He asked Jean but she didn't know anything either, but he did find out that you've been avoiding everyone. Scott, Ororo, Jean, Hank— not just him. It even came to the point where he asked the professor himself and all he said was, “She needs her space.”

He was at the library looking for a specific textbook he needed for his next class when he heard sniffling from a secluded corner of the library— your corner. You told him once that you've pretty much claimed that part of the library for yourself since it was secluded and quiet enough that no one would bother you as you worked.

He slowly and quietly walked over. Sure enough you were there. Your laptop was in front of you, folders neatly stacked around you on the table, and your bag placed on the side facing the main library, likely to hide your face.

He sat in front of you, gently moving the folders to the side before speaking.

“Hey.” he said softly.

You jumped and quickly wiped your face but your head was still down. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you crying, of course I'm gonna go check on you. You've been avoiding me all week. Something's going on, and as your boyfriend I want to know.”

You don't say anything.

“Is this about Eve?”

Silence.

He leans back on the chair crossing his arms. “You know that was years ago right?”

Eve was a close friend of yours. You both have been friends for almost two years back in high school. She was someone who stood by you through your toughest times, and at the time there was a lot, specially since that was same point in your life your mutation decided manifest. But then you guess they got sick and tired of having to deal with what you were going through with you because one day you learned from your best friend, who was a mutual friend of yours, that she planned on cutting you off. You don't remember exactly what she said but one thing was clear to you, she no longer wanted any relationship with you, not even an acquaintance. What stuck with you was the promise she made a year prior: “If you think I'm gonna leave you, I won't,” which ended up being a lie.

It's been years, you know that it's time to move on, but every now and then it haunts you. You've been keeping people at arms length since then, not sharing much about yourself aside from the basics: name, age, and what you like to do in your free time. Although you've opened up a bit when you started dating Logan, you've share a few things about Eve, but you still hold back in fear of the whole thing to happen again.

“You have to let it go. I'm not saying this to be dismissive, I'm saying it because holding on to it will prevent you from finding people who actually care for you.” he unfolds his arms and leans on the table closer to you. “Like I've said before, if she was able to let you go so easily, then maybe she wasn't a good friend to begin with.”

He walks over to your side of the table and kneels beside you. Gently, he places his hand on the side of your face lifting it up to make you look at him.

“I know it hurts to be abandoned by someone you cared for deeply, but dwelling on what happened won't bring them back. It's time for you to focus on the people who genuinely care about you. Ororo, Jean, Hank, Scott, pretty much everyone in the mansion, and of course me.”

Your eyes start to well up again, a couple tears escape, sliding down your cheek. Logan gently brushes them away.

“I know she's told you this but when I say I won't leave you, no matter how hard things get, I mean it. I love you and I care for you, remember that.”

You look into his eyes for any sign of deceit and seeing none, he genuinely means it. So for the first time in years, you trust those words. You lean your forehead on his “I believe you. And thank you.” you whisper.

#logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman #logan x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #xmen #marvel #mari cliffgate's writing

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huramuna · 2 years ago

Text

growing on you - oneshot.

modern aemond x (ex) girlfriend reader

content: smut (specifics under the cut), afab reader, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of depression and its effect on the body, probably an unhealthy relationship, aemond being an idiot, probably ooc aemond, reader not described, no use of y/n, targtowers seek therapy: the story, fluff at the end bc hehe

work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts for a while. tweaked to be a fun 'lil angsty end of year holiday fic. as is my motto: fuck it we ball. a/n 2: i pivoted from a third person pov fic to a second person pov fic 3/4 through writing this using the find and replace tool, so if there are grammar errors, i apologize! also my first time doing second person pov, weehee.

monsters - all time low ft. blackbear • why do i - set it off ft. hatsune miku

warnings: p in v, creampie, cockwarming, slightly tipsy sex

Everything in your life was enveloped by him. your clothes smelled like him, small strands of his hair were woven into every nook and cranny of your apartment together, his fitness regime protein powder and ketogenic supplements were littered in your kitchen cabinets.

You couldn’t get rid of him, not even if you tried. Aemond was all you'd ever known— you have known one another since the age of seven, and have been in a relationship since fourteen. You were both now twenty-six. Twelve years you’ve been together romantically (longer, even, but you were both too stubborn to admit it) and nineteen years you’ve been in each other's lives in some capacity or another.

You’ve been involved together longer than you’ve not known each other. You hardly knew who you were without Aemond— a thought that scared you deeply.

It’s been two weeks since he moved out, only temporarily he’d said. He needed space. He would still pay his share of the rent and you didn’t need to worry about that.

But what about everything else? What about him warming you at night? Comforting you when you had nightmares? What about his items in the fridge, surely you’d spoil if he didn’t use them soon. What about Vhagar? Their— no, his geriatric cat that he took with him to God knows where— she must be terrified, surely.

Was he giving Vhagar her medicine before bed? Of course he was— he was the more responsible one anyway.

You paced back and forth until the soles of your feet ached and then some. Knowing Aemond for so long, you had intimate knowledge on everything about him, you were woven into each other's DNA like vines on a trellis, growing and expanding until you swallowed all of the other plants whole.

That is what happened, wasn’t it? You grew too large, too comfortable and became stagnant. You weren't unaware of his rising workload at his firm, but he had always been a workaholic— throughout their teenage years, through college and grad school. It never slowed him down so you didn’t understand the change in behavior.

Aemond was closed off. He always was a bit emotionally stunted due to his upbringing or lack thereof from his father and everything that happened surrounding his eye, but he had a soft side for you, always for you. You could retrace every part of him perfectly from memory, always could make him laugh, could comfort him when he recused himself, and the rare times he did cry, you were there.

But the last few months there was a shift— a change in him. Where he had been hard to open before, like a rusty hinge just requiring some oil, he was now padlocked, ironclad and impenetrable. Attempts to talk were shrugged off, ignored or diverted.

“Please, just talk to me, Aemond,” you said one night as you sat on the couch. You were watching your collective favorite show and he wasn’t even commenting on it like he usually did, he was silent and deadpanned. “I don’t understand what’s wrong if you don’t talk about it.”

“There's nothing wrong, therefore, nothing to talk about. I’m just tired from work,” he responded gruffly. “Stop whining.”

His tone was clipped and harsh, sending a wave of hurt trickling through your body. you were overly emotional, where he was under emotional— usually, you balanced each other out and struck a good middle ground, but in times like these, during fights, things would get explosive.

The tears started right away, your little sniffling cries stifled by a hand over your mouth. You turned away, wrapping yourself in the blanket.

“Seriously?” he growled, “I didn’t even say anything and you’re fucking crying again.”

“I d-don’t appreciate your tone, Aemond— you’re being mean,” you sniffed, wiping away tears that were soon just replaced by new ones. “Please, don’t be mean to me.” you were always soft hearted, and it was one of the things Aemond loved about you— or he had loved at one point.

“I’m not being mean,” he pinched his brow, “you’re overreacting and I do not have the capacity to deal with your antics anymore.”

Of course, your mind hit the panic button. ‘Anymore’ meaning that he didn’t want to deal with you at all, ever. The tears increased and you recused yourself further into a ball.

“Fucking hell.” he cursed, getting up from the couch and stomping outside to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette. He was out there for about an hour— you had cried yourself to sleep.

It was many situations like that for weeks that finally just… broke him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said one day, slamming his keys down on the kitchen table, “I seriously cannot deal with your childish shit anymore— I’m working my ass off at the firm, actually bringing in money and I still have to come home and tend to you. you’re twenty-six, grow up and stop crying at every little thing. It’s fucking infuriating.”

“You know I can’t control that part of me!” you screamed back, your temper rising immediately to match his. The words flowing out of your mouth didn’t feel like yours, but some sort of defensive mechanism. “You can’t do this anymore? You’re not doing anything Aemond, except pushing me away. God, you haven’t even touched me in weeks.”

“Oh, so this is about sex?” he countered, getting closer to you, nostrils flaring. “You’re mad because I won’t fuck you? Are you that desperate?”

That one stung, to be sure. Aemond had been your first and only— you only ever knew him, only ever had him. “No, not just sex,” you murmured, “you haven’t even… just touched me normally. No hugs, no little caresses, nothing— it's as if I’m an aversion to you.”

He backed up from you, “Maybe we’re just too close,” he admitted, “We’ve been together too long. It's not fun anymore, it’s not new— it’s the same old, same old, going through the motions for release, not because I actually like it.”

“I don’t understand.” you said, your voice sounding disconnected from your body. The tips of your fingers felt numb, the numbness spreading through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to escape.

“I need space. I need to think about this.”

“This?”

“Us. I need to think about us and if this is something I really want,” he paused, “You’re… too much and not enough right now.”

“Wh— Aemond, please,” you whispered, your voice broken, “What can I do? I’ll… I’ll change, I won’t cry or whine anymore— please.”

He stared at you, his prosthetic eye unmoving while his remaining one bored into you, “I will think about it.”

“What… does this mean?”

“We are taking a break, alright? I’ll have my essentials out and I’m going to stay with Aegon.”

“Please— don’t go. I need you.”

That was the end of that conversation. That was the last time you spoke, two weeks ago. You expected him to text you at some point, to check in on you, to maybe try to talk things out.

Nothing. There's been nothing. Radio silence.

You felt isolated— you had no family, as your parents were estranged from you. you couldn’t go to Aemond’s family, as close as you were to them all, it just simply wasn’t an option.

You didn’t have friends. All you knew was Aemond.

It was early in the evening and you were in a deep pit of self-loathing. You decided to text him.

You swallowed thickly— the green meant he either turned off his phone or blocked you. You hoped that it wasn’t the latter.

The next few weeks were a blur. You felt like you were barely living, merely going through the motions to stay alive— not that you really were.

You woke up, went to work, came home, scrounged up food and then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Weeks become months of your monotony, and no word from Aemond. He still had half of his stuff left in the apartment, you felt like you could barely breathe. At every turn there was something to remind you of him.

You’d lived in this apartment together for four years, the evidence of your relationship etched into the very walls. It was like the space was closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath, barely keeping your head above water.

You had to move out— you had to get away.

You managed to find a place, a cheap studio above a coffee shop downtown. The landlord was an old lady who was sympathetic to your situation and agreed to let you take the space quickly.

There was still the matter of your and Aemond’s current apartment— or, rather, it was just Aemond’s now.

Saving yourself the embarrassment of seeing if you were still blocked, you called Aegon. He was a better messenger than none.

“Hey, Egg,” you said, sitting on the couch. you bounced your knee up and down, biting at the skin of your lip. You and Aegon were amicable, not necessarily as close as you and Aemond, but you grew up together. Aegon ran in different social circles than you and you were somewhat polar opposites so you never really stuck— you did have your phases of friendship, though– which pissed Aemond off to no end. “Um, I don’t know if this is the right way to go about things but, do you mind relaying a message to Aemond for me?”

“Yeah, ‘spose I could. What’s up?” Aegon replied, his tone nonchalant like usual.

“I’m moving out of the apartment into my own place, so I guess he can go back. I’ll have all my stuff out by tomorrow.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Aegon said, “He’s been driving me up the wall with his tidy, feng shui bullshit. He rearranged my whole place like five times and has taken up all the space in my cabinets with that nasty no-carb shit,” he paused for a moment, “I… didn’t mean that in a bad way to you, ‘course. I’m sorry it had to come to this. He’s a fucking idiot.”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your first laugh in months. “Yeah– he… tends to do that. He left half of his stuff here, it feels like I’m living in the twilight zone. I just… gotta get away, you know?”

“Hey, I get that– you don’t have to explain yourself to me. He’s a dickhead and doesn’t understand how good he has it. If you want, I can bring my truck over tomorrow and help you move stuff.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Egg.”

“I want to– please.”

Your brow furrowed– Aegon usually wasn’t so persistent on anything unless it involved drinking or drugs. But, you hadn’t had real human contact in eons besides at work so… maybe it could be good.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Thank you, really.”

–

It was rainy the next day– nasty and wet, droplets pouring down like tears. It felt somewhat familiar.

But, Aegon showed up like he promised, rolling up in his old, fading yellow pick-up truck. His hair was much shorter than you remembered and he looked actually well kept– Aemond must’ve been whipping him into shape.

He waved and ran through the rain, standing under the eave, “So– it’s raining.”

You snorted, “I think I can see that,” you teased with a tiny smile, “Not sure when it’ll let up.”

“I brought uh…” he paused for a moment to think, stretching out his arms in a square shape, “Y’know?”

“A tarp?”

“Yup– that,” he gave a lopsided grin, inviting himself in through the open door, “you aren’t going to kick me out if I don’t take off my shoes, right?”

You glanced down at his boots– they were a bit muddy and definitely wet. Aemond wouldn’t have let him step two feet through the threshold without taking them off. But– you weren't Aemond. “No, keep them on if you want. It’s not my problem if you track dirt through the place anyway.”

He nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket for a moment and shooting a quick message to someone. “Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s just… he’s my brother. It would be kind of… I dunno, crossing some sort of unsaid boundary if I visited his… girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. I guess,” you corrected softly– but you didn’t really know yourself what it was. He wouldn’t talk to you, “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anyone to really reach out anyway, because of that… unsaid boundary thing.”

“We should’ve. you’re a part of our family with or without Aemond. Me, Helaena and Daeron have a whole group chat about it. Even mom asked where you’ve been,” he scratched the back of his head absentmindedly as he sent out another text, “Someone should’ve checked up sooner.”

“You’re acting like I’m some sort of neglected puppy, Aegon,” you turned to him, “... do I really look so terrible?”

Aegon glanced up at you, his mouth formed in a hard line. He cracked his knuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t lie to you. You look half dead.”

You blinked. Hard. Moving towards a mirror in the hall, you looked at yourself. Dark circles under sunken eyes, your skin was a pale pallor and your hair needed a trim desperately, your split ends curled and fettered. You were gaunt, as well– having lost a bit of weight over the months. “Jesus,” you muttered. Glancing over at Aegon, he was texting again. “Sending an update to the group chat, I guess? ‘Good news, she’s still alive, barely’?”

He snorted, “Yeah– something like that,” finally, he locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket. “I made sure to text Aemond, too.”

Your mouth felt dry at the mention. “Why?”

“He asked.”

“Asked?”

“He asked me to… make sure you were okay.”

Goosebumps prickled at your skin, the ever familiar feeling of nausea and despair swirling in the pit of your stomach. Nibbling at your lip more, you turned away, feeling a bit too exposed. “And what’d you say?”

“I said you were alive but you are not okay.”

Your lips pursed into a line as you tasted a bit of copper in your mouth from chewing on your lip. “I guess that’s right,” you muttered, “Why would he ask?”

“Aemond is… complicated. you know that better than anyone. I don’t know what kind of bug he has up his ass these last few months but… even through all of this, he still cares.”

“Like hell he does,” you snapped, feeling the sting of tears, “If he did, he would’ve given us a chance to talk it out, to… to try, maybe even go to therapy, I don’t fucking know– he would’ve reached out– anyone should’ve reached out,” your hand went to your hair, right at your hairline at your scalp, picking at the hairs there– another self-destructive habit you’ve picked up in your months of isolation, “I’m so fucking alone, Aegon. He knows… you all know I have absolutely no one else. I’ve been going through this on my own. I have no friends, no family– no brother to go live with when I need space, no family group chat. I don’t have shit, Aegon. All I’ve ever known in my life is him and you and Helaena and Daeron and mom. Why… why does it feel like I was cast off the island without even… a tribal council or something?” you sniffed, the tears coming in full force now.

Aegon was silent, coming up behind you. “I’m… sorry,” he murmured, putting his hands on your shoulders, as frail and skeletal as you were, “We should’ve been better. We… will be better.” he turned you around and pulled you into his chest, enveloping you in his arms. “We thought you would’ve been… fine without him. He made it seem like that– that you were strong enough. I only figured it out yesterday when he was up my ass about texting him as soon as I saw you. He needed to know if you were feeding yourself, if you were keeping up with your medication, if you still had nightmares. A fuckin’... laundry list of questions– I told him to stick his questions up where the sun don’t shine and to see for himself,” he took a breath, “He settled on one question– if you were okay.”

“I think he got his fucking answer, then,” you whispered, “I am not okay. I haven’t been okay in months. I… I need help.”

“I know,” Aegon shifted you slightly to look at your face, “We’ll help you– I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. Look, I’ll even add you to the group chat, okay? I’ll rename it to ‘Aemond Sucks’, how does that sound?”

You cracked a tiny smile, sniffling. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

–

You ended up moving your belongings to your new place the same day, effectively ridding yourself of the constant shadow of Aemond’s memory.

Aegon even took you to Michael’s and HomeGoods to get stuff for your little studio, so you could really make it yours. It was a bit intimidating at first– you weren't used to being able to decorate things the way you wanted, as Aemond always opted to keep things simple and minimalistic.

You, admittedly, went all out. Your new studio looked like a Pinterest board titled ‘cottagecore’. You were incredibly happy with it all, practically jumping up and down at it.

“It looks so good! I love these little mushroom chairs you picked out, Egg,” you hummed, patting some plush felted stools in the shape of mushrooms, which you put near the window. “I bet Helaena would love it.”

“Let’s take some pictures for the group chat, Hel will literally be all over this. you two always love that cottagecore, fairycore, fantasy… shit.” he grinned, stooping down to take some very out of perspective pictures of the mushroom chairs, making them look fifty feet tall.

You settled into your new place quickly, having Helaena, Aegon and Daeron over quite often for drinks and movies. Your health steadily improved until you were mostly back to normal physically– there would be a lot of scars internally, however that would take longer to heal, if you ever would. You had developed a trust issue complex since Aemond’s unceremonious exit from your life and hadn’t gone on any dates, you didn’t know when or if you would ever be ready. They did you the courtesy of not mentioning Aemond, until Daeron said something odd.

It was about four months after you moved in, and almost a full year since you’d last seen Aemond. You were all a few mixed drinks in, Aegon had made them and you were heavy on the alcohol, light on the ‘mix’, and you were all kicked back on the couch, with Aegon laying on the mushroom chairs stacked next to each other, lazed back like a cat.

“Mom says she wants you over for Christmas dinner,” Daeron said, taking a sip of his drink, “She figured it’d be fine with Aemond going off with his new…” he blinked, catching himself.

Helaena nudged Daeron in the ribs as a warning, staring at their friend warily.

“... his new? His new what?” you asked, your voice so quiet that it must’ve been like a squeak.

“... new girlfriend.” he finished.

You were silent for a while before sighing. “I figured it would happen eventually. I can only hope that it… wasn’t too soon after we broke up– or whatever… happened.”

“We all told him it was fucked up that he just left and ghosted you, lovey. Even mom got on his ass about it, and he is her favorite child who usually can do no wrong.” Helaena put her drink down, wrapping her arm around you. “You should come to Christmas dinner, everyone would be super happy to see you! And Aemond won’t be there, so even more reason to come. Please.” she whimpered, using her best puppy-dog face.

You mulled it over in your mind for a few moments. You couldn’t think of anything more painful than being alone during the holidays, so you nodded.

–

It was snowing on Christmas day, the flurries coming down and melting against your skin as you waited for Aegon to pick you up. You were wearing a red checkered tapestry dress with a flannel jacket, a white fluffed scarf wrapped around your neck and lower face. As soon as you saw the familiar color of Aegon’s truck, you practically booked it into the passenger seat.

“Merry Christmas, you look fantastic,” Aegon mused, ever the charmer. “I’ve got the heater on full blast, I promise– but y’know my old boy’s puttering these days. We’ll need to get some speed for it to really warm up.”

“Mmm,” you murmured, your teeth chattering, “S’cold.”

He reached back and grabbed a well-used blanket, draping it over your legs. “Better?”

“... yeah– but,” you blinked, raising a brow. “What do you have this in the truck for?”

Aegon laughed as he began the drive to his family’s estate. “I think you know.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve fucked someone on this blanket, Aegon.”

“Someones– not just someone. But I keep it clean, no worries!”

The drive to the Targaryen estate was about an hour and a half from town, nestled deep into an expansive forest where there weren’t any other homes in at least five miles. It was a gorgeous, Victorian style mansion and according to Daeron, was most certainly haunted. You had been here numerous times, of course, but it’d been a while. As you pulled up in the driveway, you saw Alicent standing outside the door dressed in a gorgeous red and green festive dress, hair curled to perfection. Nothing less was expected of Alicent, though.

“Oh, my darling,” Alicent cooed, holding her arms out to caress who she thought of as her fifth child. “It’s been too long, I’ve missed you.”

Your heart warmed under Alicent’s caress, someone who had become more of a mother figure to you than your actual mother. You sniffed, pressing your forehead into Alicent’s shoulder. “Missed you too, mom.”

“Come on, you both can cry inside in the nice toasty house, yeah? I’m freezing my balls off here, mom.”

Alicent huffed, ushering both of you inside. “Don’t be vulgar, son– it’s Christmas.”

Helaena and Daeron were already there, as well as Otto, who gave you a stiff nod as a greeting, as was his usual means of communication.

You settled into the kitchen, Alicent pouring everyone apple cider and dishing out at least six types of holiday themed cookies. About an hour after arriving, there was a knock on the door.

“Oh, that must be Rhaenyra and Laena. Can you answer the door, darling? I need to take the roast out of the oven. I’m sure they would be happy to see you!”

“Mhm!” you mused through bites of cookies. You loved Rhaenyra and Laena, who were technically married with husbands, as was Alicent, but the three of them were in a secret, not so secret to anyone with eyes, polyamorous relationship. It always amused all of their kids when they tried to hide it.

You turned the doorknob, fully expecting to see Rhaenyra and Laena. It was not.

Aemond.

“Fuck.” you blurted out, eyes wide. It had been the better part of a year since you had last seen him. His hair was longer now, gathered into a low bun at the nape of his neck, his cheeks a bit more gaunt. He still wore his earrings and his rings– including the one you had given him almost a decade ago.

“Shit.” he responded, seemingly caught equally off guard by seeing you again. The pupil of his non-prosthetic eye dilated until the iris was almost consumed in black, before he flexed his hand and reeled himself in.

You couldn’t help but notice he was alone– no ‘new girlfriend’ as Daeron had put it. “Aemond,” you breathed, feeling like you were outside of your own body, your head filled with fluff and static. “Merry… Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” he responded gruffly, “Can I come in?”

“Oh– yeah, duh,” you chastised yourself, stepping aside to let him in. “Sorry.”

“Mm.” he grunted in his usual manner. That seemed to be a habit he hadn’t dropped.

You all but retreated to the kitchen, the expression on your face telling everything. Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around you.

“I didn’t invite him, I swear.” Aegon whispered.

“Well, neither did I!” Daeron professed.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him. He left me on read three weeks ago when I sent him a picture of a bug on my windowsill.” Helaena sniffed.

A new voice chimed in. “I invited him,” Alicent spoke, breaking up the little posse, “I told him to come over or he would be grounded for three months.”

All four of you stared at Alicent, deadpanned.

“Mom– he’s… almost twenty-seven. you can’t ground him,” Daeron said, confused. “And moreover, why? Wasn’t he busy?”

“Well, first off, he is my son, so I wanted to see him for Christmas. Two, I believe we have someone here who has some unresolved issues with him.” Alicent responded, staring right at you pointedly.

“... I don’t know… I… I don’t know if I can talk to him. It’s been too long… I feel like I was just getting over all of this.”

“Well, do I have any say in this?” Aemond barged into the circle, his hands in his pockets.

You suddenly felt overwhelmed, the familiar bubbling of everything being too much rising in your stomach. You were teleported back to months ago when you were barely alive, trapped in your own mind. “I… I need… I need a minute.” you muttered, your voice sounding distorted as you made your way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. Chest heaving, you were already crying, the waterworks starting somewhere between the hallway and the sink.

“You’re always fucking crying, I can’t take it anymore.” Aemond’s voice from months and months ago echoed in your head, causing the tears to flow more. You bit against your lip, tasting blood right away as you willed yourself to stop crying.

“S-stop… stop crying,” you whispered, fingers messing up your hair as you held fistfuls of it. You couldn’t catch your composure for the life of you, sliding against the bathroom wall onto the floor.

Vision blurring, you don’t know how long you were incoherent for. When you came back to yourself, Aemond was in front of you, crouched down.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, the door closed behind him, “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, still numb as he pried your fists from your head, out of your hair, smoothing it down.

“Look at me, can you do that? Nod if you can hear me.”

You nodded slowly, the feeling coming back to your extremities in a sprightly tickling sensation. You blinked tears from your eyes, the liquid smearing your vision.

Aemond rasped a thumb over your eyes, effectively clearing the obstruction from your vision. “Just breathe,” he continued to whisper. It was ever reminiscent of when he would calm you down after a nightmare, voice low and scratchy in a way that comforted you. He was so close now, closer than he’d been in forever. He still smelled the same, the scent triggering a deep aching within your chest. A scent that took you forever to get rid of, but you never truly could. “Can… we talk?” he asked then, his voice sounding more vulnerable than ever.

It felt like whiplash, visions of your previous fights plaguing you, where he had been so closed off, so far away, so distant that you couldn’t reach him– and now, he was here. In the present, in the flesh. In front of you, opened. Not opened completely, but you could see it, like the slit of a cracked door, the light bleeding through. It was there.

“... yeah.”

“I… I’m… I’m sorry. What I did was fucked up. It was fucked up and wrong and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“You’re right about that,” you muttered, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “I didn’t deserve it.”

Aemond’s mouth twitched slightly before he sat down next to you, propping up his legs in a criss-cross. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, before closing it. His hands flexed and unflexed in quick succession– he was clearly thinking very carefully about his next words. “... I’ve… got issues. You know that better than anyone. I don’t know what was going through my head those months that we fought. I can hardly remember it now, it was like… I was in a fog, a haze– I was working myself half to death, I just wanted dad to notice, to fucking… appreciate me,” he put his hands on his head, “I was so… tied up in this illusion that if I made junior associate at the firm so young that he would congratulate me on my achievement and…” Aemond let out a sigh, “And… in the process… I pushed you away.”

You looked at him, feeling your gaze soften ever so slightly. You knew that his father was a sore spot for him and that trauma ran deep. “You didn’t just push me away, Aemond,” you sighed, reaching out a shaky hand to pry one of his from his face. “... if you would’ve just talked to me, I could’ve helped. You didn’t push… you… you shoved, you shoved and ran in the other direction.”

His one violet eye danced towards you. “I know. I’ve been kicking myself for it. When Aegon told me you weren’t doing well… I almost left work to see you.”

“... you did?”

“Yeah. Aegon basically told me not to– that… this was something you needed space for. Kind of like I did but… maybe in a more healthy way.”

“A text wouldn’t have hurt.”

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone– his wallpaper was still the same as it was, a picture of you, him and Vhagar very unhappy in an elf costume. He scrolled to his notes app, which was filled with messages addressed to you. “... I thought it might, after what Aegon had said. I was… ashamed of how I acted, how I handled the whole thing– how I left you alone without a word. He told me how you looked… dead. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Your eyes scanned the messages, picking out some words. The main ones that caught your gaze were ‘sorry’, ‘love’, ‘regret’. A huge breath left your lungs, feeling as if everything had been knocked out of you at once. You felt like you were being whipped back and forth in the wind, trying to grab onto anything. If you both weren’t so stubborn and just messaged one another– well, no. You did message him, one time. “I thought you blocked me.”

“... for five minutes, maybe.”

“God, we’re so fucking stupid, Aemond.”

“You aren’t– don’t say that. I’m literally a dumbass. All of my siblings told me so, even my own mother, and you know she never curses.”

The tiniest of smiles cracked onto your face as you jostled his shoulder. “Yeah… you are a dumbass. I am allowed to say it at least once. So, um,” you shuffled slightly, “Daeron kind of let it slip that you had a new girlfriend?”

Aemond pinched his brow. “Of course he said that. He is twenty-one years old and still doesn’t know how to use his goddamn ears. I said I was seeing a new therapist, not that I had a fucking girlfriend.”

“A therapist?”

“... things got really dark for me after I moved back into our… no, my… place. After you officially moved out. It felt lifeless, all of your things were gone, the fucking warmth sucked out of the place. It felt like it’d been sterilized of anything… good. I feel into something– I don’t know, a depression? I guess, that’s what Aegon called it. He suggested I see a therapist, citing me as ‘an emotionally stunted asshole who needs more therapy than him’.” he exaggerated the last bit with air quotes, rolling his eye.

“... he isn’t wrong. I mean, I love your family, but all of you are all kinds of fucked up. Maybe I am too, practically being a part of it.”

Aemond chuckled, giving a tight lipped smile. “We are fucked up. I realized that… I really do not give a shit what my dad thinks, because nothing will ever be good enough for him. He’s so far gone now that he probably doesn’t even know we exist. I’ve come to terms with that and honestly… it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad you could… work through some of that, Aemond.” you say sincerely, resting your cheek on his arm absentmindedly.

“... I want to talk about us.”

“... us. Okay.”

“I don’t expect you to want to jump right back into things. It would be unfair to think that– but… maybe we could try?”

Your chest feels a bit tight at his admission– he wanted to try. Every fiber in your being wanted to say yes and jump back into it like you’d never left. But you knew you couldn’t. There were still parts of you scarred by this whole experience, some parts that may never heal. It would take a long time and a lot of talks like this to even get some semblance of what the both of you had. “Well… before we were together, believe it or not, we were friends. Could we… try that for right now?”

His chest visibly deflated a bit, but he nodded. “Whatever you need, okay?”

–

The days following Christmas, leading up to New Year’s were… different. You and Aemond were back in contact, going out for coffee and lunch a few times.

On the day before New Year’s eve, you texted him.

Turns out, timing the movie to sync with 12 am on New Year’s day to Toby Maguire saying ‘Pizza time’ was difficult. Well, it wasn’t difficult for normal people– but you and Aemond were a bit tipsy, as Aegon had left some hard apple ciders in your fridge, to which you both indulged.

“Okay, okay,” Aemond stared at his phone, “5… 4… 2… wait, no, fuck, 3… 2… I think we fucked it up– just go, go!”

Quickly, you started the movie. “Maybe we should’ve practiced– can we start over?” you plopped on the couch, sinking into the sofa and taking a swig of the cider.

“Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. Can’t turn back time.” he mused softly, squatting down on one of the mushroom stools. “Pretty comfy.”

“Aegon picked those out, nifty, huh?”

“Nifty.” he parroted.

The movie continued on, but as it went on, there was an unspoken tension growing. Aemond hadn’t sat on the couch, but rather, the stools that were on the other side of the room. It felt like a chasm had formed, the strain almost palpable.

You chewed on your lip anxiously, contemplating whether or not to say anything. But, you had both been trying a new technique called ‘communication’ – a pretty cool and helpful thing that Aemond’s therapist had taught him. You remember laughing when he posed it that same way– but it was extremely important. You cleared your throat. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

“... um. I wanted to try the mushroom seats, I guess.”

“You don’t want to sit next to me?” you countered, feeling especially brave.

“Is that… alright?”

“Um, duh. I invited you over for pizza and a movie so we could… sit together. Not for you to be half a mile away sitting on a mushroom.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” he murmured, sitting up from the mushroom stool and making his way over to you, sliding onto the couch, still a few feet away from you.

You weren’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the pent up emotions, the small buzz of alcohol, or a destructive cocktail of all three, but you inched closer to him. Closer, closer… until your thighs were touching. You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he responded, his voice low and warm. It caused a balmy and comforting vibration to go through you, reverberating in your chest.

You became all too aware of your movements, your closeness to him, the skin of your thigh grazing against his jeans as you got as close as you could. Your lips parted slightly as he stared back down at you. “Can… we?”

“Can we, what?” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your loose hair, gently grasping it at the nape of your neck. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“... kiss. A little bit.”

“Just a little bit?”

“Mhm. A teeny bit.” you leaned up, Aemond meeting you halfway as your lips came together. The culmination of your year apart, all of the emotions, the sadness, the frustration and anger, the passion, love, tears– all of it came together at this moment as the two of you melded together perfectly, as if you’d never left. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, followed by what could only be articulated as a moan.

It caught both of you off guard, Aemond pulling away for a moment, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Fucking hell,” he breathed against your skin, sending goosebumps tingling from your tailbone up to the nape of your neck, the hairs on your body standing on end. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you responded before latching onto him once more. It started off loving and slow, your lips moving against one another like two old lovers dancing together– then it began to heat up, your mouth parting to accommodate his tongue, gnashing against yours as their dance turned up a notch. Your hands roamed his body, everything you committed to memory for so many years still in its same spot. It felt good, it felt like home. “Please, Aemond– I… I need you. It’s been so long… too long…”

“Too long since I’ve had you, had this,” his hand reached down, cupping your mound still hidden beneath your panties. Somehow, you foresaw this moment before it happened and thankfully wore a light dress. “Let me in, love.”

You parted your legs, feeling the ever familiar crook of his fingers slide down the front of your panties, testing the waters. The pad of his thumb and middle finger locked on instantly to your clit, swirling the sensitive bud, sending electric shocks through your extremities. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, pressing your forehead against his. “Need you inside, now.” you all but growled as you peppered little kisses along the soft flesh of his neck.

He wouldn’t keep you waiting long, as it seemed he needed this as much as you did. He parted your panties to the side, propping you on top of him and sliding you down his length, earning a hissed gasp from both of you. It took all of his strength not to burst in you right then, as you enveloped him in your tight, wet heat. “You were made for me,” he breathed, biting down on your shoulder, leaving red marks. One of his favorite things to do was to mark you, leaving hickies in his wake as he worshiped every inch of exposed skin he could reach. “Melded so perfectly, just for me.” he grabbed the flesh of your bottom, squeezing gently at first, then landing a smack on it as he began to thrust up into you.

You nodded fervently, hiccuping little moans as you dug your face into his shoulder, biting him in turn. Your nails sunk into his skin, indenting against his spine as they always had, as they always were meant to. It felt much like a pianist resting their fingers on the ivories after a long break, the pads of your fingers sinking into the ridges of his very being. You were meant to be here, he was meant to be here. You could feel your end coming on all too soon, his cock filling every nook and cranny of you, bullying that spongy, delicate sweet spot just right. You began to clench, your tell-tale sign to him that you were close.

“I love you,” he whispered, panting slightly, using one hand to push your face back so you could meet his gaze. His wild, pupil-blown out gaze, cheeks reddened, mouth parted, brow furrowed. “I love you, I fucking love you. I missed you– fuck.”

“I l-love you,” you responded before he parted your lips with his thumb, “Love you so much– p-please, s’close.” you whined into his mouth.

“Let go, sweetheart, c’mon,” he grinned against your lips, nipping and biting at them. “Come for me.”

That was all you needed, the twine of your climax coming undone right in your core, snapping like a taut thread. Your usual habit was to hide your face in his shoulder when you came, whimpering and panting– but he didn’t let you this time. He held your face, staring at you intently as if you were a piece of fine art on display, and he was a connoisseur.

You clenched around him tightly, spurring him to his own end. His hard wrought fingers gripped your ass like it was a lifeline, grunting as he found his release deep within you, where it was always meant to be.

Coming down from your high, you slumped against his chest, mouth parted. Embarrassingly enough, a little drool wetted your lips. You were fully and thoroughly fucked out, not even registering that Tobey Maguire said “Pizza time!”

“Happy New Year, love,” Aemond murmured against your hair, nestling you tightly against him. He didn’t pull out– he preferred it this way, having you warm him through until you both fell asleep.

“... Happy New Year,” you whispered back.

–

Two and a half months later, it was Valentine's day. You and Aemond were officially dating again as of January 2nd, much to the surprise of no one.

You both took things as slow as you could, keeping separate apartments for the time being– but you’d given him a key to your place about two weeks in, and he was there all the time, taking much needed leave from work.

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you walked in, seeing Aemond lounging on the couch with a scruffy brown furball on him.

“Oh, Vhagar! You brought my baby,” you mused, dropping your items (with some grace, so as not to scare the geriatric cat), walking over, “Oh, I hope she remembers me.” you frowned, kneeling down and offering your hand to her.

“Of course she’ll remember, she yelled at me for a good three months at Aegon’s when we were without you.”

Vhagar sniffed your hand for a good minute before blinking her sleepy, lazy eyes at you, then promptly rubbing her scraggly cheek fur on your hand. You were elated, scratching her cheeks, hearing the tinkling of a little bell.

“A new collar?”

“Mhm, take a look.”

You swirled the collar around, looking for the name tag– only to find… a ring. An opal and moonstone ring. Your heart stopped in your chest as you stared at Aemond.

“I would get down on one knee– I was intending on you coming home and Vhagar running to you and then you finding it… but she’s on me, and I can’t get up. Cat rules,” he mused, unclipping the collar from her neck and slipping the ring onto your finger. “I know we’ve only been dating for… a month and a half, so stop me if it’s too soon.” he grinned, his toothy smile.

Vhagar gave a croaking meow, promptly jumping off of Aemond’s lap. As soon as the old cat was off, you threw yourself at Aemond, blubbering. “This… this…” you sniffed, unable to form words.

“Just so there isn’t any confusion… will you marry me?” he asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Yes, yes– I will,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest and sobbing.

He let you sob on him, getting his shirt all snotty and wet, all while smiling.

After crying for at least ten minutes, you manage to take a picture, sending it to the group chat, with the caption: “I think we should add him to the chat now, guys.”

Ding.

“Is this group chat named ‘Aemond sucks’?”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond smut #modern aemond smut #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #aemond angst #my writing

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insomniac4000 · 4 months ago

Text

Light in the Dark-ChrisMD

Chris's usually confident big achiever girlfriend starts to spiral down. Chris is there.

Depression symptoms throughout- this is a little self indulgent as my head space is not good right now.

Y/N had built her life on movement. Planes, trains, boats—if it could take her somewhere new, she’d been on it. She was the girl who trekked through the Amazon on her gap year, bungee-jumped off bridges in New Zealand, and hiked through Patagonia, camera in hand, breathless with laughter. Even her work was related to travel, she started off as cabin crew before spending a year in China teaching English as a second language. Soon the age of twenty five came and while she was still young there was a part of her that yearned to have a base so she was off to London but still, as a sales representative for a big international company she still got to do what she loved. Those who knew her always called her strong, life was filled with exciting moments and adventure, she loved a challenge, and she was a joy. Everyone however had their secrets.

But now, she sat on her couch, staring at the blank screen in front of her.

Her laptop screen dimmed from inactivity, and she made no move to wake it. The words wouldn’t come. The ideas that used to flow so effortlessly had dried up, leaving her empty. The presentation usually came quickly, formatting was a breeze, never boring she always lived her breathed the topics she spoke about now there was only pure emptiness. She should have responded to her emails, planned her next meeting, wrote something, anything. Instead, her phone sat face-down on the table, vibrating occasionally with messages she couldn’t bring herself to read no one was meant to see her like this.

She closed her eyes and exhaled. The air felt heavy, like breathing in water.

Y/N stood on the rooftop of a hotel in Tokyo, wind whipping her auburn curls around her face. She grinned into the camera, holding it at arm’s length.

“So they want to open the account immediately, I’ve already drafted the initial paperwork but I will send it over to you to check?” Y/N said to her boss, it was only a month ago, this account was huge and she was so excited to get it.

“What would I do without you?”

Well right now he was going to have to try as, she couldn’t even imagine even opening her mouth to speak.

Y/N pushed back the meeting schedule. Just a week, she told herself. She needed more time to get the details right.

Then another week. Then another.

Her friends noticed first, well actually it was Chris’s friends, which seemed to cement her idea that her friends didn’t care. They did, they just assumed she was away again.

“You okay,?” George asked over voice chat. “Haven’t seen you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, just busy,” she replied, forcing her voice to sound light.

Will chimed in. “You ghosting us, or what?”

She laughed. “Of course not. Just catching up on work.”

Lies. The presentation still sat untouched. The pressure built in her chest like a weight pressing down, harder and harder, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t write. Couldn’t sell. Couldn’t be the person they all expected.

She was failing.

She stopped replying to messages. Stopped picking up FaceTime calls.

Even Chris, who she talked to nearly every day, got nothing but short replies.

Chris: Are you free for lunch? Y/N: Busy. Chris: Everything okay? Y/N: Fine.

She wasn’t fine. But what was she supposed to say? That she felt like a fraud? That every achievement, every milestone, every person she signed up to the company, none of it felt real anymore?

That she wasn’t sure if she even deserved any of it?

So she stopped talking.

Chris showed up at her door.

She didn’t answer at first. Just stared at the screen as his name flashed under the doorbell camera. He knocked again, then texted: I know you’re in there.

She should have ignored it. Should have let him walk away.

Instead, she opened the door.

Chris frowned the moment he saw her. “Y/N.”

She knew what he was seeing. The unwashed hoodie she’d been living in. The dark circles under her eyes. The exhaustion etched into her face.

“Are you sick?” he asked.

“No.”

“Have you eaten today?”

She hesitated. His expression softened. “Can I come in?”

She didn’t answer, just stepped aside.

Chris entered without another word, moving to the kitchen like he belonged there. He opened the fridge, frowned at its near-empty shelves, then started making tea.

Y/N sat at the table, staring at the grain of the wood.

Finally, Chris placed a mug in front of her and sat across from her. He didn’t ask anything. Didn’t push. Just sat there.

She should have said something. Maybe thanked him. Maybe lied and said she was okay.

Instead, she wrapped her hands around the mug and whispered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Chris didn’t react right away. He let the words settle, like he knew how hard they were to say.

Then he spoke, quiet and steady. “Nothing’s wrong with you, my darling.”

She huffed a humourless laugh. “Doesn’t feel that way.”

Chris leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You know I am here for you.”

Y/N didn’t get better overnight.

She still struggled to open her laptop. Still flinched when a message came through. Some days, getting out of bed felt impossible.

But Chris stayed.

He didn’t push her to work. Didn’t tell her to "snap out of it" or "just be positive." Instead, he showed up.

He brought her food when she forgot to eat. Watched movies with her in comfortable silence. Walked with her when the walls of her flat felt too small.

When she broke down one night, confessing that she felt like she was failing everyone, her audience, her clients, most of all him he just held her, murmuring, “You’re not failing anyone. You’re allowed to feel this way.”

She still didn’t believe it. Not entirely. But for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel completely alone.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now. But that small glimmer of hope faded, she dropped and she couldn’t feel herself slipping. All Chris knew was that he had the next ready to catch her.

Y/N didn’t remember the exact moment when the sadness became unbearable.

It wasn’t one big event. It was everything the exhaustion, the pressure, the relentless voice in her head telling her she was a failure. It built and built until one night, it broke her.

She was sitting on the floor of her bedroom, knees drawn to her chest, her hands gripping her own arms so tightly they ached. The room was dark except for the glow of her phone screen, which was filled with missed messages. Her breathing was uneven, her chest tight.

Then, without warning, she started to cry.

Not quiet tears. Not the kind of crying that could be wiped away and ignored. This was the kind that stole her breath, made her body shake, made her feel like she was drowning.

Chris found her like that.

She barely registered the sound of her front door opening. He had a key now; she wasn’t even sure when she’d given it to him, but he used it without hesitation.

She flinched when he crouched in front of her, his voice low and gentle. “Y/N.”

She shook her head, gripping her arms tighter. “I can’t—Chris, I can’t—”

Her throat burned, her words coming out in sobs. Chris didn’t say anything else. He just sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him.

She let herself fall into him, burying her face against his chest. His hoodie smelled like rain and something warm, something safe.

“I’m here,” he murmured.

She didn’t know how long they sat there. Time didn’t make sense anymore. Nothing made sense anymore.

The next wave wasn’t sadness, it was anger.

Y/N had always prided herself on her independence. She was the one who figured things out, who got things done. Now, she could barely respond to an email, let alone film a video.

One morning, Chris came over to find her sitting on the couch, staring at her laptop with an untouched cup of tea beside her.

“Any luck?” he asked, careful.

Y/N’s jaw tightened. “No.”

Chris hesitated. “Want to take a break? Go for a walk?”

Something inside her snapped.

“A walk isn’t going to fix this, Chris!” she snapped, slamming the laptop shut. “Nothing is going to fix this!”

Chris didn’t flinch. He didn’t leave. He just watched her, his expression unreadable.

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m not trying to fix it.”

His calmness made her even angrier.

“Then what are you doing here?” she demanded. “You’re wasting your time! I’m useless right now. I can’t do anything. I don’t even know why I—”

Her voice cracked. The rage crumbled beneath the weight of exhaustion, of frustration, of shame.

Chris exhaled and sat on the couch beside her, close but not touching.

“You’re not useless,” he said. “You’re struggling. That’s not the same thing.”

She looked away. “It feels the same.”

Chris didn’t argue. He just reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers.

She wanted to pull away. But she didn’t.

Some days, Y/N felt nothing.

No sadness, no anger, just an empty, hollow void. She’d wake up, stare at the ceiling for an hour, then drag herself to the couch and stay there.

Chris noticed.

One evening, he sat beside her, stretching out his legs. “Wanna watch something?”

She shrugged.

He put on a random episode of The Inbetweeners. It played. She barely watched.

But he stayed.

Another day, he brought her favourite food. She picked at it but barely ate.

He didn’t push.

She didn’t understand how he had the patience. Anyone else would have given up by now.

But not Chris. He knew what it was like, he knew what it felt like to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, it happened to him so much his brain wouldn’t switch off either, his brain constantly told him something bad was going to happen to him. He knew what had helped him but he also knew his love wasn’t in the position to hear it right now, the last thing he wanted to do was to push her away so he waited for the right moment, however long it was going to take.

One night, as they lay in silence, she whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”

Chris turned his head, looking at her in the dim light. “Do what?”

“Sit here. Deal with this.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re not something to be ‘dealt with,’ Y/N.”

She exhaled sharply, looking away. “I’m not exactly fun to be around right now.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then, in a voice so soft it almost broke her:

“I don’t care about fun. I care about you.”

Her throat tightened.

She wanted to believe him.

The change didn’t come all at once. There was no defining moment where she suddenly felt okay. It was gradual. Painfully slow.

It started with one morning where she got out of bed before noon.

Then a day where she managed to shower without feeling like it took all of her energy.

Then a moment where she caught herself smiling really smiling at something Chris said.

She still had bad days. Days where the weight in her chest returned, where she felt like she was slipping back down. But they weren’t every day anymore.

Chris noticed before she did.

“You’ve been humming,” he pointed out one afternoon.

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“You used to hum when you were working. You haven’t done it in weeks.”

She hadn’t realized.

Chris nudged her foot with his. “Feels like a good sign.”

Maybe it was.

One night, she sat with Chris in the kitchen, their tea mugs between them. She hesitated, then said, “I think I want to start working again. Just a couple of hours a day maybe, catch up on some lost paperwork.”

Chris didn’t react with excitement. He just nodded, as if he’d known this moment would come. “Do you want me to sit with you while you do?”

She swallowed. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Chris smiled, squeezing her hand. “Alright.”

For the first time in months, she felt a flicker of something.

Not joy, not yet.

But something close.

Hope.

#chrismd #chris dixon #chrismd x reader #chrismd imagine

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ashwhowrites · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! So i’ve been nonstop listening to strawberries & cigarettes by the lovely Troye Sivan, and I had an idea for like a one shot or a two parter if you think it could be!

So my idea, bare with me for a minute 😂.

Maybe like a popstar fem reader x rockstar!eddie, maybe had a fling or were dating and eddie calls it off abruptly and she writes strawberries & cigarettes and performs it and maybe he is in the crowd or finds out though social media (im thinkin kinda modern but if that doesn’t fit with an idea you have whateves!) and like he regrets it or something along those lines.

maybe angsty.. happy ending? the interpretation is up to you! i just really think that song fits popstar x rockstar eddie for whatever reason! i would love to see it.

Thank you!!!!! happy writing ;)!

Posting my drafts! Hopefully you find this❤️

Strawberries & cigarettes

Y/N knew that with her fame, love was going to be messy and public. She knew it wouldn't be easy to hide away from the perving eyes that followed everywhere she went. Thrown into the famous world and meet people in her same position, it was only a matter of time until she found comfort in someone.

His name was Eddie Munson, a rockstar that many people knew. They were in different music genres, yet they were a perfect match. They were electric and their love was filled with fiery flames. It was hot, it was fast, and then it all stopped. She felt like she was running for her life, chasing after him. But the second she reached to touch him, he vanished.

Remember when we first met? You said "light my cigarette" So I lied to my mom and dad I jumped the fence and I ran But we couldn't go very far 'Cause you locked your keys in your car So you sat and stared at my lips And I could already feel your kiss

The party was loud and Y/N needed a moment of peace. She snuck out the back, hoping no one was watching her sneak out. She breathed a sigh of relief when she met the cold air. She could hear the party inside and the music vibrating off the walls.

"Needed to escape too?"

She jumped as she heard a voice, unaware she had a guest, or became a guest. She turned and took in the dark figure that hid in the shadows.

"You got a lighter?" He asked, moving into the light. She tried to hide her shock once she recognized who it was. She dug in her pocket and pulled out her lighter, nervously flicking it until a spark came to life. He held the cigarette between his lips, leaning down until his cigarette met the flame. She watched in awe as he inhaled the smoke and backed up.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" His raspy and deep voice made her shiver in the cold night.

"Y/N" she smiled. Eddie nodded at her name, like he recognized it.

"Ah! The popstar right? With the cute short skirt and boots," he sent her a wink and she could already feel herself being a puddle at his feet. It was her signature look, half the time she didn't care about the attention she got from it but knowing it caught his eye made it worth it.

They ended up talking that whole night, outside hiding from the party. He was a bit older, in the industry much longer, but there was a connection neither could deny. She didn't think the age difference was anything to worry about, but she was wrong. She was young and in love, so easily manipulated by a man flaunting at her feet.

At first she didn't see the red flags. She loved the sneaking around and meeting in hotel rooms. She loved the feeling of being in love.

Long nights, daydreams Sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

"Then you make an "O" with your lips," Eddie instructed. Y/N listened to his words, watching as he inhaled the smoke and blew out small smoke rings.

He smiled as he did it perfectly, he went to help her do it next but she crashed her lips on his. He moaned and happily kissed her back. She could taste the smoke, the flavor making her crave him more.

He pulled back, licking his lips as she took the cigarette and inhaled the smoke. His hands held her hips as she sat on his lap. She passed him the cigarette, and reached for a strawberry on the nightstand. She stared into his eyes as she seductively bit into the strawberry. She moaned at the sweetness, the juice coating her lips and dripping down her chin.

Eddie leaned in, catching the strawberry juice that worked down her neck with his tongue, licking all the way up until his tongue met her mouth.

Y/N snapped out of her memory when she felt her eyes getting wet. She sniffled and put down her pen. She thought writing out what she felt would heal her, but all she felt was her heart breaking even more.

She looked at her phone, itching to call him but she knew it wouldn't do any good. Then her eyes looked at the pack of cigarettes in her purse. She knew it was a bad idea, but she reached forward and grabbed it anyway.

She wouldn't admit it to anyone but she missed Eddie more than words. He didn't want her, and he never did. He wasn't in love, it was all lust. She was the idiot that fell in love. Her hands shook as she lit the cigarette, the second she tasted the tobacco on her tongue she felt like she was tasting him.

She closed her eyes, picturing his soft lips against hers as she puffed on the stick. It was like she was there with him again, tasting him.

Remember when you taught me fate Said it'd all be worth the wait Like that night in the back of the cab When your fingers walked in my hand Next day, nothin' on my phone But I can still smell you on my clothes Always hoping things would change But we went right back to your games

She sighed in comfort as Eddie's fingers trailed across her naked back. Her body tucked against his as the hotel sheets covered their bodies.

"Do you think we'll ever leave the hotels behind?" She asked out loud. Something she's been dying to ask but afraid of the answer. She felt something real for him and she didn't want to scare him away. But she needed more.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" He asked, shifting so he could look down at her face. She looked up at him, soaking in his warm brown eyes.

"I'm starting to fall in love with you. But I don't want to continue if this is all we'll ever be," she confessed. The heaviness to her words hung in the air as Eddie thought of what to say.

In the moment she believed him. She believed the kiss that landed on her lips was passionate and real. And she believed his words when he whispered: "We'll be so much more than this."

Then the next morning he was gone and the bed was cold. Nothing left behind, not a note or a text. He vanished and she wished she realized sooner that it wouldn't stop.

She blinked away her tears as she wrote the lyrics. In a way it was healing her but hurting her too. There was so much hope she held for their relationship. She was an idiot in love so she went back to his games. She chased after him, not caring she was giving him exactly what he wanted.

It all blew up when he showed up at her place. She was shocked to see him there, but he had this distant look on his face. His body was cold as he walked past her and into her home. It didn't take long for her to end up under him as their bodies moved against each other.

She'll never forget the pain in her chest when he dressed himself in a hurry, the words slipping out of his mouth.

"I think we should break this off," Eddie said as he zipped up his jeans. Y/N stared at him in shock, wondering how it was possible to say those words without any emotion behind it.

"What? Why?"

"I'm not cut out for this relationship shit. You want to be public and official and I just...it's not me."

Y/N stopped writing when the pencil led snapped, unaware of how harsh she began writing. She could feel the same feeling of anger filling her. She wanted to laugh at his excuse. He was older than her and yet he wasn't ready for a relationship? Pathetic.

And even if I run away Give my heart a holiday Still strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you You always leave me wanting more I can't shake my hunger for Strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you Yeah, they always taste like you You Long nights, daydreams With that sugar and smoke rings Always taste like you

Y/N finished the song and added it to her setlist for her new tour. She figured new cities and constant travel could give her heart a break. Tickets were sold and seats were filled, she could hear people chanting her name.

Music was her way to heal and she was about to give the performance of her life. She performed all the sappy love songs she wrote during their relationship, the crowd singing along. She wondered if they ever found out who the inspiration was for all those songs. Eddie kept their relationship hidden but she released their secrets through music.

"This last one is a brand new song. I went through a pretty rough breakup a few months ago and this is the product of it. I hope you like it,"

Eddie was scrolling on his phone, a random naked girl in his bed as she slept the night away. He hadn't slept in months, wide awake every night as he thought of her.

Eddie caught up on all the recent celebrity drama that filled his timeline, but he felt himself freezing when a video of Y/N appeared.

He debated clicking on it. He stared at the frozen picture, taunting him to click play and see her again. The small photo was enough to make his heart race. He looked down at the stranger next to him, confirming she was asleep. He clicked play and turned up his volume lightly, the sound of her voice filled the silence in his hotel room.

"Remember when we first met? You said "light my cigarette"

The first words she sang had Eddie sitting up straight. He was used to songs being written about him. Most of her songs became about him during their relationship. But the sound of her voice cracking caught him off guard.

He should've clicked off the video but he was in awe of seeing her again. She looked gorgeous, with boots and a skirt. It was a skirt he had in his hotel room many times before, he didn't know he could miss an article of clothing but he did.

As the song continued, the more Eddie felt sick. She sang with such hurt and anger. The video ended and he couldn't help but look at the replies. He was curious if anyone knew who the song was about, as she was respectful enough to not mention him.

One reply cracked the code, a paparazzi photo of Eddie smoking that cigarette as Y/N held the lighter in her hands. The comments began to flood as people freaked out over the new information. It didn't take long for his phone to begin filling up with notifications.

He slammed his phone down and crawled out of bed. He slipped on his boxers, and walked to his jeans as he fished out a cigarette. He walked out to the balcony, lighting the small stick and inhaling the smoke immediately.

He rolled his eyes as he noticed paparazzi down below. The song was quick to fill his head, the lyrics repeating over and over as he easily could remember each memory that connected.

Truthfully he already missed her. He missed her the second he broke it off. He was scared but he wished he ignored the fear. Hell he wished he allowed himself to stay with her. It was clear she felt something for him still and he couldn't help but have an itch to see her again.

He continued to smoke his cigarette as he thought about her. Would it be too late to beg for her back? He finished his stick and threw it to the ground. He raced back into his hotel room and grabbed his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found her name. He debated in his head for a few minutes, notifications still rolling through.

He bit his lip as he began to type, his thumbs clicking the letters and hitting send.

"I still taste you too"

He held his breath as the message went through. He was surprised to see the message was read fairly quickly. He held his breath as the tiny bubbles popped up on his phone, she was typing something.

He waited for what felt like hours

....

.....

The tiny bubbles disappeared and his message was left on read.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #ashwhowrites #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #rockstar eddie munson angst #rockstar! eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson x popstar reader

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futurewriter2000 · 6 months ago

Text

Dares and Shrooms

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I finalyl found the time to actually finish it. I really like it becaus it's just so cutee. Hope you like it <3

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x reader

REQUEST (wattpad) @_SlytherinsLoser_: Can you please write a fred x reader, where Y/N wants attention, but fred doesnt give it to her and then Y/N does something to get Freds attention (use your fantasy here, i am very stupid and not creative)?

Mother said flutter your eyelashes, give him a soft smile, fawn over him and make him believe that you were the only girl in the room.

Mother knows you best... sometimes... and sometimes, she forgets that you are not her.

Your eyes were following his figure over the tents, his laughter was very much loud and identical not only to his twin brother but all of his siblings. You have probably walked the same path, passing his family's tent, about a dozen of times and not once has he looked your way.

You remember him and since the moment you do, he has been the very much, the one. Or something. You turn romantic when it comes to love. Suddenly, you feel pain and love, you think of every possible scenario with this boy, from the moment he kisses you at your wedding to the moment you rock on chairs until the very old age. You've remembered his eyes, his hair, his every freckle that painted his pale skin but at last, you had not once made such a move on this boy.

You've been staying with your cousin and his friend, Cedric but Cedric as charming as he was, he just wasn't Fred Weasley. He was funny but he wasn't hilarious and to be honest, the two of you never connected. Besides that, Cedric pretty much gave you the same attention as Fred did- none. He was mostly with his father and your cousin. You and your cousin were just quite close and he was always quite protective of you, like a big brother. Growing up and sharing your whole life together was what made the bond so much tighter. Besides that your cousin was a half-blood and you were muggle-born, which your family never understood and spend most of their time away from you. You've been pretty much excluded from your family, so your cousin was the closest thing you had to having a family. Cedric's father always wanted a daughter, so he treated you exactly like one from the moment you met him.

"Tea, dear?" he said as he already brought a cup in his hand for you.

You smiled widely, feeling your heart flutter from warmth. "Yes, thank you."

He sat beside you. "The boys are out there playing hooligans, so I thought you and I might spend some time playing chess?" he said as he pulled out a checkboard.

"I only know how to play the Muggle version." you said as you sunk into the sofa.

"No worries, I know how to play that too." he winked and started to place down the pieces. "White or black- pick your poison."

"White." you put down your cup of tea and sat up straight.

As he placed the pieces down, a silence followed and you more times or so, you would feel uncomfortable in it but with him, it was only comfort and safety. You envied Cedric for having the father figure you had always wanted. "You know my wife was Muggle-born as well and to be quite frank with you, I was kind of an idiot to her about it at first." he said as the two of you moved your pieces. "The more I got to know her, the more I realised she was shy and insecure about her magic because it was a whole different world to her than the one she was used to as she grew up." he said and looked up to you.

"It's not easy, no." you replied, giving him a shy smile.

"She thought me this game because she didn't know how to play our version as well." he smiled. "And in my opinion, I find it less vulgar and quite stimulating for the mind." he continued, taking a pause as he calculated his next move. "At first she always beat me at this game, there was this confidence shining through it when she did. So I always let her win, so I wouldn't take away the one thing she knew more to do than me." he continued .

"But you're not letting me win, are you?" you eyed him.

"Well, you're not my wife- not near it. You've got more fiercness in you-"

His sentence was cut short when a tumble had reached the entry of your tent. Both of you shot your head and in the blink of an eye, Amos was standing in front of you with his wand out towards the intruders.

Twin boys scrambled on their feet and looked around. "Well, George, this surely isn't our accomodation." he grinned and the other laughed.

Amos sighed and put his wand away, laughing. "You boys surely know how to make an entrence."

"Apologies, mr. Diggory. We weren't watching where we were going." said George and started to back away. They both saw you sitting there and you didn't know whose eyes lingered longer on you but only George seemed to wave his hand as he backed away. "Hi, (y/n)." and they were out the door.

So this was only one out of many examples of how brief your interactions were with those boys. Pure nothingness from the boy you were falling in love with.

And so the chess game continued.

---

The night was peaceful. You could hear the crickets and the wind as you fell asleep but it wasn't until somebody in your dreams started to scream your name.

"WAKE UP (Y/n)!" you opened your eyes wildely as you hazed out of your dreams. Cedric's eyes were worriedly looking at you and you couldn't place the time and space for the life of you. "Put your shoes on- we have to run."

You didn't even think when he took you by the hand and dragged you out. "What's happening?"

"We're being attacked. " he said as he continued to rush through the crowd.

"Mark-"

"He's with my dad- I just ran to get you when the attack started. We said we'd meet at the Portkey. Or that's what I think he would want me to."

"What?"

"Just follow me."

It was cold and you could barely wake up your legs to run but Cedric was pulling you so hard behind his fast pace that your legs draged and flew behind him. He was squeezing your hand so tightly it started to hurt but you felt safe knowing you couldn't lose him due to it. He was not about to let go and you were sure of that.

The two of you came up the hill near the woods and the whole Weasley family was there already, their friends, your cousin and Amos. You looked around and you saw Fred's eyes glimpse at your holding hand with Cedric's but you couldn't let it go from the grip he held. To be honest, you didn't want to since your heart was pumping with fear and adrenaline. It wasn't until Mark came into your embrace and almost knocked you down . "Oh thank God, you're okay!" he checked you from head to toe. "I wanted to get you but the crowd seperated us and I already saw Cedric running towards the tent- Amost was pulling me away, said to trust him."

"What's happening?" you said, completely dazed and confused. It was as if everything happened in one milisecond and you couldn't place the surroundings at all. Your hand though was aching from the grip and you continued to shake it.

Cedric seemed to notice and gently took a hold of it. "Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly.

"No." you laughed. "But that's one hell of a grip you've got there. Surely wasn't gonna fly away."

He laughed and brushed your hand with the palm of his, soothing it and causing odd feeling appear in your stomach.

Your cheeks flushed when all of you touched the Portkey and just before the transportation, you saw Fred's eyes, looking at you intensly.

---

School started off soon after and you haven't been much active in it since it did. The drive that starts at the beginning of every school year, ran away just as fast. You promised, you'll do homework every day from the moment you get assigned... but... well... it was your cousins fault actually. He kept driving you on those little adventures.

This night you decided to go to the Forbidden Forrest... on a dare of course and you were never the one to back out of it. You were content with anything really- except the giant spiders. That was where you knew you'd probably die an excrutiating death.

You stood there, Cedric and Mark both behind you. They smiled, you waved confidently back but when you faced the darkness, your confidence died- your whole soul died.

You brushed off the fear and just started walking further and further into the forest. The dare was to bring back something to make sure you were deep into it- that you didn't cling to the coast of it.

"Okay..." you whispered to yourself as you saw there was nothing but quiet. With every step, you grew more courageous and soon you actually started to look for something that you would bring back.

And there it was... an actual glowing mushroom. Your face lit up. You knew of mushrooms but there was actually a rainbow-glowing one!- A BUNCH!

You giggled to yourself and knelt down. You couldn't stop smiling but at the same time, you couldn't tear it away. You felt awfully sorry for the little glowing thing... but you had to take something, so just so you were about to touch it-

"NO DON'T!" somebody screamed behing you and you screamed back.

"AHHHHH!!!!"

"AHHHHHHH!" they screamed back and you fell back, crawling backward away from them and looking widely. Your wand was already pointing at them and just before you could shoot, they screamed back. "No, no, no, IT'S ME, (y/N)?!" you saw the dark figure lift their arms up.

He approached you and you saw "Weasley?" and laid on your back, exhaling. "Bloody hell- you almost killed me." you closed your eyes and heard a chuckle.

"No- that thing would kill you if you fucking touched it."

You raised your head and squinted your eyes at him. "What are you doing here?"

"What are YOU doing here?" he replied.

"I asked first." you squinted suspiciously at him again and took his hand as he offered you one to help you back on your feet. And just as you felt his hand on yours, you knew who it was- exactly who it was. "So, it's Fred." you said confidently and with a gentle smile.

He smiled grinned and looked away for a while. Maybe if there was some light in the dark forrest, you would say he was impressed. "Yeah- how'd you know?"

"Easy guess." you shrugged, brushing off the thoughts in your mind. "George isn't stupid enough to be here and scream at me."

He laughed. "Touche." he replied and the two of you spent a minute in silence, just looking and smiling at each other.

"So, what are you doing here?" you asked but just as he was about to lie, you pointed your wand at him. "And don't lie because I can feel the lies brew in that head of yours."

He kept looking at you. "Let's head out and I'll tell you along the way." he said and you nodded.

A few moments after the start, he kept clearing his throat and you felt your stomach knot in little pieces. "So?"

"So..." he started. "I kind of stalked you here..." he said and you laughed, not believing him.

"Yeah, right."

"I did." he said. "I heard about the dare and I thought you wouldn't be stupid enough to actually go through it." he eyed you, grinning. "But you were." he continued and put his hands into his pockets. "I thought that those other two idiot would follow you to make sure you were alright but they just stood there and waited."

"It's- it's just a stupid dare." you said without knowing what else to say.

"You're foolish- stupid to think this Forrest isn't dangerous." he turned to you, his hands on your shoulders now.

"You're here."

"Yeah, because I needed to know you were safe-"

"You're acting like you care." you put out your lower lip but he didn't smile.

"It's not funny- it's simply idiotic." he said, looking seriously in your eyes. "And if you touched that stupid glowing mushroom- you'd be spending most of your days in the hospital wing and I wouldn't be really fond of that."

You stood in the silence for a while- surprised he even payed so much attention to you- any really. "I'm sorry." was all that you said.

"Let's just go back." he took a hold of your hand and pulled you with him but as soon as he realised, he quickly let go. "I'm sorry- I didn't mean."

"It's fine." you smiled and took his hand into yours again.

He stopped again and turned to you, inhaling deeply and looking at you with worries on his mind.

"I didn't know you'd worry about me like that."

"I do that to people I really like." he looked down and you felt your whole body freeze in that moment. Your ears stopped listening and your sight blurred out for a moment.

"You what?" you asked again. Maybe you missheard, maybe you did touch that shroom and now you were delusional.

But you weren't.

"I like you- I had liked you for a while now." he started, looking at you frequently and then back to your hands. "I've always found you quite charming and beautiful but I didn't know I liked you much until that attack on the quidditch tournament with Cedric." he shuffled his feet and you put you moved your eyes to catch his eyes. "And then when I heard about that stupid dare- you really captured my full attention and I just- I didn't believe you would be so courageous to actually go through with it- and with Cedric at this point. I guess, I kind of knew at that point that I wouldn't want to see you with nobody but me."

"That's funny." you said and he quickly tore his hand away and brushed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, it's embarrassing. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be." you said and took his head into your hands. When his eyes met yours, he knew he was worried for nothing because something in your eyes were about to tell him, that you felt quite the same- but you felt more, really. "I've always liked you too... quite a lot." you smiled and he smiled with a big sigh of relief.

"You're not just messing with me, are you?" his hands were now on your hips.

"I think that's more your job." you smiled and leaned a bit closer- where he followed you.

"Oh..." he smiled and leaned into a kiss, soft at first, just to touch the surface but your chest was burning from desire and you couldn't help yourself but grab his jacket collar and pull him closer. He understood that as a sign to deepend the kiss but he couldn't help himself to smile widely as he did. He slid his tongue into your mouth and the two of you kept kissing until you could barely get away for some breath.

You had always wanted that. You had wanted him and you never thought it was possible but he was here and he was real and you could feel his hands shaking on your hips but gripping them tighter and you could feel yourself leaning on his chest, both burning, heating up. To you, life never felt this good and you smiled with a pull.

"I really hope this isn't the shroom making me delusional."

He laughed and embraced you into a hug, lifting you up on your toes. "I was bullshitting about that. I have no clue what that shroom would do. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader

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greynatomy · 1 year ago

Text

reputation

ella toone x reader

first ella toone fic! was in the drafts for a while and got around to finally finishing it. honestly don’t know where i was going with this

———

You had a reputation.

Once you turned eighteen, you started to rebel, wanting to make your point across. At eighteen, you started getting tattoos and buzzed all your hair, looking completely different from the colorful person you used to be. You wanted to steer away from the child everyone sees you to be and be seen more of an adult. The thing is, your management thought that the only way to do that is to make you out to be a womanizer, getting girls left and right.

The smoking, though, that was on you. Becoming well known starting at the age of fifteen, you’ve been under the spotlight from a young age, being told how to dress, how to act, everything in your life was controlled. The smoking, getting tattoos, cutting your hair was a way for you to get some of the control back.

You are now twenty-five. Fired your old management, signed into a new label who let you be you. Its been two years and you’ve been writing and producing songs on low profile. Your fans still figure out which songs have been written/produced by you - even under pseudonyms. You were loving being out of the spotlight for once.

—

The sun shining through the curtains wakes you up from your sleep, eyes fluttering shut from the light. Your arm tightens its hold from the body it’s slung over, pulling them close.

“Mmm, five more minutes.”

You didn’t reply, just pulled her closer than she already is, drifting back to sleep. About an hour later, you wake up to footsteps running around. Sitting up, back resting against the headboard, you see your girlfriend running around, stuffing things into her training bag. You sat there quietly, admiring your her chaotic form rushing in and out the room.

“You’re staring.”

“Just admiring.” You mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Well, I need to leave now or I’ll be late.”

“Did you pack any going out clothes? Wanna take you out after training.”

“Yeah, but what about my car?”

“I’ll take a cab to the facility. Wait for you.”

“Alright, text me when you’re there.” She leans down, giving you a kiss. “I love you.”

You grab the back of her neck and pull her back when she moves away, pulling her back in for another kiss.

“I love you. Now, go before you’re late.”

“See you soon.”

To make time go by faster, you decided to busy yourself with some cleaning around the house. You quite liked being a little housewife for Ella, cooking, cleaning, waiting for her to get back home from training.

Few hours later, dressed casual, you’re in a cab on the way to St. George’s Park. paying the cab driver, you walk to the parking lot looking for Ella’s car.

Rockstar 🎸🖤

at the car. forgot the spare key. take your time

Looney Toones ❤️⚽️

give me a few minutes

You leaned against the car, answering some messages and emails from your phone. You were too focused to notice a couple of footsteps coming towards you.

“Uh, excuse you. Don’t lean on the car.”

You look up, taking the hood off your head, to see Ella’s best friend, Alessia, and one other.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hold on.” Mary, the goalkeeper that Ella’s told you about, spoke up. “Why do you look so familiar?”

Before you could answer, you’re cut off by a very loud voice.

“We’re matching!”

Your face instantly lights up at the voice of your girlfriend.

“What a coincidence!”

“Ha. Ha.” Ella realizes you, once again, matched with her on purpose. “What is it with you wanting to match with me?” She smiles at you with adoration.

You shrug. “You ready to go?”

The clearing of a throat breaks the two of you out of your bubble, forgetting about the other two Lionesses.

“Uh, Tooney?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s this?”

Ella’s face lights up. “Oh! This is me girlfriend, Y/N!”

“Nice to meet your two!” You hold your hand out, but it was just stared at. You let out a chuckle, awkwardly putting your hand back down. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Bye guys.”

Mary and Alessia watch as the car drives off with their friend inside.

“I remember now! She’s Y/N Y/LN. The one I’ve seen on the news always bringing a new one home.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if Ella was just another one of her conquests.”

The next day at training, Mary and Alessia approach Ella during break.

“Hey, guys!” Ella greeted them cheerfully.

“Hey, Ella. Uh, just some questions.”

“What is it?”

“Your girlfriend. You know who she is right?”

Ella was now confused. “Uh, yeah. Of course I do.”

“Well, we’re just worried.”

“About?” Now Ella was getting a bit impatient.

“She’s a bit off a womanizer isn’t she?” Alessia blurts out, speaking up for the first time.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s always seen with a new girl hanging by her arm like every week.”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Look, Tooney. We’re just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? Nah, I’m done with this conversation.”

You were in the backyard when you heard the front door slam shut. Looking towards the door, you see your girlfriend stomping towards you and plopping down on your lap.

“What’s happened?”

“Ugh! Can you believe Mary and Less? They had the nerve! The nerve to accuse you of being with me only temporarily.”

“What else did they say?”

“They were talking ‘bout how you always have anew girl hanging off your arm and stuff, but those were from years ago before you fired everyone.”

You wrap your arms tighter around her, pulling her closer. “Well, I mean, look at it from their perspective. They’ve never met me, they don’t know me like you do. All they have is what they’ve seen online. And they’re your best mates, they’re looking out for you.”

After a few moments of silence, Ella now has a look of determination on her face. She grabs her phone and sends out a text.

“They’ll be here in a couple minutes.”

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

“What do you mean in a couple minutes. I haven’t even cleaned the house yet.”

You run around the house picking up anything you could see to put away, wanting to make a good first- technically second- impression with Ella’s best friends.

“Babe.”

You go to grab the vacuum.

“Baby.”

You also grab a broom because what if the vacuum isn’t enough.

“Baby!” She grabs you by the shoulders to keep you in place. “Breathe.” You do as she says. “Okay. The house isn’t even messy and even if it was, they’d know it was from me.”

You nod your head. “True.”

Exactly as Ella stated, there was a knock on your front door a couple of minutes later. She greets them, letting them in and goes to stand next to you.

“This is Y/N. My girlfriend, as I stated yesterday.”

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You give them a small wave.

Mary’s lips form a straight line while Alessia gives you a small smile in greeting.

“Let me get us something to drink.” Ella announces, leaving the three of you alone.

“What’s your game here?” Mary gets straight to the point.

“Sorry?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“C’mon! You’ve gotten with singers and supermodels, basically everyone. Is Ella another one of your conquests?”

“What? No!”

“I’m not stupid! I know your reputation, you go from one girl to another.”

“Well, then you don’t know me at all!” You were now getting frustrated. You hated when people judge you just because of what they see from the media. You can’t blame them though, that’s all people know you from.

“What’s going on here?” Ella walks back in, drinks in hand, confusion on her face.

“Nothing. Just getting to know—”

“—Actually.” Mary cuts Alessia off. “I just wanted to make sure she is good for you. Based on all the girls she’s been with, I don’t think she is.”

“Okay, that’s enough Mary!”

“I’m just being realistic!”

“No, you’re being an asshole judging my girlfriend from things you see on the internet. You should know not to believe everything you see online. The both of you.” Mary and Alessia looks down in shame. “Also, if you haven’t noticed, she’s been out of the media for two years so everything you’ve seen was from a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s been with half the population before you!”

“It does when you find out that that isn’t true at all.”

“What?” Alessia’s voice was soft but heard.

“My name is-was a brand by the label. I was legally blinded to do what they told me to do and the acting out, smoking, tattoos, those are the only ways I could take some control back, but I never took advantage of anyone. All those girls I’ve been pictured with, I’ve only slept with one until she left me because management wanted to keep the ‘bad girl’ image.”

You move to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from a refrigerator. Popping it open, you take a swig, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Two years ago, I decided to ‘run away’ to Manchester. Fired my whole team and just disappeared.”

“That’s when I met ‘er.” Ella cuts in, wrapping an arm around your waist, leaning into you. “Started dating two months after the countless dates she took me on and it’s been almost two years. She makes me really happy.” The last sentence was directed right at her friends.

“Okay. I’m sorry for judging you so quick.”

“Same with me. I’m sorry.”

“No hard feelings at all.” You give them both a smile. “Now since you’re both here, why don’t you stay for dinner.

The three perk up at the mention of food.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #ella toone #ella toone x reader #engwnt x reader #woso community

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pleasantphantomhologram · 7 months ago

Text

Title: longing (Part 1)(PART 2)

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Reader

Warning: Modern Setting, Fertility problem, Angst, Hurt.

Summary: When the doctor said that you will lose your chance to have a children, suddenly your world collapse, but Marcus Acacius, your husband is there no matter what's your choice.

A/N: Hello! i just want to drop this fanfiction that have been on my draft since i dont know when. so... yeah, enjoy the part 1. Please leave a note,if you are interest for the part 2 :') (I am so sorry if it is there any grammar error, it is not my main language :'( )

"You are the only matter to me Y/N. No matter what you choose, I will support you."

The baby's cries were like the incessant honking of cars at a busy city intersection. Y/N stared blankly at the dull white ceiling of her hospital room. This shared room was meant for two patients, and she didn't know much about the woman in the next bed, but she was certain the other woman had just given birth to her first child.

Child, a familiar word on the tip of her tongue, yet so foreign at the same time. For Y/N, having a child was a small dream she had harbored for a long time because having a small family with Acacius was the meaning of happiness for her. Acacius, a middle-aged man who had unexpectedly entered Y/N's life and promised to be by her side until death did them part, the man who was always there for her when she had to endure the severe cramps every time her period came, the man who only looked at her with concern and not judgment when the doctor said...

"I'm sorry, but it's no longer possible to save Mrs. Y/N's uterine wall,"

Acacius held Y/N's hand, which was starting to tremble as the doctor's verdict filled the room.

"No, there must be another way, doc, I'm still young, not even thirty yet."

"Once again, I'm sorry Mrs. Y/N, but your fibroids are too large and attached to your uterine wall."

"NO! IT'S JUST A NORMAL FIBROIDS, WHY DOES MY UTERINE WALL HAVE TO BE REMOVED TOO?" Y/N's anger came out in every word she uttered.

"Y/N, hey, calm down, honey."

"NO, THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE JUDGEMENT..."

Acacius slowly embraced Y/N, who was now starting to become hysterical. Removing her uterine wall? Really? It was like forcibly taking her soul away, and it was so cruel. The man hugged her tightly, stroking Y/N's back slowly, hoping his wife knew that even though this was difficult, the most important thing for him was for her to get healthy and smile again like the first time they met.

"Hey, Y/N. Please listen to me for a moment, honey? Please look at me. I know this is so heartbreaking for us. Yes, I know you will feel less than any woman, but the only thing that matters to me is you becoming healthy again. You are still my wife, the one I chose to be with forever. Screw people and society. Please, baby, we will get through this together. I promise it will be hard at first, but trust me, it will be alright." Acacius said, his hand gently touched the lines of Y/N's face and directed her eyes, which were now filled with tears, to look into Acacius's eyes.

"I love you, always. with or without children. You are the only matter to me Y/N. No matter what you choose, I will support you."

Their conversation in the doctor's room a few days ago echoed in her mind, accompanied by the sound of Acacius's anger coming from outside the hospital ward. Her husband was protesting to the hospital staff about their decision to place her in the same ward with all the women who had just given birth. Of course, he was angry, very angry to be exact. How could the hospital staff be so heartless, when it was clear that she had a different condition than the others? He was afraid that all this would add stress to her life.

You could still faintly hear Acacius insisting on moving you, who had just finished having your uterine wall removed, to a VIP room. Shortly after that, Acacius came back into the room and sat beside you. His expression still looked angry, but he tried to hide it.

"Honey.., talk to me..,"

"I am so sorry Y/N"

" It's not your fault."

"I am so sorry, I swear I will make things a lot easier for you." said Acacius.

"You are here. and it is already enough."

Acacius looked at Y/N, you knew he was calming himself down as his fingers slowly held your fingers and kissed them.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus acacius #your name #marcus acacius x reader #fanfiction

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goquokka00 · 1 year ago

Text

Bridge Over Troubled Lovers (Pt. 1)

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |

Summary: You are the daughter of the Hwang family, a family infamous for their line of beauty products and even more so for their eldest son: Hyunjin. You're in the market for a husband, but sadly, you don't catch anyone's eye. Not until a fateful evening, where the eldest son of the Bahng family changes everything.

Pairing: Bangchan X Reader (F!)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Some Humor, Eventual Smut (MDNI) (I will give heavy emphasis on when the smut will occur, don't worry 😊)

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Fuck you guys, writer's block is literally no joke 😫. I had this sitting in my drafts for fucking ever, trying to figure out how much to write without it getting boring and I hope that it didn't and I'm so sorry for not getting to it because I meant to have it out earlier but again, writer's block has been beating my ass like you wouldn't believe. So I hope this part makes up for it?? I hope.

Every day seemed to be the same for you. Wake up, get dressed, go down to the dining room for breakfast, and then walk the courtyard with Hyunjin until you got bored and went to the river. Then you'd go back for dinner, listen to your parents and Hyunjin talk about whatever, and then go to bed.

It was a process you'd gotten used to.

Today wasn't much different. You had woken up around dawn, the same time as usual. And as usual, your maid wasn't in to help you. You yawned and stretched, going to your bathroom and brushed your teeth and hair, deciding to leave it down for the day. You also made sure to wash your face and apply a little bit of makeup.

You had to look the part of a Hwang, after all. You really didn't want to have to deal with your father calling you a disgrace to the family. It...wasn't fun to deal with. Not to mention also having to be compared to your brother.

Once you were done in the bathroom, you walked to your closet, finding a dress that would be fitting for the day. You figured that a simple sundress would do. And so, you slipped it on before leaving the room.

Breakfast was pouched eggs and salmon. One of Hyunjin's favorites. Though it was delicious, it wasn't one of your tops. But you still sat down across from Hyunjin, bowing your head to the butler that brought you your food, and began to eat. You made sure to cut the salmon and eggs into small pieces, knowing that you had to be graceful while eating.

Your mother and father was also at the table, eating peacefully, but not making any conversation toward you. It was normal for them not to. You weren't nearly as interesting as your brother. But you still listened to the conversation they were having.

"There's going to be a party at the Han's Friday evening. And I'm assuming you plan to go?" Your father asked Hyunjin, who nodded with a smile. He took a sip of his tea, looking to the old man.

"I do, yes. Hopefully there will be someone there who pique my interest to court." Hyunjin replied.

Yeah, you forgot about that.

Both you and Hyunjin were at the age where you had to try and find someone to marry. And it was tradition for men to court women. Except, there were some problems for both of you.

For one, Hyunjin was always surrounded by women. He just couldn't catch a break, no matter how hard he tried. Not to mention that men also tended to come to him to talk about business opportunities. And while Hyunjin was grateful, he also wanted a chance to court a lady who fit his ideals.

Your problem was entirely different. Any man who approached you wanted nothing more than to talk with your brother. They'd introduce themselves, and then immediately ask if you could get your brother so they could talk business. And while you did so for them, you wished that they'd court. Mainly so you didn't have to stoop to the other women's attempts to court a man.

"I'm sure you'll find someone eventually, Hyunjin. But going to this party will definitely help your chances." Your mother told him, giving him a smile. Hyunjin nodded to her, setting his fork and knife on his empty plate.

"Yes. And I can't wait for it." Hyunjin responded, before standing up from the table. "I think I'm going to go and get a bit of work done. I'm sure I'll see you both around."

"Of course, Hyunjin."

"Work hard, dear."

With that, Hyunjin bowed, before walking around the table to you, gently squeezing your shoulder. It was his greeting to you. And an invite. An invite to join him in his study.

One you'd graciously take.

Once he was out of the room, it got quiet again. Your mother and father went back to eating, and you continued doing so. It was like you were invisible to them. But it was normal, it always has been.

It didn't take you very long to finish your breakfast, standing up and excusing yourself with a smile. And then, you left the table, walking up to Hyunjin's study. And once you reached the door, you gently knocked, opening it to poke your head through.

"Hyunjin, its me." You greeted. Hyunjin's nose was in papers, just like it always was. But it didn't take him long to lift his head up, giving you a smile.

"Hey! I was wondering how long it'd take for you to finish up!" Hyunjin smiled, standing up and walking over to you. You also smiled, watching Hyunjin come and place a hand on your head, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

"But don't you have work?" You questioned, watching Hyunjin shrug.

"Yeah, but I've been cooped up for days trying to get all of this work sorted out. I need some fresh air." Hyunjin said nonchalantly. He walked right by you, gently nudging your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, following him.

"You always seem to need fresh air. Couldn't you just open a window?"

"I could, but then I wouldn't get to spend time with you." Hyunjin spoke, turning to give you a smile. You smiled back, the two of you heading out to the garden. And once you both got out there, Hyunjin was immediately greeted by the gardeners.

He bowed, having a small conversation with them, while you stayed by his side, a smile on your face as they spoke. They had no interest speaking with you, all they wanted was to know Hyunjin's opinion on how the flowers and the garden-work looked. Hyunjin humored them, of course, complimenting their work before excusing himself, wanting to continue his walk with you.

And once they were out of ear shot, he finally spoke to you.

"So, how has courting been going?" He asked, watching you roll your eyes. It caused him to laugh. "Not going well, then?"

"How could it be when everyone wishes to talk with you?" You replied, giving him a half smile.

"Is that so?"

"Very. Any man that graces me with their presence only wishes to speak business with the upcoming head of the Hwang Household." You told him, folding your hands in front of you as you both walked.

"I see. Then I suppose Cupid isn't on the side of the Hwangs."

"You haven't had much luck either then, I suppose?"

"How could I? Girls swarm me, men constantly talk business...I barely have time to go and court any girl I see any interest in."

"At least people wish to talk with you." You had a point, and Hyunjin knew that. He had an upper hand with people wanting to always talk with him, always gush over him. And yet, you never seemed to catch anyone's attention. Even when you attempted conversation with a man, they always excused themselves, never to talk with you again.

Always such a pain.

"I suppose you have a point, but you'll find someone someday. I know you will." Hyunjin smiled to you, patting your shoulder as you both walked. "You just have to keep attending parties. Like the one this Friday at the Han's."

"Please, I highly doubt that I'd be wanted there." You replied. "I'd just stand around, clinging to the wall like I always do. Either that or direct men to where you are."

"You don't know that." Hyunjin told you. He stopped walking, going in front of you and grabbed your shoulders, a soft smile on his face. "You could find the love of your life, your future husband that could take such good care of you and-"

"I don't think that's how it's going to play out."

"You never know unless you give it a try!" Hyunjin said to you. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure you'd go. "The only parties and dinner events I've ever seen you attend were the ones our own family hosted anyway. Going to somebody else's gathering could make a large difference."

"But don't we invite the Han's over all the time?" You asked, crossing your arms. "As well as most of the people that they usually invite?"

"Oh come on, name a few people that would be at that party that we'd also invite-"

"The Lee's, the Yang's, the Honeywood's, the King's, the Bridger's, the Porter's, the Dukesbury's, the Lethbridge's, the Kim's, the other Kim's, the-"

"Okay, I get it. We know a lot of the same people. But the Hans know so many more!" Hyunjin said. "After all, they're a toy business! They reach out so often to so many different families, there's bound to be new people for both of us to meet."

Again, he had a fair point, despite your curses you sent towards him. The Hans were a family in the children's toy business, and that meant they were constantly reaching out to any and every family in order to stay accurate and precise with the toys they made.

And that also meant that they were a good party to be social at, because it meant that you'd have more of an opportunity to actually talk to people.

Hyunjin let his words sink in, let you think for a moment, before letting out a sigh, tilting your head up so you'd look at him, giving you a warm smile so you'd actually consider his proposal.

"Just...give it a chance. For me?" Hyunjin asked, moving to look into your eyes. You looked back into his, trying your best to find any reason not to go.

You hated social events, because it was just as you said. You'd keep to the side, occasionally eating some of the hors d'oeuvres, maybe snag a glass of champagne or wine, and direct people to wherever your brother may be.

But at the same time, Hyunjin had a point too. You'd never find your future significant other if you didn't push your boundaries and be social. They weren't going to come find you if you didn't put yourself out there.

And so, with a sigh, you gave him an answer.

"Fine."

"You look absolutely lovely today, Channie!"

"Oh, thank you! You look lovely as well, Lady Sophie." Chan gave a smile as he looked to the ladies who had come to his estate's plaza.

He was just on his way out to go and visit the Han Household, knowing that the new head of the family and his good friend, Jisung, wanted to talk with him about some things. And besides, Chan could never say no to a meal that would be free.

Of course, the ladies who gathered in the plaza every morning just to see Chan were a bit in the way, like they always were. Chan just didn't have what it took to be mean to them.

He never did.

But he was thankful when the carriage arrived, the door opening to reveal his friend inside, waving to him.

"Chan! Good to see you again!" He said, Chan smiling at the sight of his friend. He looked to the girls, bowing to excuse himself, before going inside, shutting the door once he was seated.

"It's good to see you as well, Jisung. How has your family been?" Chan asked, Han giving him a smile.

"Oh, we've been doing amazing! Our profits have gone up by 10% in the last month, and we have the Hwang family to thank for it." Jisung said, feeling the horses pull at the carriage, taking them back to his own home. "Their upcoming head, Hyunjin, came up with the idea to make teddy bears with satin cloth to help prevent skin issues. And they've been working like a charm!"

"The Hwangs, huh?" Chan had heard of that family. They were big into skin care and beauty products. From cheaper moisturizers to expensive blushes and foundations. And his sister loved their products with everything in her. Though, Chan couldn't see his family working with them.

How would you even make a business collaboration or a business partnership between a family who makes skin care products and a family who makes guns and weapons for the military?

"Oh yeah. As thanks, I invited them to the party my father decided to host for his and my mother's anniversary." Jisung continued, before gasping and looking to Chan with excited eyes. "You should come, too! I could even introduce you to Hyunjin!"

"Oh, whoa whoa whoa, slow down!" Chan laughed a bit, knowing how Jisung got sometimes. Way too excited, acting before thinking. "As much as I'd love to attend, I have a lot of work to do as well."

"And? It's on Friday, and you don't do much on Fridays anyway. You write to people in the morning, and then you have the rest of the day off, don't you?"

"Well, kind of, but-"

"Then come!" Jisung said, moving next to Chan. He immediately wrapped an arm around Chan's shoulders, moving him back and forth, back and forth. "Besides, you've been meaning to court a girl for your wife, haven't you?"

Ugh, Chan sometimes hated that he was close friends with Jisung.

It meant that Jisung knew of Chan's struggles with finding a girl to court. Mainly because women constantly swarmed him. And because Chan was easy to fluster and shy away, it made him nervous to talk to those women that constantly surrounded him.

Sure, he was nice to them. How couldn't he? Breaking a women's heart was like breaking their soul, at least, that's what his father always told him. But he feared that it also fed their need to always hound him and swarm him and just...overwhelm him.

It...wasn't fun.

"Well, yeah...but it's not like you've been doing much better." Chan said, Jisung crossing his arms with a scoff.

"Pah-lease, I'll have you know that I recently just started courting the younger sister of Sir Minho Lee, and he supports it!"

"No way..."

"Yes way! And she's a kind-hearted soul, couldn't hurt a fly. And honestly, she's amazing in every way, shape, and form...I really lucked out." Jisung couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as he talked about his significant other. Chan could definitely see that he loved her.

And he was...kind of jealous. He wanted a love like that.

"That's nice, I'm happy for you. Really." Chan said, smiling to his friend. Jisung smiled back, patting Chan's shoulder.

"Listen, with Hyunjin there, I bet you that he'll have all of the girls' attention. He's a pretty handsome guy, I mean, he could be a prince with his looks." Jisung said, crossing his arms. "It'd give you a pretty nice shot at talking to ladies at your own speed. And it'd also allow you to be social without running away from women, y'know?"

"I guess you have a point." Chan said, letting out a sigh.

It would be amazing if Chan could actually have space at a party for the first time in forever. Getting to talk to women at his own pace, getting to converse with men and get more contacts with other families besides the few he had gotten to know from his dad.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to find someone to love. Just like his friends had been able to.

"So then, what do you say?" Jisung asked, looking at Chan in the eyes, obviously hopeful. And with a sigh that faded into a smile, Chan responded.

"I don't see why not." Chan told Jisung. Jisung immediately smiled, getting all giddy with excitement at the idea of Chan going to meet someone at the party.

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect! I'll give you all of the details once we get back to my estate!" Jisung exclaimed, Chan laughing.

It was certainly going to be interesting. That was for absolute certain.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken @freckleboilix @miss-daisy04 @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

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despairat6oclock · 7 months ago

Note

jimbo gets kissed by slightly intoxicated masc!reader at a holiday party at willne’s office, chaos ensues

run wild with this one

-☀️

My dear, lovely, anon

This was supposed to be out of my drafts centuries ago... please don't come at me with a pitchfork and torch with how short this is (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

Liquid Courage

Synopsis: a bit of liquid courage gives one the bravery to initiate what's been on their mind.

masc!reader x James Marriott

Word Count: 664

Contains: fluff if you squint

Warnings: drunk reader, Willne playing matchmaker

[m.list]

The atmosphere that was once filled with festive music and not that alcoholic of drinks, was now blasting drill with people either walking straight or stumbling.

Will's hearty laugh rang into James’ ears as he pointed out some lyrics James had missed. Up against the wall, his social battery draining ages ago, the cup of juice in his hand tasting too bitter for his liking.

It wasn't that James didn't like these people, he actually thoroughly enjoyed everyone's presence here. Or he did an hour ago.

But now, he wanted to catch a Uber home. Maybe treat himself to a takeout that he would have to fend Otto off of. A perfect night in his book.

Or maybe he did wanna stay here, just a bit longer.

Belting out the slurred lyrics of the pop song that now pounded against the speaker. Arm clutching your stomach like you were actually trying, until a laugh bubbled up your throat and your drink flowed down the edges of the cup it sat in.

James was entranced. Plain to say. From how you had ditched your sweater when the alcohol you had consumed was enough to keep you warm. To the way your once neat hair was now a frizzy mess. Who knew people could have so much fun at a corporate party.

James knew you, or of you. Editing for Will for as long as he had known him, and Will trying to interfere with both of your lives.

“Look! Y/N is here!”

Will basically scream, the music was not that loud. At least to sober ears.

Will was absolutely convinced the two were meant, for reasons he'd rather keep to himself.

“Y/N!”

Will screamed once again.

James' cheeks flushed as you looked over at the two wallflowers. Walking to them. Him. Walking to him.

With glassy glazed eyes, and a cup of a terribly proportion cocktail swishing in your hand.

“James” you slurred, barely coherent. At least, that's what he thought you said. It sounded more like “Games”, but as long as it was directed at him. He was ok.

“Y/n”

James smiled, offering a side hug.

Both of your arms wrap around him, lips coming to chase a kiss onto his cheek.

“That's what the French do, no?”

You hum before continuing, looking up at him, “Wait, here.”

A single long, unmoving kiss onto his lips.

Your lips tasted like the most alcohol he's had in years, which made him flinch away.

Tilting your head as you pull away, “Uh sorry I-”

“No no, you're ok”

James quickly interjected, “It just tastes like alcohol” he laughed off.

Eyes looking on in horror as your jaw becomes slack. Laughing at your expression, looking to his side to share this moment only to see Will had gone.

“James wait I didn't, I wouldn't-”

One gentle, but firm, hand on your shoulder. A soft squeeze that turned to a half-done massage.

“I appreciate it, just, would enjoy it more…you know, with a bit more warning next time.”

You frantically nod, your buzzing mind pleading to make amends.

James looks you up and down with a giddy smile, “so, are you going to ask next time?”

“Can I kiss you James?”

“Yes”

It was breathless, and James was sure his lips landed on yours first. It wasn't rough or hurried, or lustful or intense.

James fingers skipped down your arm, gently prying your red cup out of your grip before intertwining your fingers together with his.

His other hand went up to your cheek, gently caressing it as he pulled away.

You're nodding at unspoken words when James looks down at you, his hand gently stroking your cheekbone.

“That was better,” James hums, his eyes darting away from you for a moment to see if Will had suddenly appeared.

And he did. Across the room, giving the most obnoxious thumbs up and giggling into his own hand. James would never hear the end of this.

#despairat6oclock #uk youtubers #youtube imagine #youtuber #james marriott #james marriott fanfiction #james marriott oneshot #james marriott x reader #james marriott youtube

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kaepop-trash · 8 days ago

Note

Why did y/n leave Jaehyun 3 days before he left to study abroad? We need more of the backstory 😭

My Favorite Things

Starting to wonder if July becomes the month of being creatively reborn? Something something my month of birth something something. This has been sitting in my drafts for *checks absentmindedly* a whole year. Despicable behaviour. This isn't my best work, but I needed to get this out there. If for nothing, to remind myself that I can still write. I would love to hear from anybody who reads this, just to appreciate the ones who never give up on me.

Summary: What came before.

Warnings: none

WC: 3.6K

Mini Masterlist

In the semester that had passed since he started university, the record store outside campus became somewhat of a haven. The first time he passed it, Jaehyun wasn’t sure what he saw. The banner on top had worn with age and the shutters were down.

“There used to be a record store here.” Jaehyun spoke wistfully, wishing he could go in. Who knows when it had shut down.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it open before. It's just too late.” Johnny hummed, probably trying to recall. “Odd thing, to have a record store near the undergrad campus.” Johnny continued to muse,

That surprised Jaehyun, flooding him with relief that he hadn’t missed the opportunity.

“I would love to go in sometime.” Jaehyun smiled, making a mental note to look up the hours.

Jaehyun slid the rusted door open, walking into the small shop that had more records than it did space. The man at the counter looked up, sniggering almost immediately.

”It’s occupied again.” He grinned, pointing his chin to the descending stairs. Jaehyun nodded politely, making his way to the basement.

One of his favourite parts of this place was just how it embraced being out of place, a relic of a time that Jaehyun couldn’t imagine. The basement was even more so, all the unsold records since its inception relegated to this dusty, sunless room that seemed to hang somewhere outside space and time. Each shelf threatened to cave under the weight of all the music that came before, yet seemingly the sturdiest things he had ever seen. Everytime he entered this space, walked down those rotting wooden stairs, Jaehyun felt like he was in a museum. This is how a museum should make one feel, he figured. Like an insignificant speck amongst an ocean of relevance. All the records here felt to overwhelming to approach, the music in them meant to outlast even him. It almost felt wrong to touch them without knowing what they were, and there were far too many to ever make a satisfying random choice. But he liked the space enough, sheepishly carrying down some brand new records to listen to in the solitude, feeling like an imposter.

Most days he got to stew in that feeling by himself, not a lot of people came into the store on weekdays. Even less came down to the dusty, sunless basement, filled to the ceiling with records in yellowing sleeves. But the past month or so, a girl started coming in more and more, using the only player available on this floor, an old thing that felt out of place on the modern top floor, yet still too sturdy to throw away. He had started by using the time to finally look around the basement, to take in some of the records in hopes of being less daunted by them. But as the days passed, the girl seemed to spend more and more time on the player.

Unlike the last three or four times, the sight of the girl didn’t annoy him. Apart from being warned by the attendant, he realised that he had spent his walk to the record shop wondering about her.

As usual, she sat cross-legged on the dusty carpet, hunched over the player and cupping the headphones that were much too big for her head. The shell of a record lay beside her, Duke Ellington today.

It had been Coltrane last time, and Jaehyun dragged himself to where she usually shoved her records in after finishing. His fingers traced the red letters against the blue sleeve, the paper curling with age. When he turned it over he was almost shocked. Four songs, two on each side. He could listen to that. He grinned to himself at the initiative, pressing the record against his chest as he weaved into the shelves to explore some more.

Jaehyun hovered like he usually did, waiting just in case she was done with the player. He sighed as he pulled out a record absentmindedly, eyes honed in on her back like it would telepathically get his message across.

Air sliced beside him followed by a loud series of crashes. Two heads turned to the source.

Somehow, Jaehyun had managed to make an entire shelf of records come loose. He prayed to every god he could remember that they did not break. The sheer weight of that destruction would crush him.

”Are you okay?” The voice behind him sounded perturbed.

Jaehyun had to brush off his embarrassment, turning with his best charming smile.

“What the hell, dude?” Another voice made them both turn, the shop’s attendant leaning from the very top of the stairs.

”Sorry!” Jaehyun winced, “I’ll clean it up!” He chuckled unceremoniously, exhaling in relief when the man just huffed and went back to his counter.

A second pair of hands joined his effort. When he looked up, there were no headphones on her ear. Behind her the player finally left unattended.

”You’re always here.” She gave him a suspicious look that made Jaehyun’s ears heat up more than they already had.

”So are you,” He mumbled his shoddy defense.

”Yeah, but I don’t stare at you the entire time.” Her brows creased further, his ears now boiling.

”I want to use the player but you’re always on it.” He spoke after several moments, sounding to himself worthy of her suspicions.

”Oh,” She looked up briefly from sorting the records, “You should have just asked.” She mumbled, standing up with the last of the records.

Jaehyun had nothing to say to that, the silence eating away at his dignity.

She walked up to the player, removing the Ellington record and gathering her things.

”All yours.” She pointed at it before walking away.

”Thanks!” He announced for the back, “For the player and the help.” He pressed the Coltrane tighter against his chest, not even sure why he wanted her to notice. She did not, scurrying away instead. Jaehyun thought she nodded but she did not turn.

”I’m Jaehyun, by the way.” He announced the next time he saw her, reaching his hand out.

”I know who you are.” She spoke to the floor, removing the headphones and gathering her things, “You gave me your notes on Keynes last semester. I passed econ because of that.”

”Oh.” He failed to recall, feeling guilty for the slight. When she went to take out her record he stopped her.

”Do you mind if I listen to that?” He questioned, eyeing the record’s cover— “The Essential Glenn Miller”.

”Sure. It’s not mine.” She got up, brushing dust off her jeans.

He wanted to ask her if the two other records lying there were also her choice, but she didn’t look in the mood to converse.

The time after that, Jaehyun was in a café with Johnny between classes. She walked by them, earphones tucked in and chin tucked down. Jaehyun watched her walk by, idly wondering what she was listening to. Johnny seemed to catch the movement, making Jaehyun catch himself.

”Hey, (Y/N).” He stopped her with a raised arm hitting her belly, “I still have your pen.”

”You have more than one.” She frowned, before surprising Jaehyun by smiling at Johnny, “What’s up?”

”Just waiting for my next class,” He pointed at the table. She strayed a look at Jaehyun before turning back to Johnny, “Do you know if we have Dr Richard’s class today?” He asked.

”Cancelled.” She shrugged, “Didn’t you have a date today, anyway?”

Johnny laughed, “I can’t believe you remember that.”

”I wouldn’t know it at all if you learned to shut up during class.” She scoffed, earning a quick snigger from Johnny.

”You both don’t have classes together this time?” Johnny asked after a moment, pointing to Jaehyun.

”What business would I have sharing classes with someone in such a different major?”

”You mean, what business do you have sharing classes with a business major?” Johnny wiggled his brows, earning two independent scoffs.

”Okay, chuckles. It was nice catching up, but I have a class.” She put a hand on his shoulder, turning to give Jaehyun a single nod.

”Want me to set you up?” Johnny asked with his teasing tone, making Jaehyun’s ears heat.

”Like I have the time to date.” Jaehyun mumbled.

“Is that Spanish?” Jaehyun squinted at the record.

She nodded, handing him the headphones.

”Will you suggest something to listen to?”

”This is a nice record.” She pointed at the one in the player, turning behind her, “So is this but they’re not jazz.”

”That’s fine. I can trust your taste.” He said in stride, neck heating up when she looked up at him, “I mean–“

”I got what you mean.” She interjected, lips twitching.

She left the record in when she got up, giving him a nod to signal the passing of the baton, a ritual they had established in the past month or so. Jaehyun eyed the song list on the cover, deciding to start with the last track she left.

Jaehyun was enjoying orienting himself to the new style of music, looking up the ones he did like to save for later. He was so deep in this search that a hand on his shoulder made him jerk back with a gasp. He heard a string of apologies when he took the headphones off.

”Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you but it's getting late and I need to get home,” She winced, a record in her hand, “You will like this I think, if the records you leave are any indicator.”

Jaehyun grinned at that, “Are we the only people who use this player?” He turned his amusement to her, glancing at the record— Amor, it read, with the name Eydie Gormé written in yellow beside what he assumed was the woman’s face.

”Yeah, mostly.” She gave him an awkward grin in return, “Track 10 on this is a personal favourite.” She nudged the vinyl in her hand, reminding Jaehyun to take it. “Enjoy.” She gave him an awkward wave to match, turning away. He tugged at her jeans, making her look down. When he patted on the floor she gave him a questioning brow.

In response Jaehyun turned to the player, smiling to himself as he pulled the headphones out and put his own wired earphones in. Putting one into his ear, he raised the other to her expectantly.

”Just want to get your run down on the basics. What are your favourites on the first two?” He smiled, putting all his charm into a smile she missed the first time. She looked like she wanted to say something, but sat down after a moment instead.

“At least I don’t listen to modern music on vinyl.” She said the words with a contempt that made Jaehyun’s side ache with an oncoming laugh.

”At least I am not a snob.” He retorted, making her swallow whatever words were going to come out. Jaehyun let his ensuing laugh spew out, lying down on the dusty carpet to ease the pain in his stomach.

”You don’t know enough to be a snob.” She said after several moments, the sting of the words fading with the delay.

”That’s true,” He spoke to the molding ceiling, looking up at her next, “That’s what you’re here for,” He ran his tongue under his cheeks, playing with a grin, “Snob.”

”Thanks.” She scoffed, bumping her knee into his abdomen. Jaehyun writhed at the action, sitting up with some new words that were interrupted by a knock on the ceiling. They turned to the stairs.

”Time to go, kids. I have to close shop.”

Jaehyun sighed under his breath.

”Can I drop you to your dorm?” He asked once they left the store, ready to walk in the opposite direction as usual.

She seemed to think over his words, lips parted with some unsaid answer. She swallowed, “I don’t live on campus.” She smiled after a second, “It’s really sweet of you to offer though.”

”Oh,” Jaehyun pondered over the words, “With your parents?”

”With my little brother actually. It isn’t too far from here actually, my parents were professors on campus so we still have the house.”

”Oh,” He noted the past tense and she noted his realisation.

”I inherited my music from my mother, actually. Literally because she left all her records. Our player broke last year so I come here now.”

”Quite the inheritance. I should be grateful to her.” He shuffled, unsure how to navigate the conversation. When she smiled he felt at ease.

“You absolutely should. She would turn in her grave if she was someone listening to, what was it?” She pretended to recall.

“Usher.” He tongued the inside if his cheek.

“Usher!” She gasped, “The horror would be too much.” She laughed.

“For a snob like you, maybe. I think your mother would have been more accommodating.”

She snorted, “That’s her alright,” Her tone was dripping in sarcasm, “accommodating.” Some thought seemed to leech the colour in her eyes before she slapped her thigh and took a step back, “I need to get to the bus stop in fifteen minutes. See you next week.”

“I lowballed by way into a car, so next week I might just drop you home, if you’re less of a snob about Usher.” Jaehyun grinned to mask the anticipation in his tone.

She smiled, her grin reaching her eyes in a way he hadn’t experienced before.

“In that case, neither of us should hold our breaths.”

"Have you finished applying?" (Y/N) asked when she remembered that Jaehyun's deadlines were near. When he didn't answer, she turned over.

"What's wrong?" She asked, inching a little closer when he avoided meeting her gaze.

"I've finished putting my applications together, I'm just waiting for the right time to send it." He spoke up after a moment, giving her a clipped smile and throwing an arm over her waist.

(Y/N) looked at his face carefully, tucking a hand between the cheek and pillow and taking in the skittish look in his eyes.

"You can't just hold your applications hostage because you're afraid of being rejected." She sighed, reading him like an open book.

Jaehyun looked a little conflicted at first, closing his eyes to avoid her piercing gaze and huffing in clear frustration.

(Y/N) wondered if she overstepped. It was easy to read his little tells for her by now, to categorise the things that made him Jaehyun. It was something she mostly tried to keep to herself, but this seemed important enough to make her speak. Yet now, with his eyes closed and brows squeezed, (Y/N) wondered if it simply wasn't her place as the fringe friend.

Her worries would have swallowed her whole, but then Jaehyun opened his eyes with a clear defeated look. "What if I'm not good enough?" He whispered, looking at her with palpable vulnerability that made her ribs shake.

Her smile was pained, the words resonating deep inside her. Yet what was a fear of possibility for him, was a reality for her.

"That, unfortunately, is not up to you to decide.” She cooed, pursing her lips when his eyes flung open. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that. Maybe he was hoping for a false lull of reassurance. She sighed, “There's always going to be something you aren't good enough at. That's just the way things are." She reached out to push his hair back, smiling fondly when he nuzzled into the touch like the creature of comfort he was. "Whether it's something you're incredible at or something that isn't for you, you won't know till you try. Will you?" She questioned, smiling when Jaehyun nodded with a pout. Like a child being encouraged.

"Anyway," She smiled, "You're not even close to not being good enough. Nobody works harder than you. It'll work out for you because you deserve it." She said with a certainty that came from an innate knowing.

(Y/N) firmly believed that people got what they deserved, no more no less. And having seen Jaehyun through the years, she knew he had earned his dream.

"As the gatekeeper of mediocrity," she nudged him, veiling her self assessment in a joke. She laughed when he clicked his tongue, "I refuse to accept you as a part of our community. You're just going to have to spend your days being extraordinary." She clicked her tongue back, squealing when his fingers dug into her side to press her against his chest.

"Who called you mediocre? Want me to pretend I'm mean and violent so I can scare them off?" Jaehyun nuzzled against her neck, nibbling the sensitive skin till she squirmed.

"You can try." She gasped when he replaced his teeth with an open mouthed kiss. "But it's unfortunate that I already know you're neither of those things."

Jaehyun groaned into her neck at the words and she had to laugh, choking on it the next moment when Jaehyun swiftly pushed her back into the mattress, his weight pressing down on her from above.

His kisses turned sloppier, leaving wet trails over her neck and shoulders till her gut churned and twisted.

Jaehyun kissed up her jaw, stopping to leave a lingering kiss at the corner of her mouth, "I'm not extraordinary. I'm just always scared to lose." His words were a timid confession, so soft that she would have missed it had he been a hair's length further.

She lowered her gaze, meeting his wary eyes so close. His candid mood was a rare one, hardly seen outside of the four corners of this mattress. But it was always so honest, so him. As two people who never voiced their grievances in fear of being perceived as weak, moments like this seemed to be a bigger secret between them than their strange relationship.

Jaehyun buried his head into her neck, arms holding her sides. It took another moment for her to get out of her thoughts, to realise that Jaehyun was hugging her.

"Life isn't a race, Jaehyun." She mumbled in his ear, hand coming up to card through his soft hair. "Not when everyone always tries to avoid the finish line." She laughed, earning a smile against her shoulder from him. "All we can do is go along for the ride, throw things at a wall and hope something sticks."

"When can I stop throwing things?" He mumbled along, voice small and still hiding in her neck.

"Whenever you want. I know what you'll say," She added when she heard him sucking in a breath, "It's not that easy. But it is. You can take a break, or stop throwing whenever you feel like it. Nobody will scold you, I can't speak for others but I'd never judge you." She dared to squeeze her arms around him, hugging him back.

"You can stop trying anytime if that's what you need." With a sigh, she rested her forehead against his cheek, "You've already done so much. You're already incredible, Jaehyun." A lump formed in her throat at the words, her own fear of losing him taking hold of her for just a moment.

"I just really want to go to this school. It's the best and I need to prove to myself that I deserve it. That I'm good enough to get in." His words got her out of her own selfish motivation. He wasn't hers to lose. Jaehyun belonged to his aspirations and she reminded herself that it was also one of the reasons she loved him.

"If you don't get in it won't be because you're not good enough. It'll be because someone was just better." She reassured, continuing to stroke his head.

"That is me not being good enough." His words were reluctant, like he himself could tell that he was being petulant.

"No it's just someone having different circumstances than you." She sighed, tone softening. "I know you won't listen, but I just want you to remember that. People don't have to always be better or worse than you. They can simply be different."

It was something she wondered all the time with him, a hint of her own insecurities making her sound cold. With how he saw the world, (Y/N) couldn't help but wonder how he placed her in his arbitrary list. Wherever she stood, it had to be lower than him. She preferred not to ponder over how that made her feel.

Jaehyun slid into the booth, grinning at her. Ever since his acceptance, he smiled a lot more.

”You sounded urgent on the phone, what’s up?” Jaehyun asked, sliding his foot forward to nudge hers.

”Umm,” She tried to meet his gaze but cowered, “You want a drink? I might get a beer.” She got out of her seat, “One for you too?”

Jaehyun nodded, a little confused and a little scared.

It came like a slap to his face. She said the words without any follow-up, no explanation. On Jaehyun’s part, he was too hesitant to ask. He was leaving after all. It shouldn’t have felt like it did, but the words rung in his ears just like a slap would. When the silent moments turned into minutes, she got out of the seat.

He should have said something, Jaehyun wanted to say something; anything at all. But his tongue felt like lead. After all, what was the point? This was what was supposed to happen.

He left that dingy bar with a bitter taste in his mouth that he carried to his new home.

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readerthatreadsss · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet Fantasy | Dean Winchester

GIF by born-to-be-his-baby88

(gave myself an actual pat on the fucking back for finding this gif like y'all are gonna see how perfect it is in a second!)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Dean won't eat his vegetables...until you offer to cash in on a very recent fantasy of his, that is.

Warnings [18+ MINORS DNI]: P*rn w/ some solid plot action actually, a bit of domestic fluff sprinkled in, reader and Dean are married (don't know if that's a warning but you should know?), reader dresses up in a sexy Zorro costume with the hat and mask included, handcuffs (Dean receiving), mentions of a safeword but not used, fingering/masturbation (reader receiving), oral sex (brief Dean receiving), a whole lotta teasing (Dean receiving), p in v sex (cowgirl, missionary), unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly!), dirty talk, switch! Dean, switch! reader, very vocal Dean, brief choking (Dean receiving), creampie.

A/n: Hey! Sorry for disappearing for 3 months again...So classes finished almost 2 months ago and I've been wracking my brain about what to post. I tried finishing some of my drafts and it just wasn't working for me idk. Then, like any normal person, I was randomly watching some SPN bloopers this morning and it got to a scene where Dean said sometimes he wants to get spanked during sex by a girl wearing a Zorro mask and my brain ran with that shit IMMEDIATELY. Now, I'm so sorry I couldn't actually write him actually getting spanked without it sounding corny and just wrong to me? But I did write all of this in 7 hours without stopping so I'm honestly proud of it regardless.

Enjoy...

It was a Sunday evening in the bunker, meaning you were responsible for dinner. With that task came the additional task of getting Dean to eat whatever vegetables you cooked without complaining and engaging in a rant that would end with him calling himself the “meat man”.

It’s not that you were concerned about Dean's weight or appearance, after 7 years of marriage you were confident that there was nothing in the world that could make you love Dean Winchester any less. But having a steady diet of beer, beef, and pie was a surefire way to kill any man of Dean’s age faster than any monster or demon.

And God knows you’d do anything to ensure he didn’t die before his time.

Hell, you have before.

Which is why you made Dean agree to eat a side of only vegetables with whatever meat he wanted at least once a week. This week it was string beans and sautéed mushrooms, aka his least favorite vegetable.

But you didn’t have the time to make the 45-minute drive to the grocery store earlier that day so he would have to deal.

Or you wish he would deal…

“Mushrooms? Baby come on,” he complained when you placed his plate before him.

“Hey, it’s all that was left in the fridge. Eat up,” you shrugged, placing a kiss on the crown of his head.

“You know, we could always do no vegetables,” Dean offered with a wide grin.

You chuckled and used a finger to squish his stubbled cheek. “You wish, Winchester.”

He sighed in defeat and turned to pick up his fork.

You looked to make sure Sam was out of earshot before leaning down to where your lips grazed Dean’s ear. “Tell you what, if you eat those vegetables I’ll do that thing you told me about…later” you whispered.

Dean’s eyes lit up immediately, “The thing?” he harshly whispered.

You nodded with a smile.

“Costume and everything?” He made a gesture with his hands.

“Yup, I’ve been hiding the costume for weeks.”

“I’m game” Dean agreed, digging into the mushrooms first.

You turned away to share your own plate with a smile.

“I’m gonna go grocery shopping later,” Sam announced as he sat beside Dean with his plate. He met your eyes, “Anything else you forgot to put on the list?”

“Yeah stop at the liquor store and grab me a bottle of red? I ran out,” you answered sitting across from the boys with your plate.

Sam grabbed a pen and a piece of folded paper from his pocket and added it to his list, “Yeah, no problem. What brand again?”

You swallowed a piece of your chicken with a smirk. “I’m sure you already know seeing as you’re the one who emptied the bottle to the very last drop,” you addressed Sam.

His pen slipped from his grip, his green eyes widening to meet your narrowed ones.

“You drink red wine?” Dean pointed at Sam in disbelief as a laugh rumbled in his chest.

“How did you know?” He asked you, ignoring Dean’s quip.

“I saw you passed out in the library clutching the bottle the other night.”

“Listen Dean finished all the beer and it was the first thing I saw,” he defended himself.

“Oh, you’re getting more creative with your excuses. I'm impressed!” You gushed, sarcasm evident in your tone, “What was it again last week? ‘Oh Eileen wanted to taste some’ " you mimicked his gruff tone causing him to roll his eyes and Dean’s laughter to grow louder. “-when we all know that Eileen is a white wine type of gal.”

"I-" Sam tried to come up with a retort but eventually gave up. “Whatever.”

“Yeah pick up 3 bottles this time in case Eileen wants a taste,” you replied with a grin.

“Three bottles?!” He exclaimed.

“You aren’t the one paying for it, genius,” you reminded him, referring to the unlimited card Charlie hacked for you all those years ago.

“Yeah but I’m gonna have to lug it up here,” Sam mumbled as he stuck his fork into his chicken.

Dinner continued mostly in silence with Sam thinking about the two lousy trips he’d have to make between his car and the kitchen once he returns with the groceries, Dean thinking about the reward he’ll be getting for the vegetables he’s actually grown used to eating, and y/n thinking about all the ways she’s gonna make Dean squirm later.

~ ~ ~

Hours had passed since dinner and Sam was now on his way to the grocery store leaving just you and Dean in the bunker.

To say he was excited would be an understatement.

Dean first told you about this fantasy of his after a case you had months ago required you to take a trip to an adult costume shop to question the owner. It took mere seconds for the image of you in the very specific costume to cross his mind after laying eyes on the packaging.

You laughed at the idea when he told you and silently decided you would try and find the costume.

Of course, he didn’t believe you would actually indulge him but you were actually excited too. Costumes and toys weren’t new territory for you and Dean but they were few and far between with your unpredictable hunting schedules.

Dean now sat at the edge of your shared bed wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt waiting for you to return like you had promised.

But it had been almost 20 minutes since you left to get changed and his patience was wearing thin. He was seconds away from getting up and coming to see if you needed help or if you were even hurt.

Which you predicted would be the case.

So you had been standing out of sight by the doorway for less than a minute now waiting for him to try and leave.

“Damnit,” Dean eventually gave in to his worries and began to make his way to the door.

You smirked once you heard his determined steps drawing closer.

Dean’s eyes widened once you spun from your hiding spot against the wall to stand before him. “Looking for me?”

You watched his throat bob and his pupils dilate as he took in your full look.

Atop your head and face rested a sexy black Zorro mask and matching hat. You were also wearing a black sleeveless leather top that stopped in your midriff region and had strings tied between your breasts that allowed a whole lot of cleavage to be on display. The leather skirt that accompanied was low-waisted and stopped at your upper thigh, matching the black thong you were wearing beneath.

You had stretched the thin straps of the thong along your hips above the skirt for added flair.

In your right hand, you held a fake silver sword similar to the one Zorro held in the movies, and hanging from the left side of your skirt were two handcuffs ready and waiting to be used.

You were sex on knee-length boot-covered legs.

Dean felt himself growing hard already.

You bit your bottom lip at the way your husband’s eyes roamed your body, hoping the dark red lipstick covering it was as transfer and waterproof as the box advertised.

“You look...stunning,” Dean marveled. The model on the packaging of the costume didn’t come close to how it looked on your body.

Your heart swelled at the compliment before remembering the persona you had practiced for the night ahead. “Oh I know,” you took a step closer and leaned against the doorway. You pointed the sword in Dean’s direction. “Why are you still dressed, Dean?” you asked with furrowed brows and a smile.

A chuckle almost left your lips at the sight of Dean fumbling with his pant strings and tripping over his own legs to send the pajama bottoms flying over to a random corner while throwing off his t-shirt with record speed.

He stood before you in only his boxers, his enjoyment of your costume evident by the bulge in the center.

“Get on the bed.” You told him, your tone not excessively commanding but sexy enough to make him obey immediately.

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, quickly sitting and sliding up to the headboard of the bed.

You walked further into the room and placed your sword down before climbing onto the bed and slowly crawling to where Dean sat. His green eyes followed your every move as you moved to straddle him, but not fully.

You then grabbed the two pairs of handcuffs attached to your hips and twirled them around your fingers. “How you feeling Dean?” you checked in, your hips hovering above his thighs, making sure to not touch his erection just yet.

“Oh, I feel great. Real great. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this great,” he nodded eagerly as you cuffed each of his hands to each bedpost, getting a face full of your boobs in the process.

"You sound nervous," you teased him, "Am I making you nervous baby?"

"Me? Nervous? Pfft!"

You scoffed, not believing him one bit. "What's our safe word?" you asked him gently.

Dean leaned forward as much as his restraints would allow to press a sweet kiss against your stomach. " 'Oklahoma', baby," he grinned.

You then let your clothed ass sink down on his covered erection. Dean groaned and tried to reach for your hips instinctively only to meet the restriction of the handcuffs. “I hope they aren’t too tight 'cause they’re gonna be on there for a while,” you nearly bust out laughing at the look Dean gave you.

“A while?” he repeated, dreading not being able to touch you at a time like this.

You shrugged, “If you behave I might change my mind.”

Before he could argue further, you leaned forward and connected your lips in a searing kiss. His breath was hot against your face as your lips drifted to his neck while your hands found themselves in his hair.

A breathy groan slipped past his lips when you nipped a specific spot beneath his ear lobe. “You’re so loud. Maybe I should’ve bought a muzzle,” you whispered in his ear teasingly, feeling his dick jump beneath you at your words. “I'll remember that next time,” you replied to his body's response.

“Baby, do you have any idea how amazing you look? ” Dean gushed, struggling against his restraints as you began to grind your hips against his covered cock.

You smiled and met his lips in a kiss once again. He slipped his tongue between your welcoming lips, allowing his taste to flood your mouth. You pulled away seconds later, nipping his bottom lip, and removed yourself from his lap.

He watched nervously, awaiting your next move while you scooted farther away from him along the bed. You slowly slipped off your boots, your confidence unwavering as you held Dean’s hungry stare.

He watched you use a hand to hold yourself upright before spreading your legs open to reveal the lace thong covering your already-drenched pussy. “Are you about to..." he trailed off, jaw clenched as he spoke.

"Hmm mhm. And there is not a damn thing you can do about it...except watch," you slowly removed your thong and threw it at Dean’s lap. He immediately became hyperaware of the feeling of the wet lace draped over his dick.

You slowly brought two fingers up to your lips and sucked them even slower to coat them in your saliva and give Dean a show before bringing them down to where you needed them the most. You began slow ministrations against your aching clit, pulling moans from yourself that made Dean impossibly harder.

He took a deep breath at the sight, imagining his own fingers parting your folds and rubbing at your swollen clit.

“You are a menace,” Dean laughed in obvious distress, licking his dried lips. He couldn’t handle watching you touch yourself without being able to touch you any longer so he looked away, swallowing harshly at the sound of your wetness against your fingers.

“Look at me Dean,” you mewled, continuing to rub your pussy in small quick circles. He turned reluctantly, watching as you slowly pushed two fingers inside your dripping hole. “See this, baby? It’s all for you,” you said, melting into a moan when your fingers grazed a spot inside you that drew your orgasm closer.

“I gotta taste you, baby,” Dean pleaded, “Open these and let me taste you, please,” he rattled the handcuffs against the bedposts.

The pure agony in his voice had your fingers and breathing speeding up and soon your climax was approaching. Dean’s breathing picked up in response. “Fuck, Dean I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, pressing a thumb to your clit while your fingers kept working inside of you to bring you to the edge.

A thin layer of sweat appeared on Dean’s forehead as he watched you keenly. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, his self-control draining by the second.

Your eyes remained open and locked onto his, your moans growing louder and borderline pornographic. You were putting on a show and he was losing his mind.

“I’m cumming, fuck-“ you panted as your first orgasm of the night slammed into you and caused you to make a small mess on the sheets beneath you. Your body shook sporadically with aftershocks of your own work

Dean’s head hung low. “Jesus baby,” he huffed, his own voice strangled, “you’re trying to give me a heart attack aren’t you?”

You smiled as you crawled back up to sit on Dean’s lap, taking your thong and throwing them somewhere unseen. “Ehh maybe,” you replied coyly, straightening your hat and mask. “And since you behaved so well,” you reached a hand down to touch his clothed cock, “I think you deserve a reward,” you pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

Dean allowed you to pull his boxers off his body, watching you wrap a hand around his painfully erect cock. “Fuck,” he groaned at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him.

You slid down to where you could lay flat on your stomach between his legs and leaned down to briefly swirl your tongue around where precum was gathered at the tip.

“Take the hat off and look at me pretty girl,” Dean said.

You complied, throwing the hat off to the edge of the bed before diving down and licking his tip once again, but this time keeping your eyes locked onto his.

“Holy shit,” Dean groaned, his hips twitching upwards. You then opened your mouth and wrapped it around his length, slowly sliding down until your nose was nuzzled at the base, staying there for a few seconds before coming back up for air. “Hell yes, baby that's perfect,” he panted as you began sucking faster along his length, a few lone tears flowing from beneath the mask from the familiar stretch of his cock in your throat.

Your head continued to bob up and down Dean’s length for some time, drawing shallow moans of your name and grunts from him before you finally let up and pressed one last kiss against the side of his cock.

Dean’s chest heaved as you licked your lips and used a hand to wipe your face clean. “Goddamnit," he whined at your sudden stop, feeling his impending orgasm return to its hiding place.

You grabbed your previously discarded Zorro hat and placed it back on your head before hiking your skirt up to allow you more room to move your legs around Dean’s lap. “Can’t have you cumming before I’m done with you sweetheart,” you replied while untying the strings of your top and removing it.

The keys to the handcuffs dropped onto Dean’s lap from where you previously hid them in your top. You had honestly forgotten you put them there but it just presented yet another opportunity to get Dean all whiny and desperate, which was a rarity that you rather enjoyed.

“Oops would you look at that,” you exclaimed playfully, taking them up and dangling them in front of Dean’s eyes.

"Alright baby you broke me. Come on, just let me go, and trust me, I will make it worth your while,” Dean bargained with you.

"As enticing as that sounds," you paused and brought your hand up to caress Dean’s cheek before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. You pulled away with a grin. “I love hearing you beg, so no,” you whispered against his lips.

Dean loudly groaned watching you gently place the keys down on the closest nightstand. “Shit,” he shut his eyes.

But they shortly shot open once you used a hand to grip his length and bring it between your dripping folds.

A pleased hum left your lips once the tip glazed your clit causing Dean to swallow harshly. “Aren’t you sick of teasing me,” he hissed.

Fuck no.

You used a free hand to grip the back of his hair. “Take a deep breath for me, Dean,” you told him, feeling his chest rise against yours soon after. And as it fell, you slipped his cock inside your entrance.

You slowly sank down onto his length until it was fully buried inside you, groaning at the welcomed stretch.

“I love those sounds you make for me,” Dean whispered against your lips.

“Oh you’re gonna be making some of those sounds too,” you smirked, clenching around him causing a sharp grunt to reach your ears.

You guided your hips up and down Dean’s length, riding him at a quickening pace. He jerked his hips upward to match your cadence drawing a gasp from your lips when his cock hit that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “There you go baby,” Dean groaned, “you look so fucking good riding my cock.”

The hat and mask from your costume managed to stay in place as you slammed down on Dean’s cock repeatedly. And it was an image that he would never forget.

Your hand released Dean’s hair and instead found itself wrapped around Dean’s neck as you rode him faster. A whine that shot straight to your cunt escaped his lips when your fingers slightly tightened their grip around his throat.

You suddenly slowed down and instead began to grind your hips against his, moaning loudly when your clit grazed his pelvis. “I’m gonna cum again shit!” You threw your head back in obscene pleasure, releasing Dean's throat and holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Fuck yes. Use my cock to get off, sweetheart,” Dean urged you on before leaning forward to suck one of your nipples as best as he could.

This soon pushed you over the edge, your climax tearing a scream from within you as your hips faltered around Dean’s cock, your hat flying off your head once more. Dean relished in the way your cunt pulsed around him from your orgasm as well as the look of sheer pleasure that crossed your face at that moment. “You’re so beautiful,” he smiled up at you, meaning every word.

You kissed his forehead with a smile and reached for the handcuff keys. “I think I’ve tortured you enough,” you freed his right hand first, pressing a kiss against his wrist, then did the same to his left, “This is supposed to be a reward after all.”

Dean’s lips curved into a smirk at his newfound freedom. “Yes it is, sweetheart.”

A surprised yelp left your lips when Dean gripped your hips and flipped you onto your back. He grabbed your hat and placed it on his own head before sending you a wink. “And I’m not feeling rewarded just yet.”

You nearly came just from the sight of Dean hovering above you in only that hat. “We’re gonna have to talk about my sexy cowboy fantasy when we’re done here,” you raised a brow.

A low chuckle echoed from Dean’s chest. He reached up and tipped his hat in your direction, “yes ma’am.” He replied with a deep southern drawl.

Your pussy clenched instantly.

“That was hot as fuck,” you breathed.

“Thank you darlin’ “ he replied in the same accent with a wink.

You giggled before pulling him down for a kiss. He pulled away and touched the mask still wrapped around your eyes. “And thank you for doing this for me, baby,” he smiled down at you, “It was so so much better than I imagined.”

“It was definitely my pleasure,” you nodded happily, feeling his hands glide down your sides.

“Was?” He protested playfully. “The night is still young, sweetheart!” He threw your legs over his shoulder causing you to exclaim at the sudden move. He placed a kiss on each of your thighs and lined himself up with your entrance before entering you once again.

“FUCK” you cried out at the sudden intrusion, feeling your eyes well up with tears of pleasure in record time.

Dean pulled out and slammed into you once again, his grip on your legs tightening as he eased into a quick pace.

“YES-Dean holy shit,” you moaned, eyes quickly rolling to the back of your head and back arching up and off the bed as he fucked you with reckless abandon.

“How’s it feeling baby?” Dean said, bringing a hand down to play with your clit.

“So good, Dean, so fucking good,” you rambled, your skin buzzing with pleasure, “Harder, please, I'm almost there,” you found yourself begging.

“You gonna cum for me already pretty girl?” He sped up his slaughter on your cunt, "Maybe I should make you beg for it?" his voice was low and demeaning but only spurred you on more.

You shook your head adamantly while your hands fumbled around Dean's waist for a solid grip. So he simply released your legs and grabbed your hands before holding them down above your head, driving his cock into you even harder at this new angle.

“Dean!" you broke off into a strangled moan.

Dean’s lips attacked your open neck. “I wish we had neighbors so they could hear you screaming my fucking name,” he all but growled as the sounds of your moans and skin against skin plagued the air.

You came with a yell seconds later, your release coating Dean’s cock and the sheets. “That’s my girl. There you go baby,” he released your hands and held your face, guiding you down from your high.

Your hands gripped Dean’s hair harshly as you kissed his lips and his hips stuttered, his cum coating your insides soon after. You swallowed his grunts as his cock continued to leak and twitch inside you.

Broken pants befell both your lips in between sloppy kisses while your orgasms passed and your shared spend flowed between your legs. You eventually released his lips for air, “That was-“

“-Incredible,” he mirrored your thoughts, removing your hat from his head. Dean used a hand to remove your mask and brush a few strands of hair behind your ears once he moved to lie down beside you.

“Hi,” you grinned in awe of the man you called your husband. “Hey sweetness,” he grinned back, adoration evident in his deep green eyes.

Your cheeks flushed as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. He quickly grabbed his previously discarded t-shirt and used it to clean up the mess between your legs before throwing it in the laundry basket nearby.

You snuggled into his side once he returned to the bed.

“So uhh what was it you were saying about your cowboy kink?” Dean smugly asked after a few seconds.

“Goddamnit Dean,” you shamefully groaned into his side, gaining a chuckle from him.

ANDDD SCENE!

Hope it wasn't too bad seeing as I gave up on editing it like 75% through it.

Tbh I highly doubt more than 20 people are gonna see this because I have no idea how strong the Supernatural fandom's presence is on here, which also means that I don't know if anyone has used a plot like this one before so don't be afraid to let me know if that is the case and I will make changes as I see fit!

(Also let me know if you want a sequel one shot with sexycowboy! Dean and reader. Or feel free to make any other requests)

Reblogs, likes, and comments are ALWAYS appreciated :)

divider creds : @cafekitsune

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