#also I don't know when exactly this conversation could take place
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These questions were asked by @memoirsofasim -- Thanks for asking me these questions/giving me these suggestions.
Originally I asked about what kind of videos I could maybe make on my Sims YouTube Channel, but I couldn't really wrap my mind around it in a way that the video wouldn't become confusing or drag on. So I decided to make a post about it instead. Anyway, here goes...
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Note: I just wanted to mention these two things below for anyone who might worry about starting to write/story-tell, before I answered the questions. And also, this goes for any Sims Game not just the Sims 4.
Write Without Fear
Remember to "Write Without Fear". What I mean by that is to develop a story based off of an idea that is your own. You can for sure look for inspiration (more on what will follow in this post), but the point is to not feel as if you have to tell a story someone else is already telling or you have to tell the story in the same way someone else is telling -- or that you must modify what you're writing in order to please someone else in fear of judgement.
Write For Yourself
Remember to always "Write For Yourself" because at the end of the day, even if someone isn't reading along to your story, you're creating something that is satisfying some part of you. It could easily be something that you wish to read yourself, but can not find it in any medium (even outside of the Sims community) and so there's no where else to turn… except to yourself.
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Question: How do I find plots for my stories?
Reality / Dreams
Reality: Everyone has access to this. Whether it's lively, depressing, or somewhere between -- reality is reality.
Dreams: Sometimes you just remember your dreams and even if you can't remember the entire thing, there's something that sticks out to you that makes you remember it long after the dream. It could be something about their physical features, something you might have remembered they said, or even the colors within your dreams.
Sims Jobs / Hobbies
Are your sims working a job that aligns with their greatest passions/hobbies or are they just working to pay their bills? It doesn't matter either way, but sometimes just knowing this small thing is enough to get you to think of what they would do in their spare time and who they would do them with. Would they become members in a club? Would they share their hobbies with their family members? Would they have any enemies that could possibly lead to competition?
Spend Time With Your Sims
I don't mean in CAS. I mean literally turn your game on and put them on Free Will -- and watch them. See what object they interact with first or which Sim in their household they interact with first. See how they respond to Sims that randomly knock on their door (welcome wagon and all that jazz). Notice their experiences -- what makes them happy, what bothers them, what makes them angry. Also take notice to their speech bubbles.
Send them out into the world. Have them interact with other Sims or just place them on a public/community lot and see who they start talking to first. From there -- take notice to the speech bubbles from both your Sim and the Sim they're talking to. Take notice to your Sims mood while in conversation (or even while they're alone).
Movies and TV -- Or Books
This one hits extremely close to my longest and on-going story because that's exactly where the main character came from -- a movie.
So much of my stories stem from some favorite character of mine or some favorite actor/actress of mine that play such and such a character in something from a million years ago or to the present day -- and everything literally in-between.
My thought when leaving them behind at the movies or after watching them in a movie at home is… how can I flesh this character out? How can I give them a better personality or extend their personality? How can I imagine what their lives are like outside of the worlds they were created in?
And there is how the story builds. One thing literally leads to another.
Consistency
If you write somewhere in a chapter that your Sim is crazy about grilled cheese sandwiches -- then that Sim is crazy about grilled cheese sandwiches. The only way they'll stop being in love with grilled cheese sandwiches is if they suddenly had something happen in their lives to make them change their opinions about it. Like they've aged up and gained the lactose intolerant trait. Now -- dairy will make your Sim terribly sick.
Remembering these little things makes your Sims differ from one another, but also allows you to flesh out their personalities and with doing that will open more opportunities.
This Sim may have loved cheese and not all dairy, but guess what? They can't have any dairy anymore. How are they going to survive? Well -- they'll have to change their lifestyle as far as what they choose to eat and with that will come the mental torment that they can't just go and eat cheese like they once used to be able to so now they're in a bad mood and they're terribly jealous of every Sim that can freely eat cheese as well as all the dairy they want…
And so they begin writing in their free time, to get all of their angry and saddened emotions down -- because it helps them with all of the mental stress.
And then they decide to publish their writings and suddenly -- the grill cheese loving Sim who wanted to open a Grill Cheese Shop is now an Award Winning Novelist instead.
Who will they meet along the way? Well -- they may very well fall in love with another Sim that may or may not be lactose intolerant. If they are they have a common ground and if they don't… there's going to be a lot of differences in food options between the two which will turn into food outings needing to be a place where there's both non-dairy and dairy items on the menu.
Make it make sense -- you know what I mean?
Consider Occult Plotlines/Characters
When it's occult stories the themes usually deal with magic and fantasy and what not so I literally just make up things out of nowhere and make them make sense because it's so easy to explain something in the name of magic or fantasy. I can add whatever I want to their lives and their houses and come up with reasons for it which then lead into storylines.
That witch down the street decided she didn't want to work a real job, so she used magic to make her dream house.
Seems like a quick-telling story, but if you start to think on it more you'll think about how she's maintaining her dream home. Clearly -- she's probably an entitled personality type and even lazy, but is she someone who wants to live alone in her dream house? Will she marry? Will she have caretakers to do the gardening and the cleaning… or will she just use magic to handle all of that because she rather be left all alone?
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Question: How do you screencap for your story?
I usually know the plot before I take the screencaps, but sometimes I don't. Usually when I don't I end up taking a lot of screencaps that end up going nowhere but being deleted or they end up just as quick edits that I randomly post on my blog because the moment where I had a storyline or a new chapter I let completely pass me by (or it came out of nowhere because I turned my game on to just gameplay and suddenly everything started unfolding whether a Sim prompted me to create more chapters or because I just had something rush to me out of a moment of total imagination).
Still -- I try to remember that I have the ability to use words to continue the story just because I may not have a screencap available -- and that's okay, too.
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Mods:
This will help if you start paying more attention to the speech bubbles I mentioned above and would like more of a variety.
Diverse Speech/Thought Bubbles: here (CurseForge | modder: Sims 4 Me/bienchen)
#sims 4 storytelling#sims 4#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4 tips#sims 4 story#the sims 1#the sims 2#sims 1#sims 2#sims 3#ts1#ts2#ts3#simblr
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If Parallel Worlds weren't a thing in KHR
Mai: Wait a second, let me ask you something. If we can do this, you know, go back in time, why don't we just find baby Byakuran and... *makes strangling motion*
Shoichi: First of all, that's horrible...
Mai: It's Byakuran.
Shoichi: And secondly, time doesn't work that way. Changing the past doesn't change the future.
Mai: Look, we go back in time, we get the Trinisette before Byakuran gets them... Byakuran doesn't have the Trinisette. Problem solved.
Lal Mirch: That's not how it works.
Mai: Well, that's what I heard.
Shoichi: What? By who? Who told you that?
Mai: Star Trek, Terminator, Time Cop, Time After Time, A Wrinkle in Time, Somewhere in Time...
Spanner: Hot Tub Time Machine.
Mai: Hot Tub Time Machine, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Basically any movie that deals with time travel. This is known.
Shoichi: I don't know why everyone believes that, but it isn't true. Think about it: if you travel to the past, that past becomes your future. And your former present becomes the present. Which can't now be changed by your new future...
Lal Mirch: Exactly.
Mai: ...so Back To The Future is a bunch of bullshit?
#mai nagoya#not gonna put this into the main tag bc it's stupid#just kinda wanted everyone to know that Mai is THAT kind of nerd#also I don't know when exactly this conversation could take place#just let me be funny/weird#it could be present Mai as well as TYL Mai
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was i stupid to love you?
in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.
content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)
The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.
Not here.
Not now.
Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”
You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”
He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”
You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.
It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.
“Why didn’t you eat?”
He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”
The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.
Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”
You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”
A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You don’t want to eat anything?”
You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."
The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”
A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”
“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”
Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."
He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."
"Right. Considerate.”
There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.
“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”
You shake your head. “Nope.”
"Honey."
The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.
He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"
The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.
“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”
The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.
His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.
Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Your heels click softly as you turn.
“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.
“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”
You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.
“Honey.”
Not again.
You decide to ignore him.
“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”
You tug harder at the strap. “No.”
He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”
You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”
There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”
“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”
“I know you can. But let me—”
“I can do it myself!”
Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.
You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.
You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”
You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”
“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”
Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”
"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"
You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.
“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”
You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”
He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”
Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.
You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.
This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.
“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”
His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”
“What do you remember of it?”
There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."
“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”
His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”
“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”
There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.
A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.
“That’s not what happened."
“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."
“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”
You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”
His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."
“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”
A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.
“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”
“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”
He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”
The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”
“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."
“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"
He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"
Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.
You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.
“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.
“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”
“But you could’ve put me on there!”
The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.
“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”
Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.
“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”
Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.
“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”
Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.
“I need a minute.”
Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.
“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”
You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”
“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”
You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”
“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”
“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”
“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”
“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”
“Because I was trying to protect you!”
A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.
“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”
His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.
“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”
You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”
“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."
Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.
"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."
You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.
“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”
The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.
You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.
“You haven’t explained it to me.”
The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”
His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.
“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”
The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.
You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.
“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”
“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”
You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.
“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”
He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”
You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”
His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."
You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.
Almost.
A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"
He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."
Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”
“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”
He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."
He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.
“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”
You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.
“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”
He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”
“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”
“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”
You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.
“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"
You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.
You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.
JJ said she loved me.
Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?
Don’t worry. It’s not true.
But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.
“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”
In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.
“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
Now those words you might actually believe.
“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.
And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.
A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.
“What are you doing?”
You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.
“Tell me what you’re doing.”
Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.
You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”
His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.
“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”
You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.
“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”
There’s a sharp ache in your chest.
“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”
Your pulse ring in your ear.
“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”
“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”
“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”
He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.
“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”
“Spence…”
“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”
But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.
You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.
You feel like a fool.
“I want to go to bed.”
His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”
“I’d rather be alone.”
The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.
“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”
A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.
You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.
“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”
You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.
The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.
Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid fem!reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#angst#angst with no happy ending
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Eddie seemed to have zero impulse control when he's not actively thinking about it. After Vecna Eddie moved in with Steve because he and Wayne didn't have a new place yet, plus, Wayne was living out of a motel. It was not a place for someone with wounds like his. Also, he was still waiting to be cleared of all charges. Steve was well enough to take care of Eddie. The metalhead was still in a lot of pain and on as many painkillers as he was allowed the first time that it happened. Steve was leaning over to fluff his pillows, and his lips were close to Eddie's face. It was all Steve’s fault, really. Eddie was thinking about how pretty his lips were when he decided to grab Steve by the back of the neck.
"What are - MMHH!"
Eddie brought his lips to his, and it was the sweetest kiss that Steve had ever experienced. It had left his lips feeling all tingly. Steve could easily pass it off on the fact that Eddie was high, and that was exactly what he did do. He never brought it up or told anyone about it. . .not even Robin. He really couldn't ignore it, though, when it happened a second time.
Eddie was feeling a lot better and could move around the house a lot more. Steve had finally been able to cook dinner for the both of them after living off other people's cooking and takeout while they both healed. They had finished eating when Eddie lumbered over to him and spun him around, cupping his face.
"That was the best home-cooked meal I've ever eaten - MUAH!" Eddie exclaimed, kissing him square on the mouth. "You go settle down. I'll handle the clean-up, big boy."
Steve had frozen a little. Surely, Eddie knew what he was doing? Since he hadn't brought it up, Steve decided not to bring it up either. . .except when it happened a third time. Eddie was completely healed, and he was able to be let out of the house since he was he officially cleared of all charges. He wanted to meet up with Corroded Coffin at Gareth's since they refused to come over to Steve's house despite the fact that Steve had told them they were welcome anytime. Even though he understood where they were coming from, it still stung that they refused to even try to get to know him. Anyways, Eddie was on his way out the door except for the fact that his keys were lying on the counter.
"Hey, did you forget something?" Steve asked.
"Oh, right," Eddie said, twirled around and kissed him while scooping up the keys. Then he was gone.
Okay, he really couldn't ignore it this time. Steve really needed to talk to someone about the kisses and about how much he liked them. He needed to know what that meant, and he knew exactly what kind of conversation this would turn out to be.
"Eddie keeps kissing me," Steve said as soon as Robin got in the car.
"I'm sorry, what?" Robin said, blinking.
"You know how Eddie's really affectionate," Steve replied. "Does it bother you when he kisses you?"
"Oh, you mean like kissing on the forehead and the cheek? No, I think it's sweet, actually," Robin said and rolled her eyes. "Are you feeling a little insecure in your masculinity because a man is getting a little affectionate with you?"
"What?! No, I don't mind getting affection from a man, Robin. You know I hug Argyle all the time," Steve said. "I'm just wondering why Eddie kisses me on the mouth and he doesn't do that with anyone else."
"Stop the car!" Robin screamed, and Steve pulled over the side, parking the car.
"Jesus, Robin!" Steve exclaimed.
"Eddie's been kissing you on the MOUTH?!" Robin asked.
"Yeah. He doesn't do that with you?" Steve asked.
"No, I think that's a treat only for you," Robin said.
"But why? We're both straight," Steve said. "I mean, I'm not trying to complain or anything, it's nice but why is he doing it?"
"You like it when he kisses you?" Robin asked.
"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "If I were into men, I'd be asking him on a date, but I'm not gay, Robin. . .well, maybe just for Eddie. Is it possible to be gay just for one person?"
"I mean, maybe, but I doubt that it's the case here," Robin said. "Usually, I would probably let you figure this out for yourself, but considering how long you kept it hidden that you like Nancy Drew, it might just take a while. . .do I have permission to rip off the band-aid?"
"Uh, yeah. I guess," Steve asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh, how the hell were you so sure about Vickie and completely clueless about yourself?" Robin asked.
"Are you still on it that I totally called it about Vickie being a lesbian before you did?" Steve asked.
"She's not a lesbian, dingus," Robun said.
"Okay, I was pretty sure that you two were dating. Robin, she's clearly into you, so I'm pretty sure you have a shot," Steve said.
"Yeah, we are dating but she's not a lesbian," she said.
"I'm so confused," Steve said.
"In more ways than one," Robin said.
"Robin, we're going to be late for work," Steve said.
"Vickie is a bisexual," Robin said. "She likes more than one gender."
"Oh. . .oh, like David Bowie!" Steve exclaimed. "Right?!"
"Right," Robin said.
"Oh my god!" Steve said. "My Tom Cruise obsession suddenly makes sense - I didn't want to be him - "
"Not to mention, all those times you've stared openly at Eddie along with his posters of Eddie Van Halen and Kirt Hammel. . . "
"Kirk Hammett, Robin," Steve scoffed. "Eddie would rip you a new one for getting that one wrong."
"But you knew it because Eddie did," Robin said.
"I like him," Steve said with wide eyes.
"Yeah, buddy. Are you going to need a minute?" Robin said.
"Nah, I'm fine. I actually feel really good about it," Steve grinned.
"Not even a little freak out?" She asked.
"Nope!"
"Lucky bitch," Robin muttered.
"I'm sorry, the next time I have a realization about myself, I'll make sure to give you the freak out that you deserve," Steve said.
"That's all I'm asking," Robin said.
They spent the morning shift talking about Eddie and what he'd say to him once he got home. Steve debated on giving him flowers or not, or a stuff animal. He decided on a stuffed animal because that was more permanent, as Robin had pointed out. They were just about to take their break for lunch when Eddie strolled in.
"Hey," Steve said brightly. "I was just thinking about you."
"Yeah?" Eddie asked and leaned against the counter. "That's good to know."
Eddie leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. This time, Steve responded to it, cupping Eddie's face as he deepened the kiss. He could feel Eddie smile against his lips. Steve heard Robin scrambling to lock the front door and close the newly installed blinds. Eddie wrapped his arms around him, nearly climbing over the counter to do it. Finally, Robin coughed loudly and they broke apart.
"Hi," Steve said breathlessly.
"Hi," Eddie said. "I got something for you."
He climbed over the counter and sat down in front of him. He pulled out a rock and handed it to Steve.
"It looks like a guitar pick," Steve said with a grin.
"I thought you could use it for good luck," Eddie said.
"That's very sweet, thank you," Steve said, blushing. "I'm going to keep it forever."
"So, your boyfriend did good?" Eddie asked.
"Boyfriend?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, I know we're taking things slow, but I was hoping that you'd consider me being your boyfriend," Eddie said.
"Yeah, uh, it's just - it might be the concussions, but I don't remember asking you out or you asking me out," Steve said.
"Oh, you definitely asked me out," Eddie said.
"Oh, God, Robin. The doctor said if I started having memory problems - " Steve said with wide eyes. "I'd definitely remember asking you out."
"Honey! I'm sure it's fine!" Eddie exclaimed. "Robin was there, she'll tell you!"
"I was NOT!" Robin yelled, her eyes going wide. "Or was I? Oh, god, what if I hit my head and I don't remember?! I'd remember my best friend asking out a man!"
"Okay, don't panic, Robin, we'll call Hopper - " Steve started to say.
"You really don't remember?!" Eddie shrieked.
"No!" Robin and Steve yelled.
"Seriously, Robin, you were there, and you turned into a giant duck which, by the way, is rude because you know about my fear of ducks!" Eddie yelled.
"Oh, Eddie, goddamnit, was this a dream?" Steve asked.
"You know what? Now that I'm thinking about it, I think it might have been a dream," Eddie said.
"Okay, those looks you've been giving me make a lot more sense," Robin said. "Have you been living in fear of me randomly turning into a duck, like I'm some sort of. . .wereduck?"
"I don't know, your name's Robin, and we've all been through crazy shit. . .anything is possible," Eddie said.
"Aww, and you've hugged me even though you're scared of ducks," Robin cooed.
"Well, it's my fear, my responsibility. It's not your fault," Eddie said and then looked at her. "But you're not, though, right?"
"No, Eddie," she said softly and then affectionately, "You dingus."
"This whole time. . .," Eddie trailed off. "We haven't actually been dating. You never asked me out."
Eddie started to scramble off of the counter when Steve grabbed him and pulled him back.
"Let's fix that. . .Eddie Munson, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Steve asked.
"Fuck yeah, I do," Eddie grinned.
He grabbed the back of Steve’s head and crashed their lips together. Eddie sighed and leaned his forehead against Steve’s.
"No one better fucking wake me up," Eddie breathed and Steve laughed.
"Oh God! I think my nose is turning into a bill - quack, quack!"
"Robin!"
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi4bi#idiot4idiot#dingus4dingus#bi as hell bi the way#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#robin & steve#platonic stobin#platonic soulmates#platonic with a capital p#robin & eddie#platonic reddie#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes
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Bf!Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons
Pairing: Boyfriend!Nam-gyu x fem!reader (No Squid Game AU)
Warnings: Mention of drug use/withdrawal, other than that it's just fluff (maybe a teeny tiny bit of angst), not proof read (english isn't my first language)
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you met at the club he worked at during a night out with your friends. He took one look at you and knew he was in love immediately — Your makeup, your dress, your hair, that you spent hours trying to style it, just everything about you was perfect. He genuinely had to stop what he was doing for a second to get his thoughts straight.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who just couldn't help but give you drinks on the house, trying to make small talk with you. The music was loud, blaring out of the speakers not far away from the bar, but he didn't need to hear you. For him, it was enough to see you up close, to see you smile and laugh at his cheesy attempts at pick-up lines. He laughed along, trying to overplay his nervousness, which didn't quite work.
જ⁀➴ It wouldn't have been the first time that Boyfriend!Nam-gyu took a girl back home with him that he met at his work, but you were different. He wasn't staring at your body, looking down your cleavage when talking to him, no, he was actually interested in getting to know you. During your short conversation, he could just tell how kind and lighthearted you were. After all, not every girl would entertain his flirting.
જ⁀➴ After a few times seeing you around the club again, Boyfriend!Nam-gyu had secured your phone number, which you wrote down on his hand with a little heart next to it. You couldn't exactly tell why you liked him this much, hut he was weirdly charming and appreciated the fact that he wanted to take you out on a proper date some time. He was cute, you couldn't deny that, so you took up on his offer.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who stayed true to his word and texted you right after his shift, setting up a date and time for a meeting outside his workplace. He already had everything thought out in his head, perhaps even imagining little scenarios about you before falling asleep.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who could now actually introduce himself as your boyfriend after a couple of dates, long phone calls and deep talks late at night when you'd stay over at his place. The two of you had developed a strong bond in no time, finding out that you had more in common than you first thought. And, in your opinion, he was the best partner you could wish for. Nam-gyu was attentive, always noticed if you felt bad and cheered you up, funny.. what wasn't there to love about him?
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you helped get clean and also get a better job. The first few weeks of withdrawal weren't the easiest on him nor your relationship, but you absolutely made it work. You'd comfort him during a breakdown, wiping his tears away for him and hold him against your chest. Your nails would scrape the back of his neck, making him let out a shaky sigh.
"I'm.. sorry about that, baby-" Nam-gyu sniffled, taking a deep breath before looking up at you. "There's nothing you have to apologize for," you replied back, a bit shocked about the fact that he would think he needed to say sorry for crying. "I'm here for you, okay? I love you, don't forget that."
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would frequently buy you your favorite flowers. You'd always ask him what the occasion was and he'd always just shrug, claiming that he didn't need an occasion or a reason to maks you happy.
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would try to help you while baking something, but would mess everything up he was involved with. Cookies came out burnt, brownies didn't fully bake through.. whatever it was, it just didn't work out. But, you two had fun while doing it and that was all that mattered. Well, not all the time maybe (you reaaaaally wanted those chocolate chip cookies).
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who kisses you awake every morning, even if you could sleep in. Whenever he has to wake up before you, he'd pepper kisses all over your face, partially to also annoy you.
You slowly opened your eyes at the feeling of Nam-gyu's lips against your, turning your head away from him. He laughed and tried to lean over to give you another, but you weren't having it. "Leave me alone!" you blurted out, eyes still closed and all.
"Jesus, can't I kiss my girlfriend goodbye anymore?"
"No."
"Why? What did I do?"
"I hate you."
"Good morning to you too, princess."
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game season 2#squid games x reader#squid game x reader#nam gyu squid game#nam gyu x reader#player 124 x reader#player 124#squid games#nam gyu
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not yours part 1
summary: Rafe Cameron is the perfect boyfriend… but not yours, but Sofia’s. However, fate plays against you when you become the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments. What begins as a dangerous friendship soon becomes an attraction impossible to deny.
warnings: nothing for now
word counter: 9203
author’s note: english is not my first language
In the eyes of the Kooks, you were always a Pogue. You could have perfectly coiffed hair, impeccable clothes, and an air of confidence that many of them envied, but no matter how hard you tried, you were still one of “the others.” After all, you were born and raised on the other side of the island, where the houses were small, the streets dusty, and the rules of etiquette didn’t exist.
But that never stopped you. You always wanted more, you wanted to stand out, to shine as if the invisible line that divided the island didn’t exist for you. You liked being the center of attention, being the girl who walked into a party and made everyone turn to look at you. It was part of who you were. It entertained you, it filled you with energy. And maybe, deep down, you enjoyed a little bit of the scandal that a Pogue caused trying to be more than that.
The first time you met Sofia was at one of those parties that the Kooks organized on the beach. You arrived late, as usual, but perfect. The tight black dress you had chosen highlighted every curve. You made sure every hair was in place and that your makeup highlighted your eyes impeccably.
You saw her alone, sitting in a corner, with a half-finished drink in her hand. She didn't seem comfortable in that place, as if she was out of place. Maybe that was what caught your attention. Unlike other girls, Sofia didn't seem to desperately want to fit in. There was something authentic about her, something that intrigued you.
"What are you doing here alone?" you asked her as you sat down next to her. Your tone was casual, as if you had known her all your life.
Sofia looked up and smiled at you, shy but warm.
"I don't know... I think this isn't my place."
"Well, sometimes, what we think isn't our place ends up being the best place of all," you answered, and without waiting for an invitation, you stayed there.
From that night on, you and Sofia became inseparable. She was quieter, more reserved, but that worked. Your explosive energy was complemented by her calm, and soon you were doing everything together: from afternoons on the beach to nighttime escapades to places where the Kooks didn’t dare to go.
It was inevitable that Sofia began to integrate more into your world. But she also began to enter theirs. Maybe too much.
The first time she told you she was dating Rafe Cameron, you felt like the world stopped for a moment.
“Rafe Cameron?” you repeated in disbelief as you looked in the mirror, touching up your eyeliner.
You were in your room, getting ready for another party. The air smelled of perfume and freshly opened makeup. Sofia was sitting on your bed, nervously playing with the hem of her dress.
“Yeah… I know he’s not exactly the kind of guy you like.”
He wasn’t. He never was. Rafe Cameron was the perfect definition of everything you despised about the Kooks. Arrogant, controlling, with that air of superiority that drove you crazy. And although you didn't say it openly, you knew he looked at you with disdain every time you coincided somewhere. As if you were usurping a space that didn't belong to you.
You took a deep breath, adjusting the necklace that adorned your neck, and decided not to say what you really thought.
“If it makes you happy… then fine.”
Sofia looked at you with a mix of relief and gratitude. You knew how much your opinion mattered to her, and you weren’t going to be the one to take that happiness away from her, even though something inside you told you it wasn’t going to end well.
Later that night the party was at its highest point. Music was booming from the speakers, laughter and conversations mixed with the sound of the sea gently lapping against the shore. The dim lights and strategically placed torches gave an almost magical air to the private beach where the Kooks were celebrating once again. Everything was perfect, at least in appearance.
You were there, as always, impeccable. Every accessory was in its place, every strand of your hair perfectly arranged, and your smile was as dazzling as ever.
But from the moment you walked through the door, Sofia was glued to Rafe Cameron.
He was leaning against one of the makeshift bars, a bottle of beer in his hand and that cocky grin he never seemed to be able to erase. Sofia, beside him, looked different. More radiant, perhaps, but also more… restrained. As if he somehow controlled her every move.
It bothered you. You couldn’t help it. You had arrived expecting to spend the night together, like you used to before Rafe came into the equation. But there she was, practically glued to him, laughing at his comments, looking at him as if the rest of the party didn’t exist.
You sipped a glass of white wine and forced yourself to smile when a couple of acquaintances came over to say hello. You chatted, laughed, and pretended you didn’t care. Because at the end of the day, you understood. He was her boyfriend. If you had one, you’d probably do the same. If you had a Rafe Cameron who looked at you like you were the only important thing in the world, you wouldn’t leave him alone either.
Still, you couldn’t help the pang of discomfort that settled in your chest every time you saw them together. It was like Sofia was slowly disappearing into Rafe’s shadow.
Someone offered you a drink, and you accepted with a flirtatious smile, because that was what you did. You always knew how to have fun, how to attract glances, how to make sure no one noticed that something was bothering you.
But as the night progressed, you realized that your eyes kept returning to them. To Rafe, who had his arm around her as if to make it clear that she belonged to him. To Sofia, who didn’t seem to notice anyone else.
“Are you going to stay there all night, or are you going to dance?” a boy’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned around and recognized him by sight. A Kook, of course, one of those who always tried to get close to you when you were alone.
You smiled at him, playful.
“What if I tell you that I prefer to stay here?”
He laughed, but insisted.
“Come on, I promise you'll have fun.”
You hesitated for a second, your eyes looking back at Sofia. She was still glued to Rafe, oblivious to everything else.
“Okay” you finally agreed, putting your drink aside. “Let's see if it's true.”
You went out onto the dance floor and let yourself go. Because if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was enjoy the moment, at least in appearance. You danced, you laughed, you let the music envelop you. But every time you turned, every time you moved to the rhythm of the music, you could feel Rafe's gaze on you. It was a strange, uncomfortable feeling.
For an instant, your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, cold, as if he were evaluating you. It wasn't the first time he did it. He always seemed to observe you that way, as if he wanted to remind you that you didn't belong in his world, that you were nothing more than an intruder.
But you didn't give him the pleasure of looking away. You held his gaze, defiant, with a smile on your lips, as if you didn't care in the least what he thought. Because at the end of the day, if you had learned anything, it was not to show weakness.
The music continued, the lights continued to flicker, and the night continued.
When the music began to slow down and tiredness settled in your body, you decided that it was enough for that night. You had danced, drank, and smiled enough to keep up appearances. You looked once more to where Sofia and Rafe were, still together, as if the rest of the party didn't exist.
You sighed, resigned. It wasn't your place to interrupt that moment. You knew that if you came closer, Sofia would want you to stay, but honestly, you had no energy left to keep pretending that everything was fine.
"See you tomorrow," you murmured to a couple of acquaintances as you left. No one stopped you, because they knew that when you decided to leave, there was nothing that would make you change your mind.
You took the path to your house, enjoying the fresh air that calmed the heat accumulated on your skin. The silence of the night welcomed you with open arms, and it didn't take long for you to slip under the sheets, leaving behind the noise, the lights, and the discomfort that had followed you throughout the evening.
The next morning, your phone rang earlier than expected. Sofia.
"Good morning," you said hoarsely, still half asleep.
"Good morning," she answered, with an energy that made you frown. "Are you awake?"
“Now yes. What's up?”
“I'm at Rafe's house. I thought you could come. There's a pool, some food... We could spend the day here.”
You bit your lower lip, hesitating for a second. The idea of spending the day at Rafe's house wasn't exactly your ideal plan. The Cameron house had always seemed more like a display of power than a home. Every corner was designed to impress, to make it clear that they were the pinnacle of the Kooks. And although you knew how to move in that environment, it wasn't your favorite place.
“Sure, give me some time to get ready and I'll go.”
“Perfect. I'll wait for you.”
You hung up the phone and stood up slowly, stretching your arms over your head as you thought about what to wear.
You opted for a long, light white dress, which highlighted your tan and fell perfectly. You chose a white bikini as well, simple but elegant. You made sure your hair was styled to perfection, letting some soft waves fall to frame your face.
A touch of natural makeup, just enough to highlight your eyes and lips, but not over the top. You chose a small bag, where you kept the essentials: sunscreen, sunglasses, and your phone.
You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror, adjusting the dress and the necklace that discreetly glistened on your collarbone.
You grabbed your keys, placed your sunglasses on your head, and left the house.
When you arrived, Sofia ran out to greet you before you could knock on the door, her radiant smile lighting up her face.
“You’re here!” she said excitedly, extending her arms towards you.
“Of course I do!” you replied with an equally wide smile as you walked over to hug her.
The hug was warm and genuine. Sofia had always had that energy that made you feel welcome, like everything else disappeared when you were together. She pulled away slightly to look at you.
“You look amazing.”
“You do too,” you said sincerely, noticing how her face glowed despite the simplicity of her outfit. “You always look good when you’re happy, though.”
Sofia blushed a little and laughed softly. You knew exactly why she was so happy. You didn’t have to be an expert at reading gestures to figure it out: Rafe.
“Come on, we’re in the back,” she said, taking you by the arm and leading you to the pool.
They walked through the house until they reached the spacious backyard. The pool sparkled in the sun, surrounded by lounge chairs, umbrellas, and luxurious furniture. Everything was perfectly arranged, as if they had taken the scene from a magazine.
And there he was.
He was sitting by the pool, a beer in his hand, sunglasses covering his eyes. He looked carefree, like the whole world revolved around him. His hair perfectly combed, body relaxed but always in control.
Your eyes met his for a brief second as you crossed the garden. His gaze was cold, distant, as always.
“Hi, Rafe,” you said in a polite tone, keeping the smile light.
He barely raised his hand in a vague greeting, not even bothering to take off his glasses.
“Hey.”
Nothing more. A short, dry greeting, as if you were there out of mere courtesy. Then, he turned his attention back to the conversation he was having with one of his friends, as if your presence was insignificant.
You expected it. Rafe had never treated you with more than minimal courtesy, and that was when he felt like it.
You took a deep breath and turned to Sofia, who didn’t seem to notice her boyfriend’s coldness.
“Come on, I’ll show you where to put your stuff,” Sofia said excitedly, leading you to one of the lounge chairs.
After you put all your stuff down, Sofia spoke to you again.
“Come on, let’s go to the pool,” Sofia said, pulling you by the hand. “It’s hot, and the water is perfect.”
You nodded and took off your white dress, revealing the bikini you had chosen so carefully.
The afternoon passed more peacefully than you had anticipated. The sun bathed the pool in a golden glow, and the soft music coming from the strategically placed speakers made everything seem like something out of a postcard. You and Sofia spent hours laughing, swimming, and enjoying the cold drinks you had brought. At times, the awkwardness that had accompanied you upon arrival seemed to fade away.
Rafe and his friends were nearby, but they kept their distance, busy in their own bubble of conversations.
At some point, Sofia stood up.
“I’m going inside to get something to eat.” Do you want me to get you something?
“No, I’m fine,” you replied with a smile. You didn’t want to move. The sun, the water, and the atmosphere had relaxed you more than you expected. Sofia gave you a quick smile before disappearing through the sliding door into the house.
You were left alone, enjoying the moment. The cold glass in your hand, the soft murmur of the water in the pool, and the warmth of the sun on your skin. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the tranquility envelop you.
However, that calm was interrupted when you felt a slight tug on your hair. You frowned, opening your eyes. You had leaned against one of the umbrellas, and without realizing it, one of the fringes at the edge of the fabric had become entangled in your hair. You pulled gently, trying to free it, but it didn’t work. The lock of hair was still firmly caught.
You sighed, frustrated. Normally, Sofia would be there to help you in a second, but now she wasn't. You tried once more, this time with a little more force, but you only managed to get it more tangled.
"Perfect..." you murmured sarcastically, resigned to waiting for Sofia to return.
"Trouble?"
The male voice, low and slightly amused, startled you. Rafe.
He was a few steps away from you, with his hands in his pockets and that expression on his face that seemed to mix boredom with curiosity. He was watching you with those cold blue eyes that had always made you nervous, as if he was entertained by your little fight with the umbrella.
"Nothing I can't handle," you said quickly, trying to keep control. You didn't want to give him the pleasure of thinking you needed help. You gently tugged on the lock of hair again, but it still wouldn't come loose.
"Yeah, sure. You're handling it perfectly," he replied in a sarcastic tone, as he moved a little closer.
You looked at him, trying to keep your composure.
“Sofia will be here in a minute, don’t worry.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, stopping right in front of you. The proximity made your skin crawl slightly.
“Or I can help you.”
For a moment, you were tempted to turn him down again. The idea of accepting Rafe Cameron’s help was… strange. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person to selflessly offer help. But the reality was that Sofia would probably take a little longer, and you didn’t want to be stuck there anymore, humiliating yourself in front of him.
You sighed, reluctantly giving in.
“Okay… but don’t make it worse.”
“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
That’s exactly what worries me, you thought. But you didn’t say anything.
Rafe moved behind you, and you felt his hands move closer to your hair. His fingers were surprisingly deft and precise, touching just enough to untangle the trapped lock of hair. You were surprised by how gently he worked, without tugging or causing pain. His closeness was undeniable, and for an instant, you were aware of the warmth of his body, the faint scent of mint, and something else you couldn’t quite place.
“Almost…” he murmured as his fingers slid through the last knot. Finally, the lock of hair came free.
You pulled away slightly, turning to face him.
“Thank you.”
He simply nodded, wearing that neutral expression he always seemed to carry with him. Before he could say anything else, you pointed towards one of the lounge chairs.
“Can you pass me the brooch I left there?”
Rafe calmly walked over to the lounge chair, picked up the small white brooch, and handed it to you. There were no snide comments or haughty looks this time. It was strange.
“Thanks again,” you said as you pinned your hair back, trying to ignore the slight nervousness the interaction had left you with.
“You’re welcome.”
And that was it. No more words, no lingering stares. Rafe returned to his spot by the pool, as if nothing had happened. You stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. There was something about his expression that didn’t fit with the image you had of him.
But you decided not to think about it too much.
Then the night came faster than you had expected. The party at the Camerons’ continued, but the atmosphere was much more relaxed. The pool lights created a soft glow over the water, reflecting the stars that were beginning to peek out in the night sky. You and Sofia retreated from the hustle and bustle of the party, looking for a respite.
“That was great, wasn’t it?” Sofia said, her voice filled with an energy that couldn’t be hidden.
You nodded as you walked over to one of the chairs near the pool, sitting down to enjoy the cool night air.
“Yeah, it was fun. Although, you know, always a little awkward with… some of the Kooks,” you replied, glancing sideways at Rafe, who was still talking to his friends in the distance.
Sofia laughed softly, as if those social tensions didn’t affect her as much as they did you. For her, being with Rafe was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re staying, right?” Sofia asked, with an eager look, as if she needed to hear the affirmative answer.
You didn’t know what Sofia had in mind for the next day, but her excitement was contagious. You looked at Rafe from a distance, and although you didn’t say it out loud, you knew that if Sofia asked you for something, you would do it.
“Sure, why not?” “I want you to come with us tomorrow,” you replied, though a small spark of doubt lit up inside you. What exactly were they going to do the next day?
“Perfect,” Sofia said with a satisfied smile, as if she had achieved what she wanted. She then leaned slightly towards you, lowering her voice. “I want you to come with us tomorrow. Rafe is going to go racing on his motorcycle. He said he has no problem with you staying the night, if that’s okay with you. Would you like to join us tomorrow?”
You sat there thoughtfully for a moment. The idea of spending another day with Rafe, back in his world of privilege, seemed strange to you. But it was also hard for you to say no to Sofia, especially when you saw how excited she was.
“Okay. What does it matter?” you replied, resigned to the idea of spending the day with them.
The next morning came quickly, and the sun was already rising high when you woke up. The Cameron house was quiet at that hour, with most people still sleeping after the party the night before. When you checked your bag, you realized you didn't have anything suitable for what Sofia had proposed. The shorts and the t-shirt with the embroidery seemed like a comfortable option, but nothing too dressed up.
Sofia walked into the room you had stayed in, seeing that you were still getting organized.
"Are you ready?" she asked with her usual enthusiasm.
"Almost. I just... don't have anything to wear," you mentioned, looking at the clothes you had brought, a little out of place for a motorcycle ride.
"Don't worry!" Sofia said with a mischievous smile. "I'll lend you something. Those shorts are fine, you just need a comfortable t-shirt, right?"
Before you could answer, Sofia turned around and pulled a white t-shirt out of her closet. It wasn't anything over the top, but the edge of the t-shirt was adorned with small floral embroidery. Which might look plain, but it looked incredibly nice.
"Here, this should fit you well," she said as she handed you the t-shirt.
You looked at her, grateful, as you put it on. The fabric was soft and cool, something you needed for the morning heat. Then, you pulled on your shorts, arranged your hair the best way you could, and looked at yourself in the mirror.
When you left the room, Sofia was already ready, her hair perfectly coiffed and her energy bubbling.
“Let’s go!” she said, running towards the door. There was no way you could cope with her enthusiasm.
The two of you headed to the beach, where Rafe was already there, next to his bike. It was a sight in itself. Rafe’s bike, shiny and almost imposing looking, contrasted with his relaxed stance, as if the bike was an extension of him.
Rafe glanced at you briefly when you arrived, his expression somewhat unreadable.
The race began with a roar, and the feeling of speed on Rafe’s bike was electrifying. The wind whipped through your face as the sound of the engine mixed with the adrenaline in the air. Rafe was incredibly focused, and Sofia was smiling non-stop.
As you continued down the road, you realized how skilled Rafe was. Every turn was taken with astonishing precision, and his ability to maneuver the bike quickly was evident. You and Sofia shared excited glances, both shouting words of encouragement, though you knew the real show was watching him.
Finally, when the finish line was in sight, Rafe hit the gas. The bike roared as it took the final turn, and it wasn't long before he crossed the finish line with an undisputed victory.
You and Sofia burst into cheers, though it was clear that Rafe's victory was what really mattered to her. She looked proud, and with good reason. Rafe had won in impeccable fashion, and the feeling of excitement was palpable.
Sofia stepped forward to hug him, while you stayed a step behind, observing the moment. Rafe's face reflected satisfaction. He didn't seem surprised by the victory, as if it was something expected.
You stared at Rafe for a moment, observing his relaxed face as he talked to Sofia about the race, but you quickly decided to leave those thoughts behind. There was something in his attitude that didn't quite fit, and you knew it wasn't worth wasting time on things that didn't make sense. The excitement of the day had already reached its peak, and you preferred to enjoy the moment.
You turned around, looking at Sofia, who had already begun to plan what they would do next.
"Let's celebrate!" Sofia said enthusiastically, interrupting your brief moment of introspection.
It wasn't an invitation, but an affirmation, and before you could respond, she had already taken you by the hand, gently pulling you towards where the others were. The celebratory atmosphere was in full swing: loud music, laughter, and an air of satisfaction permeating everything around them. When they arrived, everyone was there, enjoying Rafe's triumph, and even though you weren't part of that inner circle, you couldn't help but be swept up in the energy emanating from them.
You sat next to Sofia on one of the lounge chairs by the pool, watching as people gathered around Rafe to congratulate him. The way he accepted the congratulations, calm and almost distant, seemed so natural to you, as if he was already used to being the center of attention. But something in you told you it wasn't that simple. There was an invisible barrier between you and him, as if the distance wasn't just physical, but emotional as well.
But that night, you decided to let it be. You sat there, enjoying Sofia's company, and without thinking too much about it, you began to soak in the atmosphere.
People started moving towards the dance floor, the music was getting livelier, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Sofia, still full of energy, looked at you with a knowing smile.
“Shall we dance?” she asked, without waiting for an answer, already getting up from the lounger.
You stood up after her, feeling that, at least for that night, you should enjoy yourself without thinking too much about anything else. Somehow, by surrounding yourself with the happiness of Sofia and the others, the feeling of awkwardness began to fade.
The day continued with a festive atmosphere, the music vibrating in the air. You and Sofia had completely let loose, laughing and dancing without a care, until suddenly Rafe approached her. On his face was a subtle smile, one of those smiles that you only see when someone has a deep connection with another person.
“Dance?” he said to Sofia, and she was quick to smile, her eyes shining.
You watched them as they glided to the center of the dance floor, their bodies moving to the beat of the music as if they were one. Something inside you, a mix of admiration and envy, stirred. There was something about the way Rafe looked after Sofia that made you think you might have misjudged him. After all, not everyone was willing to show that kind of tenderness in public. Maybe Rafe wasn't as cold as you had initially thought.
You stared for a moment, but you didn't let yourself get caught up in those emotions. You decided not to think about it too much. Instead of just standing there watching, you let yourself go with the energy of the party and joined one of Rafe's friends who was nearby. He was outgoing and not afraid to chat, so the conversation flowed naturally.
You laughed, you enjoyed yourself, and everything kept moving forward without your mind stopping on the images of Sofia and Rafe. But when you looked at yourself, you noticed something that worried you: the way that, with each encounter, you began to see more clearly how attentive Rafe and Sofia could be to each other. It wasn’t just a physical attraction, but something deeper, a connection you hadn’t anticipated. There was an understanding between them, something that seemed to flow effortlessly. And that, somehow, bothered you more than you wanted to admit.
Days passed, and as time went on, you started to see yourself closer and closer to them. Outings became common, and although at first you were a kind of guest in their circle, little by little you began to feel like you were part of it. You saw yourself walking along the beach with them, sharing laughs while watching Rafe throw out a sarcastic joke that made you laugh like never before. The atmosphere between the group was relaxed, fun, and you seemed to fit in perfectly. Almost as well as if you were one of the Kooks, as if you had always been part of that life.
But something kept nagging at your head, a small knot in your stomach that kept growing. You realized that every time Rafe and Sofia looked at each other or subtly touched each other, a pang of jealousy ran through your body. How had you not noticed that before? How had you not seen how happy it made Sofia just to have him by her side? It was like a spark always surrounded them, and you wanted to be a part of that, of that security and affection that was evident on the surface.
You thought to yourself that maybe, just maybe, you had misjudged him. Rafe wasn't just the arrogant boy you had met at the beginning. There was something about his attitude towards Sofia that made you question everything you thought about him. You could see how he cared for her, how he took his time to make sure she was comfortable, how his eyes always looked for her in the middle of the crowd.
One afternoon, when everyone was on a terrace, and Rafe had approached to offer you a drink, you realized how much your perception of him had changed. There was a softness in his gaze, one you hadn't noticed before, and although it was something that confused you, you also admired it. You felt foolish for having kept yourself distant all this time, and a little jealous too, because deep down you knew you wanted something like that for yourself.
However, you just smiled and thanked him for the drink, not saying anything about what you were really thinking. It was easy to look at everything from the outside, but much harder to deal with what you felt on the inside. You were surrounded by friends, but the small discomfort you felt in your chest never completely went away. You wondered if you could ever be as lucky as Sofia, if you would ever find something that made you feel as alive and safe.
That same day at night, after several hours of laughter, music, and drinks, the atmosphere at Rafe’s house was still lively. Sofia, as always, was in her element, enjoying the company of the two of you, but you already felt the energy starting to drain away. You had drunk more than you thought, and although it wasn’t enough to lose control, you did start to feel fatigue building up in your body.
“I’m going to sleep,” you said to Sofia, who looked at you with a cheerful smile.
“Sure, honey. The room is ready for you. Get some rest” he answered, still smiling.
You walked towards the stairs as you entered the halls of the house. It was a large and luxurious space, and the room you used when you stayed there was decorated with sophisticated details.
But before you reached the room, suddenly, you ran into Rafe. He was coming down the stairs, with a glass in his hand, apparently in a good mood, without the arrogant air he used to have. He stopped when he saw you and, as if he hadn't seen you coming, both of you collided a little. It was a strange moment: your body brushed against his, almost as if you were going to trip, but you managed to keep your balance with difficulty. However, what really made you feel uncomfortable was the look you exchanged. The air between the two of you became heavy for a moment, as if something had happened unintentionally.
Rafe, with a knowing smile on his face, was quick to let out a small laugh, as if he found the situation funny, and that only increased your discomfort. Your face instantly flushed, and for a second you thought you had gotten yourself into one of those awkward situations you always try to avoid.
“Wow, I didn’t see you coming,” he said, still with that carefree smile. His tone wasn’t mocking, but somehow his laugh felt like mockery.
Your mind raced and you didn’t know how to react, you just muttered something that didn’t make much sense, like an “I’m sorry” or an “excuse me,” and without thinking much, you rushed to the bedroom. The door closed behind you, and you instantly felt the awkwardness take over you. You lay down on the bed, covering your face with your hands and thinking about how you had handled the situation.
For a moment, you stood there, trying to calm your breathing, but Rafe's laughter still echoed in your head. You knew it hadn't been anything serious, but still, something about his attitude made you feel like you'd made a mistake by being so close to him. Why did it have that effect on you? The thought of being so close, in such a strange situation, didn't leave you calm.
In the end, you just sank into the comfort of the bed, trying to drown out the uncomfortable thoughts.
The next morning you woke up at dawn, although the sun hadn't yet reached its highest point. You felt a little disoriented at first, the echo of the laughter from the night before still echoing in your head, mixed with the feeling of discomfort that the encounter with Rafe had left you with. But, in the end, you got up the courage to get up and made yourself comfortable a little. You changed into something more comfortable but decent: a simple t-shirt and some shorts. You wanted to dress casually, but you also knew that it wasn't the time to be disheveled.
You walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen. The house was quiet, as if everyone was still deep in their rest after the night. You decided to sit in one of the chairs, looking at the soft lights that filtered through the window, observing the garden that stretched outside. Everything was so quiet that it brought you peace.
You were waiting for Sofia, you knew that she would soon appear, probably with a dazzling smile and something interesting to tell, but time passed and it wasn't her who appeared. Instead of Sofia, it was Rafe who entered the kitchen. At first you didn't notice him at all, but when you looked up, your eyes met his. He was still wearing the shirt he had worn the night before. Rafe looked at you with a slight smile, as if nothing strange had happened the night before.
"Good morning," he said, his voice low and calm.
You felt a knot in your stomach, and without thinking about it too much, shame washed over you again. You remembered what had happened the night before: the laughter, the unexpected shock, how uncomfortable you had felt. You blushed and, with a sigh, decided to talk about it, as a way to let go of what was weighing you down.
“Hey, Rafe... I'm sorry about last night,” you said quickly, not knowing if it was really necessary, but you needed to get those words out. You felt stupid for having created such silly tension, but you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort anymore.
Rafe raised his eyebrows for a moment, as if he didn't understand why you were apologizing, but his expression quickly softened.
“You don't have to apologize,” he replied, smiling calmly. His tone was so relaxed that it reassured you, almost as if the situation hadn't been as awkward as you thought. “It was nothing.”
That, in a way, relieved you, although you still felt a little embarrassed inside. But what really surprised you was how you kept talking to him, as if all of that had never happened. Despite the initial awkwardness, something about his presence made you feel calmer. You realized how easy it was to talk to him. The words flowed naturally, without the nerves you had felt before. They talked about trivial things at first: the house, his life, they had even talked about what you had thought of him when Sofia said they were dating.
The conversation slowly relaxed, without tension. You found yourself smiling more than you had planned, enjoying the talk without the awkwardness from before having room to grow. Rafe wasn't pressuring, he didn't make awkward comments, he just spoke with an ease that made you feel at peace, as if there were no expectations.
A few minutes passed, or maybe more, and you were surprised by how much you were enjoying talking to him. You had never imagined that you would have such a relaxed conversation with someone like him.
You were about to make one more comment when Sofia finally appeared. She entered the kitchen with a big smile, clearly full of energy, as always.
“Good morning!” she exclaimed, approaching the table and hugging you immediately. “How was your night? Did you rest well?”
She and Rafe looked at each other for a moment, exchanging a knowing smile that made it obvious how comfortable they were together.
“Yes, everything is fine,” you said to Sofia, smiling. “Just resting.”
Sofia looked at you curiously, as if she felt there was something more between you and Rafe, but she didn’t say anything. The feeling of being there with them, as part of the group, grew stronger. It was strange how the dynamics of that house absorbed you little by little, even when you weren’t completely sure where you fit in.
A few days had passed since that conversation in the kitchen, and although the calm between you and Rafe remained, something in you urged you to step away a little. You didn't have a specific reason, you just felt the need to disconnect from it all. You had your own business to attend to, things you had put aside while enjoying the company of Sofia and the others.
Rafe's house, the parties, all of that was left in the background as you immersed yourself in your own thoughts. The days passed without you going near Rafe's or Sofia's house, without you seeing them or even caring about how they were spending their time. You kept yourself busy, focused on other things: personal tasks, things you had had to put off because you were caught up in the flow of the Kooks' social life. You found yourself returning to your routines.
It had been a while since you disconnected a little from everything. The need to return to your own space had faded, and now, at the end of those days of silence, something was urging you to return. You thought about Sofia and how, even though you had been away, you knew she was still your friend. The idea of her now living with Rafe, as quickly as she had, seemed a little strange to you, but in the end, it was her life, her decisions. You decided it was time to go back, to meet them, although you didn't know exactly what to expect.
Arriving at Rafe's house, the stillness in the air made you feel that something wasn't right. The door was ajar, and inside, there was an unusual calm. Everything was silent. You assumed that Sofia wouldn't be home; she had probably gone out.
But as you moved towards the living room, you came across a scene you hadn't expected. Rafe was there, alone, in the center of the room. His posture tense, his hands shaking slightly. The first hint of something strange was that the phone in his hand was still in the air, dangling in his hand. It looked like he had received a call that had left him shaken. You could clearly see his labored breathing, his eyes scanning the room as if he was looking for something or someone, but at the same time as if he couldn't find it. The atmosphere in the house felt heavy, laden with something dark that you couldn't quite place.
You didn't know what to do. You didn't want to interrupt, but you couldn't just leave either. You assumed the call he'd received had left him in that state, though you weren't sure what it had been. The silence between the two of you was awkward, and as you thought about what to do, you cautiously approached.
You called his name.
"Rafe..." you said softly, trying not to startle him any more than he already was.
He glanced at you quickly, and his gaze, far from the arrogance he usually had, was filled with anxiety and some anger. His face was marked by a concern you hadn't seen before, and for a moment, he didn't seem like the Rafe Cameron you knew.
The tension in the air increased, and when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice sounded raspy, almost desperate.
"Go away!" he shouted, his tone a little higher than expected. The sound of his voice, so full of anxiety, made you take a step back, although, despite the sudden fear, something in you told you that you shouldn't leave.
You stood there, motionless for a moment, feeling your heart beating faster than normal. Rafe's panic was palpable, and the last thing you wanted to do was push him further. But, at the same time, you knew you couldn't just leave him like that.
"Rafe," you said, this time with a calmness that you didn't feel, but that you knew you needed for him to calm down. "I'm not going to leave."
His expression changed for a second, and he stared at you, as if trying to process what you had just said. A couple of seconds of tension filled the space between the two of you, but you didn't let him speak, taking advantage of the moment to move a little closer to him.
"It's okay, I understand that you don't feel well," you added, almost in a protective tone, although you said it without really knowing why. You didn’t know him as well as Sofia, but somehow, you cared for him more than you thought.
He took a deep breath, still shaken, and for a moment you thought you wouldn’t make it. But then, something in his gaze changed. His body, which was so stiff and tense, relaxed just a little, as if he was letting the words you had said reach him.
You moved a little closer, this time without him asking you to.
“How can I help you?” you asked softly. You knew that, in those moments, sometimes all you need is someone to be there, without pushing too hard.
Rafe looked at you a little confused, as if he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, and then lowered his head, with a grimace of frustration.
“I don’t know…” he murmured, his voice still deep. “It’s just that… I got a call…”
You could see on his face that whatever had happened on that call had really affected him. You didn't say anything else, just waited for him to gather his thoughts, for him to feel ready to talk.
A few minutes passed in which the silence stretched out, and in that time, you were simply there, in the same room, giving him space, but showing him that you weren't willing to abandon him. Finally, he looked up, and in a low voice, he said:
“Thank you…”
You looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you could see Rafe without the layer of arrogance and superiority that he always showed. You realized that, in that moment, he wasn't the self-assured boy that he had always been. He was just a person, vulnerable, dealing with something that he couldn't handle on his own.
You stayed with him as long as he needed, making sure that he wasn't alone in that moment. You didn't know what had happened with the call, or what was going to happen next, but a part of you understood something new about Rafe.
After that moment, something changed between you and Rafe, something that neither of you had anticipated. From that night on, you became the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments, without the need for words, without the typical facade of security that he used to have. What happened between you was something silent, almost imperceptible, but enough to leave a mark on both of you.
At first, Rafe didn't admit it out loud, he didn't even make it clear in his gestures, but there was something in his behavior that was beginning to change. The days passed, and while Sofia continued to be busy with her things, you began to see a side of Rafe that you had never imagined. He became quieter, more introspective, but instead of the usual practical jokes and air of arrogance, there were now moments when he looked simply lost, as if you were the only one in the world who understood what he was really feeling. And you, somehow, began to understand it too.
There was something about the way he looked at you when his thoughts seemed to be beyond his control, when the shadows of his past or his problems came back to haunt him. There was something that told you not to judge him, something that urged you to stay calm and empathetic, even when the situation seemed out of place. Whenever he seemed on the verge of losing control, you knew what to do, how to approach him without making him feel vulnerable or weak. You knew when to step back and when to offer him your company without needing to talk too much.
One afternoon, several days after that first meeting when you calmed him down, Rafe came home late, more undone than usual. He had had a fight with some of Sofia’s friends, and although no one in the house mentioned anything, you knew. It was as if everything he was trying to hide was crudely on display for you. When you entered the living room, he found you staring at the floor, shoulders slumped, and that expression only he could put on: a mix of repressed rage and deep sadness.
“Are you okay?” you asked softly, without pushing. You knew those words, though simple, could have more impact than you thought.
Rafe looked up, a little surprised by the calmness of your voice. Normally, he would have responded with a wry smile or a scathing comment, but instead, he looked at you and just said,
“I’m not.”
The tone was low, almost inaudible, as if he were revealing something he had never let slip before. You sat next to him without saying anything else, not forcing him to speak, but willing to stay there if he needed to vent. At that moment, you knew something had changed between the two of you.
The silence stretched out, but it wasn’t awkward. You knew Rafe didn’t need you to tell him what he should do or how he should feel. He just needed time, the space to be vulnerable without feeling judged, and in that space, you were the only one who could understand him. You didn’t need words to recognize the small gestures that betrayed him: the way his hand shook slightly or how his breathing quickened when something affected him too much. Those small details were what allowed you to see what others didn’t.
As time went by, Rafe began to seek you out more often. Although he didn’t say it directly, you began to notice that there were times when he would simply approach you without a clear reason, without looking for a conversation, just so you would be close. On more than one occasion, he found you sitting on the couch, lost in your thoughts, and without saying anything, he sat next to you. No explanations were needed, because you both understood that just being together, without the need for words, was enough.
There were days when he couldn’t hide what he felt, and without warning, the walls he had built around himself began to crumble. One day, after a particularly bad fight with Sofia, he came into the house, late at night. His face was tense, but there was something different about him. He didn’t yell, he didn’t hurl reproaches, but he just stood in the doorway, staring at you in silence, waiting for you to say something. And you did, you knew that what he needed was something that no one else gave him: reassurance.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” you asked calmly, as you always did.
Rafe took a deep breath, letting the weight of his thoughts surround him for a moment. Finally, he slumped down on the couch, eyes closed, not wanting to show what he felt. But you knew. You knew that, even if he didn’t say it, he was seeking comfort, not in words, but in the way you looked at him, in how your actions offered him respite.
“Sometimes…” he said, in a whisper, while looking straight ahead, not really seeing you. “I feel like I'm alone, even when I'm surrounded by people.”
You didn't need to say anything else. You knew that what he had revealed wasn't something he wanted to share with many, but with you, he felt safe. Sometimes, just knowing that someone understood him gave him the comfort he so desperately needed.
That was the dynamic between you: you didn't need to always talk, or understand everything. You just needed to be there, to be the only one who, in his darkest moments, could offer him a soft light, without pressure, just letting time and space do their work. And in that silent understanding, you became the only person capable of understanding Rafe in his entirety, in his most fragile and dark moments, when no one else dared to enter.
Despite everything you shared with Rafe, there was something inside you that you couldn't ignore. A desire, an attraction that, even though you tried to hide it, kept emerging with every gesture, with every word he said to you in those moments when his guard was down. You found yourself watching him more than you should have, noticing the little details that had previously gone unnoticed: how the light played in his hair, the way he laughed, or how his tone of voice changed when he was relaxed, when he felt like he didn’t have to be the same old Rafe, the one everyone admired or feared.
At first, you tried to ignore it. You said it was just the closeness, the way things had developed between the three of you, and that it was a passing phase. But it wasn’t just that. Every time he smiled at you or looked at you in a warmer way, you felt a tug in your chest that you couldn’t control. There was something else in you that was building, something that terrified you.
You thought about Sofia, how happy she was with him, how much she had supported you in everything, and it tormented you to feel what you felt for Rafe. You felt guilty, like you were betraying a friendship you had cared for for so long. She didn’t deserve that, you thought. Sofia had always been loyal, fun, and even though she could be impulsive and a little blind at times, you saw her happy, devoted to Rafe, trusting him in a way you never could.
There were times when, after talking to Rafe, you were left alone, with thoughts running wild in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the way he made you feel special, about how his closeness disarmed you, how there was something in his fragility that attracted you, a side that no one else saw, but you did. You felt at a crossroads, trapped between what you felt and what you knew you couldn’t do.
It wasn’t just a physical attraction, it was something deeper. Something that made you want to hold him longer than a friend should. Something that asked you to be there for him in a way that went beyond friendship. It was the desire to be close to him, to take care of him, to become his refuge, and it terrified you how much you loved him without being able to control it.
At first, you tried to suppress it. Every time you felt that need to be closer to him, to share more moments, you tried to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that it was because of the closeness of the last few months. But the more you denied it, the stronger that feeling became inside you, like it was an undercurrent that grew every time he looked at you with those dark, intense eyes. Those eyes that disarmed you, that seemed to see beyond your facade, beyond your friendship.
Sometimes, you felt like you were walking on a tightrope. You knew that every moment you spent with Rafe, every conversation, every gesture, brought you closer to something you couldn't allow yourself. But you couldn't help it. The desire, the attraction, everything you felt for him, was growing inside you, and no matter how many times you told yourself it was a betrayal, that you should stay away, you couldn't stop thinking about what happened when he was around.
Every time Sofia left, every time Rafe was left alone with you, that feeling grew stronger, as if the air between the two of you became thick and charged with something neither of you dared to mention. It scared you, it made you uncomfortable, but you couldn't stop it.
#fanfic#oneshot#imagine#x reader#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe x y/n#rafe x sofia#sofia obx#obx x reader#obx4#obx fanfiction#obx fic
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welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, today's topic: the chest touch at the pub. that scene has me in a chokehold for some reason and i still cannot stop thinking about it.
the first thing i wanna talk about is crowley's reaction, since this is the shorter part. he did not expect aziraphale to reach out to him like this and freezes for a second while aziraphale happily chatters away.
they were both walking and the hand on his chest stops him, so he comes to a stop right next to him while he was slightly behind him before that. his gaze also snaps to aziraphale's face, who is very much not looking at him.
they were having a conversation, but the touch essentially shuts crowley up and zira leaves him to get their drinks.
now, my question is why aziraphale does it. sure, it could just be an absent gesture since they're in a crowded place, just that he has never really done so before. i think it was very much planned, like asking crowley to dance and grabbing his hand later on.
a second before he actually reaches out, he also looks back to check whether crowley is where he thinks he is. that is the only time he does that, he was busy looking for a free table and miracles them one when he cannot find one - the look back is deliberate. especially since crowley is practically glued to his side, he has no need for confirmation, he can feel him brushing against him while walking.
the hand motion he does gets me, too. he is busy fidgeting with his hands like normal and has them clasped in front of him. aziraphale lifts them once he gets to "that is precisely the point", yet also already moves it slightly towards crowley, realizes he miscalculated where exactly he/his chest is, looks to check, then looks away again before actually touching him. am i reading too much into it? maybe.
i think it is his version of a little temptation. not only does it make crowley's brain short-circuit for a second, he also gets them their drinks and is now (or so aziraphale hopes) a bit calmer and will take the news aziraphale is about to give him better. the conversation at the cafe did not go entirely as planned, after all.
additionally, something i am not sure if other people have noticed or not is that aziraphale does not just touch crowley, it is a caress. he moves his hand down his chest.
the movement in order:
bar girl unfortunately moves in front of them, but you can clearly see the way his hand takes. to give you a direct comparison of the starting and end point:
a good point of reference is crowley's bolo tie but also the angle of aziraphale's arm while it is still visible.
the best part, in my opinion, is that aziraphale puts his hand right on top of crowley's heart. i think the symbolic importance of that is pretty clear and does not require any more explanation, although it makes me want to throw myself into a river. but that's by the by.
to summarize, aziraphale caresses crowley's heart chest to get him to calm down and not go insane over the news he is about to give him. he is also simply a bastard and knows exactly what he is doing to crowley.
as always, this is me going nuts with analysis, but i'm also curious to hear other people's thoughts on this.
don't tell my therapist about my unhinged meta posts or she will probably be very concerned for my mental wellbeing
#alex talks good omens#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#good omens meta#any grammar or spelling errors are my own#my brain is not being coherent lately
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Mr. Right Now Part 3 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: When Jake teaches you about foreplay, he also gives you a lesson in patience. Your body feels like it wants to rush through the motions, but he has a way of coaxing pleasure from you that you didn't realize any man was capable of.
Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, 18+
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
Your words were echoing in Jake's thoughts.
"I want you to make me feel good."
This was why he wanted to engage in small talk in the first place. To get to know you and let you see that he was capable of being more than a quickie to satisfy your agenda. He could be the opposite of the other guys, especially the ones at the bar. They wouldn't have the patience or take the time to make it good for you. But Jake would make sure you learned what you needed to know, and you'd have a smile on your face the whole time. As he gripped the globe of your ass with one big hand, he was getting more and more certain that he'd be smiling right along with you.
"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."
Your lips were brushing his with every little movement and every breath you took. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been with someone so eager, and it was almost comical how unwilling you were to accept that fact. He smiled as your fingers grasped at the back of his neck while you rubbed your lace covered pussy all over the front of his jeans without much finesse.
Not that it was unappealing. Not at all.
Just as your hand found its way down his body, ready to dip back inside his pants, he started to guide you away from his kitchen counter and your abandoned wine glass full of ice water. "Alright, Darlin'. Time to see how much you've learned so far. What was lesson number one?"
You seemed to be in a bit of a daze as he walked you backwards out of the kitchen and through the living room. "Um... don't talk about another guy when I'm touching your cock?" you whispered, eyes glued to his face.
"Very good. Now it's time for lesson number two: foreplay," he told you as he walked you backwards out of the kitchen and through the living room. You were wearing your tight tank top, a black thong, and your Converse sneakers. Your nipples were hard against his abdomen, making you all too appealing in your innocence. "And if you like the way that progresses, we can head right into lesson number three: oral sex."
Your eager eyes were wide as you looked up at him and asked, "You want me to give you a blowjob?"
He sure fucking did. He could already imagine the way you might hesitate before ultimately letting him guide you. His cock throbbed again as he thought about your excited but unpracticed moves. Shit. But truly, that's not what he'd been referring to.
"Not exactly," he grunted, mouth already watering at the scent of your arousal. You swallowed hard, your brow puckering softly like you couldn't understand his words. "We'll get there soon enough. But first..."
Jake liked to think he was good at foreplay. Whether he actually wanted to know about it or not, his older sisters were never quiet when they used to talk about guys, and he'd picked up a few vital bits of sage advice. One of them was the simple fact that women would go absolutely wild for a guy who was willing to spend the time required to really get them going. Even better if it was obvious he was enjoying himself, too.
So he got to work, but it didn't feel like work at all. Not when he had you pushed up against the wall in the hallway with his thick thigh wedged between yours. "Oh my god," you gasped, fingers tangled up in his hair. He let his lips meet yours before you finished speaking, and he kept them parted with his. One soft swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and you were rolling your hips against him.
You moaned softly as you broke the kiss, head tipped back against the wall. "Damn, you look cute," Jake grunted, and you made another soft sound as he examined your needy face. Then he licked a stripe along the side of your neck before kissing the same path and whispering, "You taste good, too. The other guys don't even know what they're missing."
"Jake." You were squeezing his thigh with your legs now as you clung to him, but he continued to casually sucked on your neck just above your collarbone. "Jake!"
"Feel good?" he asked, determined to make sure you were still enjoying yourself along the way before he kept going further. "Or you want me to stop?"
"Don't you dare stop," you practically shouted, ending on a soft whimper as he nudged at the strap of your flimsy little tank top with his nose. His fingers toyed with the lace thong along your hips as you gasped, "I'm... I'm really turned on."
Jake smiled against your shoulder, giving your hips a squeeze. "We're just getting started."
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Foreplay was awesome. Foreplay was your favorite thing in the whole world. You'd never experienced it before, but now that you were in the middle of it, you never wanted it to end. Your skin was slick with sweat, but so was Jake's as he worked his hands up inside your top. Your voice cracked when you said his name which just made his rough fingers knead into you a little harder. God, he was something else.
"Jake," you whispered, already feeling like you were on the verge of an orgasm. He still had all of his clothes on, but his right leg was in between both of yours, and it felt better than it did when you touched yourself. Then his hands started slowly guiding your top up, exposing first your belly and then your breasts, leaving you no time to feel self conscious. He tossed your shirt aside as you stood there before him.
"God damn it," he groaned, and his hands slid around to your butt, hoisting you further up his leg. The sensation of your pussy rubbing his jeans again had you panting and scrambling to get your arms around his neck as your breasts mashed against his chest.
He was carrying you further down the hallway with his big hands gripping the backs of your thighs, and you were sucking in shallow breaths as you managed to ask, "Are you going to fuck me now?"
"Jesus Christ," he grunted. "You know, you're pretty fucking good at dirty talk for a virgin, Darlin'."
You were still clinging to him as you looked around his bedroom. A king sized bed, modern furniture, huge windows, en suite bathroom, and a walk-in closet. He was an adult. Jake was a thirty year old man, and you'd never wanted anything in your life as much as you wanted him. "You didn't answer me," you whispered, your lips brushing his ear before he practically tossed you onto his bed. You squeaked as you sank into the soft, white bedding, making sure you kept your sneakers from touching any of it.
He was looking down at you, eyes raking from your face to your breasts and even lower as he touched himself through his jeans. Then he yanked his shirt over his head, and you gaped at his muscular chest and abs and shoulders. "I promised I'll make sure you come. But I don't need to fuck you to make that happen." He reached for your left ankle, circling it with one hand while he untied your shoelace. "These are cute, but they need to go." He tossed your shoe toward his closet, and soon the second one joined it.
Just when you propped yourself up on your elbows, he was on top of you, kissing your lips as you muttered his name. When his mouth trailed back down along your neck, he didn't stop. You gasped when his lightly stubbled cheek found your breast, but he kept going until your nipple was in between his lips, and you spread your legs wider to accommodate his body. You gave up, letting yourself sink onto your back as his big hand palmed and teased you while he tasted you seemingly everywhere.
Your mind was swimming as you tried to figure out how he was going to make you come, but a few seconds later, you were convinced his tongue swirling around your nipples could be enough. You knew you were making needy little noises, but you felt yourself clenching around nothing, and you were still wearing your thong. Your soaking wet thong.
"Oh!" you gasped when Jake plucked at your nipple with his lips before looking up at you while he stroked your side lazily. He kept his eyes on you as he kissed at the underside of your breast, and you just gaped in response.
"If you were anybody else," he mused, "sure, I'd fuck you right now." Your body felt impossibly warm as his pretty green eyes seemed to darken. "But you have a lot to learn about." His hand trailed down your side, over your belly and to the tiny bit of lace covering you from being completely naked in his bed.
"Tell me what I need to learn," you whispered, and Jake slid back off the bed, pulling you to the very edge with him. He knelt on the floor, pushing your thighs apart and planting your feet on the bed. You almost screamed his name when he leaned in and kissed you through your underwear, and something like possessiveness flashed in his eyes.
"It's always about you, Darlin'," he drawled. "That's what you need to know. It's not about me. It's never about the guy. It's about you."
"What do you mean?" you panted as he reached for the lace at your hips and started to pull it down. You had to lift your butt up from the edge of the bed and raise your legs up in the air, but your damp thong was soon on the bed next to you.
Jake grunted, planting your feet in place again as you spread out completely naked for him. When he kissed your bare pussy, you bucked up off of his bed and grabbed at the duvet, trying to squeeze your legs together. His big shoulders were in the way, and his finger was running up and down your slit as he said, "It's always about you. I'm gonna come no matter what. Any guy would if you treated him to your body. So you make sure you get what you deserve before he indulges to the point of no return."
And then his mouth was all over your pussy, and it was better than anything you'd ever felt in your life. "Oh my god." It was like the breath was knocked from your lungs as he licked up and down and back up to your clit. It was as if your body was trying to fight you as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch what he was doing, and you just stared at him, mouth agape. It looked fucking hot as his glistening lips pressed against your clit before he started sucking gently, and you were already so close embarrassingly to an orgasm.
"You don't have to do this," you blurted out way too loud as Jake met your gaze. "Guys don't like doing this?" It sounded more like a question as you watched him drag his tongue in a slow circle around your clit before kissing you there. His pupils were huge, and now you were confused, because it definitely looked like he was enjoying himself as his fingers dug into your thighs.
"Men love this." His words and the way he dragged his nose through your slick pussy left you with your mouth hanging open. "But if you're not enjoying yourself, all you need to do is say so."
Your voice shook as he sucked gently on your clit once again. "I'm definitely enjoying myself."
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You were soaking wet, your arousal slick as Jake ran his tongue along your slit. You tasted sweet and tangy, and you smelled so good, he had to bury his nose in you over and over. Just a perfect pussy. Technically you'd never been fucked by a guy before, but maybe someone else already got to taste how exquisite this was? He had to know.
He released your clit and kissed his way up your belly, watching your chest heave with every breath you took as you tried to rub against him for more friction. "Anyone ever get you off with their mouth before, Darlin'?"
Your eyes were wide, and your stuttered response was music to his ears. "N-No."
"Nobody has ever tasted you like this?" he asked softly, as you touched his hair almost reverently.
"Never."
How was he supposed to do anything else at the moment besides guarantee that he was not only your first, but your best. Guarantee that you thought about him anytime any other man touched you here. He never wanted you to be disappointed, ever, but he needed to know you'd think about his mouth when someone else just couldn't seem to get the job done like he could.
If you thought guys didn't like eating pussy, then you must have heard that shit from some college jackasses who had no idea how fucking good it felt to lap up after an orgasm. They were the type to chase their own pleasure instead of finding out how much better it felt to cum after watching your partner fall apart at your touch. They didn't deserve to get to have you, and now he was rejoicing in the fact that he didn't let you go prancing around campus in your little leather skirt after all.
Your hands were wound up tight in his bedding, and your back was arched off of his bed as you keened and gasped his name. You couldn't seem to get control of your own body, but he didn't care. He was rock hard, enjoying every moment of this. He kissed the inside of your thigh to give you a break, and sure enough, you eased your ass back down onto the bed. But as soon as he ran his tongue back from your hole to your clit, your body jerked up again.
"Come here," he crooned, wrapping his hands around your waist, holding you gently in place. "God, you're eager for this. You ready for me to make you come?"
"Yes," you gasped as he held you down and licked his way through your pussy, each stroke more intentional than the last. Each press of his lips to your clit a little bit rougher. And you got louder again for him as he brought you to the edge. Your voice was hoarse as he sucked on your clit, your hips rolling gently in his grasp. "Oh my god, oh my god!" Your feet were digging into the edge of his bed, but he didn't let up until your legs were shaking. Then you reached the peak, and Jake couldn't remember ever enjoying himself this much.
He was never going to forget the pitch of your voice as you cried out and came all over his tongue. He lapped up every last bit of you as you panted on his bed, arms limp at your sides. He ran his nose along your thigh, and when he stood, he looked down at the little grin on your face as your eyes fluttered open.
"Did you have fun?" he asked, and you turned your head to the side in embarrassment as you closed your legs, but you were still smiling.
"Yes," you whispered as he eased himself onto the bed next to you, and you met his eyes. "I can't believe you did that without... you know...."
He ran his thumb along your lip as he lounged on his side in his jeans. "You gonna finish that sentence?" When you shook your head and laughed he said, "Come on, Darlin'. Enlighten me."
You squirmed a bit and sighed as you whispered, "You didn't... penetrate me... at all."
Somehow those words had him wrapping his arm around you and pulling you flush against him on your side. When he kissed you softly, you gasped and tentatively licked his lip. You pulled away, eyes wide before going in for a more aggressive kiss, and Jake groaned as you tasted his mouth. "Oh," he grunted. "You like the way you taste?"
You whimpered into his mouth as you swiped his tongue with yours, and Jake let you taste yourself on him to your heart's content. The only issue he had was the way you kept nudging his erection with your leg, and holy shit, he was starting to get blue balls. He carefully guided your leg over his hip as you licked your way along his cheek with your fingers in his hair. If you were enjoying yourself this much, then he was ready to give you more.
His voice was barely a whisper as you kissed his nose. "You wanna feel a little penetration?" When you pulled your face away from him a few inches and nodded, he said, "Lesson four. My hand."
When he reached between his body and yours and cupped your pussy, your eyes fluttered closed. He kissed your pretty face as he teased your hole until you were grabbing the back of his neck and whining, "Please, Jake!"
He gave you anything you wanted. First one finger and then two. And then his thumb on your clit when you begged for that. Your hips were moving in time with his hand, and it was evident that you were still worked up from your first orgasm. "I want you to think about me," he growled as you started to clench around his fingers. "When you touch yourself, but especially when someone else isn't quite good enough. You think of me."
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Jake was pumping two fingers inside you and easing you onto your back, and you'd be shocked if you could ever think of anything other than his soft hair and green eyes ever again. You started kissing him, pulling him closer with one hand one his neck and one on his cheek as he finger fucked you. Your body felt wrung out from your first orgasm, but he had you right there again already.
You shivered as you tasted his tongue, the feel of his sure and steady thumb on your clit making you unable to control yourself. You could feel how hard his cock was, pressed to your leg through his jeans, and you wanted to figure out how to give him a handjob or a blowjob, just like he'd done for you. If he let you try, you'd make sure you did your best, because he was about to make you come again.
"Jake," you gasped, your teeth grazing his lip as you held him close. But he pulled away enough that he could watch you with a little smirk as you looked up at him and started whining. It felt that good, the way his fingers pumped and the way his thumb circled your slick clit. You were riding his hand as you felt yourself clench around his thick fingers, and then it was all over. You saw stars. You heard a high pitched sound in your ears. You were babbling incoherently. You were coming so hard.
Jake's lips were on your breasts, your skin slick with sweat and saliva as the cool air in his bedroom hit you there, and you almost wanted to scoot away from him as you started to feel overstimulated, but he seemed to know it was time to pull his hand from between your thighs. His fingers were glistening, but you caught his wrist before he could wipe them on his jeans.
"Damn," he crooned as you guided his hand to your mouth. "You're the filthiest virgin I've ever met."
You laughed as you let his fingers slip between your lips, and you cleaned your taste off of him with your tongue. Jake's green eyes were wide, and as soon as you let his hand slip away, his tongue was swiping yours like he wanted another taste for himself. Even though he'd had his face buried in your pussy not too long ago. You kissed him and let his hand roam your chest and up to your neck, and just when you felt him grind his cock against your belly, you couldn't hold back your enormous yawn.
"I'm sorry," you muttered, trying your best to cover your mouth with your hand as a second yawn started up. "You wore me out."
"Don't apologize for that, Darlin'," Jake drawled, and he collected you in his arms and helped you stand up on shaky legs. "Let's get you cleaned up."
He held your hand and led you into his bathroom. You glanced around the tidy space at the fancy shower and the double sink vanity while he dug around in a drawer. The room was masculine and smelled good, just like he did. And you kind of liked the way he casually kissed your cheek as he handed you a green toothbrush that reminded you of his eyes. "Here's a clean washcloth, toothpaste and face wash. Let me know if you need anything else."
When he started to walk away, you said, "Wait." He turned back, green eyes on you as you asked, "You want me to stay?"
Jake shrugged and said, "Only if you want to. You've still got a lot to learn. Or I can drive you home instead."
His eyes looked a little guarded now, waiting for your response. "I'll stay," you whispered, and he nodded with a little smile.
You yawned again as he exited the room and pulled the door closed softly behind him, and when you looked in the mirror, you did a double take. It wasn't that you looked different exactly, but maybe you did. Jake hadn't even fucked you, but perhaps you looked a little older now. You laughed, knowing you were full of nonsense as you brushed your teeth. Then you washed your face and used the toilet, biting your lip at the way your body felt kind of sore after two delicious orgasms.
When you walked out of the bathroom, Jake was pulling the duvet back, wearing just a pair of boxer briefs. His cock was still hard, and you desperately wanted to show him some appreciation, but you couldn't stop yawning.
"Climb in, Darlin'." You were about to stay the night with a thirty year old man you just met a few hours ago, but you didn't feel apprehensive at all. Even though his mouth had been all over your body, and he knew what you sounded like when he made you come.
You ducked your head as you climbed under the covers, and Jake surprised you by leaning down and kissing your forehead. When he stood up again, you started to scoot over, but he turned toward the bathroom. "Are you coming back?" you asked softly.
Jake nodded and said, "Yeah, I just need a minute." His voice was strained, and as he turned off the lamp next to his bed, your gaze drifted to one of the huge windows and the stars in the late night sky.
"Can you hear the ocean from your room?" you asked with another yawn as your eyes closed.
"Sure can," he replied with a chuckle. You heard him slide the window open and felt the cool breeze on your face. Almost immediately, you dozed off to the sound of the ocean and the feel of Jake's fingers on your cheek.
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Jake had to be out of his mind for inviting you to stay over, but the last thing on his mind was booting you out like a random tag chaser. And besides, he wanted to spend more time with you. There was something about you that he really liked. You were a smartass, and you were funny. And your body was sweet and sensitive, and as a result of all of those things, he had a problem he needed to take care of.
He watched you curl up in his bed with a smile on your face as you listened to the sounds of the ocean, and then he rushed into the bathroom. With less finesse than he showed you, Jake yanked his underwear down and wrapped his hand around his cock. He was aching with need, your taste still on his tongue as he jerked off. You were in his bed. His room smelled like your arousal. "Shit," he grunted, stroking himself quickly.
When you asked if he wanted you to give him a blowjob, he should have said yes. The idea of you on your knees for him, practically oozing sweet innocence with your lips parted in invitation was too much. But he wanted to spend hours working you up, fucking you until you screamed his name. He wanted to teach you so many things and be the first one to do all of them. He'd already taken you to the brink of overstimulation and exhausted your body, and now he just wanted to do it all over again.
As soon as he pulled up the memory of your hand wrapped around his cock in the kitchen, Jake came. Hard. He was panting your name, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he leaned against the wall. Exhausted and finally sated, he yawned before he cleaned himself up and brushed his teeth. When he walked back out into his bedroom and found you snuggled up in the middle of his massive bed, he slipped in next to you.
"Jake," you moaned softly, rolling to face him and wrapping your arm across his chest. He held you close as he listened to the sound of the ocean in the darkness, and then he was asleep too.
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I think she probably needs a few more lessons.... I'm going to let her have a few more lessons. What would you want Jake to take the time to teach you? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 4
@blahehblah
@sotalife
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— when the time comes
pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader
word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.
part two is out!
tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship
author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^
god stood me up
and I don't know why
lights are on
but nobody's home
you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.
logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.
there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.
��you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.
he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.
you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”
“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.
“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.
“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.
when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett angst#major character death#logan 2017#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#marvel#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#Spotify#old man logan#old man logan x reader#old logan#old!logan howlett
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Something Unexpected
Thank you @pasc4lfuzz for this request!
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: It's been ten years since you lived in Texas, and of course the first week back, you run into a familiar face from your past.
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, mention of OC death (reader's father), romcom vibes (bc of course), meet cute, shy!joel, flirting, sexual tension, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex (reader on BC), sex in public
WC: 4.8K
Dirty Bill's bar was exactly as you remembered.
As the name implied, the place wasn't the cleanest. Even after Bill locked up for the night, your shoes used to stick to the floors and it was almost a guarantee to find a stray lemon or lime somewhere on the bar top.
His definition of clean never matched yours. Hell, it didn't match anyone's, but that didn't stop locals from frequenting the place regularly.
It had been years since you lived in Austin and worked at the bar. At least ten, maybe more. When you tended bar, you actually kept the place relatively clean, but you knew the second you walked in that Bill clearly went back to his old ways once you quit and moved.
To his credit, the place was still packed. You had to stand up on your tiptoes and crane your neck to find your oldest friend, Leah, sitting at the bar nursing a gin and tonic. You grinned and pushed your way through the crowd, doing a double take when you recognized a few poor souls from your bartending days drinking the same bottles of beer.
Some things really never do change.
"Leah!" you cried out excitedly as you approached. She swiveled around on her barstool with a huge grin when she heard your voice. Jumping down, you enveloped her in a huge hug, swaying her back and forth and holding each other as tight as you could. She looked a little older and she gained a bit of weight since she had her kids, but otherwise she was the same. Same bright blue eyes, same wavy blonde hair, same toothy smile.
"Oh, my god! I can't believe it's really you!" she exclaimed, leaning back but still gripping your shoulders so she could get a good look at you. "You look amazing," she added before dropping her hands.
"I was about to say the same to you," you said before sliding onto the barstool next to hers. She scoffed and shook her head.
"Don't bullshit me. After I had Aiden I was never able to lose the extra weight."
"I'm not bullshitting you," you laughed. "You were always too skinny before, I told you that tons of times. You look incredible. I mean it."
She blushed and waved you off. "What're you drinking? They have some specials til nine, that's when the fireworks are supposed to start, but sadly that's also when I'll have to leave," she said with a pout. "Babysitter's got plans. Can you believe the audacity? A twenty year old daring to make plans on the Fourth of July?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. You laughed and took the stained piece of paper she held out for you.
"I can't believe he's doing specials now," you told her while you perused the menu.
"It ain't anything earth shattering. Bud's a buck cheaper and well drinks are two bucks each."
"And here I thought he dreamed up a cocktail menu," you replied with another laugh.
"Oh, honey, you know Bill won't even buy a goddamn blender for daiquiris."
It had been ten years since you left Texas and saw Leah, but just the way good friends do, you fell right back into each other without skipping a beat. Although the topics of conversation that had once centered around boys now focused on her children and work, you still found her so easy to talk to.
"And what about you? Now that you're back, what's the plan for work?"
You winced when you tossed back the rest of your drink and shook your head. "Don't know yet. I gotta get my head around going through all of dad's things and trying to sell that house. Hell, maybe Bill will hire me again," you joked.
"I know you're just kidding but he would in a heartbeat," Leah said before clearing her throat and taking on a more somber tone. "How're you holding up? Dealing with your dad passing 'n everything?"
You shrugged and smiled at the cute bartender who gave you both refills without having to ask. "I'm alright. It was a long time coming, he was sick for so long. I'm just glad he's not in pain anymore, but I miss him. This whole town just reminds me so much of him, you know?" you said, furrowing your brow while you watched your ice swirl in your glass. She nodded sympathetically and put a gentle hand on your arm. "It's so weird being back here now without him. Like I keep waiting for him to walk through the front door. It's why I can't keep the place. Too many memories, it's messing with my head," you said with a dry laugh before taking a sip of your drink.
"I get that. I can come by this weekend and help you for a few hours if you like," she said. You smiled at her and tilted your head to the side, overcome for a moment at how generous she was, knowing full well she had enough to deal with at home.
"Thanks, Leah. I'll let you know."
After another hour, the cute bartender cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and announced last call for drink specials. Leah's face fell and she pushed off the bar with a sigh.
"Guess I oughta get going."
Sadness rippled through your chest at the thought of being alone again, but you tried not to let her see it. She had a family to go home to, a life.
"Thanks again for meeting me, I know it's hard for you and your schedule is so busy now," you said, giving her a hug.
She opened her mouth to reply when the cute bartender you had been eyeing up all evening put a drink in front of you.
"Oh, sorry, thanks, but I'm just about to leave," you told him. He wiped his hands on a towel and tipped his head to the side.
"It's on him."
Your gaze followed the direction in which his head tilted and you could hardly believe your eyes.
"Oh, boy," Leah muttered under her breath.
The man on the other side of the bar lifted his beer bottle to you before stepping away into the crowd. You could see his greying curls making their way through the throngs of people fighting to get one or two more cheap drinks and you felt anger slowly bubbling to the surface.
"Play nice," Leah warned you. You clenched your teeth and shook your head.
"I'm always nice."
She chuckled and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Call me about this weekend."
"Yeah, okay," you replied distractedly, your heart thudding faster in your chest when the familiar looking man stepped through the crowd and sidled up next to you at the same time Leah disappeared, heading towards the door.
"Hey, darlin'. Hope you don't mind me buyin' you a drink," he said, his southern drawl thicker and slower than you remembered. "I'm Joel," he added, sticking his hand out for you to shake.
You stared at it too long, the alcohol buzzing through your veins and slowing down your train of thought.
"Yeah, I know who you are, Joel," you replied, ignoring his hand to glare up at him. "Do you really not recognize me?"
He swallowed and let his hand fall limp as he scanned your face, the gears in his head working overtime to try and place you, and the fact he didn't remember you hurt your feelings more than you expected.
"I, uh..." he trailed off and scratched his chin nervously. You rolled your eyes and leaned against the bar.
"I used to date your brother. For like, eight fucking months in high school. He stood me up for prom?" you reminded him, your tone turning icy. The realization clicked and his face softened when he quietly murmured your name.
"Oh, shit. Sorry, I didn't... thought you moved outta town."
"I did," you snapped. "I'm back now. Just got here last week."
He nodded and shifted his jaw to the side. It was like you could see the wave wash over him in real time: his memory recalling images of you in his mother's house, probably remembering stories Tommy told him when you weren't around, and finally, the uneasiness settled in when it dawned on him his brother could find out he made a move on his ex girlfriend.
But much to your surprise, Joel didn't come up with some feeble excuse and run off. In fact, he took Leah's abandoned stool and put his beer next to your untouched drink.
"Tommy was an asshole to you, wasn't he?" he asked. And even though it was ages ago, you could feel that wound in your chest slowly begin to open back up.
You shook your head and looked down at your hands.
"He embarrassed me. Dated me the entire school year, went to football games and every single house party together just to bring Jill fucking Parker to prom." You angrily took a long drink from your glass before setting it down a little too loudly on the bar. "Didn't even break up with me. Just... pretended like I didn't exist. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? I showed up an hour late, my hair and makeup all goddamn perfect, just to walk into the gym and see him dancing with her. Kissing her. Fucking dick," you muttered, raking your fingers through your hair.
Joel listened quietly, a sympathetic look on his face while you continued.
"I couldn't stay there. I turned right around and walked home. Cried the whole fucking night in some stupid fucking dress that matched his stupid fucking boutonniere."
Joel winced and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I - I remember some of that but I was too wrapped up in my own shit back then. Had one foot out my parents' door, had a girlfriend and was gettin' started in construction. I remember you at some family dinners but... I don't know, I'm real sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to ruin your night."
You sighed and rolled your shoulders. "You didn't, it's fine. It was a long time ago."
"Yeah, but it still hurts you. I can see it," he replied, his soft brown eyes boring into you.
"It shouldn't. I just haven't thought about all that in forever and so far, being back here is only bringing up shitty memories," you said sadly, stirring your drink absentmindedly.
Joel glanced around the bar, noticing it was beginning to clear as patrons filed out to the parking lot to get a good spot for the fireworks show about start in the town park down the street.
"C'mon," he said, abandoning his beer and taking your hand before sliding off the stool. "Let's go make a good memory. Fireworks are 'bout to start."
Your eyelids fluttered in surprise, first at the way he was holding your hand, and second at his proposition.
"Oh, we don't have to. I was going to head home, anyway," you told him. He was nicer than you expected about the whole situation, but it was bordering on pity, and that was something you certainly were not interested in.
"I ain't gonna keep you from leavin', but I could sure use the company," he said, still holding your hand. You chewed your bottom lip as you silently weighed your options. He smiled softly and gave your hand a little tug when he saw your resolve crumbling. "C'mon. I don't wanna watch fireworks alone."
You rolled your eyes and fought back the stupid smile from spreading across your face. "Alright, why not?" you said, hopping off your stool. You allowed him to drag you by the hand through the crowds of people mingling in the parking lot, through clouds of cigarette smoke and boisterous laughter until you reached his truck parked at the very corner of the lot.
Joel dropped your hand so he could unhook the tailgate, then jumped up with a grunt to unfold the pile of blankets he had shoved in the far corner. You took a few steps forward and watched curiously as he fluffed up two pillows, and you wondered if this was some kind of move he often pulled on girls.
"You came prepared," you said, trying to subtly test your theory. He glanced over his shoulder with a grin.
"Got stood up tonight," he replied, and the irony of it was too much. You burst out laughing, clapping your palm over your mouth.
"I'm sorry, it's just... what are the odds?"
He chuckled and, once he was satisfied with the blanket arrangement, extended an arm out to you.
"It was a blind date. Wasn't nearly as bad as bein' stood up for prom, but still stung a bit," he admitted. He clasped your hand in his and pulled you up into the bed of his truck with so much strength, you nearly fell against his chest.
"Oops, sorry," you said shyly when you had caught yourself from falling into his lap just in time. He just gave you another smile that was beginning to make your knees weak and leaned back into the bed of the truck. He readjusted his head on one of the pillows, one arm tucking behind his head with a sigh, and gazed up at the sky.
You looked around nervously, unsure what to do. The setting was a little too intimate to be in with your ex's brother, but no one else was around. The closest car with people in it was fifty yards away. And besides, if someone were to report back to Tommy, they would have already seen you together in the bar.
"So, why'd you move back?" Joel asked, his voice so much deeper now that you weren't surrounded by classic rock and loud conversations. You tucked your legs underneath you and looked down at him all stretched out. His shirt was riding up just an inch, exposing a sliver of tanned skin and a trail of dark curls leading past his waistband. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to look away.
"Um, my dad died," you told him. His brows pinched together, giving you that look of pity that you had grown too familiar with.
"I'm sorry," he said, and you could tell he meant it.
"Thanks. He was sick for a long time," you explained, trying to downplay it, but he shook his head.
"Don't matter. Losin' a parent ain't ever easy."
You pursed your lips and nodded, staring down at your fingers twisting together in your lap.
"Suppose that's true."
He allowed you to sit quietly for a moment while you gathered your thoughts, waiting to see if you wanted to talk about it more or let it be.
"A blind date, huh?" you asked him, changing the subject.
"Yep. Blind date," he repeated, eyes flickering briefly down your body. "Don't wanna use no apps or shit. Thought it might be easier to do things the old fashioned way. Guess I was wrong."
"I know what you mean," you said. "It feels like it's impossible to meet anyone organically anymore."
He hummed and took a deep breath. "Like buyin' a girl a drink in a bar?"
You giggled and he grinned, the sound of your laugh sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins.
"Yes, but we already met before," you reminded him.
He nodded, smile still playing at his lips. "You use a lot of them apps?"
You felt your cheeks warm and shrugged. "Not really. I have used them, but not lately."
He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in his chest when he asked, "That 'cause you got a boyfriend now, or..."
You laughed again and his nerves immediately calmed at the sound.
"No. No boyfriend."
He felt his hands shake while he struggled to come up with the right thing to say or do next when fate intervened and gave him the perfect answer.
A loud boom echoed from behind you and you jumped in surprise, then grinned when you tilted your chin up to see the fireworks had started. Joel cleared his throat, pulling your attention onto him.
"Gonna pull a muscle in your neck if you keep that up for the next half hour," he said, then patted the empty area next to him. You smiled shyly and it made his stomach flip.
"You're pretty smooth, Joel Miller," you teased before sliding down onto your back next to him so you could look up at the dark sky all lit up above you.
He tapped his chest nervously with the tips of his fingers, hardly paying attention to the fireworks now that you were so close that he could feel the heat from your soft skin and smell the scent of your shampoo burrowing its way into his blankets.
Unsure how to make the next move, he chose to go with a classic. He figured at the very least, you might laugh again.
"Why don't you get closer, darlin'? You look cold."
Sure enough, you did laugh, making his heart soar but to his shock, you also inched closer to him. Nestling into his side, you gently placed one of your hands on his stomach, but he could tell it made you nervous because your shoulders felt stiff and your breath was shallow.
"Is this okay?" he murmured after he wrapped an arm around you, his fingers brushing delicately over your arm.
"Mhmm," you said, feeling your skin prickle under his touch. He felt it, too, and pulled a blanket over you both.
How the hell did you end up in the back of your ex boyfriend's brother's truck, cuddled up under blankets and watching the fireworks? When you were getting ready earlier, your only hope was to find some distraction with an old friend for a couple hours. Whatever this was was a complete and pleasant surprise.
Both of you watched as your hand slowly crept up from his stomach to his chest, your hearts beating fast with anticipation. You tilted your chin up to look at him, those deep brown eyes meeting yours and in that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you.
You met each other half way at the exact same time, pressing your lips together tentatively at first, then with more desperation. He tasted like stale beer but you loved it. It felt comforting. He was so warm and strong under your touch, his hand so big when it came to rest on the side of your face as he plunged his tongue greedily into your mouth for the first time. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized what you were doing was probably wrong, that it could very well cause a problem between him and Tommy, but he was a grown man who knew exactly what he was doing when he took your hand in that bar.
You weren't exactly sure how it escalated, but it did. He rolled on top of you, pinning you with his weight while one hand skirted up your side, squeezing your breast before tugging the cup of your bra down underneath your shirt and rolling your nipple between two expert fingers. You moaned into his mouth and arched your back, pressing yourself into him.
"Joel," you whispered when his mouth trailed down your neck and his hips began to rut against yours.
"I know, 'm sorry," he panted, yet he didn't make a move to stop. "This probably ain't a good idea," he added, but just tilted his head so he could suck on the other side of your neck.
You bit your lip and tipped your head back, giving him better access.
"Probably not," you agreed when your hands found his belt. His lips stuttered against your throat when you deftly undid the leather and popped the button on his jeans.
"Shit," you whispered when his hand slid down the front of your shorts, his fingers petting at your sex through your panties.
"You want this, baby?" he asked, nipping at your collarbone. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, the fireworks in the sky matching the ones behind your eyelids.
"Say it," he commanded, voice dropping an octave and sending a shiver down your spine.
"I want it," you breathed before palming his erection through his jeans. He groaned and pressed himself further into your hand, encouraging you to rub his cock through the thick denim, your mind spiraling at how hard he was already.
He undid your shorts in record time, helping you shimmy out of them as quickly as possible, each of you panting for air, the excitement overwhelming.
"Joel, what if - shit," you cursed when he yanked your panties down and off, tossing them to get lost amongst the blankets. "What if someone sees?"
"Don't worry, I got you," he said, eagerly pushing his jeans down so they bunched up mid-thigh, then settled between your legs and tugged the blanket back over you both. "Ain't no one gonna see us, they're all lookin' up," he whispered before slotting your lips together once again.
Your brows pinched together and your mouth fell open when he first pressed inside, his impossibly hard cock parting your walls and making room for himself deep within your body. His hand cradled the side of your face, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your cheek when he buried himself inside you with a grunt.
Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, wrapping around the thick muscle there, threading through some of his hair and holding him close.
Joel bumped his nose against the side of your throat, his own gasps being drowned out by yours as he hid his face against your neck and slowly dragged his cock in and out. Each flex of his hips made you soften under him until you moaned his name into the night air, your voice being muffled by the fireworks overhead and oh, he liked hearing that. His name falling from your lips in ecstasy while he buried himself as deep as he possibly could inside your warmth caused him to think stupid thoughts and feel stupid things.
You wanted to ask him how he did it, how he made you feel so fucking good, how he managed to reach a place inside you that had your mind going numb and your skin tingling with anticipation, but you couldn't find your voice. You could only offer him small whimpers and throaty moans, hoping it would be enough to encourage him.
He panted against your skin, his wet exhale mingling with the humidity of the air, leaving your throat sticky and warm. His hand gripped your thigh, tugging your leg upwards, shifting you around until he found a position that pleased him.
His hips began to move faster when, in the back of his mind, he knew the fireworks would be wrapping up soon. He wished he could take his time with you. He wished you didn't have to hold back those pretty sounds that fell from your even prettier mouth. But fuck, you just looked so beautiful and you felt so good wrapped around him that he couldn't stop himself.
"Oh, god," you whined, fingernails digging into his upper back so hard that he could feel the pinch through the fabric of his shirt. "Right there, Joel, please," you whimpered, and he grinned.
"Y'feel so good, baby," he murmured in your ear, making sure to maintain the same pace within you, not wanting to deny you any pleasure. "So fuckin' good. Wanted you from the second I saw you tonight, y'know that?"
You moaned and continued to claw at his back, your eyes prickling with tears as your climax swelled low in your belly.
"I lied earlier," he admitted, watching your face closely when he said, "didn't sting at all that my date didn't show. Wouldn't've been able to keep my eyes off you the whole time, anyway."
You groaned and cried out his name, your hand slapping over your mouth and once again he grew angry with himself that he didn't just take you home.
"Joel," you whimpered behind your hand, and he yanked it down, uncaring if anyone heard at that point.
"Tell me what you want," he said roughly, hips fucking into you at a steady clip that made beads of sweat form against his hairline.
"Harder," you groaned, biting at his jaw, then latching onto his neck and sucking wet, open mouthed kisses there, hoping to leave a mark. "I'm close, fuck me harder," you repeated, and something primal in him unfurled at the command.
You buried your face against his shoulder when he started to snap his hips into you, his arms caging you in and keeping your body from sliding up the bed of the truck. You wrapped your legs around his waist like an anchor as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, all the while his mouth dragged up and down your neck, your face, your shoulders... anywhere he could find skin, he left his mark.
Then he felt a familiar tightening around his cock and your body began to tremble underneath him, causing his stomach to tense and his hips to stutter. Your teeth clamped down on his shoulder when you came, your words muffled against his body, your hands scrambling against his back as if you were about to fall.
Maybe you were.
"Where?" he whispered frantically, and when you took too long to respond he grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to lock. You were all fucked out, your body slack and your breath haggard as you gazed up at him, confused. "Where?" he asked again with more urgency, and finally it clicked.
"Inside," you replied, voice cracking. He shook his head like he was in pain and dropped his hand from your chin back down to your hip, pulling you impossibly closer while he continued to plunge inside of you. "It's fine, it's safe," you clarified for him, and that was all he needed to hear.
His mouth crashed over yours when he came, his kisses sloppy and his throat hoarse from the way his words turned into growls against your lips. He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and cupped your face again. Your noses brushed together and your eyes locked as his hips slowed down but still rocked into you, each surge of his cum punctuated by a soft ah until he finally stilled and collapsed.
"Christ," he grumbled against your shoulder. You gently raked your fingers through his hair while you each caught your breath, his body shivering when your nails scraped his scalp just right. He turned his head and gave you a little smile before tenderly pressing your lips together, then carefully sliding out of you with a grunt.
He rolled onto his back and yanked his jeans back up before searching around the ruffled blankets for your clothes. Right when the big finale began, he handed them back to you.
"Perfect timing," you giggled as you squirmed around under the blanket to put your clothes back on. Joel glanced around, his veins still pumping his body full of dopamine, and confirmed that nobody had been close enough to overhear, let alone see, what happened.
Once the fireworks stopped, the crowds of people in the parking lot clapped and began to head to their cars, headlights and engines turning on all around you.
You sat up and straightened out your shirt, trying to play it cool but internally you were freaking out. Was this a one time thing? It had to have been. Right? Did you want it to be a one time thing?
Then, Joel broke the awkward silence.
"Can I ask you somethin'? And you can be honest, it won't hurt my feelin's none," he said. When you looked over at him, he was looking off in a random direction, unable to look you in the face when he asked, "Was this just to get back at Tommy?"
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
"N-no, of course not," you stammered. "I haven't even thought about Tommy in years. Besides, I wouldn't do something like that."
He tilted his head back in your direction and grinned.
"That's a relief, 'cause it mighta hurt my feelin's."
You laughed and tossed a pillow at him.
"You liar."
He chuckled and gently tossed the pillow back. You tucked it against your stomach as you stared at one another, each of you trying to work out what happened next.
"I wanna see you again," he said, answering your unspoken question, and you couldn't hide the delight from spreading across your face.
"Me, too," you said, and he smiled. A big smile, one that definitely made your knees weak that time. "But what about Tommy? I don't wanna cause some problem with you two."
Joel shrugged and took a deep breath. "Then maybe it can be our little secret."
A slow, mischievous smile tugged at your lips and you knew in that moment he was going to be trouble.
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Hobie Brown, Emotional Preparation, and the Art of Great Dialogue
Nearly all of Hobie's dialogue is written with his goal - protecting and preparing Miles for Miguel's abuse - in mind, even if it may not be obvious at first watch.
Here's an unhinged breakdown where I over-analyze literally every one of Hobie’s lines and explain how every sentence was written to contribute directly to Miles’ radicalization.
Hollywood. Pay your writers. (:
___________________________________________________
Hobie has around 10 minutes screentime total, but for the sake of introductions and this analysis, let's start at the end of the battle, and the beginning of the quantum hole.
Starting with his first line in the scene:
"I don't follow orders. Neither does he."
All morals considered, Hobie doesn't seem like the type to speak for someone who can speak for themselves - he's a punk after all. But here, he speaks for Miles. This line serves to tell Miles 'I don't respect them, why should you?', but funnily enough, it can also be a point to Jess, as if to say 'Miles isn't interested.' - even if he is.
"Bit much, innit?"
While, Hobie and Mile's next interaction is their exchange in the elevator, the scene leads to Mile's introduction to the Society. Miles gawks at the lobby, obviously impressed. Gwen affirms this awe, telling him 'this is just the lobby.' However, Hobie feels the need to chime in. His next dialogue 'Bit much, innit?' is a subtle nudge to Miles that the society is not a place to be in awe off. It's a spectacle, one that's a bit overdone. Knowing Miles now sees Hobie as cool, Hobie makes it known - he sees the Society as uncool.
"Gwendy, How much have you told him? About his place in all this? Maybe not enough."
'So what happened about that small elite strike-team?' - 'Most of these are part time.' This is by far one of Hobie's more interesting lines, and I wrote about it here. But in short, this is Hobie's soft but direct confrontation of Gwen. After Gwen lies to Miles in front of him, Hobie immediately asks how much Gwen has revealed to him. And when she tries to play it off, he openly says 'Maybe that's not enough.' He's not angry with Gwen, but he is disappointed, which in turn motivates him to have his discussion with Miles.
"Super humane, and not creepy."
One of my favorites, because it's hard to catch and to the point. After talking about Hobie and Gwen's mission history, they're taken to Margo and the control room. As Miles marvels at Margo and the Go-Home-Machine, and Gwen says she voted against it. However, Hobie says blatantly: 'Holy shit, Miles isn't this inhumane and weird???', validating that the Society is willing to do inhumane, hurtful stuff to those it deems 'misplaced'.
Next comes Hobie's confrontation with Miles.
Because Hobie knows this is his last movements with Miles before he meets Miguel, and this is where if final push of emotional support kicks in, before he goes quiet in front of Miguel.
And because this conversation is so well layered, I think it's best to go line by line. ______________________________
H: "Bet this doesn't even do anything." M: "Maybe it did before you ripped it out of a wall!"
Hobie has now confirmed that he'll be making an exit soon. And he begins his finally sweep of parts he needs for his watch, stocking up his pockets. He's not stealing to steal. He knows he's leaving and this is his last chance to get what he needs before he's out the door.
"Propaganda, bro! It's to distract you from the truth!"
HOLY SHIT I missed this one. Notice how in this shot, Gwen is not visible at all. Hobie notices they're out of hershot of her for the first time. And his first line is - 'Propaganda.' Their watches can take them anywhere. When Gwen needed to, she was taken to exactly where she needed in Mumbattan. But when they're heading towards HQ, Jessica makes them walk through the lobby. They could have been sent directly to Miguel's station, but instead she makes them do the whole tour, which serves as a flex of muscle. In order, Miles was shown the massive number of members in the Society, then their prisoners, then the go-home-machine. Only THEN can they see Miguel. All of which was intent to intimidate Miles on purpose. Hobie tells him directly: 'Everything you just saw was propaganda.'
M: And what's that?
"I ain't got a Scooby Doo, mate. Cause that's what they want."
One of the most iconic and notable of his quotes. Cockney aside, this line ties back in with his discussion with Gwen just a couple minutes before. They've done their tour and walk. Both Jess and Gwen have been given a chance to prime or explain to Miles anything, and both have chosen not to. So Hobie simply tells him, 'They want you in the dark. And they're sending you into a fight.'
The next line is:
H: Why do you want to be part of this lot? M: To get a watch. H: Make your own watch.
Miles sucks his teeth at Hobie.
Because of this - Hobie begins to change methods. Which I cannot stress is incredibly perceptive of him.
Miles is exasperated with him. So instead of dissuasion and making the society out to be uncool, he tries to turn Miles' attention towards his family.
"Bet you got a nice setup, huh? Nice parents?"
This line is a very well done one, with two things of notice. First, I find it interesting that the screenplay phrases this line as a question, not a sentence. Hobie is asking. He's taking a shot in the dark here. And this is backed up by his delivery; Hobie hesitates while saying this. The only line in which he does so. He may not know about Miles' mom and dad, because Gwen hadn't met them when she met Hobie. But still, Hobie asks, hoping the reminder of Miles' parents will dissuade him from continuing.
M: They're fine. H: [After this line, Hobie turns black and white momentarily. Potentially a nod to the fact that this conversation is the only 'black and white' one Miles has had so far.] M: But we got into a fight. They just want what's best for me, so...
[Hobie frowns. The scene and dialogue REALLY starts to pick-up from here.]
"That's a bloody shame. Because you're not ready for everyone else."
As the scene progresses Hobie goes from behind Miles, to beside him like an ally. Then, when Gwen finally comes back into frame, Hobie crosses in front of him. When Miles mentions his parents wanting what's best for him, Hobie warns that everyone else does not want what's best for him. At the same time, visually Gwen has her back to Miles, and Hobie puts himself between Miles and Gwen, trying to block his path. The scene is set up to show that in Hobie's eyes, Gwen is turning her back on Miles. She does not have his best interest in mind. Hobie is telling Miles 'They're using propaganda on you, they're keeping you in the dark, and they do not have your best interest at mind. You're not ready for this." And he physically tries to block Miles from continuing, one last time.
Miles goes through Hobie, and now within earshot of Gwen again, this is Hobie's final chance and push to get as much information into Miles as he can - without freaking Miles out. Above all else, he needs Miles to be prepared, confident, and willing to fight back.
His voice becomes more serious, and he starts speaking more straight-forward and a lot less cryptically.
"Listen to me, bruv. The whole point of being Spider-man is your independence. Being your own boss, you don't need all this!"
I think Hobie saying this reveals a lot about his character, especially understanding the context where he's from. While many Spider-men would agree that being Spider-man is about responsibility and power - to Hobie, it is about independence, and freedom. Hobie is a freedom fighter, and one of the only Spider-men besides Noir that knows how to fight systemic threats as well as physical ones. To him, being Spiderman is about being able to free yourself and others. It's about independence and freedom, and he's trying to nail that in Miles' head one last time.
M: Then why are you here?
"Looking out for my drummer, is all."
As the scene is coming to a close, the writers chose this time to reveal some of Hobie's motivations, starting with the independence comment, and now this. Despite knowing about Gwen's deception towards Miles, he is still looking out for her - and Miles. This is the writers' and Hobie's last push to solidify himself as an ally to Miles and the viewer.
M: I want to be in a band. I want to see my friends, and I need a watch to do that. G: Guys, come on.
"Alright, Squashed. Just don't enlist until you know about who you're fighting."
I genuinely had to sit and ask myself why the writers would choose to leave Hobie's collective effort - a LOT of effort - with this line. And honestly, I think it's a perfect segway. Hobie chooses his words very clearly; He doesn't say 'what', he says 'who'. The next scene leads into Miguel's intro, and up until this point, Miles doesn't know who he is. He only knows about the Society, but never who is at the top. We know about Miguel, but all Miles knows is his name. That's why Hobie says 'who you're fighting'. Because the Society isn't really a Society, and this isn't really between Miles and the Society at all. It's a dictatorship - and the person he's enlisting to fight is Miguel. The perfect introduction and warning to the person he's about to meet. He's telling Miles, 'Don't rush into it. Wait until you meet Miguel first'. And when Miles does meet Miguel, he finally sees that this isn't the place he thought it was, just like Hobie said. ALSO EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY - THIS is one of the lines that is changed between the two versions of spiderverse (there are two theatrical versions on release.) In the alternative he says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting.' And I think that the fact the writers chose to publish two different versions of this line goes to show how powerful they knew this line would be in Miles' characterization. There is so much Hobie has left to say to him, but only one line - and so we get two versions. How fun!
With the scene now over, we see a change in Hobie's demeanor, and I love the writers' choice to have the shot linger on Hobie.
We see him give Miles a look that isn't exactly full of confidence, but from this point forward, Hobie chooses to hang back, no longer having any motivation to instigate. He knows his work here is done, and now all he can really do is wait for Miguel to reveal his true colors, and hope that he got through enough to Miles that he will react, and fight back.
And closing out the scene - I noticed that when Peter B. arrives Hobie pointedly says
"Oh boy, Humbling Reality Spider-man has arrived."
All I'll say about this is Hobie has to be Jamaican cause that was so mfing rude shgjfkghjgjkdfjk
Hobie has about three lines between this point and then end of his screentime - Two of which were his lines to Mayday, and his comment during the canon events.
But there is one shot of him before it all happens. And after this shot the movie begins staging Hobie in specific a very different way than anyone else.
The moment begins with Miles' line 'My Dad is about to be captain.'
The camera pans to each character. Gwen, Peter, and Jess all avert their eyes. Miguel looks at Miles. And Hobie is the only one who looks at all of them. Instead of looking down, he looks to the others, in anticipation of whats going to happen. It's also important to note that this was probably news to Hobie. He probably didn't know Miles' dad was a cop - or at the very least going to be captain. So the understanding of just how much trouble Miles is in kinda multiplies in this moment.
Then, this happens
From this point forward, every time Hobie is portrayed, he is shown as separate from the other characters, always being divided from the group - with Miles as the divider. Even as the camera moves, Hobie visually remains - quite literally - as the only person in Miles' corner. And as the scene goes on, he moves farther and farther into that corner.
Until finally the scene comes to a climax, and Hobie gets two shots to himself - delivering his final lines.
"Here we go." - "Hobie, You're not helping." - "Good."
GUYS IM GONNA CRY OKAY IM GONNA CRY
This is Hobie seeing his work pay off. This is him knowing that he got through to Miles and that it was worth it. He's proud of him.
Hobie knew what he came to do, and he used literally every line he said to Miles to the FULLEST extent. He doesn't give a fuck if he's not helping the Society. He's helping Miles. And now he knows his work is done.
Being a punk is not about being a hero, it's about empowering those who feel powerless. HE UNDERSTOOD THE MOTHERFUCKING ASSIGNMENT.
IN SHORT - HOLLYWOOD PAY YOUR FUCKING WRITERS I SWEAR TO GOD.
if you read this far let me know :) thanks bye
#ill repost the ending as its own post as well yay#hobie brown#spider punk#spiderpunk#miles morales#gwen stacy#jessica drew#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#atsv#atsv analysis#across the spiderverse#spidergwen#spiderwoman#peter parker#peter b parker
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You... Cheater? - Demon Brothers
SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?
(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)
CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)
TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)
WORD COUNT: An average of 470 words per character.
👉 You… Cheater? - Side Characters
COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.
I hope you enjoy ;)
CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom, maybe out shopping for dinner. And he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.
This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.
Lucifer decided to walk up to “you” and have a conversation with “you” right there. But when “you” and the other demon saw him, both ran away. He didn't follow them. He stopped right there and it only took a few seconds for him to realize that something was wrong. That couldn't be you. It does not make sense. You wouldn't cheat on him. Who would?
Part of him doesn't believe it was you because he knows you and your character. But the other part that doesn't believe it was you is his Pride. Cheat on Lucifer? With someone like Diavolo he could understand, but a lower demon? No, that wasn't you, you're not that stupid! However, he can't help but have a very small fear that it really was you. But that one is irrational, it can't be right.
He asks you to go talk to him in his office and, of course, you have no idea what he saw. So, you don't know what he wants to talk to you about.
“Where were you while I was away?” is the first thing he asks after telling you that you can come in. You are confused, but the truth is, you've been playing with Levi in his room. Then some of the other brothers also showed up to play, so you have a lot of alibis.
“Did Solomon ever teach you how to duplicate yourself?” If you respond with "Is that possible?!" and an obvious face of surprise, he will burst out laughing. “I wouldn't be surprised if it was.” he continues and tells you about what he saw on the street.
Your reaction tells him everything he needs to know and confirms his suspicions. “Don't worry, I knew it wasn't you. I just wanted to confirm with you.” he lifts your chin and kisses your lips “I would never fall in love with a cheater.”
And then, he hugs you. It starts out like a normal hug, but after his arms are around you, you feel them tighten slightly. As if that little irrational side of him that worried him was showing how relieved he was that it really wasn't you. As if that little irrational part of him, that told him what he'd seen could be real, was showing you how relieved he was wrong.
“I don't know who those demons were.” He says, slowly breaking the hug and looking at you. “Yet.” You see his eyes, a look very similar to the one he usually has when he wants to punish his brothers. But this one was worse. “I will find out who they were. They need to be reminded why they shouldn't deceive us. Of course you are more than welcome to join me, after all they had the audacity to impersonate you.”
We all know Mammon is the emotional type not the rational one. So... he’s completely desolate, devastated, he’s heart shattered in pieces. It didn't even cross his mind that it might not be you, despite the number of times he said to himself "No, no, no, no, no, no..." He didn't have the courage to face “you”. He even dropped the purchases he made. One of the items he bought was a gift for you. And he run away.
He didn't come home. After all, you were there and seeing you would be too painful. But nobody knew about it. But nobody knew about it. Well, actually he went home, without the groceries and without listening to anyone. He just went straight to his room and left again, but this time on his car. You haven't seen him.
It's when everyone else goes to talk to you about not knowing where he is and being his turn to make dinner that you decide to go to his room and summon him. I mean, you have no idea where he is either. He doesn't respond to your messages. Summoning him will bring him straight to you, straight to home.
He appears and falls on his butt. “OI! WHAT THE-?!” he looks at you. His eyes were reddish and his cheeks wet. You ask what happened, worried. “You... I... You know what happened!” But you don’t. “Yes you do! I saw you! I saw... you two...”
“Us two? You mean Asmo and I? Of course you saw us. You came with us.” You remind him that the three of you went shopping together, but Asmo wanted to buy a new perfume and wanted you to go with him. So Mammon went to buy the rest of the stuff.
He is clearly embarrassed. “W-wait, s-so you were with Asmo the whole time?” Yes, you still even smelled like the perfume he bought. “S-so... you weren't sneaking kissing another demon on the street?” What the heck was he talking about?! Of course not! Does he really thought you would be kissing a random demon on the street when you could be making out with him? Your first?! And you tell him that. He's such a dummy!
He hugs you desperately. And he starts to cry again, but this time with relief. His face on your shoulder, he can't even speak, just sob. As if you just woke him up from a nightmare. You hug him back and kiss him on the forehead.
He really needs some time with you now. He's not really the vindictive type. He just wants you, your love and affection, although it took him a while to admit it. So you two cuddle for a while on his sofa. Until he remembered his car was parked somewhere.
Levi is also a very emotional person but worse: he is the Avatar of Envy. Just like any other sin can blind you, this one is the worst for what he saw. And even even worse, we know he doesn't have a good self-esteem. Put it all together and he never felt worse in his life. He won't talk to "you", he will run back home and lock himself in his room.
You had agreed that when he arrived you would go to his room to play the new game he had gone out to buy. But he didn't tell you he was back. It was one of the brothers who told you that he had seen him arrive and enter the room.
You go to his room, knock on the door, but he doesn't answer. You try as many times as it takes until he says he wants to be alone and doesn't want to talk to anyone. Messages don't work either. Only when you threaten to break down the door does he let you in.
The lights are off and he's hiding under the covers in the bathtub. You ask what's going on and again he takes a long time to answer you. He’s more the type of avoiding talk and/or see you. Listening to you is painful enough already. Worried, you slowly approach and ask again, in your sweetest voice, what was going on.
“I SAW IT, OK!?” he exploded, without coming out from under the covers, his voice cracking. “I... saw it... I saw you... on the street...” He saw you on the street? Was he talking about seeing you and Satan on the book store? “WHAT? No!” He got up, uncovering himself from the blankets. His eyes were reddish and a few tears were still falling down his cheeks. “I saw you kissing that demon on the street.” he calms down a bit and starts talking about that shouldn't surprise him. Even a lower demon was better than him. Of course he would never be enough for you. Someone like him? Of course not. You deserved better. You would even deserve the crown of Devildom...
Well, you don't remember kissing Satan on the street, so you have no idea what he's talking about. You tell him you went out with Satan to the bookstore and you were with him the whole time until you got back home. Levi could ask him. Whoever he saw wasn't you.
It takes a while for him to process that and realize that who he saw really wasn't you. And for him to throw himself into your arms. He's not afraid to cry in front of you, and on your shoulder. His hug is tight, desperately and lovingly tight.
He tells you again about his fear of losing you, of you leaving him. You end up getting in the bathtub with him. Cuddling with and reassuring him. Saying you would never leave him, how much you love him. He needs you now, he needs to recover from the shock that luckily wasn't real.
What have those two demons just done? Envy is a very bad sin to be the avatar of in a situation like that. But even worse is Wrath! Satan instantly assumed his demon form, throws the groceries to who knows where, and walked towards the two. They noticed him approach by the heavy and determined steps and fled. He stopped. “You” looked at him with such fear in “your”eyes, it shocked him.
He didn't mean to hurt “you”, he never would! But “you” hurt him. How could this be happening? You weren't like that, you were so kind and lovable... Wait, you're not like this. Something is wrong. And he only realizes this after stopping and calming down a bit. Something he learned from you. No! You wouldn't do this. Something was really wrong and he needed to talk to you now!
As soon as he gets home, he asks the first brother of his he sees if you are there. And after hearing a yes he runs to your room. Ignoring the "Why? What's going on?" after that yes.
He knocks at your door while calling your name. You open the door and he rushes into the room, closing the door behind you and practically "Kabedon" you against the door. “Have you been here the whole time?” he seems to contain some kind of anger. It worries you a little, but at these times you know you need to be the calm person. And yes, you were home that whole time. In fact, you spent a lot of time helping Mammon with his studies. He practically begged for your help to avoid another punishment from Lucifer.
You seemed sincere, but still: “So, you never left the house? Not even to go shopping?” You think for a moment. But no, pretty sure you never left the House of Lamentation. And the hours of study were very long. You both know what a bad student Mammon is.
He sighs, lowers his head for a moment and then drops down to hug you. It is a tender and relieved hug. “I’m sorry.” he whispers in your ear. “I just... wanted to make sure..." you hug him back and finally feel like it's the right time to ask what's going on.
He tells you what he saw on the street. The shock on your face is further proof to him that it wasn't really you he saw. As he thinks about what that could have been, his expression change. The expression of the true Avatar of Wrath.
“The only explanation is that someone impersonated you. I don't know who they were but I'll find out. And I couldn't care less if there were any reason for them to do that. Nobody tarnishes your name! I will find them, and when I do I'll make them regret even the air they breathe today.”
Asmo doesn't think you are cheating on him. After all he’s the Avatar of Lust, he better than anyone understands the concept of One-night stand. But he can't help but get a sour feeling in his stomach. He used to do one-night stands, but that was before he meet you. After that he couldn't do it anymore, he just wanted you. And he thought you only wanted him. What was happening to him?
He thought of going to you. Ask if he could join. That would look like him, but no, he can't, that's not what he wants to do. It's nothing related to his sin that he wants to do. He felt more like... Levi? Could it be jealousy? Him?! He needed to go home. ASAP!
He does his best to pretend that nothing is wrong, that he just came back from shopping and didn't see anything special. Maybe he'll come up with some story about a purse he saw, just to keep up the facade that everything was fine.
He'll avoid you for awhile, flashing you a smile you knew was fake. It was at dinner time, after he sent a message to the brothers' group saying he didn't feel well and therefore wouldn't have dinner that you decided to go to his room and check on him.
He is reluctant to let you in, but he still wants to show you that everything is fine, so he gives in at the second or third knock. He is sitting on the bed. And not even all the make-up he could put on his face would manage to hide from you the sadness that was really in his eyes. Despite his smile. He tells you not to worry, but it's when you insist that you can tell something is wrong that he decides to tell you the truth.
“I... I wanted to ask you.” he puts back on his everything is fine mask “Who was that new demon friend of yours?” You look confused at him. “I wasn't snooping, I promise. I just ended up seeing you two. You know, even if you try to hide yourself well there is still a possibility that someone will see you making out on the street.” he was forcing a smile, as if wanting to look like he was giving you genuine advice. But you got even more confused. What the heck was he talking about?
“Aww, don't worry hon, I'm not mad. I... think...” he mutters to himself and then goes back to talking to you. “You don't need to hide it from me. I saw it with my own eyes, you know?” you see his eyes water slightly. He's trying so hard not to cry.
But you weren't on that street today. “What?!” he widens his eyes, as if seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You tell him you've been with Lucifer at RAD most of the day, helping him with paperwork. And even when you came home, you came back with him. And that was it. That and you wouldn't making out with a random demon on the streets. You have standards. and they only skyrocketed after you met Asmo.
He believes in you, he always believed in you and you really seemed to be telling the truth. He finally breaks down in tears and jumps out of bed to hug you desperately. He is so happy to know that that wasn't you! But he's still confused about what he felt. He really needs to talk to you about this. But after dinner. His appetite has returned and he is starving.
Beel doesn't know what to do. Should he pretend he didn't see anything? Should he go talk to you? He was so confused. You're not like this. what was happening? He... shouldn't interrupt, should he? He just grabs the groceries and heads home.
None of the groceries survived the trip. He ate up his feelings along the way. Or at least he tried. Lucifer was about to scold him, until he saw the look on his face and he just decided to let him go to his room and talk later. But the truth is, he would ask you to talk to him. And that's because even Belphie couldn't.
Belphie went to the attic to let you two talk alone in their bedroom. You knocked on the door, but Beel didn't answer. He didn't tell you to come in, but he didn't say you couldn't either. You walk in and see him lying on his bed with his back to you.
You slowly walk up to him and ask what's going on. He still doesn't respond. You sit on the bed and when you touch him, he flinches a little. Ok, now you're really worried. You ask him to please tell you what's going on, in your sweet, understanding voice.
He takes a deep breath and then slowly gets up to sit on the bed beside you. He still can't look at you. He doesn't look upset, just sad and confused. “I saw you on the street.” he calmly explains, with a sadness in the voice that breaks your heart “With that demon.”
What demon? What street? You haven't even left the house today. “What?!” he finally looks at you. He hadn't cried yet, but he was close to it. You tell him you didn't leave the house. You were even in the Planetarium with Belphie while Beel went shopping.
He believes in you, he always did and he never had any reason not to. And the same goes for Belphie. “So it wasn't you I saw on the street kissing another demon?” What? Of course not! What was he talking about?
He doesn't explain, he just smiles hugely and gives you one of his bear hugs. He tells you what he saw while hugging you. He doesn't care what he saw. He doesn't want to know who did it. The only thing that matters is that it wasn't really you. The real you was there, with him, hugging him back and letting him kiss you and kissing him back.
Then you hear his stomach rumble like a beast. His appetite had returned, and with a vengeance.
What the F*ck was going on?! Did that filthy lower demon make you do that? Were you under some spell? Belphie was going to put an end to it NOW! He assumed his demon form, throws the groceries away and rushed towards “you”. But when “you” two see him, “you” run away. He runs after the two, but unfortunately for him, the demon manages to outrun him.
He comes back home looking for you and without the groceries. When Lucifer sees him and prepares to lecture him for not bringing the groceries, Belphie stops him and asks if you are at home. It’s important! Something might have happened to you. Lucifer says you're in your room and lets Belphie run to your door.
You hear him knocking urgently at your door. You open the door, and seeing the seriousness on his face you ask what happened. He stands still in silence for a moment, looking at you, analysing. Then he comes in and lets you close the door.
“Did you leave the house today?” he asks calmly. You say yes. “Where did you go?” That was weird, he wasn't the stalking type, he was too lazy for that. That and he was never like that, much less with Beel. You went with Beel to a new pastry shop that opened to try their drinks and sweets. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time there. You had to drag Beel back home because it was getting late. You two had only arrived home shortly before Belphie himself.
“You never left his side?” No. Why would you? You love hanging out with Beel. By the way you speak and your confused expression, he knows you're telling the truth. And his straight face instantly turns into a reassured, lazy laugh. “Ha ha ha. I knew that was weird. It wasn't even you.” And now that his good mood was back, you could safely ask what the heck was going on.
“Ummmmm... I'm too tired to tell. At least standing. You know, I saw something that made me worry about you, so I ran back to see if you were all right. I'm so sleepy right now. What if I told you while we cuddle in your bed?” That sly bastard, taking advantage of a subject like that for cuddles.
He tells you what happened while the two of you are in bed. But even though he's relaxed in your arms he doesn't fall asleep. “That was probably some demon impersonating you with some shapeshifting spell.” he says “If they had done that to me, I wouldn't care. But since you were the one they did this to, I'll make sure to find them and break their neck.” he said with a cute smile and already half asleep, which only made the threat worse. And then finally fell asleep in your arms.
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
#Obey Me#obey me shall we date#obey me imagines#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me fluf#obey me x reader#obey me Lucifer#obey me Lucifer x Reader#obey me Mammon#obey me Mammon x Reader#obey me Leviathan#obey me Leviathan x Reader#obey me Levi#obey me Levi x Reader#obey me Satan#obey me Satan x Reader#obey me Asmodeus#obey me Asmodeus x Reader#obey me Asmo#obey me Asmo x Reader#obey me Beelzebub#obey me Beelzebub x Reader#obey me Beel#obey me Beel x Reader#obey me Belphegor#obey me Belphegor x Reader#obey me Belphie#obey me Belphie x Reader
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can you do a emily engstler x reader fluff were the reader and Emily act like a old married couple ( the reader and emily only been marry for a year ) when they go out to eat with emily teammates
can you also make it were the reader is short
Like an old married couple
Pairing: Emily Engstler x Reader
Word count: 1518
My masterlist :)
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The restaurant was buzzing with the usual Saturday night energy. Emily's teammates had all gathered for a post-game dinner, filling the large table with laughter and conversation. You and Emily had only been married for a year, but to anyone watching, it seemed like you’d been together for decades.
You were perched on your chair, feet dangling a few inches off the floor due to your shorter height, while Emily sat beside you, her long legs stretched comfortably under the table. You reached for the menu, but Emily was already handing it to you, knowing that you liked to check the specials first.
"Here, love," she said with a gentle smile, placing the menu in your hands.
"Thanks, sweetheart," you replied, your tone soft and affectionate.
Emily’s teammates, sitting across from you, exchanged amused glances. They were used to the way you two interacted, like a couple that had long since settled into each other's rhythms. But they still found it endearing.
As you skimmed the menu, Emily leaned closer to peek over your shoulder. "I think you'd like the grilled salmon. It’s not too heavy, and you always love the way they season it here."
You nodded, trusting her judgement. "Yeah, that sounds perfect. And you’re getting the steak, right? You always do."
Emily chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You know me too well."
One of her teammates, Tori, smirked and leaned forward. "You guys really are like an old married couple. I mean, you've only been hitched for a year, but you act like it's been twenty."
You grinned, leaning into Emily’s side. "What can I say? We just fit."
Emily squeezed your shoulder, her voice teasing as she said, "Besides, it's not like I could let you go around ordering something you won’t like. You’d just end up stealing all of my fries."
You shot her a playful glare. "As if you don't love sharing them with me."
The table erupted in laughter, the banter flowing easily. Emily’s teammates teased you both relentlessly, but it was all in good fun. They admired the way you two interacted, the comfort and love that was so evident between you.
When the waiter came to take your orders, Emily didn’t hesitate to order for both of you, knowing exactly how you liked your food prepared. You didn’t even have to say a word, just nodding in agreement as she spoke.
After the waiter left, Emily turned back to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You okay? Not too tired, I hope."
You shook your head, smiling up at her. "Nope, I’m good. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy."
She kissed the top of your head, a simple gesture that made your heart swell. "Good. I want you to enjoy tonight."
As the evening went on, you and Emily continued to exchange little moments of affection—sharing bites of food, holding hands under the table, and occasionally leaning in to whisper something that would make the other laugh. Her teammates kept watching you both, some making playful comments, others just smiling at the way you two seemed so perfectly in sync.
At one point, you noticed one of her teammates struggling to decide what to order. Without missing a beat, you nudged Emily with your elbow, a knowing look on your face. Emily grinned, immediately catching on to your silent request.
"Hey, Aaliyah," Emily called out, "Y/N thinks you should try the chicken Alfredo. It’s her go-to when she’s feeling indecisive."
Aaliyah looked at you both with a raised eyebrow but smiled nonetheless. "You two really are in sync, huh?"
You shrugged, leaning against Emily as she draped an arm around your shoulders. "We just know each other well, I guess."
The food arrived, and as expected, Emily immediately offered you a bite of her steak, holding the fork out for you. You didn’t hesitate to lean forward and take the bite, savoring the flavor.
"Mmm, perfect as always," you said, licking your lips.
Emily chuckled, cutting another piece for herself. "You’re just saying that because it’s mine."
The playful banter continued throughout the meal, with Emily’s teammates throwing in their own comments and jokes about how you two were the epitome of relationship goals. It didn’t bother either of you; in fact, it only made you both feel more secure in what you had.
When the bill came, you reached for it out of habit, but Emily was quicker, already pulling out her wallet. "I've got it," she said firmly.
You pouted, crossing your arms. "I wanted to treat you this time."
Emily chuckled, handing the waiter her card. "Next time, darling. Tonight’s on me."
Her teammates watched this exchange with raised eyebrows, Tori speaking up again. "Seriously, you two are goals. I can’t even get my partner to text me back, and here you are fighting over who gets to pay."
You shrugged, leaning your head on Emily’s shoulder. "When you’ve found the right person, it just happens naturally."
Emily kissed your forehead, her eyes filled with warmth. "That’s right."
As the group started to gather their things to leave, Emily stood up and offered you her hand, helping you down from your chair. You smiled up at her, your height difference even more noticeable now that you were standing.
"You know, I could get used to this," you said, looping your arm through hers as you walked out of the restaurant.
Emily grinned, her voice playful. "You already have, my little love."
Her teammates walked behind you, still chuckling at the sight of you two. But all you could focus on was the warmth of Emily’s arm around you, the comfort of knowing that no matter how many years passed, you’d always have each other. Just like an old married couple—only better because this was just the beginning of your forever.
The drive home was quiet but comfortable, the city lights casting a warm glow inside the car. Emily’s hand rested on your thigh, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles as she drove. You leaned your head against the window, a contented smile playing on your lips as you thought about the night.
"You know," you started, breaking the silence, "I really love nights like this."
Emily glanced over at you, her expression softening. "Me too. It’s nice to just relax and be with you without any distractions."
You nodded, feeling a surge of affection for her. "And your teammates are great. I love how they tease us, but you can tell they’re happy for us."
Emily smiled, her hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. "They are. They’ve seen how much happier I’ve been since we got together. You’ve been good for me, you know?"
You chuckled, reaching over to intertwine your fingers with hers. "You’re not so bad yourself, Engstler."
Emily’s laugh was warm and genuine, filling the car with a sense of peace. "Well, I’m glad you think so."
When you finally arrived home, you both moved through the familiar routine of kicking off your shoes, hanging up your coats, and heading into the living room. It was second nature at this point, the way you moved around each other with such ease, as if you’d been living together for years.
You collapsed onto the couch with a sigh, watching as Emily grabbed a couple of glasses and poured some water. She handed you one before sitting beside you, her arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders as you snuggled into her side.
"I’m really glad we did this tonight," you said, taking a sip of your water.
"Me too," Emily agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love spending time with you, even if it’s just something simple like going out to dinner."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We should do it more often. It’s nice to just be out with you, you know?"
Emily nodded, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. "Absolutely. But honestly, even just sitting here with you like this is perfect to me."
You tilted your head up to look at her, your heart swelling with affection. "You’re such a sap, you know that?"
Emily laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Only for you, my love."
You couldn’t help but smile, leaning up to press a soft kiss to her lips. "Good, because I plan on keeping you around for a long time."
Emily returned the kiss, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity as she replied, "You’re stuck with me, little one. For now and forever."
As you settled back into her embrace, you realised that it didn’t matter how many years you’d been together or how many more were to come. What mattered was that you had each other, and that was more than enough.
In the quiet of your home, wrapped up in Emily’s arms, you knew that this was the kind of love that people searched for their entire lives. And you had found it, right here, in the person who made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.
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Isak speaks: Low-key surprised I wrote something this cute wtf
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Your fics are amazing!
Lestat and y/n remind me of a scene on what we do in the shadows:
Lestat: i would like to say that i think all marriage is a sham except mine with my darling wife y/n
Reader: ☺️👋
Btw do NOT feel pressured to put out content, this is suppose to be a safe space for creators and i am sure that the rest of the readers feel that way.
Kisses 💋
001
thank you 🥰 your words of encouragement mean so much to me 🩷 i prefer lengthy fics myself and so naturally i like to make my stories a bit long. i know that a few of you guys enjoy my writing and are wondering what is taking so long, so i really appreciate the understanding. i am also posting the requests at the same time, so you guys can have a few new posts to read instead of one. anyways, that so seems like him 😂 i literally came up with a tiny imagine for this 😙
“and what about you two, are you married?” the young woman asked you.
she and her husband were tourists in new orleans, choosing the city for their honeymoon. you spotted the newly wedded couple in the restaurant, they were the perfect meal for the night. although, you found them slightly interesting, forcing lestat to sit through the dull conversation.
“yes, lestat took longer than most, but we’ve been married for what feels like an eternity,” you laughed.
it had been only a few decades since you’d become mrs. de lioncourt, compared to your century of love.
“forgive me, ma chèrie,” lestat said lowly, as he kissed your hand.
“i didn’t grow up with the best example of marriage,” he said, a sly grin on his face.
“that’s a shame, my pa married my mama after only a month of knowing her, they’ve been together for over 30 years,” the husband bragged. you resisted the urge to laugh, watching as lestat went from grinning to frowning in disgust.
“you know what i find shameful? humans and their boresome matrimonies. you have no real reason other than legality burdens and for misogynistic idiots like yourself to have an at-home womb and servant,” lestat told the man, his nose turned up to him.
“that’s quite a harsh thing to say when you’re married yourself,” the young bride told him, furrowing her eyebrows.
“exactly, miss…y/n, was it? you sure have a handful on your hands,” the groomsman laughed, awkwardly.
slowly looking over at you, you smiled as you met his eyes, his fingertips softly brushing against your jaw.
“our marriage is beyond anything you've experienced in your short life, or your insufficient parents, the epitome of all things neither of your insolent brains could ever understand. your marriage is useless, nothing more than a piece of paper, and if you permit her beautiful name to even slip from your thoughts, let alone your tongue again, i will rip out your spine from-
“lestat,” you called his name, he stopped instantly, facing you.
“yes love?” he asked, his eyes softened. over the years, despite being your maker, he found himself willingly under your command, doing any and everything in his power to please you.
“don’t scare them too badly, honey, the blood will change its course, and taste funny,” you told him, your usual soft smile in place.
the couple was by now confused and disturbed, looking around for the safest exit.
“my apologies, ma chèrie,” he shook his head.
“you don't have to apologize, shall we eat?”
“ladies first,” he nodded, as you both bare your teeth, to plunge into your meals.
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A Handsome Stranger
Dimitri Kraminoff x Reader
Summary: You meet with a handsome stranger in a bar where he sings.
It was a new place for you.
You have never been to such a bar before. It was sophisticated.
You heard rumours that this place belongs to the mafia.
You worried that might come up and haunt you.
But all your worries disappeared when your eyes locked with the singer.
A young man with the voice of an angel. He was able to copy anyone's voice and sing. It was truly mesmerising.
But it wasn't just his voice that captured your attention and captivated you.
He was also absolutely handsome.
His beautiful blonde hair, curly, his eyes so beautiful and you felt like they looked right through you and into your soul.
He was watching you, you could tell he was.
So, naturally, you got up and left.
Running away.
You didn't want to lull yourself into beliefs you knew were not true. To fantasize of a man who would never want anything from you.
You knew better than to allow yourself to dream and get hurt.
But you couldn't forget him.
You would ask yourself, "But did you go back?"
Of course, you did.
You went back to the bar and sat at the furthest table from the stage.
But his eyes still found you.
And this time, you couldn't get away.
Like a predator with its prey, he walked over to you, maintaining his eye contact, it felt so intense.
Take your breath away.
Before you knew it, he was sitting across from you asking for your name and for a new drink to be brought to you.
You felt like you couldn't breathe.
---
You got into the elevator, and let out a long sigh.
Your back hurt, your feet hurt, your eyes hurt and you were beyond tired.
Work was demanding.
You opened the door to your apartment and let out a long sigh.
You noticed the pair of shoes by the door.
"Dimi?" you called into the apartment.
"Kitchen." his reply came as you took off your shoes and jacket.
"Oh." you turned the corner and entered the kitchen, it smelled heavenly in there. "What are you doing?"
"Cooking some spaghetti with that cheese sauce you like so much."
"How did you know this is exactly what I wanted?" you walked over to him as he opened his arms and kissed your cheek.
"Go shower and change. I will be done by the time you are ready."
"You are perfect." you gave him one kiss on the cheek.
After your shower, you change into something comfortable.
Just as he promised, food was ready by the time you got out of the shower.
"This is so good," you said as you bit into your pasta.
"You work too hard. I told you, you don't have to work, I have enough money." Dimitri said and you looked at him.
You had this conversation many times, one even ended with a fight.
"I know," you said with a sigh. "But I still want to work. This week was rough, but I will survive. And it was all worth it to come home and have you cook for me." you smiled at him and he smiled back.
After dinner, you two sat down and decided to watch a movie.
You cuddled into him as his arm held you close occasionally placing a small kiss on your head.
You loved these moments when it was only the two of you.
Not his father or brother.
Just you two.
A/N: Testing the waters with this one. The above picture is not mine! Credit goes to the owner. There will be more to come! Hope you enjoyed it!
Taglist:
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#kraven the hunter#kraven the hunter x reader#kraven the hunter imagine#kraven the hunter imagines#kraven the hunter movie#kraven the hunter fanfiction#kraven the hunter fanfic#Dimitri Kraminoff x Reader#Dimitri Kraminoff x you#Dimitri Kraminoff imagine#Dimitri Kraminoff imagines#Dimitri Kraminoff fanfiction#Dimitri Kraminoff fanfic#Dimitry Kraminoff x reader#Dimitry Kraminoff x you#Dimitry Kraminoff imagine#Dimitry Kraminoff imagines#fred hechinger character
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David and Michael talk about the S2 Finale 🥺
David and Michael interview with Kim Roots from TVLine, about the S2 finale. July 2023 [S2 Promo: C: I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team, a grou p. And we spend our existence pretending that we aren't.]
KR: What happens in the finale between Crowley and Aziraphale is something that some fans have been yearning for a very long time. Was there a pressure? Did you have any conversations about what this might mean to the fandom? Talk to me a little bit about like when you found out this was going to happen and kind of your initial reactions.
Michael: Well, you know, the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley, obviously, is something that the audience seemed to really warm to, and obviously was part of why the idea of doing Season 2, you know, seemed like it could be something that could work. Following how that relationship develops has been something that the audiences have really got into. So we've taken that very seriously, and Neil takes it incredibly seriously. So tracking that relationship and that journey between them, because obviously on the surface, they seem like they're complete opposites, and yet clearly, they're kind of compelled towards each other in all kinds of ways. And now that they've been being cut off from their respective head offices, they only have each other, so that pulls them together a lot more, doesn't it? And the stakes are always high around them, and they sort of end up going on a journey together, but it takes them to different places and where we leave things at the end..
David: Well, that's the thing. Nothing is resolved. So whatever happens and whatever you may have seen at the end of Episode 6, it's also important to note that that doesn't finish the story. In fact, that just sor of ruptures things.
Michael: It's the start of another story.
[S2 Promo: A: I forgive. C: Don't bother.]
David:I think you have to be careful if there is something delicate that has generated a lot of excitement about where will that end up. As soon as you end up there, as soon as you finish that story, it's all over, isn't it?
Michael: You don't really want to find out who killed Laura Palmer. [Twin Peaks series plot]
David: Yeah, exactly. Exactly.
KR Like you said, David, there is no resolution, which made me very happy because this feels primed for a third go-around at some point. Have you had any conversations about that with Neil about possibly keeping the story going?
David: Well, if you've seen where Series 2 ends, there's certainly the teasing of further tales to come, isn't there? Whether we will ever find out what those tales are is in the lap of... well, certainly not on our lap.
Michael: No, it's on the laps of the audience.
David: Laps of the audience, yes.
Michael: We are sitting firmly...
David: In the tops of the audience as it streaming.
Michael: Yeah, it's not in my lap. I know that. When we first started Series 1, we always knew that the story went a lot further because Neil and Terry had talked about it. They just hadn't written it down, but we knew there were ideas, and we have not yet reached the end of those ideas.
David: No.
Michael: You know, if we get a chance to tell more of this story, it does already exist.
David: Yes.
#good omens#gos2#season 2#interview#david tennant#michael sheen#david interview#michael interview#david and michael#david and michael interview#videos#2ep6#s2 finale#2i6i15#gos3#season 3#videos transcripts#tvline#dm tvline interview 2023#ac#interview videos#s2 interview#transcripts
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