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pedrospatch · 2 years

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loved her first

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: It's been two and a half years since you and Joel left your baby daughter in Bill and Frank's care; when a surprise thunderstorm strands the two of you in Lincoln for the night, you unexpectedly witness Joel bond with her.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. hints at Frank's deteriorating health condition, he is not bound to a wheelchair quite yet; glimpses of girldad!Joel, babygirl name reveal, angst, mention of Sarah. time jump to 2023, takes place a few months prior to Ellie coming into their lives.

word count 5.5k

A/N: um...this turned out to be more angsty than planned.

April, 2023

You watched her as she twirled around in front of the flower bushes, a small smile tugging lightly at the corners of your mouth.

Frank had mentioned before that she absolutely adored flowers; he’d also told you about how she loved being outdoors and how she would gladly, happily, abandon all of her dolls and other toys in exchange for frolicking outside. You’d had a difficult time believing him on that, but there you were, sitting just a few feet away, witnessing first hand with your very own eyes that it was actually true. She seemed to be having the time of her life spinning around and around in front of the array of colorful roses, petunias, and begonias that Bill and Frank had planted around the house right after the winter season had come and gone. It was so incredibly innocent, so endearingly pure, a beautiful sight that you already knew you would be constantly replaying on a loop in your memory for the rest of your life—memories of her were all you had. It wasn’t enough for you, though, not even fucking close; the memories of your daughter you took home were what kept you from losing your sanity, but they were nothing compared to what you actually wanted, which was to be her mother.

Because you were her mother.

You held back a small sigh, your gaze still locked on every part of her.

She wore the sweetest, springtime dress that surely must have come from the boutique—light sky blue with an intricate eyelet embroidery, a sash made from the same exact fabric tied around her waist into an adorably perfect bow at the back of it. A pair of darling, strappy white ballet flats adorned her tiny feet, and although Frank had put her into a soft, knitted white cardigan to help keep her warm against a sudden and unexpected chilly afternoon breeze that swept through the town, the child had sneakily shrugged herself out of it when she noticed he wasn’t paying attention. Noticing the dark, gloomy clouds that began to slowly but surely make their way over the neighborhood, you stood up from the table and walked over to the spot on the front lawn, right beside the porch, where she had discarded her cardigan.

Picking it up, you lightly dusted it off and made sure it was clean. You then called out to her, gently. “Hey.” You smiled as she stopped in her tracks mid-spin, looking over at you with curiosity. You beckoned her over with your hand. “Come here, sweet girl.”

She skipped over to you, and you instinctively lowered yourself to her eye level as you spoke to her.

“The sun is gone.” You pointed up towards the skies. “That means it’s time for you to put this on so you don’t get cold. Okay?”

She wrinkled her little nose, but agreed, “Okay.” She held her arms up and out to you, as if to tell you to put it on for her.

You helped her back into it, though you left it unbuttoned so as not to cover up her pretty dress. “There we go. Don’t take it off again, okay? At least not while we’re outside.” You noticed a slight look of mischief cross her features and playfully pointed your index finger at her. “I am being so serious, young lady. Promise me that you won’t take it off?”

“I won’t,” she swore. Though she spoke fairly clearly now, she still had hints of toddler pronunciation; she could enunciate several words but she was still learning to properly talk. “Promise I won’t take it off.”

You reached out, briefly touching her soft cheek. “That’s a good girl,” You murmured, letting your thumb sweet across her satin skin. Every single part of you longed for even more contact with her, you yearned with every fucking fiber in your entire being to take her into your arms and hold her close; however, there was a very fine line that was not to be crossed, much less when Bill and Frank were sitting just a few feet away. You gave her cheek a light, teasing pinch and finally found it in you to withdraw your hand away from her face.

She grinned at you and a deep, prominent dimple appeared in her left cheek. You’d first noticed it during your visit on her first birthday.

There had always been something new for you to notice during each visit; a new tooth, an additional inch to her height, the way her face was no longer as round and pudgy as it had been when she was an infant. This time around, it was her hair that had caught your attention. It fell in long, dark brown waves to just about the middle of her back.

Her voice broke into your train of thought. “Can I go play now?”

You nodded and rose to your feet. “Of course, sweet girl. Just be very careful, alright?”

“I will.” She bobbed her head up and down at you and then went right back to her twirling, letting out an adorable giggle at the way the skirt of her dress swayed along with her movement.

You made your way back over to the table and took your seat. Picking up your glass of red wine, you took a quick sip before glancing over at Frank and remarking, “Her hair’s gotten really long.” You took another sip and then set your glass down, abandoning it in favor of the white pearl that hung from the silver chain around your neck. Holding it gingerly in your hand, you thought back to the day Joel had given it to you a little over two years ago. Presenting you with your daughter’s birthstone to carry with you had to have been one of the most loving, incredible things that he’d ever done for you. It was your most prized and cherished possession and although he didn’t like you wearing it outside of the apartment, it’d been a year since the last time you had taken it off. Anyone who tried to jump you for it would get a blade lodged into their skull. “Has she had her first haircut yet?”

“Nope. She refuses to let me anywhere near her with a pair of shears. As soon as she sees them in my hand, she runs,” Frank explained. He offered you a small, fatigued smile. He’d briefly mentioned to you the night before he hadn’t been feeling all too well over the last few days, but he still insisted that you and Joel still make the trip to Lincoln for lunch. “She calls it her princess hair—she said she wants to grow it as long as Rapunzel’s.”

You hummed. “Long hair suits her,” You told him after a minute. “Doesn’t it, Joel?”

You were met with no response and turned to glance at Joel.

He sat beside you at the table, sipping silently on his glass of wine; he hadn’t seemed to have heard you, and for once, it wasn’t because the hearing in his right ear was failing him. Joel hadn’t heard you because he was too distracted. His eyes were fixed intently on the toddler, and even when you reached out and touched his arm in an attempt to get his attention, his gaze remained latched onto her. He looked on with a mixture of different, conflicting emotions—of them all, it was sadness that took center stage. Joel often tried to keep his own feelings under wraps, for your sake, more than anything. He was your partner and he was your protector, he was your shoulder to lean on and the glue that, despite the circumstances, held everything together somehow.

He kept it all from crumbling down. For you, always for you.

You appreciated Joel trying to hold strong for you, but you wished he wouldn’t, not when you knew he was hurting too—hurting over Sarah and hurting over the daughter that was right there in front of him, but whose life he was missing out on. She was growing quickly, changing so fucking much each and every time he saw her, and he could hardly stand that he wasn’t around to witness it. Glimpses of her and her life were all that you and Joel were given, and you know that killed him as much as it killed you.

“Gracie!” Bill said her name in a scolding tone. He’d been sitting in his chair with his back to her, but he knew exactly what she was up to; he had developed something of a sixth sense when it came to her. “You just had lunch, you’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t cut that out! You’d better come and sit your little butt down right now or it’s a timeout for you, missy!”

She stopped for a second, smirked at his back, and then continued to twirl around.

Joel snorted into his wine, amused by her rebelliousness.

“Honey, come on. Be good and listen to daddy.” Frank glanced tiredly over his shoulder. “You don’t want to make yourself dizzy, do you?”

Gracie stopped and let out a teeny, frustrated huff; just seconds later, a white butterfly garnered her attention and she took off across the front lawn, chasing after it.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, shaking his head. He set his wine glass down on the table and leaned back into his chair. “Does she ever get tired? I’m exhausted just from watchin’ her run around.”

“She’s been so energetic lately,” Frank said. He picked up his fork and pushed his vegetables around on his plate; you’d noticed that he had hardly eaten any of his meal. “Sometimes we can hardly keep up with her. But the bright side of letting her run around is that when bedtime comes around, she’s just about all tuckered out. Isn’t she, Bill?”

Bill scoffed. “If we’re lucky. The kid’s like the damn Energizer Bunny.”

You giggled. Looking over at Gracie, you noticed that she was in one of the bushes and your smile faded slightly. “Oh, um, she’s—” You stopped and simply nodded your head over in her direction, worried that she would get into the roses and accidentally prick herself with a thorn.

Bill looked over his shoulder. He sighed, “She’s digging in the flowers again, Frank.”

“Oh Gracie, honey please don’t pick the flowers—”

But it was too late.

She stepped back from the bush, clutching a tiny handful of Frank’s beloved white begonias. She then ran over to her parents; she first handed a flower to Frank and then one to Bill, who, despite trying his best to keep a stern face, cracked the tiniest of smiles as he accepted it from her.

“It’s so hard to put her in time out when she does things like this,” Frank chuckled, shaking his head. He smoothed her hair back from her face, lovingly tucking it behind her ear. “You’re just the most innocent little troublemaker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Gracie gave him a tiny nod, and he let his hand drop from her hair as she turned around and walked around the table towards you. Falling into step beside your chair, she held up a flower for you.

Your entire body radiated with a pleasant warmth as you took it from her. Taking the side of her face into the palm of your hand, you leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’m going to keep this forever and ever.” And you would. You planned on pressing it into a book the moment you arrived back in the QZ.

She smiled at you and then she let her gaze flicker curiously over to Joel. You could see her debating it over in her mind—besides the polite little hello that Frank would push her to say whenever you two came over, Gracie rarely ever interacted with him. She wasn’t afraid of him, but even at the tender age of two, she could sense the man’s quiet and serious nature and she knew to keep her distance. It was something of an unspoken, mutual agreement between the two of them; Joel always kept his distance from her too.

After a minute, she finally plucked up some courage and squeezed past you. She went up to the side of Joel’s chair and placed her tiny hand on his bare forearm, giving it a gentle pat as if to call for his attention.

You could almost feel the way he momentarily froze, stiffening beneath her touch.

“Gracie, don’t—” Bill started to say, however Frank held a hand up to stop him.

“Wait, Bill,” he said, quietly. “Let her.”

“Here,” Gracie uttered softly, holding out the last begonia to him.

Joel’s heart had all but leapt up into his throat. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he lifted a hand and accepted it. When he spoke, he sounded almost breathless. “Thank you.”

“It’s pretty,” she told him, shyly nodding at the flower now in his hand.

“Very pretty,” he agreed. He paused briefly, then touched it to the tip of it to her nose. “Just like you.”

Gracie beamed at him.

Just like you and your momma, he wanted to tell her. Of course, he knew better than to say such a thing out loud in front of Bill and Frank.

“Gracie, honey, what do you say when someone says something nice to you?” Frank prompted her from across the table.

She looked at him, then bashfully turned back to Joel. “Thank you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and seconds later came the crashing sound of thunder.

Startled by the loud noise, Gracie let out a small yelp and found herself in between Joel’s legs, tugging desperately at his denim shirt. Before his mind and body could even make the connection, he picked her up and hoisted her into his lap and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, a small whimper escaping her.

Bill and Frank exchanged a look of complete shock with one another.

Even you watched on with your lips parted in absolute bewilderment.

You’d only ever seen her in his arms once—when she’d been a newborn.

“It’s alright darlin’,” Joel soothed her, lightly patting her back. “It’s nothin’ but a little bit of thunder. It’s tellin’ us that the rain is comin’ soon, and you know what that means?”

Reluctantly, Gracie pulled her face out of his neck and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes—the very same dark brown eyes she’d inherited from him. “What?”

“More flowers,” he whispered to her, giving her a small grin.

“Really?” she squeaked excitedly.

“Oh, speaking of the rain, here come those April showers.” Frank held out his hand, having felt the first drop. Before he could even utter the warning for everyone to move inside, it suddenly began to pour; the rain came down hard and fast, as if someone up in the clouds had turned on a garden hose. “Everyone in the house!”

Bill helped him out of his chair, slipping an arm around his back. You noticed him struggle alone to help Frank and quickly hurried around the table, taking his other arm, and the both of you helped him up the lawn towards the house.

Joel stood up with Gracie still in his arms; he hurried towards the house behind the rest of you, using his hand to shield her from the rain as best as he could manage, though she ended up getting soaked, just like everyone else.

Once inside, he set her down on her feet. Another round of thunder struck, rattling the walls of the house.

Gasping, Gracie threw her arms around Joel’s leg.

Bill raised an eyebrow, pushing his drenched hair away from his face. “I’ve never seen her get this close to you before.”

“She’s just spooked, that’s all.” Joel cleared his throat awkwardly and reached down, carefully peeling her off of him. He placed his hand on her back and gently nudged her towards him. “Go to daddy.”

“Well, that’s a nice lunch ruined,” Frank sighed heavily. “Gracie, let’s get you upstairs and changed into dry clothes.” He reached down to pick her up, but struggled lifting her into his arms, a problem that you had never seen him have before; a bizarre expression crossed his face and he turned to Bill. “Help me carry her upstairs to her room?”

Bill nodded, picking her up. “Come on, kiddo.”

Crestfallen, Frank watched him as he carried her up the staircase.

“Frank? Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, placing a hand on his arm.

He nodded, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. I think I just need some rest.” He noticed the skeptical expression on your face and before you could ask him again, he changed the subject. “You two are more than welcome to stay and wait for the storm to pass before heading out.”

Several hours later, and the torrential downpour continued on with no signs of stopping any time soon.

“We’ll be fine,” You assured Frank as you began looking in your pack for your windbreaker. You found it in the top zipper, and pulled it out; although it would hardly do anything to shield you from the cold and heavy rainfall, it would have to do. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been out and about in a storm like this.”

“Nonsense,” he said, taking the jacket out of your hands. After taking a long nap earlier that evening, he appeared to be in better spirits. He still appeared tired, but he seemed to be moving around with more ease, an indication that he had gained a bit of his strength back. “You two can spend the night down here in the guest bedroom.”

“That’s very kind, Frank. But Bill wouldn’t like that.”

“I already talked him into it. He’s not too happy, but as usual, he’ll get over it.” Frank saw you about to protest and he held up a hand. “Can you just make this easy and graciously accept the offer please?”

You chuckled. You had known him for a few years now and you knew the man was as stubborn as stubborn could be. “Alright, alright. We’ll stay the night.”

“Good.” Frank smiled and handed you your jacket back. “The guest bedroom is down the hall, second door on the left. Make yourselves right at home. If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”

Joel nodded, taking your hand in his. “We appreciate this a whole lot, Frank. Thank you.”

“Of course. You two get some sleep, alright?” He bid the two of you a final goodnight before disappearing upstairs.

With your hand still in his, Joel led the way down the hallway towards the bedroom. He opened the door and flipped on the lights; the room was on the smaller side, but it was still decently spacious, at least for you it was, especially when compared it to the tiny bedroom you and Joel shared with Tess in the QZ. Frank had furnished it with gorgeous antique furniture that you were almost certain he’d refurbished on his own. What really caught your eye, however, was the bed in the middle of the room; it was a large, queen sized bed decorated with a soft, red and gold duvet and matching pillows.

“I’m so used to that old, ripped mattress we have back at home,” You remarked with a small laugh.

Joel squeezed your hand. He was thrilled to have the chance to sleep in such a comfortable looking bed, but more importantly, he found a sense of relief that for the first time in a long time, you would be able to lay in clean sheets and rest your head on a soft pillow. “Looks like we’ll both be gettin’ a good night’s sleep for once.”

Grinning, you tilted your head up towards his, your lips meeting his in a kiss. “Guess being stormed in has its perks,” You murmured against his mouth. You dropped his hand and stepped away from him, pulling your pack off your shoulders and placing it onto the bed. Unzipping it at the top, you opened it up and started rummaging around inside of it, hoping that you had a spare t-shirt that you could sleep in. As Joel started doing the same, you couldn’t help but remark, “Gracie seems to have taken a sudden liking to you.”

He quickly shook his head. “I don’t think so—”

“Joel, she gave you a flower.”

“She gave everyone a flower,” he reminded you. “Not just me.”

“What about the way she just jumped into your arms?”

He scoffed. “The thunder startled her and I was sitting closest to her. She would have jumped into the fuckin’ Boogeyman’s arms if he had been closest to her.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness. “Okay, what about the fact that she wanted to sit next to you at the dinner table tonight? Or how she decided to introduce you to all of her dolls one by one?”

Joel paused from digging into his pack, his jaw clenching slightly as he mulled over his thoughts in hid mind. “Do you think Gracie senses somethin’ about me?” he asked you quietly after a minute or two of silence.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you asking me that? Do you think she senses something about you?”

“I’d sure as hell hope not. Wouldn’t make Bill and Frank too happy. In fact, it would move me even higher up Bill’s shit list. I can tell that he wasn’t all too happy with the way she was clingin’ to me earlier.” Joel sighed and finally looked up, turning to you. “She looks so much like us, you know. The older she gets, the more I can actually see it. She’s equal parts you, equal parts me. Makes me worry about her noticin’ it someday.”

“Joel, she’s a toddler for Christ’s sake. It’ll be years before that could even happen. And sure she looks a lot like us now, but as children get older their features start to change and—” You stopped, realizing Joel had stopped listening to you.

His eyes were fixed on something over your shoulder, his lips parted slightly.

“Joel, what are you—?” You turned around.

Gracie stood there at the door of the bedroom, which the two of you had left open. She was barefoot, wearing a light pink nightdress; she held her hands behind her back as she simply looked at you and Joel.

“Gracie? Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed? How on earth did you get down here all by yourself?” Your heart squeezed in your chest when you realized that she could have easily fallen down the stairs and gotten hurt.

“Think she’s got somethin’ there, baby,” Joel noticed. He walked over to her and lowered himself down to one knee in front of her. Although he was sure Bill wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave one of his guns or other weapons lying around unsecured, part of him couldn’t help but worry about what she had in her hands. He held out his hand. “Can I see what you’ve got there, little darlin’?”

She nodded, almost eagerly, and showed him the object she’d been holding behind her back—a children’s book.

You let out a small breath of relief. “Oh thank god.”

Joel took it from her. “Goodnight, Moon,” he read the cover out loud, feeling his heart sink deep into the pits of his stomach. Looking over his shoulder at you, he let out a sharp exhale, as if some unseen force had just knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

Concerned, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Joel? Are you okay?”

Though clearly he wasn’t, he nodded and turned back to Gracie.

“Read me the story?” she asked him shyly, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Frank already read her a bedtime story,” You explained to him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “He said he only allows her one a night.”

“Well, that’s a stupid fuckin’ rule,” Joel muttered, though he had been loud enough for you to hear.

“Joel!” You snapped, swatting at him with your other hand. “Don’t say that word in front of her!”

Joel almost laughed. “She’s two and a half years old.”

“Yeah, and probably parrot at this age,” You pointed out. “Please, just mind your mouth around her? We don’t need her picking up your rich vocabulary.”

“Bedtime story? Please?” Gracie chirped hopefully, interrupting the two of you.

Joel let out a small scoff. “You expect me to say no to that sweet little face? Not a chance.” He turned back to her. “Alright, I’ll read it to you. But you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep right after. Promise?”

She nodded excitedly. “Promise!”

Your stomach churned. “Joel, are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t want Bill and Frank getting upset with us—”

“It’s just a bedtime story,” he said. Holding the book in one hand, he rose to his feet and then scooped her up into his arms. He walked out of the bedroom and started up the staircase with you following close behind. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he asked, “Which one’s hers?”

You hesitated before answering, “Second door on the right. Joel, I’m not sure about this.”

“You act like we’re committin’ a fuckin’ crime.”

“First of all stop cursing around her and secondly, we may as well be committing a crime!” You hissed, lowering your voice. “I don’t want to break any boundaries. If Bill gets pissed enough, he could potentially never let us see her again!”

Joel shook his head. “Baby, for the last time, it’s just a fuck—it’s just bedtime story,” he quickly caught himself before another curse word could escape him. “Can you just relax? We ain’t doin’ anythin’ wrong.”

You’d never seen this side of Joel before. Usually, it was him trying to be the voice of reason, it had always been Joel telling you to use your common sense and make the right decisions, and here he was, being so stupidly stubborn.

He opened the door to Gracie’s bedroom and flipped on the lights. It looked like any ordinary little girl’s bedroom—a canopy bed, matching white furniture, a corner strewn with all kinds of toys and a bookshelf packed to the brim with fairytales in another. What surprised you was how the plain white walls had been brought to life with hand painted, large scale wildflowers that surely had to have been done by Frank.

“Daddy’s flowers,” she said, pointing her finger.

“He paints the prettiest flowers, doesn’t he?” You prompted her.

She nodded her head. “Mhm.”

“C’mon.” Joel walked over towards her bed, perching her on his hip as he reached out with his free hand to pull her covers back; he then gingerly laid her down and pulled them up to her chest, tucking her in. “You warm enough, babygirl?”

Gracie nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Teddy!”

“Teddy?” Confused, he furrowed an eyebrow and then glanced down at the stuffed brown teddy bear beside his boot. “Oh, Teddy. How did he get down here, darlin’? He’s supposed to be up here with you.” He picked the bear up, placing it right beside her. “That’s better.”

Anxiously, you dropped down into the white wicker chair beside her bed as Joel kneeled on the opposite side. His dark eyes glazed over the book in his hand, and even from where you sat, you could see the sadness flash across his face, subtle, but detectable. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he opened it and thumbed to the first page. Clearing his throat, he began reading to her. “In the great green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon. And a picture of a cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie lingered on every word, her big doe eyes wide with fascination in the most endearing way.

You finally managed to relax and leaned back into the chair, watching the scene before you with a delicate smile on your face. Your hand instinctively went to your necklace, and you rolled the pearl between your thumb and your index finger as you drank in the sight of Joel reading to your daughter.

His daughter.

“Goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie yawned and began blinking furiously.

You could tell she was trying her hardest to stay awake to the very end, but Joel’s deep voice was effortlessly lulling her to sleep.

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.” By the time Joel read the last sentence, her eyes had fluttered closed.

“And she’s out.” You lowered your voice so you wouldn’t wake her.

Joel closed the book and placed it on her nightstand. He stared at her and reached out, lightly touching his index finger to her cheek. “If you would’ve asked me two and a half years ago if I thought I’d be tuckin’ her into bed and readin’ her a bedtime story someday, I’d say you’d lost your damn fuckin’ mind.”

You laughed softly and nodded. “Oh, I know.”

“You think she’s happy here?”

Your smile faded slightly. “Of course she’s happy here. Wearing pretty dresses, picking flowers, chasing butterflies across the front yard...”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question,” Joel muttered, rising to his feet.

You stood up from the chair and walked over to him. “Bill and Frank are doing a great job at raising her under the circumstances. She’s happy, she’s healthy—and they love her so much, Joel.”

“Too bad she’ll never know that we loved her first,” he murmured.

“We did love her first.” You reached for one of his hands and took it in your own, lacing your fingers together with his. “But this is the way things have to be and we both know that.”

Joel let out a hesitant sigh. “That book she brought me to read to her,” he started to say, his voice breaking slightly, “That book was the first book that I ever read to Sarah when she was a little girl.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, your heart aching for him. “Joel...” You stopped and swallowed the thick, emotional lump that had risen in your throat. You said nothing else and reached up with your opposite hand, cradling his cheek in your palm.

“She was two years old, just like Gracie is now.” His voice wavered again and it was taking every ounce of strength he had inside of him not to crumble in front of you. He placed his hand over yours on his face. “You know that dimple in her left cheek?”

You simply nodded.

“Sarah had that exact same dimple,” Joel whispered. “Same side, same place too. And the way Gracie acts, she reminds me so much of her when she was that age. The way she smiles, the way she giggles, it all reminds me of Sarah.”

It almost shocked you, the way Joel was mentioning Sarah—the last time he had talked about her was that night in the apartment almost three years ago, when you had brought her up during an argument and it had only added fuel to the fire. You remembered being heavily pregnant with Gracie then, and Joel had confessed that he would probably never be ready to talk to you about the daughter that he’d lost. To hear him even utter her name to you again came completely out of left field.

“Maybe your sweet little butterfly sent you something to remember her by,” You told him, nodding over at the sleeping child.

Joel closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head further into the palm of your hand. After a while, he finally opened them again and broke the silence. “Do you remember the day we left her here?”

“How can I not? It was hardest day of my entire fucking life.”

“You said that comin’ to see her, it wouldn’t be enough. That it would never be enough.” He paused, remembering, “I said it would never be enough for me either.”

“And?”

“We were right. This ain’t enough,” he admitted. “And every time that we leave here without her, it hurts just as much as it did on day one.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You blinked back the warm tears that had sprung to your eyes.

After spending a while watching Gracie as she slept, you and Joel decided it was time to head downstairs back to the guest bedroom to try and get some rest. Each of you took a turn to kiss her goodnight before shutting off the lights and quietly slipping out of her bedroom, closing the door behind you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #fic: tdtrt

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sanarsi · 2 months

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Pink Braids

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel decided to take his daughter on vacation for a few days. The sea and the beach were the perfect destination for a short break. Joel could never resist Sarah's charms. The stand selling colorful braids was no exception. Warnings: NONE it’s pure and sweet like Joel’s love for his daughter <3 Wordcount: 3,2k An: I wrote this to satisfy my need so don’t judge me pls :c Joel and Sarah deserve at least some happy and calmly times, so this is it! I hope this satisfies your appreciative heart at least a little xx Music I worked with: Falling for Ya - Grace Phipps (Teen Beach Movie)

Masterlist

Like every year, it's time for a short family vacation. Sarah decided that this time she wanted to go to the seaside to collect seashells and make a necklace out of them. And who was Joel to deny her anything? His princess wanted seashells and sand? His princess got shells and sand.

The sun was pleasantly warm on his skin for the second day in a row as he lay on the blanket without moving even an inch. There was a blissful smile on his lips because he could finally rest.

Sarah sat nearby, digging in the sand to bury Joel's other leg. He didn't complain. At least his feet were cool.

There was muffled music, conversations and laughter all around, but Joel only heard Sarah. Her delicate voice sang the same song from some children's musical over and over again. He wouldn't complain if she changed the album because he already knew that damn song by heart. Worse still, he has to listen to it every time they drive. For a few hours at least. But what can he do when he sees her big smile while singing her favorite song? Start singing with her, of course.

"Dad, I'm hungry."

Joel looked up and raised an eyebrow as he watched Sarah continue to bury his leg. He sighed quietly and then groaned heavily as he rose to a sitting position. Sarah raised an eyebrow and looked at him with amusement.

"You moan like you're sixty," she pointed out.

"I have it mentally," he replied, rubbing his eyes under his glasses and stretched, looking around the beach full of people. He glanced at the watch on his wrist and knew that they should get going. It was soon lunchtime and he had to admit that his stomach was growling. "What do you want to eat?"

Sarah fell silent for a moment, wondering what she wanted. In the meantime, she handed Joel a plastic shovel so he could dig out his legs. She smiled broadly and leaned towards the sand to catch her father's attention.

“Can we have waffles, please?” she asked, grinning widely, hoping this would bribe him. Damn, she was right.

“Sure,” he nodded.

“With whipped cream and strawberries?” she asked hopefully, but she already knew that Joel would agree to anything.

“With whipped cream and strawberries,” he nodded again.

Sarah got up from the sand, full of energy, and started packing all her things into her bag. Joel had only just managed to dig out both legs and she was already standing ready to leave the beach. How happy he was to have such a resourceful daughter.

He took his shirt from her and put it on. He took the bag from her and slowly followed her lead. And it definitely wasn't his fault that Sarah managed to get out of the beach and come to him again while he was dragging along like a snail.

“Give me a break. I'm forty years old," he groaned miserably as Sarah literally ran around him.

"Forty, not sixty," she noted, jumping on the sand and waiting for her feet to sink in. “Maybe you should do yoga?” she suggested, and Joel snorted under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Better watch your steps," he said and put his leg under her, causing her to stumble. Joel started laughing to himself as Sarah looked at him in disbelief.

"What the… Dad?!" she shouted after him and punched his shoulder, starting to laugh.

A dozen or so minutes later, they were both walking, eating waffles. The beach was always full of souvenir and food stands, so Sarah had something to do. Of course, Joel followed her like a shadow and commented on everything she showed him.

She ended up with a new bracelet on her wrist and a colorful magnet for the fridge.

"You think they made it out of real sand?" she asked, examining the sand-like structure. Joel glanced down at her purchase.

“It looks fake,” he commented and finished eating his waffle.

“I knew it,” she muttered confidently under her breath.

They walked calmly, watching the sea from nearby. Joel watched everything that was happening on the beach, but Sarah didn't have this pleasure because her view was blocked by colorful flower bushes. Suddenly he felt a tug on his hand, which made him stop and turn towards his daughter, who was looking enchanted at the stand where they were making colorful braids from artificial hair. Joel knew immediately what this meant, but he had a vestige of hope in him that died the moment he locked eyes with Sarah. Her eyes sparkled as if she had seen at least a unicorn.

"Dad..." she began calmly, to which Joel only groaned pitifully.

"You'll finish off your old man someday," he said, rubbing his face with his hand, and Sarah immediately started jumping in place with excitement with a wide smile. And that was enough to make him smile too.

He didn't resist when his daughter started pulling him towards the stand like a racehorse. A young girl who was browsing something on her phone when they approached her stand.

You looked at them belatedly. A wide smile spread across your face as you looked from Joel to Sarah.

“Hi, good morning, how can I help you?” you asked, putting your phone away and getting up from your chair, ready to work.

"My daughter wanted..." he started to say, but Sarah immediately interrupted him.

“I wanted some braids,” she said excitedly. You looked amused at Joel, who just shrugged, giving his daughter the right to decide.

“Okay, then, my name is y/n and I will do whatever you want on your head. How does it sound?" you turned to Sarah with a friendly smile. The girl smiled broadly.

“Sounds great” she nodded “I am Sarah” she introduced herself and shook hands with you.

Joel's eyes fell on you the moment he heard your name. He swallowed hard at the strange hit of nostalgia that rose in his chest.

That was Sarah's mother's name.

“Okay, so choose the colors you like,” you started to show her a wall with dozens of colors of colorful strands of artificial hair. Sarah stood and smiled, enjoying the neon colors. The longer she tried to choose, the more her smile began to fade. Joel stood with his arms crossed, watching his daughter.

“Dad, I don't know which one to choose,” she said, turning towards him worriedly. Your eyes also fell on the girl's father and you smiled warmly at him.

“Should I choose for you?” he raised his eyebrows, letting her know that this would end badly.

“Maybe I can help,” you suggested, immediately seeing the relief on the man's face. You crouched down next to Sarah and her attention was focused only on you. "What is your favorite color, Sarah?"

"Pink," her smile immediately returned as she shrugged casually. You laughed to yourself because her answer was predictable. Joel also snorted quietly under his breath. You glanced at the man out of the corner of your eye and your eyes met for a moment.

“What color do you think goes best with pink?”

“Blue,” she replied, proud of herself.

“Okay, we've got two. We need one more color” you showed her three on your fingers. “Now you need to focus” Your words caught her attention even more and Joel shook his head in amusement. "What color is most in your closet?" you asked, looking at her carefully and Sarah began to think hard. You saw the gears in her brain working at full speed.

The silence began to drag on so Joel came out to help. “Purple,” he said, catching your attention. Sarah immediately brightened and nodded at her father's words. You smiled warmly at Joel and nodded.

“Then I have five suggestions for you,” you turned to the girl again. You stood up and started pulling off a few strands of hair and presented them to Sarah. She began to carefully look at all the colors you had chosen. “And? Which ones do you like?”

Sarah looked up at you with a smile. “All of them,” she replied and turned back to looking at the neon colors in your hands. You looked up at Joel, who understood your silent question and nodded in agreement.

“Okay, then sit on the chair and look at the sample photos of updos,” you pointed to the board with photos of different hairstyles. Sarah obediently followed your orders. Joel started to accompany her in choosing her hairstyle while you started preparing the equipment.

“Can I have this one?” she asked.

"No," came the answer. You smiled to yourself as you listened to their conversation.

“And this one?”

“No”

Groan of anger. A moment of silence.

"This?" she asked with less confidence, fearing that her father would not agree to her next choice. a moment of silence.

“Let it be,” he agreed, so now you could spring into action. You walked up to them with a smile and a few pins attached to your small apron.

“And what is the final choice, princess?” you asked, so Sarah immediately pointed to one of the photos on the board. “Great choice,” you said confidently to convince the girl that her dad made the right decision.

It worked.

You winked at Joel and he smiled at you gratefully. You started combing the girl's hair, so Joel sat on the wall right next to her so he could watch everything. And so began an adventure that lasted several hours.

You slowly finished braiding the first braid, listening to the girl's story with a wide smile. "And then I told her she was an idiot because Carly and Freddie didn't fit together," she said, moved.

You glanced at her father, who just nodded resignedly, listening to his daughter's story. "Who's the idiot?" he said, on the verge of a breakdown, and Sarah gave him a deadly look.

“Dad, did you even listen to what I said?” she asked suspiciously, and confusion appeared on her father's face.

“Bethany,” you said, deciding to save him from his predicament.

"Exactly. Bethany,” she murmured in agreement. Joel gave you a grateful look and continued to watch your work. It was impossible not to notice his curiosity.

“Shall I show you how it's done, sir?” you asked encouragingly, tying the first braid. Joel was silent for a moment, hesitant to agree. But he finally got up from his seat and walked closer to you, standing next to you.

“I'd appreciate it,” he nodded with a sheepish smile. “And… just Joel, please” he added and you smiled back. It was nice.

“Okay, Joel… Have you ever braided hair before?” you asked, preparing another color of artificial hair. He shook his head in denial, so you gave him a reassuring smile. "Then we'll start with the basics."

For the next half hour, you explained to him every move you made while braiding the two braids. He asked detailed questions every now and then and seemed genuinely interested. It touched your heart more than it should have. But you couldn't help but feel strange emotions stirred in you by the sight of a single father who loved his child.

“Would you like to try?” you asked when you finished tying braid. Joel looked at you uncertainly. “If you make a mistake, I will help you,” you assured him, wanting to give him some comfort. This finally convinced him.

Satisfied, you started another braid and gave it halfway to him. His movements were uncertain as he moved strands of hair between his fingers. You watched him closely, trying to steer him in the right direction, but he was extremely deaf to your words.

“No, Joel, wait-” you cut him off and it wasn't until you placed your hands on his that he noticed you.

He sighed under his breath, furious at his poor skills. "I guess my fingers are too big for this," he remarked.

“Your fingers are perfectly fine,” you laughed under your breath and gently wrapped your fingers around his. “You have to do it more gently,” you said and started controlling his hands like a puppet. Joel watched as everything suddenly started to look perfect. Your hands were gentle and tender unlike his. His thoughts began to enter dangerous territory, causing him to clear his throat nervously, afraid that you could somehow read minds.

“There you go,” you said with a wide smile, finishing another braid with his hands.

Joel looked at his work and had to admit it didn't look bad. He nodded in approval and looked your way. His eyes immediately fell on your hand, which contained more strands of hair.

“Now you do it all yourself,” you encouraged him with a smile.

And that's how Joel got the braid on one side and you on the other.

Perfect cooperation.

You looked at him every now and then with a smile, observing how focused he was on what he was doing. You couldn't help but think how sweet he was.

You stared at him shamelessly until his eyes met yours. You felt your cheeks heat up as you focused on your work again. A smile appeared on John's lips, and he had to admit that it felt... good. For so many years he focused only on work and his daughter that he forgot what it was like to have contact with a woman. It was such an exotic experience.

A moment later, you were fixing the final details in Sarah's hairstyle. Joel stood watching her with a warm smile.

"You look beautiful," he said, making her blush. You smiled to yourself as you arranged her curls.

“Your dad is right. You look like the most beautiful flower in the meadow,” you said, crouching in front of her. She smiled still embarrassed. You glanced at her father. "A daughter like that is a treasure."

Joel smiled, looking at his little princess. "Yeah, I tell myself that every time I find an eggshell in my scrambled eggs," he joked, raising an eyebrow. You and Sarah burst out laughing.

You exchanged a few more words with the girl and then stood up.

“Can I take a picture of her?” you asked Joel. He was confused for a moment and only then did he understand what you meant.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, giving you the green light. You took your phone out of your pocket and quickly took a few photos of her hairstyle. You were delighted with your work because the little one looked like a blooming flower with pink habesha braids. You let her look at herself in the mirror and in the meantime you added up all the expenses. You wrote everything down on a piece of paper so as not to make any mistakes while you glanced at the delighted child.

However, Joel blocked your view. You looked up, locking eyes with him.

"How much did this little star cost?" he asked, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. You blinked a few times and looked at the piece of paper with the calculations.

“Sixty dollars” you read and glanced at the bill he was already holding out towards you. You took the money and reached into your pocket to give him the change, but you froze when his hand grabbed your wrist. You looked at his warm smile and your throat went dry for a moment.

“The rest is for you,” he said, letting go of your wrist. You opened your mouth to deny it because a forty dollar tip was way too much for your job.

“I can't…” you managed to say, but he silenced you with a shake of his head.

“Consider it a bonus for teaching the old man how to braid that devil's hair,” he said with amusement and your eyes immediately fell on his daughter who was still looking in the mirror.

“You could have learned that from a YouTube video,” you pointed out, looking back at him. “For free,” you added, raising your eyebrows.

Joel just smiled wider and shrugged. “And yet you taught me that.”

You looked at him for a moment, looking for any sign of doubt, but eventually you gave up. you snorted under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief and pocketed the money.

“Well, thank you…” you started to say but stopped when you saw the piece of paper he was holding out towards you. Hesitantly, you took a thick piece of paper and looked at the series of printed numbers.

“In case you need someone to build you a house… or something…” he explained with a grimace and scratched the back of his neck in stress. You stared at the business card with his phone number and your heart sped up several times. He actually gave you his number with the stupidest excuse you've ever heard.

You smiled widely and looked up at him. He was stressed and it was visible to the naked eye. You laughed softly, still in shock.

“The 'or something' option seems more likely to me,” you wrinkled your nose with a smug grimace. Joel's smile immediately grew bigger. He snorted under his breath and nodded at your words, feeling a stone fall from his chest.

He was stressed like a teenager. It was so stupid and yet so exciting.

“Yeah, okay…” he nodded, swallowing hard.

Sarah ran over to you two and snuggled into her dad's side. You both looked at her and each of you knew that everyone had left happy with the whole situation. Sarah saw it in her father's eyes. In the way he breathed so easily.

“Thank you, ma'am, I love the colors and the hairstyle,” the girl said. You smiled warmly at her.

“It's me to thank you. It was nice to meet you."

With that, Sarah shook your hand. “I hope we see each other again someday,” she said, making your and Joel's eyes meet for a moment.

“I don't doubt it,” you winked at her and she laughed and snuggled into her father's side again.

“It was nice for me too,” he added, squeezing your hand and kissing the back of it. You stared at it as if enchanted because it wasn't an everyday sight. His stubble irritated your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You forced a sweet smile in response, not trusting yourself enough to speak up. Sarah gave you one last wave before she and her father disappeared into the crowd of other people.

Only then did your eyes fall back on the small business card in your hand. You read the row of numbers again, feeling your heart beat hard in your chest. You bit your lip as your smile widened. What a day…

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #sanarsi fic #joel miller fluff

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annawritesblog · 7 months

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You are in love(c.s.)

Summary: the story of Carlos and y/n told through you are in love by Taylor Swift.

A/N: this is for all my Carlos girlies out there. I just felt like writing something based on Taylor lyrics so here it is. I hope you like reading it just as much as I liked writing it. please remember that english is not my first language, so if soemthing's not correct, feel free to tell me. enjoy:)

One look, dark room, meant just for you Time moved too fast, you play it back Buttons on a coat, light-hearted joke No proof, not much, but you saw enough

Carlos couldn't keep his eyes off her. Y/n's body swayed to the rythym of the loud music and the Ferrari driver felt a sudden rush of adrenaline and oxytocin through his body. She looked careless and happy, like life was nothing, but pure joy. Carlos took a sip of his drink and answered a question his friend had asked him, althought he didn't pay attention to him at all.

"God, you're so hooked." His friend had said, but Carlos just shook that comment off. But in reality, he knew he was. So utterly and irreversibly.

With a smile on her face, y/n looked at her boyfriend, who was already watching her. They exchanged a meaningful look that only they understood. This made the girl think of the time they had first met. How easy and how natural it was to talk to him, all because he always had a joke on hand or a compliment which always made her blush from head to toe.

Small talk, he drives, coffee at midnight The light reflects, the chain on your neck He says, "Look up", and your shoulders brush No proof, one touch, but you felt enough

For their first Valentine's Day, not even 3 months into dating, Carlos had flown out y/n to Italy. The young girl was incredibly grateful and she couldn't get her head around all of that. And if she only knew that that was just the beggining. The f1 driver had planned a whole thing for the celebration. After picking up some coffee for the both of them, in order for y/n to fight the jet lag, they hopped in the boy's valuable Ferrari and drove off..., well somewhere. Carlos had put on a blindfold on the girl and guided her towards his surprise. The girl, once again, was speechless. Flower, champagne, dinner and candles. This, she would have called, cliché. But now that she was in a relationship like this, she was just mesmerised by all of that. On top of all those things, the spaniard had another special gift for his girlfriend. A gorgeous diamond necklace. And that was it for the girl. Her eyes filled with tears and she jumped into Carlos' arms. No words could express how grateful y/n was, although she tried but Carlos kept convincing her that he was the lucky one. Wiping away her tears, he spoke up:

"Carino, look." And he pointed towards the sky. If the night wasn't magical enough, the shooting stars made it even more magical. They stayed like that, in each other's embrace until God knows how long. That was their moment.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you You can feel it on the way home, way home, you You can see it with the lights out, lights out You are in love, true love You are in love

The first time Carlos had realized he was in love with her can't be described. He invited her to his house for a little date night in. It must've been their third date. He let y/n choose the movie and obviously she went for a rom-com. Carlos wasn't particulalry fond of those kind of movies, but he didn't care as long as she enjoyed them. The whole time he couldn't take his eyes off her. The way her shoulders rose when she laughed or how she giggled when Carlos added a funny comment. He knew that he wanted to hear that and feel what he felt then for the rest of his life. Even when they weren't talking, he could just jump around in happiness. He couldn't have explained it, but it didn't matter.

Sometimes, when he can't sleep, he thinks about their first date. How easily the conversation flew and how y/n kept saying that it was a pleasent night and she wanted to repeat it. These words kept replaying in his mind after dropping her off at her house.

Morning, his place, burnt toast, Sunday You keep his shirt, he keeps his word And for once, you let go, of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much, but it said enough

Her eyes fluttered open. It seemed way too early to be awake, so she closed her eyes and wanted to get lost in her dreams again. She couldn't though, because a pretty unpleasent smell had hit her nose. A few minutes later, the door of the bedroom opened and Carlos was juggling the tray and the coffee in his hands.

"What's all this?" She asked sleepily.

"Wanted to make you breakfast. I think it's edible." He laughed and placed the tray on her side of the bed. Because she had her own side of the bed by then. Infact, she had left skincare and clothes at his, which made him so incredibly happy.

"That is so sweet, Carlos. Thank you." Carlos sat next to her and left a little kiss on her cheek. They ate in silence but occasionally they would look at each other and smile from ear to ear.

She felt comfortable with him. She never thought that someone would make her feel this way, but here he was. Coming in her life and having such a huge impact on her. She wanted this to last forever and ever. To never let go of his hands. To always call him first when something good or bad happens. And she knew, he wanted the same. For the first time in her life, she trusted someone without a doubt, because she was sure, he wouldn't take it for granted.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Carlos asked while taking a sip of his coffee.

"Can we just stay in bed all day?" She asked and nuzzled her nose into his neck.

He smiled and placed his hand on her waist under her (his) shirt. "Sure we can, love."

You kiss on sidewalks, you fight and you talk One night he wakes, strange look on his face Pauses, then says, you're my best friend And you knew what it was He is in love

They barely fought. Mostly it was about Carlos wanting to spoil y/n with expensive gifts and y/n explaining that she does not need those things necessarily. She liked designer things, who doesn't, but she didn't want him spending so much on her. Although he said he's repaying her for all the things she had done for him. She never understood that. Apart from that, they were living in a happy and balanced relationship.

One night tho, after coming home from a friend's party, things got out of hand between them. A guy was flirting with y/n. At least from Carlos' point of view. Y/n obviously thought it was bullshit, they were just talking. She had tried to explain that to him, but he wasn't listening. He kept on telling his side of the story, how uncomfortable it was, how he wanted to interfere (which he did) and so on. There was a bit of yelling and blaming. They went to bed like that: mad, misunderstood and hurt.

Neither of them could sleep. While y/n lay still, but sleepless, Carlos was tossing and turning. Until about an hour later, when he turned the bedside lamp on.

"I'm really sorry. I overreacted." He sighed and he could see the tears in her eyes.

"Don't you trust me? I would never ever flirt with anyone. I'm with you, Carlos because I want to be with you."

"I do trust you and it was really silly of me to think you would do such things. I truly am so sorry." She could see the regret in his eyes. They weren't shining like they usually are, they were just dark and botomless. "I love you, okay? I'll never do that again." And he never did.

And so it goes You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown

"Come in." Carlos shouted from his desk. His father walked in his simulator room.

"Am I bothering?" He asked looking at his son, lost in the screen of his computer.

"No, I've just finished." Carlos turned on his chair.

His father looked around the room, inspecting his trophies. He felt an immediate pride rushing through him. His son had made it. All those long hours at the track had finally paid off. He wandered around and finally stopped infront of his desk. They were a lot of nick nacks, wires and a picture frame. It was a picture of y/n and him from a while ago when they took a trip to the South of France. They were on the beach laying on sunbeds. They were tan and smiling like little kids. The two men smiled at the picture.

"I'm so glad you found her. You've changed so much since you've been with her, for the better of course." Carlos Sr. had said and patted his son's back.

"Yeah, I'm really happy." He agreed.

"I hope we can expect a wedding soon." His dad hinted. Carlos just laughed and opened a drawer. He picked up the little box and turned towards his dad.

"I hope so too." He opened up the box and inside was a beautiful diamond ring. It wasn't too flashy, knowing that y/n didn't like that, but that didn't mean it wasn't very valuable. His dad couldn't contain his excitment and hugged his son tight.

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words

She was nervous. She was shaking a little aswell. Well, maybe the coffee didn't help that. Y/n took a final glance at herself in the mirror and sighed. She was looking more beautiful than ever. Happiness really suited her, tho the white didn't look too bad on her either. She looked down on her engagment ring and realized that another band will show up on her finger in just a few minutes. She took a deep breath, and fought back the tears. She is getting married to the love of her life.

In the meantime, Carlos was standing at the altar feeling more nervous than ever. What if she changed her mind? What if she ran away?

His best friend put a hand on his shoulder. Carlos looked at him and calmed down a little bit. It would be fine. And it was fine. They got married. Infront of their most loved friends and relatives.

After all those years together, the rest of their lives had just started. Long flights, sleepless nights and worries had paid off and there they were. All married up. All ready to live their happily ever after, because in the end they were just two kids who fell in love.

#f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1blr #imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #f1 x reader #Spotify

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watermelonlovershigh · 5 months

Text

A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: excited to be putting out a smutty fic since i haven't in a while. i hope you enjoy part 4. feel free to help put inspo into this series by sending me things you'd like to see happen in this story. remember to reblog and leave your feedback. enjoy!!!

This story contains: fluff, smut, handjob and male receiving oral, talks of using vibrator

{ housemate!harry - softrry - friend!harry - au harry - harry's occupation is a teacher }

word count- 2,373

Your friendship is progressing quicker than anticipated and when Harry wakes up with morning wood, you decide to help his situation out.

It's been three days since the mutual confessions of your feelings and to be completely honest, there has been little change as far as how the two of you interact. Apart from the absence of casual encounters, daily routines within the house remain unchanged from the time when you were merely housemates and just friends. But, you have noticed some subtle differences.

On Saturday night, you followed your usual routine. As the clock struck seven, you opted for Chinese take-out and settled on the couch to watch a movie. Eventually fatigue overcame you and you made the choice to call it a night. Although you had shared a bed earlier in the day during the morning nap, you believed that spending an entire night together would be rushing things, so you decided to go your separate ways.

However, following an hour of restlessness, Harry reached a point where he could no longer bear it. He rose from his bed and made his way across the hallway to your room. Being polite, he softly tapped on the door and upon hearing the invitation, "Come in," he cautiously entered. The room was dimly lit, but the moonlight filtering through the window provided just enough illumination for him to see your confused silhouette.

Curiously, you questioned, "Har... what are you doing?" while observing Harry confidently approaching your unoccupied side of the bed, dressed in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Without seeking consent, he smoothly pulled back the duvet and comfortably nestled himself beside you.

"Couldn't sleep." Harry answered before continuing, "Ever since this mornin' where we took that nap together and cuddled, I realized just how much I love sharing a bed and cuddlin' with someone. Hope this was alright."

Looking over at him as he got settled under the blankets, you replied, "Yeah, it's fine. Just thought you wanted to take this whole thing slow s'all."

"Y/n, when I said we should take our relationship slow, I meant sex. Sharing a bed and cuddlin' doesn't have to equal sex. It's purely platonic." At Harry's words, you had mixed emotions. Yes you agreed in wanting to take your progressive friendship at a slow pace but on the other hand, you also want to jump his bones every time you look into his grassy green eyes.

Since Harry was the one to take the brave step in coming into your bedroom, you made the brave step in sliding over until your body was right next to his. Quietly, you asked, "Big spoon or little spoon?"

Shyly giggling, Harry answered, "Little spoon."

"Okay, turn on your side for me." He did as told and you tightly wrapped your body around his back and hugged him to your chest. Just like Harry, you're a big cuddler too. Hence why most of the time you allowed your one-night stands to sleep over. Just to have a cuddle partner throughout the night.

The restlessness Harry had at the start of the night was now gone as you spooned him and sleep followed shortly after.

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

Every night since Saturday night you've shared a bed together. Either you sleep in Harry's bed or he sleeps in yours. It's become routine at this point and you both find comfort in sleeping together. Nothing more has happened in your developing relationship. Besides the accidently touch of your clothed boobs or the time your knee accidently grazed Harry's covered cock sometime throughout the night.

On the following Sunday morning though, a shift occurs. As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in Harry's bed, with his body curled around yours. The gentle exhalations of his warm breath brush against your neck, while his chest presses against your back. However, amidst this intimate embrace, you also become aware of another sensation. Something is prodding against your ass. You aren't oblivious to its nature, yet you find yourself uncertain about how to go about this situation.

It's a dilemma whether to ignore Harry's morning boner or to assist his problem in order to potentially advance your relationship. You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, but also ponder if his desire to take things slow is actually for your benefit. Perhaps Harry is being cautious for your sake, and he might be ready to take your friendship to the next level.

Allowing desire to take over your judgement, you slowly back your bum up against his hardened cock and subtly move your hips, hoping the feeling gives him some sort of relief. Approximately thirty seconds go by before you hear a deep grunt coming from behind you. Then suddenly you feel Harry's body jump back until you're no longer touching one another.

You decide to turn around so you're facing his direction and once you get a good look at him, you see his large hand covering his face in what you presume is embarrassment. "Um, sorry 'bout that." Harry mummers aloud. He has no control over getting an erection in his sleep and the fact it happened while spooning you, it's so embarrassing for you to witness.

"Hey," you coo softly, scooting closer to his body, "you don't need to be embarrassed. It happens and it's natural. You know, I don't mind helping you out if you want."

Harry finally takes his hand away from his face and turns his head to look at you. "Y/n, what about the takin' it slow thing?"

"Harry, you also shared the importance of things moving naturally and I'd say they are. If things naturally progress fast then we should allow it instead of ignoring it. I don't mind helping your problem out. Know you must be aching." Once you're finished speaking, you place your hand on his bare belly and teasingly drag your fingers lower and lower. "Only if you're comfortable with that idea."

His longing for your touch surpasses everything else and he nods, uttering, "Um, yeah. If you want, you can help." Now assured of his agreement, you gradually move your fingers downwards until they reach the edge of his boxers. Before proceeding further, you steal a quick glance at Harry's face, searching for any hesitation, but there are none. With certainty, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band encircling his narrow hips.

Your fingers pass over the patch of trimmed hairs before finally bumping into the hardness you felt against your ass a couple minutes prior. Carefully and without seeing, you take ahold of his morning wood and began to tug gently at his foreskin. This isn't your first rodeo. You know what your doing. You just hope Harry's enjoying what you're doing. And by the looks of it, he is.

Harry's leaning against his pillow, head thrown back, and a quiet gasp escapes his throat. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock exceeds all the fantasies he had while pleasuring himself and imagining your touch.

As you skillfully stroke him with your dominant hand, an overwhelming surge of arousal consumes you, causing your clitoris to pulsate with need. Despite the almost unbearable sensation, you set aside your own desires, dedicating yourself entirely to Harry's pleasure.

The room begins to get hot and stuffy so Harry reaches down to toss the covers off his lap. This gives you a better view of your hand down his briefs. After a few minutes of stroking his dick in your hand, you start feeling some resistant and realize the dryness may be uncomfortable for Harry. You could retreat your hand and lick your palm before going back to the handjob. Or, you could do something even better.

In one swift motion, you pull your hand out of Harry's underwear and crawl between his spread thighs. Now on your knees in front of his lying figure, you lean over his lap and tug the fabric down until it's cradled under his enlarged balls. "What are you......" he goes to ask but you cut him off.

"Shhh." You crouch down and glide your tongue over a thick vein along his shaft. He's larger than you imagined. You had an inkling of his size from how thick and heavy he felt in your hands, but now, face to face with it, he's huge. And it's not just huge, it's also aesthetically pleasing. The prettiest penis you've ever laid eyes on, and you wouldn't normally consider penises to be remarkably beautiful. It's no wonder why so many men and women enjoyed their nights with him.

A deep groan escapes Harry's lips as he's consumed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving him feeling dizzy. He never imagined you would go all out with a blowjob this morning. While a handjob is pleasurable, a blowjob is an even more exhilarating experience. You expertly guide his pulsating head to your lips and playfully flick your tongue over his sensitive slit. This action causes Harry to instinctively pull away, unable to bear the intense sensitivity.

In order to maintain his stability, you position your hands on both sides of his hips and decide you've teased long him enough. Gradually, you lower your head onto his large cock. However, as you reach approximately halfway down his length, he reaches the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Momentarily, you withdraw and apologize. "Sorry, it has been a while since I've gave a blowjob."

Harry lifts his head from the pillow and gently cups the sides of your face. "Don't worry about it. Just take it easy. You don't have to go all the way down and potentially make yourself sick. Just take what you can and it will still feel good f'me." He speaks from experience, having gave blowjobs before and knowing the struggle of trying to push beyond your limits. It only results in a sore throat and a stomach ache from gagging too much.

With a nod, you lean forward and proceed to take Harry into your mouth once again. Except this time you halt just before his tip reaches the back of your throat. Shifting one of your hands from his hip to the base of his penis, you skillfully maneuver your mouth up and down, while simultaneously twisting and tugging his shaft with your hand.

Harry thinks he's in heaven. He must be. Because nothing has ever felt this good before. None of his previous one-night stands has ever gave him this good of a blowjob. Not even the ones who could skillfully deepthroat him. Nor has any of his few actual relationships gave such a good blowjob. It must be the connection and feelings he has for you that's making this experience so amazing. It means more coming from you.

You suck and tug repeatedly until Harry is close to reaching orgasm in your mouth. Uncertain if you want him to come in your mouth, he alerts you, "Y/n... M' gonna come." Rather than withdrawing as he anticipates, you descend a bit further. This time, you successfully manage to control your gag reflex and intensify your sucking until you feel Harry releasing his warm cum in your mouth.

Harry tightly clutches his sheets, his hips involuntarily thrust upwards as he reaches his climax. You softly gag once but quickly regain your composure. He tastes better then some of the guys you've tasted before. It's a bit salty but doesn't have that pungent taste some men tend to have. Must be Harry's healthy diet.

Gradually, his limbs grow weak, and as his orgasm subsides, his body begins relaxing on the bed. You remove his wet and slippery cock from your mouth, observing Harry lying there, breathing heavily with his eyes firmly closed. Reeling what just happened.

With a croaky voice, you shyly question, "Was that good?"

"Was that good? Was it GOOD??" Harry repeats dramatically, "Oh my God, Y/n, best fuckin' blowjob I've ever had."

You playfully swat at his thighs. "Be serious, Harry."

Sitting up and tucking his limp penis back into his briefs, Harry continues his praises. "M' bein' very serious, Y/n. No one has ever made me come that hard. Not a one-night stand or any of the relationships I was in. You're a pro for sure."

For a moment the air feels heavy until you annonce, "Welp, I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm meeting up with some friends for brunch at noon."

In response, Harry mustered up a somewhat awkward reply, "Um, alright. Enjoy your shower." Left alone on his bed, Harry found himself half naked and still catching his breath from the intense orgasm he experienced a few minutes prior. He had intended to ask if he could reciprocate the favor, but you had already left before he had the chance too. It crossed his mind that perhaps you weren't interested in having the favor returned.

Maybe you don't particularly enjoy oral sex performed on you. Uncertain about your preferences, Harry's confident that if given the opportunity to perform cunnilingus on you, you'd undoubtedly fall in love with his skillful tongue. Just like the all the previous women who's praised his mouths abilities.

The truth is, you had desired Harry to return the favor. However, due to just waking up, you were unsure if your pussy smelled okay, let alone tasted alright. To avoid any negative response from him like you've had in the past from guys, you left before he could catch a glimpse of your moist cunt.

Nevertheless, because you're still experiencing a slight throb in your underwear, you discreetly brought one of your silicone vibrators into the shower to quickly satisfy yourself. Although you're certain that Harry's oral skills would have been superior, you'll have to wait a bit longer to get to experience that.

Once out of the shower, you dried off and got dressed to head out for the brunch you had planned with some friends. It was going to be at a small cafe in downtown London. As for Harry, he didn't really have any plans for today. Besides catching up on grading some tests his students took the Friday before. He hopes you're available tonight because he wishes to be able to spend more time with you. He loves spending time with you. He loves y..... Nope too soon for that.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

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My Masterlist Masterpost

Returning Favors {part 5.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #teacher!harry

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ellssbellss · 2 months

Note

Hey! I love your writing so much, especially lavender roses! I was wondering if you could write a Host Club x reader who has a lot of random hobbies (woodworking, painting, fencing, singing, writing, etc)?

I just know that if I had Ouran money, I’d have so many more hobbies. Thank you!

my life is a little hectic right now, as all you lovely people know. but I had this written, or most of it anyway, and I wanted to post it :) thank you for your patience with me while I deal with this difficult time, and for your amazing request!

The Hosts and their S.O. with too many hobbies! {Ohshc x Gender Neutral!Hobbiest!Reader}

missing Honey and Haruhi - will add them when I can!

.oOo.

Tamaki’s reader:

Ballet

Gardening

Painting

Tamaki’s eyes sparkled as you leaped across the stage, never daring to look away from your sculpted body framed in the dramatic stage lights. Tears had been glistening in his violet eyes since your first pirouette, and now he was wiping his cheek every chance he could get. Quickly, so he didn’t miss a single moment.

The prince was left breathless as you danced. The art of ballet flowed so naturally through your form, you looked like you belonged on that stage. Through the kaleidoscope of his tears, Tamaki sighed as you spun and jumped and just moved so fluidly, the emotion on your face making him feel with you.

Your technique dazzled every single member of the audience, and when you bowed, the blonde man was the first to shoot up from his seat. He shoved his palms together unceremoniously, whooping and cheering as everyone politely clapped around him, but he didn’t care. When you tipped your head up and found his wet eyes in the crowd with a playful smile on your lips, he knew he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Scratch that.

“Tamaki!” Your hand shot up from the sea of people filing into the theater lobby, and he zoned in on it. On a mission, a blonde head and a (h/c) head come closer together, pushing through the black suits and long dresses in order to greet the other. Finally, the waters part, and Tamaki takes in your glory with a grin.

“Mon amour…” He breathes, and it’s all you can do not to skip to him as you hold your pointe shoes in your hand. The bouquet of flowers he brought are set down in favor of catching your form and spinning you in the air. His hands come flat against your back as he buries his face in your neck, whispering your praises into your hair.

“You did so well, my love.” He feels your hands wrap tighter around his neck. “You’re so incredibly talented.”

Setting you down gently, he cradles your face. Your beaming at him, pride and adrenaline coursing through your pupils as you try to catch your breath, and he revises his initial thought.

This is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Your gorgeous features enveloped in pure joy.

Chuckling, his voice is like butter as he runs one of his fingers over your cheekbone. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.” Your chest heaves, but your smile is bright. “Especially after seeing you in the audience.”

“Please,” He says, tugging you closer. “I never would’ve missed the opportunity to see you shine.”

Tamaki kisses you then, and you melt. His fingers are gentle against your jaw, peeking into your hairline for a moment as your lips meet sweetly. You hum when he pulls away, wacking him when he smirks at the blush on your face.

“Everytime.” He says, teasing you with a kiss to your cheek.

“Shut up.” You groan. “You can’t kiss me like that and not expect it to affect me.”

“Like what?” A blonde eyebrow quirks up. “Like this?”

He leans in again before someone clears their throat. A man with a collar too high on his neck gives you two a disapproving glare as he walks by, clearly upset by the dramatic display of affection.

You just giggle as the man moves on somewhere else. “Maybe we shouldn’t kiss like that in front of all these people.”

Tamaki rolls his eyes but steps away from you ever-so-slightly. “When you look at me like that, I can’t help myself.”

“Contain yourself.” You tease.

“That will never be possible, mon amour, when my heart can’t even contain its beat with you in this leotard.” Shrugging off his suit jacket, he drapes it around your shoulders. “Maybe cover up a little though, huh? Just for my sanity?”

Laughing, you pull your arms through the too big sleeves, basking in the cologne smell and the sense of security it brings you. “Okay. You can just take it off later.”

Tamaki’s eyes widen as a blush forms on his cheeks, but he grins. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Look who’s talking.” Putting your arm through his, you lean against his side and giggle, his stature supporting you like it always does. But as you turn him towards the front door of the theater, he gasps.

“Wait!” Your boyfriend quickly spins and grabs the flowers that were almost forgotten on the carpet, luckily not trampled by the crowd of opera goers.

“These…” Separating your arms softly, he stands in front of you, bowing as he holds out the gift. “...are for you, darling.”

He hears you gasp, and when he straightens, your eyes are wide and sparkling at the flowers in front of you. (E/c) pools scan every petal, every leaf and stem, and your hand gently cradles the buds.

“Tama…” Your voice is soft enough to not disturb the flora in front of you. “These are from my garden.”

He nods. “I wanted to make the bouquet special enough for you.”

“You wrapped them up so beautifully…” You breathe, and you scan them top to bottom. Your eyes pause at the bottom of the stems. “You didn’t give them a diagonal cut?”

A hand comes to cover his mouth. “Oh, no! I forgot to give them a diagonal cut!” Tamaki swallows before running a hand through his hair. “Before I fix it, of course, just remind me what that is.”

Your hair doesn’t jostle from the hairspray that holds your ballet hair together when you shake your head. “Silly prince. It’s when you cut the bottom of the stem diagonally when you pick them, so that they can absorb more water.”

“Oh…” And with that, a determined gleam twinkled in his eye. “That’s an easy fix! Let me find some scissors.” Quickly, he looks around the bustling lobby, waving his hand. “Who has scissors?!”

“No! No, Tamaki.” Laughing, you bring his hand back down to your side, cradling the large bouquet in your other arm. “It’s fine. Just remember for next time.”

He sees your throat bob, as if you’re holding something else back. “Is there something else, amour?”

You take a breath, fully prepared to deny anything, but you sigh, slumping your shoulders as another critique spills out of you. “And also, for next time, just get me chocolate? I work really hard on making sure these flowers stay alive, and they look much prettier on the bush they were grown on then arranged only to die in a few days.”

Your heart lunges when you see a darkened expression take over his face. “Oh my god, I killed your flowers.”

“That’s okay! It’s fine, roses are easy to grow this time of year, I promise.” You hurry to correct him, putting your palm on his jaw. “I was trying to make it special, I swear.” He whines. His hand comes to rest over yours on his cheek, his fingers grasping your own. “I just didn’t think about it that way.”

You simper at him. “It was special. Knowing how much care you put into arranging them like this is so special to me. Thank you, Tamaki.”

It’s your turn to kiss him on the cheek, and he practically melts. As you’re about to walk out of the busy theater, you feel Tamaki’s arms wrap around your form. He lifts you, cradling you like the royalty you are.

Before you can protest, he shoves your face into the crook of his neck, blonde wisps tickling your cheeks. “Your poor legs, they must be so sore after all that dancing.”

“I can walk just fine.”

“I know.” He squeezes you closer to his chest, and your arms betray your words as they wrap around his neck.

Tamaki takes you back to your home, your parents having missed the recital in favor of a business trip somewhere. There was a long shower, a hot meal, and plenty of cuddling and soft touches before the evening sky touched down into night, and the moonlight poured into the large windows of your place.

Now, he leans on the couch, his feet propped up as he stretches his long form across the length of the white cushions. The serene night fluttered as he opened his eyes from a lazy nap he took, inhaling the scent that was so perfectly you. It calmed him.

To his side, a clanking sound rang into the quiet space. He slowly turned his head to see you gently setting a cup of tea onto one of the side tables. He meets your sheepish gaze when you realize you woke him up, biting your lip.

“I know you’re better at making tea, but I tried.” You offer, spinning the saucer with two fingers so that the handle was facing him. A sweet smile pulls his beautiful face as he sits up.

“Thank you, mon amour.” Reaching for the tea cup, he sees that you are about to walk away from him towards the arching window in your bedroom, the one that looks out over your garden. There is a paint easel set up facing the view, a nearly-exact replica of it being portrayed on your canvas.

Tsking, he lightly grips your wrist, putting pressure to spin you back around. With a yelp, you fall seamlessly across his lap, his arm bracing your back.

“I didn’t get to thank you properly.” His voice rumbles, and his lips are pressed to yours again, leaving you to soften into a lovesick puddle. Your mouths move once, twice, and you can’t resist holding him there for a third time before you separate. His violet eyes transfix on your features, a gentle smile on his lips.

“What?” You ask, laughing as he zones out once again. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he sinks into his, what you like to call, mental theater. “Tamaki, you’re staring.”

Blinking, that sparkle in his eyes fades, but not very much. A finger comes out and wipes off a smear of paint from your cheek. “No, I’m falling, amour. All over again.”

Humming, you pick his chin back up into your grasp. “Then I’ll be here to catch you, darling.”

A cherry blush coats his cheeks when you initiate the kiss this time, and he makes a sound of pleasure against your lips. When you pull away, he is stuttering and hiding behind the tea cup. Chuckling, you watch his hand shake slightly as he tries to regain his cool. “You okay there?”

“What? Of course, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” He rambles, taking a very purposeful sip of the tea you brought him. Then his cheeks bulge, struggling to hold the liquid in his mouth.

“Oh god, it’s terrible, isn’t it?” You say, covering your mouth.

Tamaki shakes his head, but he is breaking out into a nervous sweat.

“Tamaki, spit it out if you don’t like it.” Urging him, you push the cup back to his closed lips. He refuses, his face turning a slight shade of green.

“Tama!” You laugh a little, pleading with him. His grip on the tea cup tightens, and you see the struggle in his swallow as he forces it down his throat.

“G-great as always, angel.” He lies, still wincing at the aftertaste. “Oh mon dieu…” He curses underneath his breath.

Rolling your eyes, you place the cup back on the saucer. “You don’t have to lie.” You insist with a teasing smirk.

A weak grin escapes his full lips. “You are such a talented person, (Y/n).” He starts, nuzzling into your shoulder. “You’re perfect.” And even as his stomach turns, he is grateful to have a significant other with many talents, even if making tea isn’t one of them.

.oOo.

Kyoya’s reader:

Debate club

Woodworking

Reading

Long legs race down the hall, dressed in perfectly iron slacks and shined dress shoes. His black book is clasped in his hand as Kyoya turns another corner, the door to his destination finally coming in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, the megane fixes his glasses, gray eyes trained on the entrance down the hall.

Students are bustling outside of the auditorium, waiting in line as the start time for the debate draws nearer. Kyoya, at his height, pushes past his fellow peers, easily being able to see over the ocean of yellow dresses and lavender jackets.

Before he can reach the heavy double doors into the theater space, he’s stopped by a hand at his arm.

“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t enter the auditorium yet. Not until I’ve been given the green light.” The voice of a security guard sounds over the noise of side conversations, and Kyoya’s dark lashes flick up to meet her stern ones. Clearing his throat, he gently detaches his arm from her grip. He matches her polite smile, a fake one stretching his own lips.

“I understand, Miss. But I’m actually late. I was supposed to meet someone backstage, but I unfortunately got mine and their schedules muddled.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but these doors are closed to the public until the start time.”

Squinting slightly, his host smile grows a little longer on his pale skin. “It’s Miss Kato Hisa, isn’t it?”

The security guard’s eyes widened, knowing that her name tag had been lost in her car for weeks now. “Yes, sir. Have we met?”

“Not formally, no.” Tucking his black book under his arm, he reaches his palm out, grasping her hand in greeting. “I am Ootori Kyoya. Third son to the Ootori family.”

Her hand tightened in his before he let it drop, and she gasped excitedly. “Oh, my gosh, I didn’t realize! Your police force is the top force in the nation.” She smiles sheepishly. “I actually submitted my application a few weeks ago–”

“I’m well aware.” His deep voice cuts her off. “My family only accepts the best, you know. But, I’m sure my father and the chief of the force could be urged in a different direction, with the proper motivations.”

Hisa’s grin widens. “Wow, Ootori-san, that would be amazing! I would be so grateful–”

“If I could be let in now, then you may have your chance.”

Her grin falls. “But, I can’t do that, sir. I am under strict orders not to let anyone in until the appropriate time.”

“Then I’m afraid your application would fall to the bottom of the pile unseen.” Kyoya’s facade is too sweet for his words. “Forgotten.”

The security guard’s face falls into a thin line, searching the Ootori son’s eyes for the joke, or a speck of unseriousness. Of course, she will find none. She can’t read him the way you can.

“You’re cruel.” Swallowing, her fingers grip around the door handle. Pulling it open a crack wide enough for his lithe frame to slip through, she mumbles as he passes. “Enjoy the debate.”

“Thank you, I will.” His tone is low as he moves down the aisles to the sides of the stage. What a weak integrity, he muses, flying down the carpeted stairs. She couldn’t last a day on our police force.

Soon, he hears bustling from behind the debate stage, and he swishes the curtains to the side, slipping into a crowd of debate teams. A stormy gaze sweeps over the crowd, looking for a conglomerate of dark blue suits, the official uniform of the Ouran Debate Team. Once he finds them, he makes a beeline for an (h/c) individual bouncing their leg, a historical fiction novel in their hands.

He simpers at the genre. You only read historical fiction when you’re nervous.

You don’t hear the click of his dress shoes before he is stopped right in front of you, too engrossed in the story to pick out your boyfriend’s movements.

“(Y/n).” That voice shocks you from your trance, and you sweep your gaze up from your seat to find Kyoya smirking down at you, a little flushed. Gasping, you stand immediately, a wide smile taking over your lips.

“Kyo.” You greet him happily, placing your book onto a lone table next to you. “I’m so glad you made it.” Reaching out, you fix a strand of his hair that had been sticking up from his wind-swept look. Then you notice his rapid breaths and his pink cheekbones.

Chuckling a bit, your smile grows. “Are you okay? Did you run here?”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes at you. “Of course not. Just a brisk walk.” He steps closer, the palm not grasping his journal resting onto your hip. “I apologize for being late. I got the dates confused.”

“The dates?”

Nodding, he flips open the famous black book as he pulls you a little closer into his side so that you could see. You lean into his shoulder as he shows you the section that acts as his planner.

“I thought your debate was tomorrow, when, in reality, your woodworking exposition is tomorrow evening. Since your exposition starts an hour later, I incorrectly believed I had more time to work on my club’s budget.”

“You do tend to get lost in the numbers.”

His eyes slip past you to the book next to you. “We all have our methods of escape.”

“I can’t argue with that.” You agree, (e/c) meeting thunderstorms.

“Now, that’s not true.” He teasingly gestures to your debate team. “Isn’t that the point of all this?”

Groaning, you lay your head on his shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”

“(Y/n), my dear.” Pulling apart from you slightly, he takes your hands in his. They are smaller, and he likes that he can encapsulate them in his grasp, keeping them safe. “You’re nervous.”

“You know, it’s not like you to state the obvious.”

“It’s not like you to be so anxious.” He retorts. “You are usually very confident in your debate abilities.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smirk blooming onto your lips. “But being nervous is a natural reaction. Especially when talking about competition.”

“But don’t you agree that confidence is a more helpful emotion?” He responds, eyeing the smart style you have slicked your hair into. “Empirical evidence supports that people achieve more when they are of competent mind, instead of pushing themselves down.”

You take a step forward into his space, your shoulders back. “True. However, a study recently conducted in Switzerland concluded that when an individual person is nervous, or feels anxiety, they tend to work harder towards their goal, as their brain specifically prioritizes that achievement rather than any other.”

He hums thoughtfully, also taking a step forward. “Is that so? Wouldn’t more anxiety hinder that ability to do well? Some people succumb to the state of nervousness. Students procrastinate all the time in fear of not doing well, so they don’t end up actually starting.”

Your hands swing lower, till clasped together as you inch forward even more, his angled face only a few breaths from yours. His eye-line makes a triangle shape across your features, going from your left pupil, to your full lips, and then your right.

“Maybe so, if you are specifically talking about education.” Your voice drops a little lower, falling into a bubble with him. “But in competition, especially group sports like debate, there is an added social pressure. Competitors are not only nervous about their own preparedness, but how that preparedness might affect their team, a team that relies on them. Those anxieties grouped together enhance an individual's motivation to do well.”

Kyoya’s heart drummed a little faster in his chest. Here you were, standing in front of him in a very flattering suit, the color striking against your skin tone. Your words were concise, your tone was steady, and your touch had already been drawing him closer into you. His throat had gone dry at your smart demeanor, your intellect shining in the reflection of his spectacles.

He needed to pull himself together.

But he indulged a little more, pulling one of his hands away from yours to grasp your chin in his fingers, tugging your temptations into his hold. “I yield.” He murmured.

Before your lips could connect, however, another student from the opposing debate team jostled his shoulder. You steadied him as the student grumbled under his breath. “Get a room. Fucking horny high schoolers.”

Kyoya glared daggers at the man, already calculating the next strike to his reputation before he heard your laughter. He felt you pry his fingers off of you, and he turned to see you smiling curiously at him, the sharp edges of his gaze already softening.

“Kissing in public?” You tease, placing a small peck on the inside of his palm. “Being late has made you so scrambled.”

Scoffing, he turns your head to the side. Favoring a far more appropriate kiss on the cheek, he responds in your ear. “You’re right, what was I thinking? You have to win to earn it.”

A gasping breath rushes through your lungs. “So not only am I competing in the finals for my debate team, I’m also competing for my boyfriend’s affection.” You narrow your gaze. “You're cruel.”

He smirks, and now it’s your turn to feel a skipped heartbeat. “So I’ve been told.”

But you hum, leaning closer. “If I don’t deserve a kiss from my boyfriend, I guess you don’t deserve the present I made for you.”

A black eyebrow raises. “You have a gift for me? Isn’t it my place to get you a gift before your critical night?”

“Yes, and I’m fully expecting whatever incredibly thoughtful gift you’ve managed to hide from me up until this point. Because I know you got me something to commemorate this day.” Turning, you move to your backpack, shuffling through it. “But I made this in Wood Shop. Just to clear my head before tonight.”

Pulling the wrapped object out of your bag, you hand it to him, beaming proudly at him. Gently, he takes it from you, immediately trying to guess what it was from the weight and size of the box.

“I’ve been trying woodcarving more often than actual carpentry.” You explain as his pianist fingers unwrap the present. “I wanted you to have my first successful product.”

God, he was almost disgusted at how bright his heart was glowing, how much lighter it became at your words. Swallowing, he pulled a nearly black object out of the decorative box, his lips parting at the sight.

A carved rose laid elegantly between his fingers. The detail was impeccable, the petals imitating something delicate even if it was created from something so solid. The flower was heavy in his grasp, but with its weight came an accurate beauty. He hadn’t really studied the skill it would take to create something like this, but he planned to do some extensive research when he was able.

Still, he knew it took an intense study on angles, and an assured hand to make cuts in the right places. Kyoya also realized the time, the focus, and the determination that someone must have to make something as perfect as this. To see an image in the wood and reveal it to the world.

The Ootori son gently began to put the rose back into the box.

Your lip worried between your teeth. “It’s made out of Gaboon ebony, which is the darkest wood available in nature. I know you have a very specific color scheme for your spaces, so I thought that would fit perfectly as a desk decoration.”

Kyoya met your gaze, placing the lid on the giftbox.

Shrugging, you shifted, wondering why a man of many words had gone silent. “And I don’t know why, but I thought a rose would be a good image. It’s romantic, sure, but…I don’t know, they have a grace to them that matches yours. In my eyes, at least.” You say.

A finger pushes up his lens as he steps towards you, placing the box slowly onto the same spare table you had set your book.

His cologne washes over you as he does, and you swallow. “Do you not like it? I could make you something else, maybe something a little sharper. A rose might’ve been too feminine–”

Your doubt is halted as Kyoya surges forward, both of his skilled hands framing your face as he pulls your mouth to his. Surprise sounds against where your lips meet before it dissolves into a wanting breath, tilting your head a little more to absorb as much of his spontaneity as you can.

It’s a closed kiss, but you both fit together like a puzzle piece, and you feel every unspoken emotion between you as he holds you to him, your own arms slipping to his waist.

When he breaks apart, you’re blushing deeply, eyes scattering to see if anyone saw the public display of affection, but the crowd was too busy with their own conversations of boosting morale and good luck.

You came back to the moment, taking a breath as you clasp your hands behind his back. “What was that for?”

His own voice was breathless, but the dazed look in his eyes sharpened, and his kissed lips smirked back at you. “You earned it.”

And even if your many talents and expositions busied his schedule, the smile that grew on your face and the way he had to gently shove you away before you stole another kiss made it worth it.

.oOo.

Hikaru’s Reader:

Kickboxing

Nail Tech

Sewing

“I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

“No, baby. You can’t do that.”

“No, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

You sigh, holding a piece of gauze to your right cheek, and your other hand holds an ice pack to the back of your head. The swelling hadn’t gone down, so the skin was plump and red as you watched Hikaru pace the empty locker room. He ran his hands through his ginger locks, pivoting on his heel as he fumes.

Your costume fluttered around you. Since you made your own regalia, you had gone with a gold look this time. A spandex material grabbed against your muscled, shining in the metallic color, with stylish cut outs where you felt really emphasized your figure. Your hair had subtle gold streaks through it, but you were most proud of the cape you had draped over your shoulders.

It was embellished with a gold trim and heavy velvet fabric, something you wore before you entered the ring. It was luxurious, elegant, and it matched the same color in Hikaru’s eyes, already making you love it even more.

Hikaru made sure to find a pair of boxing gloves that matched, and he even offered to do your makeup before your match. He swiped gold eyeshadow over your (e/c) pools, and yellow gems traced under your waterline.

He had pretended to not be able to look at you, saying that you shine too brightly and he couldn’t stand your beauty any more.

Now, with these scratches and minor swellings, he wouldn’t look at you. Not in your sparkling eyes, at least. Only at the scratches.

“Hikaru. Kyoya would kill you if you murdered someone. You’d have to go to prison, leaving him down one Brotherly Love package.”

He puts his hands on his hips, pulling his lips between his teeth. “No, I don’t care. Kaoru will figure something out.”

He pauses when the referee of your most recent kickboxing match walks through the door. The ref clicks the door behind him, making eye contact with you as he makes his way towards you, the actual competitor.

But someone else wanted to step into the ring. A blur of orange stepped into the ref’s path, ginger clashing with black and white. “You’re gonna do something about that, right?”

The ref sighed, putting his hands up in a surrender move. “Sir, there isn’t much we can do–”

“No, shut up. You’re gonna fucking do something, right?” Hikaru gestures wildly, his eyes wild as he gets into the referee’s space. His arms direct over to you, his golden eyes scanning over your injuries for the millionth time. “Look at the love of my life. Look at them. I mean, something has to be illegal here, right? Those hits, they weren’t–, I mean, they were unconscious and they kept going!”

“Hikaru, please.” You say, bringing the gauze to another cut right above your eyebrow, chuckling a little bit. “Let the man speak. Maybe to the actual competitor. ”

Huffing, Hikaru turns to you, eyes fierce. But that fire melts into a warm sunlight as he realizes the fact that your hands are full trying to stop the bleeding and the swelling on your own. Exasperated, it takes two strides for him to be by your side.

“What’re you doing? Trying to do this yourself…” He criticizes, but you know there isn’t any fire behind it. Taking the ice pack, he grumbles, glaring daggers at the referee that moves to sit across one of the benches in the locker room. Hikaru holds the ice pack to your face, his other hand rubbing up and down your back softly.

The ref’s eyes look over the pair of you, sighing deeply. You rolled your eyes as the referee shuffled on the bench, looking guiltier by the second.

“I know I should’ve stopped them.” He admitted. “I hadn’t realized you were down for the count.”

You shift the gauze against your cheek. “Just be glad it didn’t result in anything more than a few scratches. But you should’ve been paying attention.”

Hikaru opens his mouth, but you shake your head. The referee nodded his head before hanging it.

“I know.” He spoke, clasping his hands in front of him. “You are usually such a good competitor, (Y/n), I thought you were going to get back up.”

Hikaru scoffed. “Are you pinning this on them?” He growled as he gripped the ice pack tighter. “That they should’ve been a better fighter so they didn’t get K.O.’d?”

“Hikaru–” You warn, but your boyfriend was nothing if he wasn’t stubborn, his fierceness burning under the surface.

“Of course not!” The referee stuttered. “I was only trying to explain–”

“Yeah, well, all I hear are excuses.” Hikaru bites, the arm on your back becoming tighter around your shoulders. “Get your boss in here. I want to speak to them.”

The man across from you gulped. “Are we sure that’s necessary?”

The Hitachiian twin’s teeth must’ve been razor sharp the way he barred them at the ref. “One hundred percent. I have no idea how ref’s like you get hired anyway, but I want to see who was dumb enough to actually sign the paper.”

“Baby, that’s enough.” You were scowling, but on the inside you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the ref’s face morphed from horror to the acceptance of his fate.

“Of course, sir.” Sighing, the referee offers one last apology before scratching the back of his head, the locker room door swinging behind his exeunt.

Hikaru was still muttering to himself as he brushed your hair out of your face, the strands wet with the sweat on your forehead. “Fucking people, don’t know how to do their jobs…”

“Hikaru…” Your voice is gentle as you pull the ice pack and gauze away from your face, your attractive features finally looking a little more normal. Your hand frames his cheek, and the anger in his eyes completely goes away. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I know that.” He frowns, the rasp in his voice carrying a sigh. But you could tell his eyes were still scanning your skin, making sure there weren't any other injuries that he missed. “And you’re tougher than you look.”

“Exactly.” A proud smirk plays on your lips.

“Plus,” That smirk that both annoys you and warms you rises to his mouth. “You’ve got a pretty thick skull. I think you could take a few more hits before it becomes a problem.”

Scoffing, you push him away. “I’m gonna hit you if you don’t shut up.”

“I think I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh really?” You wrap your arm around him, bringing him closer. “You’re a freak.”

“You’re a tease.” His canines sparkle when he smiles, and it’s all you can do to make the kiss you two share as short as possible. Otherwise, the way he gently cradles your face, or how his lips move against yours would pull you in forever.

A door swinging open interrupted your bliss anyway, and you two jumped apart. Hikaru groaned softly, a small blush coming onto his scowling cheeks.

A woman in a fine pressed suit walked across the tile, her heels echoing within the locker room. You recognized her as the manager of the ring in which you’ve had most of your kickboxing matches, and you rose to meet her.

“(Y/n).”

Clutching her hand, you shake it gently, aware of your sore shoulder. “Nice to see you again.”

Hikaru just folds his arms in the background, standing at your side. The manager gives a sidelong glance before giving you a business smile.

“I wanted to personally apologize for the oversight our referee had during your match tonight.” She says, her lip gloss catching the fluorescent lights above. “You are one of our most beloved fighters, the audience loves you and your unique costumes and looks.”

In her handshake, the manager felt the smooth texture on your fingernails, and turned your hand over in hers. “Your vibrant, fearless creativity inspires many people in our kickboxing world, even if you are a little unorthodox.”

Your nails are painted with a metallic background, and when she presses your fingernails together, they create a picture of an intricate, swirling gold dragon across your nail beds. It was beautiful, it was detailed, and it had been incredibly time consuming.

You kept your nails short, and the art was absolutely covered by your kickboxing gloves, but it made you feel powerful knowing that you creation was there, even if you were the one of two who knew it.

The manager's dark eyes slid to your boyfriend who had crossed his arms, still glaring daggers at the lady. She just smiled, her gaze dropping to where his hands were visible in the crevice of his elbow.

“And it seems you have a supportive partner, as well.” She comments, causing both of your eyebrows to crease before you realize what she is talking about. Hikaru flared out his own hands, and how you had done a small but still detailed nail piece on his own hands. His fingers matched yours in color and style, but instead of having the dragon across all five of his fingers, there was a baby one swirling on his thumbs and ring fingers.

He huffs, a smirk coming to his lips as he looks at your art for the millionth time today. “Yeah, they’re pretty incredible.”

“I don’t doubt it.” The manager nods, a sweet smile on her lips. “Both in the ring and out of it, you are definitely a prize. Which is why we’d like to give you one.”

“You want to give me a prize?” You ask, a little surprise leaking into your voice. “For losing?”

The manager hums. “More for winning over the crowd, or for keeping this little instance between us. No one was seriously injured, and–”

“How about I give you the same bruises that competitor gave my partner, and then we’ll see what you think counts as ‘seriously injured’.” Hikaru growls, cracking his knuckles. He steps forward, but you stop him with your arm.

“Threatening them won’t do anything.” You sigh, but your mouth turns into a scowl. “But I’m not taking your ‘hush’ money.”

“Well,” The manager scoffs, her calm facade cracking slightly. “We must do something. If you are to continue to fight here, then all of us have to–”

“They aren’t gonna fight here anymore, then.” Hikaru’s voice cuts through the manager’s pompous assumptions, and he grabs your hand, gently moving you around her straight posture.

Her heels clack as she follows you in earnest. “Wait, you can’t speak for them.”

But as you follow behind your boyfriend, a man who is angry for your safety and your honor, you spin around, smirking through your scratches as you give them the middle finger. “You’re right, he can’t. But, even if it’s rare, he’s right. I’m out of here.”

Her slick ponytail is fraying. “But, you can’t! You have a contract!”

Hikaru mirrors your actions, and now you both are flipping her off as you back out of the locker room, your glorious cape draped across his arm.

“I’ll pay whatever it takes to break ‘em out of it,” He says, his smirk growing. “And for you to leave them alone.”

Then, you both do a lazy salute as you finally step out of that locker room, out of that situation.

Laughing, Hikaru stops his walking, causing you to stumble into him. He catches you, and you both break out into a fit, holding onto each other as you walk to his car.

Easily, he presses you up against the passenger side, using a finger to push a piece of gold-painted hair back into place. His other hand comes to gently cup the other side of your face, his thumb lightly tracing a scratch on your cheekbone.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He says, his scratchy voice vibrating into the setting sky. “Gotta get you bandaged up, baby.”

.oOo.

Kaoru’s Reader:

Sketching

Baseball

Writing

“You know,” Kaoru said, pins between his teeth as he took them out of the bodice of your outfit one by one. “Everytime we do this, I still get distracted by you. Everytime.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes even as a blush comes to your cheeks. “You’re an even worse flirt than Tamaki.”

A groan sounds behind you as you feel hands pry the bodice off of your torso. “Don’t talk about the Boss when I am literally undressing you.”

Cool, conditioned air rushes across your newly bare skin as Kaoru throws the garment across the car seat, the leather sticking to your back as you lean into it. Arching your hips, you tug the bottom of your dress pants off, making sure the divider was up between you and your boyfriend’s family driver.

“You sure he can’t see us?” You ask, wiggling out of your underwear.

Kaoru sets the pins into his cushion, smiling. “Per usual, no.” Then the redhead turns, his smirk revealing a sharp canine. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing?”

“Kaoru!”

He cackles, but he can’t help his eyes when they drag over your bare form. Yes, changing clothes in his car was a normal thing due to your busy schedule with your many hobbies, but he never got tired of having you naked in his backseat.

He tsks. “Are you sure we don’t have time to–”

The pants you had been wearing flew into his face. “No!” You sounded a laugh as he pulled the garment off his head, and you chuckled at the way his red hair fluffed when he did.

His pale hand reaches down and grabs the duffel bag, packing the black tie outfit you wore to your art show into it and pulling out your team uniform. You pulled on the right undergarments that would support you sliding across the dirt in a baseball diamond, and caught your jersey when Kaoru threw it at you from across the car seat.

“Going from riches to rags.” He says, arranging your cleats next to you with the appropriate socks.

“You literally made these uniforms, babe.” You say, deadpanning as you squeeze yourself into the form-fitting bottoms.

“I know that.” He says, eyeing the way your toned body fills the sporty look nicely. “But I much prefer the elegant attire that I pinned you into earlier.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” You add, distracted as you put the baseball cap on your head, your team logo facing out towards the front seat. “Everyone loved what I was wearing.”

His lips quirked to one side. “Well, duh.”

“Expectedly so.” You tighten your belt around your waist. “But this afternoon’s outfit was…well it was just really spectacular.” Your smile reflects against the city lights.

Now dressed in the full baseball regalia, you lean over to your own personal fashionista, putting a finger under his chin.

“I’m really lucky to have Japan’s second best fashion designer as my quick-change roadie.”

Any sweetness in Kaoru's eyes vanishes, and a second after your lips are a breath away, he is pushing you to the other end of the backseat. “Oh yeah? Then someone else can get you dressed for your book reading tomorrow.”

You gasp. “Oh no. Whatever will I do without the expert way you zip a zipper?”

The Hitachiuan twin feigned offense. “That’s what I majored in.”

“And what about your knowledge on what colors I look best in? I’ll be so washed out.”

He crosses his arms, still looking at you with a smug simper. “You’ll just have to figure it out.”

Shrugging, you cross your legs, your cleats knocking against each other. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to undress me in the backseat of their family’s car.”

A hum sounds to the other side of you, like honey being poured into tea. “Now that’s something I know no one can do better than I can.”

Two manicured hands are suddenly around your waist, and you are dragged across leather. The soft material of your pants are seated into Kaoru’s lap, while, like instinct, your arms wrap around his neck.

“I think we can finally agree on something.” You concede, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. The city rushes by outside of the limo’s glass, but time stands still when your lips touch. A pleased sound resonates in the back of his throat when you nip at his bottom lip, and you feel him smile into the kiss.

Pulling away, you share another longing moment before you groan, your head resting into the crook of his neck.

“Are you sure the art show went well?” You ask, hiding your insecurity as you bury your nose into Kaoru’s cologne.

Chuckling, you feel his hands casually lock around your hip. His cheek comes to rest on the top of your head, the two of you squished to one side of the seat. “I’m sure. You’re talented, you know that.”

“I do, but I’ve just been so distracted with everything that I have going on.” You can hear his pulse inside his throat, encouraging you to open up a little more. “I balance so much that it feels hard to put 100 percent of my effort into everything I do. I feel like I’m half-assing it.”

“(Y/n), babe.” He brings your face away so that you can look at him clearly. The driver makes a right turn, the force pushing the two of you closer together. “Sketching, sports, writing. All of these things are your life. You’re allowed to put your energy into multiple outlets at once, as long as it’s not draining you.”

“I don’t think it is.” And he knew that. He knew that even if you seemed tired after a hard day in the studio, or maybe a tough day at practice, the smile on your face was genuine. You always put everything you had into everything you did, and that was just one of the things he adored about you.

“My partner is an all star, author, and an artist.” Kaoru says, a proud glint in his golden eyes. “And you know what? Because of that, I’m never bored.”

“Thank god for that. It ceases your regularly-scheduled destruction.” You say, a finger twirling into his ginger strands. “Although Hikaru probably misses his partner in crime.”

Kaoru just shrugs. “Hikaru has always been able to create his own chaos, he’ll be fine.”

“So, if you have this much confidence in me, then you must think my first book reading tomorrow is going to go well too, right?”

“I couldn’t be more sure. I was able to read the whole thing, and I don’t think I’ve been able to finish a fiction book in my life.” The twin admits, and you smirk.

“Well, that’s obvious.”

His golden irises roll. “Very funny.”

“Then, what about this game?” You ask, looking out the window to see the baseball stadium peek out from the horizon. You still had a ways to go. “Think I’m gonna win?”

There was silence. You got lost in the city’s sparkling skyline a little longer before your gaze snapped down to your boyfriend’s, just to see him avoiding your gaze.

“Kaoru?”

“Huh? What?” He says, and he runs a hand over your jawline. “Wow, babe, you’re so beautiful.”

Scoffing, you lean away from him. “You don’t think we’re gonna win?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Kaoru, you only have so many thoughts that can fit into the pea-sized brain of yours.” You say, laughing. “You should not be wasting that space doubting me.”

“I will never doubt you.” He says, grabbing your hand that began to poke at his forehead to see if you could hear an echo.

“I will, however,” the Hitachiian brother raises your hand to his lips, “realize that while you are immensely talented, baseball is a team effort.”

You give him a blank look. “And my team sucks.”

He kisses your hand. “They suck so bad.”

And you're laughing. A few seconds ago, you were drowning into your anxiety, but Kaoru made you feel light enough to float above them all. Balancing multiple things at once was hard work, but having a man like him at your side made it easier.

Your laughter dies down, and there’s an extra spark in Kaoru’s eye that paired well with the city lights reflected in his pupils.

You hit his chest, even as he snakes kisses up your shoulder and onto your neck. “Kaoru, we can’t.”

“The stadium is still a ways away. We have time.”

Your skin tingles under his touch, and you sigh. “Kaoru…” You weakly try to push him away, but he holds onto your hips.

“(Y/n)…”

Huffing out a breath, you take off your baseball cap so you can properly kiss him without it bumping into Kaoru’s forehead. “Fine, but we have to be quick.”

His laughter rings out as he pulls you into his chest, and you are already second-guessing his intentions on making it quick as he draws his tongue slowly up your throat.

It’s a good thing the divider was up.

.oOo.

Mori’s Reader

Fencing

Yoga

Poetry

Swords clashed, the metal twinge sounding against the Hinoki cypress that covered the dojo’s walls. And each time you and your opponents’ swords would cross, your heart would pound in sync, both beats echoing with your efforts.

Thirteen touches. Your opponent had scored thirteen touches against you within this bout, and you were determined to not let him get the last two he needed to win. Lunging, your sabre jabs across the piste with a grunt from your lips, only to have it wacked away immediately by your competitor.

You clench your jaw as you ward off one of his own jabs, trying to see through the mesh of your fencing mask. The long torso of the man across from you twists, leaning to the right. But once you move to block it, he swerves, turning to the left and touching you in the ribs.

Huffing, you rip off your mask, your hair fluffing out once freed of the hard shell. “You’re kidding me.”

Mori easily slides off his own helmet, letting the smug grin on his face widen at the sight of your exasperation. His black hair fell slightly in front of his face before he pushed it out of the way, a few drops of sweat beginning to bead on the edge of his jawline.

Grumbling, you point your saber half-heartedly at him. “I’ve been fencing my whole life and you only started a couple months ago. How are you so good at this?”

He shrugged his shoulders in a way that was so irritatingly handsome, you had to force your head back into your mask.

“Again.” You demand.

With one hand, Mori effortlessly readjusts his own gear, and you both fall back into a fighting stance.

Your boyfriend had always been good at things without ever trying too hard. It seems he had an eerily accurate way of breaking any sport, art form, or hobby down to its basics, and extorting it in front of his opponents. Easily, he analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of any obstacle he was put up against, and bent them to his advantage.

He was smart, analytical, and having way too much fun watching you become frustrated as he brought you both to match point. You could tell by the way he stood, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep himself agile, his martial arts training coming in handy. He held his sword out with one arm, and the other bent at his back, but his shoulders were dropped low, a casual stance as he became more confident in his victory.

Growling, you lunged first, starting your combat again. You were aggressive, and you took pleasure in seeing his shoulders rise as he took a defensive position against your attacks. Arms burning, you swiped and slashed at his white suit, all of your fencing training becoming honed into this very moment. You were sure a soundtrack could be made to emphasize the way you moved forward, forcing him to step back and block any chaotic jabs and swipes that you threw his way.

You heard him gasp as his foot dropped off the piste, and his tall body tripped, falling backwards as you stood over him, the vertex of your sabre denting the clothing on his chest.

His chest heaved with the effort, and you crouched, once again pulling off your headwear. “That’s more like it.”

You pulled off his mask as well, this time leaving the thick strands that fell into his brown eyes. His confident smirk had been replaced with a slight scowl. Stepping in between his legs, you met his eye level.

“Fourteen to fourteen.” You bragged, letting your sword rest on your shoulder. “Now, we’re tied. Again.”

A displeased grunt came from the stoic's mouth.

“This little competition of ours has been fun.” You say, molding your voice to sound bored as you exhale, standing up and putting out a hand for him. “But it looks like I will emerge victorious.”

Your boyfriend’s visage fell blank, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand and lifting himself up, towering over you as he folds his arms around your waist.

Bending like a branch in the wind, Mori tightens his hold as he presses you into his chest. One of his hands came to cup your face, forcing your gaze to focus on the small beads of sweat dancing across his skin. “We’ll see.”

Then he kisses your cheek, turns you around, and pushes you back to your end of the piste. Refusing to wipe the smirk off your face, you reset, readying your sabre with new confidence.

This time, you both take the offensive, aggressively sparring as your blades crash together in hurried movements. He blocks your jabs, and you leap over his attempts to sweep you off your feet, ignoring the legality of your movements. Sweat begins to gleam on your forehead under your mask, but your smile only grows.

As he takes another step to jab at your shoulder, you lean to the side, effectively dodging his attack to see that he has left himself wide open. Victory fuels your heartbeat as you lunge, even going as far as letting out a confident hah! as you aim the point towards the side of his ribcage.

Suddenly, Mori turned on his heel. With incredible speed, he swipes your sabre away as if he knew exactly where it was going to strike. He grunts as he pushes you back, both you and your sabre stumbling to the floor with his strength, and all you can do is sit there empty-handed as he juts the end of his sword right above your heart.

Huffing, you fall, letting your back hit the piste with a disgruntled groan. You hear a dark chuckle as steps move towards your fallen body.

“That’s fifteen.” Mori confirms as he stands over you, his already-tall form looking enormous from your position on the ground.

“Yes, I can count, thank you.” You grumble, ripping off your mask for the last time.

He puts pressure on the point where his own sword pinpoints your skin, your heart fluttering for different reasons when he reveals his face. Flushed, disheveled, and confident in his win.

The way his lips slightly lifted on either side, the way his dark chocolate eyes glimmered over your exhausted form. You wanted to kiss that smug look off his face.

But you wanted to win more.

Batting the sword away, he reaches out a hand to help you up, pulling you to your feet. The Ouran Highschool Gym bustles with students. Some engage in kendo matches that Mori observes silently, most likely learning from other’s mistakes.

Picking your sabre up from the aftermath of your loss, you gently raise the end under his chin, quirking an eyebrow as he tenses and focuses his gaze back on you.

“Your opponent is in front of you, Takashi. Shouldn’t you be paying attention?”

His gaze melted into something smooth and dark. “The game is over.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of his victory.

“Far from it.” The end of your blade dips gently into his skin for a second before you flick it away, nudging his chin softly. Turning from him, you call over your shoulder. “On to the next event!”

After changing out of your fencing attire, you’re sat across from him, a(n) (f/c) yoga mat splayed out below you as he sits atop a dark blue one. Given the charged looks he gave you before you entered a dressing room, you knew that it was game on. Both of your competitive spirits had been stoked, and you only had more motivation to kick that – admittedly very nice – ass of his.

Taking a deep breath, you let the air in the gym still around you. Yoga was another one of your hobbies that you enjoyed because it gave you a chance to center yourself in the midst of chaos a certain club instilled within your life. You had picked it up when you started high school, and even your teacher said you were a natural, as you were able to really embody the purpose and true zen of yoga.

Flicking your eyes towards your boyfriend, you find that he is already looking back at you, patiently waiting for your instructions on the next round of your spontaneous competition. His eyes are warm, the smallest of smiles on his lips as they track your figure, watching as you find peace in your posture.

Shaking your head affectionately, you rock on your hips, nudging him gently with your arm. “Stop staring and listen up. I’m gonna choose a pose, and whoever holds it the longest wins.”

Mori gives you a suspicious, playful glare. “But you’ll choose something that you’re good at. That I can’t hold.”

You smile, sickeningly sweet, and Mori rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“Great!” Your grin only grows as you call out the position: Vrschikasana, or the Scorpion. Mori’s eyes flash in recognition, remembering the weeks you spent perfecting it while he trained in his dojo, and the knots he had to massage out of you afterwards.

You narrow your eyes, planting your palms on your mat. “Unless you want to give up?”

His dark gaze hardened before something fierce ignited in his visage. “No. It’s fine.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the gym’s expensive walls – honestly, it really over the top for a physical center. Shifting your weight onto your hands, Mori follows your movements as you both lift into a handstand before arching your back, pointing your toes as they bend to touch the top of your head.

God, you loved the burn through your hamstrings, the strength of your muscles holding yourself up, seemingly weightless off the ground. You sucked in a breath, allowing your lungs to open up, your throat to loosen, and let yourself just breathe.

“You’re smiling.” A strangled voice drenched in disbelief observes next you, and you turn your head carefully so as to not knock your balance.

The chuckle that runs through you nearly does, though.

You catch yourself as you watch Mori’s arms start to shake, his breathing a little haphazard as he puts as much effort into the stretch as he can. You also watch as his muscles flex, his shirt discarded in order to cool off from your fencing tournament, eyes traveling as the lines flinch and twitch with the commitment to keep himself off the ground.

Mori was a strong guy. Defined, agile, and built with pounds of lean muscle. But yoga took a different kind of strength. It was a test of endurance and balance, a mental strength that knew no limits.

There was a reason you and Mori worked so well together.

About ten seconds from your record time holding this position, Mori topples, his legs falling over his head as he somersaults, landing with his back flat against the mat.

You chuckle, half concerned for his health from the fall, half gloating for your win. Easily coming back down to the ground, your breath heaves a little as you try to catch your breath.

“You okay, Takashi?” You ask, it being your turn to stand over him, smirking in victory.

He just grunts, giving you a bored look.

“Crybaby.” You say, sitting next to him.

“Show off.” He retorts, warmth in his eyes.

You laugh again, the rare insult leaving the exhausted stoic’s mouth. “Wanna do one more round?”

Mori’s eyes search yours for a second before nodding. “But I get to pick.”

“Sure, that seems fair.” You say, peeling back the hair on his forehead. “Go for it.”

He gets that thoughtful look in is gaze, a glint that taught you to wait patiently by his side in silence until he was comfortable to speak.

“Poetry.”

A surprised scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “Sorry, sorry. It just…that’s not a test of strength.” You say, laughing a little. As much as you loved poetry, reading and writing it, it seemed a little out of left field.

Mori shrugged his shoulders, still laid out on the floor. “Emotional strength.” He said, smart eyes smiling up at you softly.

And how could you argue with that?

Ten minutes later, sweatpants and pump covers are thrown back on your bodies as you both sit in a small corner of the gym, legs tangled as you lean against opposing walls. Notebooks in hand, your pens fly across the page, the scribbling sounds comforting as you each get lost in your own thoughts.

When it comes time to present, you go first. When Mori realizes you wrote yours about him, about how strong he was, and how safe he made you feel, it makes his tired, sore body slump against his side of the wall. His hand reaches out for yours, listening intently to your words.

His poem had a smaller word count, but the vocabulary was moving, and you laughed gently when you realized he wrote his about you. About how strong you were, and how safe you made him feel. And he held your hand the entire time he read it to you.

Let’s just say your game ended in a tie.

.oOo.

not proofread, but i enjoyed writing it!

hope you all have a great day. just give me some time to get back into the groove of things. writing is my escape, and i truly do love it. just need to find the energy :) love you <3

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martiniblues · 1 year

Text

i’ll be your (not so) temporary fix ; 이제노

pairing fwb!jeno x female!reader

synopsis you and jeno had agreed for this to be temporary, with no strings attached. as your heart began to grow addicted to him, you knew you had to call it quits but he finds a way to make you stay.

genre fwb to lovers, angst, mutual pining, slightly suggestive, jeno is kind of a douche bag at the beginning, very fluffy at the end.

wc 1.7k

song : temporary fix by one direction

last night:

"god jen! it’s fucking crazy in here." you strained your voice towards the blonde giant next to you, but the words only sounded like a whisper to him over the blaring music. even with the noise and bumping bodies, his attention averted itself to you, as it always did.

without a word, he wrapped one hand around your wrist and the other around your waist before pulling you out of the dance floor and to an empty corner of the club.

the friends you had previously been with were now all scattered around the massive room doing god knows what, but jeno never left your side, not even for a second.

now there you stood, pressed against one another, and suddenly it felt as if you two were the only ones there. jeno smiled at you before leaning down, making his mouth level with your ear and his warm cheek press against yours.

"let’s get out of here, yeah?" his voice was hoarse from all his yelling, and his words were a bit slurred due to the many shots he took earlier that night. he pulled back to look at you for an answer, and with a small nod, he kissed you swiftly as you both stumbled out of the back of the club.

he quickly whipped out his phone to call a taxi since neither of you were in the right space to walk back to his place or get a ride from your, also drunk, friends.

the two of you stood in front of a vacant convenience store that was only a couple minutes from the club you were previously at, hands all over each other.

typically, you two were like teenagers, frantically trying to jump each other and feel everything swiftly. maybe it was the alcohol in both of your systems, but your movements were slow-paced and sensual.

to strangers, they might have thought you two were a couple. but that’s not what you two were at all.

no matter how much you loved him.

no matter how much you loved when he would call you "pretty baby."

no matter how many times people called you "his girl."

you and jeno were purely temporary, and that’s how he wanted it to be.

present morning:

you rolled over on the familiar sheets of jeno’s bed, groaning into the pillows that reeked of his musky cologne and your sweet perfume.

these were how mornings typically went when you stayed the night with jeno, which was more than you wished at this point.

he would be gone before the sun rose to go to the gym and would head straight to work after that, leaving you alone in his bed with nothing but your clothes crinkled on the floor and nasty protein bars in his cabinets for breakfast. it was almost second nature for you to navigate his place as if it were your own.

sliding out from the covers, you reached for a pair of his athletic shorts that were folded on the ground and picked up a stranded t-shirt that would suffice since you didn’t have work today.

you checked yourself out in his mirror to be greeted by a familiar sight of the aftermath of lee jeno. small marks littered your neck, and you stretched the shirt downward to see that they trailed down your chest as well.

you knew there were more elsewhere, but knowing that they were there hurt more than you wanted him to know, so you pushed back the tears and collected your things as best you could into your small purse.

you opened his bedroom door only to be greeted by a shirtless, freshly showered jeno sitting at his kitchen island.

"oh… sorry i was just going." your face flushed as if it were your first time seeing him without his shirt on, and your legs scattered towards the door.

he laughed lightly at your state, your hair disheveled and body swallowed by his clothes. he wishes his heart hadn’t begun racing at your cute antics.

"no you’re fine. it’s no rush. i don’t have work today anyway, so you can eat if you want. i made extra for you anyway, so…" his fork played with the contents of his plate sheepishly.

it’s odd how you both have seen each other in such venerable situations. he’s held your hair while you puked your guts out, held your body flush against his for hours, and done other things that never come up in conversation. but somehow, simple everyday conversations with him made it feel like he was a stranger.

at late hours of the night and early hours of the morning, jeno was the most loving human you could ever ask for. he made you feel beautiful and wanted, aside from the fact that you knew he didn’t want you.

for sex? sure, but actually have? not as much.

sometimes your brain tells your heart otherwise. like when he would play with your hair after sex and talk to you about anything and everything. or when you would lay with him between your legs and watch stupid disney movies, just to end up just lazily making out and falling asleep together.

everyone saw the both of you as one, no matter how many times you told them "it wasn’t like that".

this was the first time he stayed the morning after, and you didn’t think this was a new addition to your "relationship" you could handle. hell, you couldn’t handle it at all anymore.

your eyes began to sting with the knowledge of what you were about to do. you had avoided it for so long; there was no going back now.

"jeno…" you began, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. his head shot towards yours, and his brows instantly furrowed at the tears that started streaming down your face. "i can’t do whatever this is with you anymore. it’s too much for me to be with you but not with you." you instantly turned away and rushed for the door, only to be stopped by a hand on your wrist.

"what- what are you doing?" he tried to look into your eyes, but you refused, thrashing around in his hold. "let me go, jeno! i’m done with this shit!" he had never heard you yell like this before, which left him utterly confused. you two had done this so much; what was now suddenly changing your mind?

he couldn’t let you go. not without a reason.

you ripped your hand from his grip and pushed your palm against his chest, causing him to stumble back slightly.

"don’t you get it? you call me all these sweet things, hold me all night, and expect me to not catch feelings for you? i have been hopelessly and endlessly in love with you for months, and just when i think you might even like me, you shut me out until you need me or want me. but you don’t want me at all. i’m so sick and tired of not being able to have you the way i need to. whatever this was is over." you leaned your head against the door, catching your breath from the outburst you caused.

"baby…" he didn’t touch you; he just leaned against the wall to be level with you. "don’t call me that." you hissed, reaching for the door knob.

"(y/n) listen to me, please." his voice caused you to stop and turn back around. as much as you hated to admit it, he was your biggest weakness, like it or not.

you sighed, finally looking up into his eyes, which, to your surprise, were glossed over.

"i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for making you feel like i didn’t want you. it's just- i was so scared that you didn’t want me like i want you, and i tried not to get too caught up in you, which is very hard. all i think about is you, and i’m sorry if i made it seem that i was just using you for sex, but i want so much more than that, you have no idea. i want you to be more to me than a temporary fix in my life." there were now tears rushing down both of your cheeks. the only sound was the tv playing faintly in the living room.

you didn’t know what to do, overcome with so much love and anger for this man standing right in front of you. you dropped your belongings to the floor to quickly wrap your arms around his neck and pull him flush against you. his hands winding around your waist and bunching your (his) shirt between his fingers.

"i’m so sorry (y/n)." he sobbed into your neck. you shushed him before he began swaying your bodies from side to side. you two stayed like that for a few more minutes, completely absorbing each other.

"god…" you laughed and sniffled as you pulled back slightly so you could look at jeno’s face. he giggled slightly, his face pulling into your favorite sight. your fingers ran through his soft blond locks as his hands ran over your back.

you both looked into each other's eyes with so much desire and need but refused to move, too scared to make a mess of what was now just beginning to become clean.

"i meant everything i said. i would have talked for hours if you had let me." his voice came out scratchy from crying but somehow lifted the last bit of regret from your shoulders.

without another word, you moved one of your hands to his neck and smashed his lips against yours. it was intense but slow, and both of you were relieved with the knowledge of wanting one another.

his hands combed through your hair before he pulled away and rested his head against yours. "i want to have you as much as you’ll let me. i don’t care if it’s now or if you need time, but i’ll wait for you." his eyes were closed as he spoke to you, hoping you would believe him.

"even if i needed time, i don’t think that’s possible when it comes to you." you laughed, kissing him one last time before pulling away entirely to lean against the door once more.

this time, he followed you and placed his hands on your waist, making no move to take things further. "just…" he began, leaning his head on the wall as close to yours as possible while your hands came to stroke his forearms.

"let me be your goodnight."

notes | temporary fix is one of my all time fav one direction songs so i just had to write a fic on it. also i’ve been in such a jeno brain rot recently UGHHHHH HE IS SOOOOOOO!!! also i’ve has a bit more time to write so hopefully i can be more consistent. lots of love to you and i hope you enjoyed this!

#jeno #lee jeno #jeno imagines #jeno fic #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct scenarios #nct #nct dream #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct angst #lee jeno fluff #jeno x reader #nct x reader #jeno scenarios

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s-awturn · 14 days

Text

Moon Spell || CS55

summary: They were fated to love someone they hated. There was no spell, no grudge, no curse that could break the bond that united them, doomed to die in the feelings they fiercely nurtured. The Moon had determined it and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“These violent pleasures have violent ends, and die in their triumph, like fire and gunpowder, which, when they kiss, consume each other. The sweetest honey is disgusting in its own sweetness, and its taste confuses the palate.”

cw: Violence, conflict, soulmates, blood, magic, alternate universe, obscenity, pure filth, chaos, fighting, swearing, intense hatred, love, mention of death, blood.

a/n: I can't believe how long this chapter turned out, I wrote it all after work (in fact I'm posting it while I'm going to work hehehe) I'm not sure if what I wrote turned out well, So be honest when commenting, okay? Okay. Happy reading and enjoy!

starring: werewolf!Carlos x witch!Fem reader

1. we were born to die; | 2. monsters; | 3. war of hearts;

So lift up my body

And lose all control

I'm giving you all

She didn't have time to watch where she was running, her only concern was to keep a large distance between herself and the gigantic wolf that was chasing her. She could almost feel the werewolf's hot breath on the back of her neck and his growls were close enough to make her heart pound in her chest, she jumped over the root of a large chestnut tree before rolling down the cliff, but that didn't stop her from running when she found ground. Y/N didn't even waste time looking back, she didn't want or need to know where the werewolf was, she knew he was still on her trail, there was no place where the witch could hide.

Not with Carlos gripped by a strange frenzy that seemed to cloud all his senses.

She heard his howl, the moon at that moment shone high in the sky, illuminating the gaps between the trees, making the forest even darker and prone to an insane chase.

This wasn't what I was planning for my night, she thought in frustration, holding the hem of her skirts to help her run better. Her dress was filthy — this seemed to be very common when it came to her and Carlos — the branches made tiny cuts on her face and arms, and there was mud drying on her face. Y/N was a mess.

She tripped over a fallen branch and almost fell to the ground. It was by the grace of the Goddess that she managed to regain her balance and continue running.

“I can't let him catch me, I can't" she huffed, trying to keep up the courage and stamina to keep running, the adrenaline strengthening the witch's legs, propelling her forward.

Keep running, little witch, keep running, her instincts said.

— ☽ —

His plans for that full moon night were simple: leave Y/N at Blanca's house and spend the night in the forest, as far away from the little witch as he could. There was no way it could go wrong.

But the way his skin felt itchy, the discomfort growing in his chest and the distance from Y/N made him fall into ruin.

And for that reason, when the Moon rose in the sky, Carlos found himself taking the opposite path through the forest, he followed the trail that led to his sister's house, the distinctive scent of lavender and lemon filled his lungs, further stirring the raging beast within him. It didn't matter if Carlos didn't agree, so what if he and Y/N hated each other? The wolf inside the man wanted the witch and he would have her that night. Even if he had to subdue Carlos' body to do so.

Carlos literally knocked down the door of Blanca's house and the woman understood that it was no longer her brother there, the golden eyes revealed that the wolf was in command and nothing could stop the beast from getting what he wanted.

Blanca knew that Y/N wasn't ready yet for whatever she and Carlos had, but there was no physical way to stop her brother's wolf from invading the small room where she was.

“Run Y/N!” She screamed, but it was useless because at that point, the witch was already deep in the forest, running desperately. That only encouraged the werewolf even more, he abandoned the hut and transformed into the air, running after his sweet prey between the trees. If the brightness of the moon combined with Carlos's wide vision didn't make it clear where she was running, her smell mixed with the aroma of fear would tell which direction she was taking. Her scent made the werewolf salivate to the point that it ran between his sharp canines, dripping down his jaw, the wolf wanted to drown in the witch's sweet perfume, he wanted to mark the silky skin, bite the soft flesh and make Y/N what she was born to be: his mate.

The werewolf could reach Y/N at any moment, but he wanted to see the witch run, he wanted to hear her heartbeat, the smell of the witch's adrenaline and fear perfuming the air. He heard her rasping breathing, her running footsteps, she could barely see where she was running, minutes before she rolled down an entire cliff, but that didn't stop her from continuing to run.

Meters later, she tripped over a root and almost fell, and this persistence made the wolf even more eager for her. Y/N ran until she stopped in a cave hidden under a handful of trees that few knew about.

So convenient…

Her heart echoed in the cave, the wolf licked its teeth, hungry as it trotted towards where its prey was trying to escape. The cave was large and there were several chambers inside it, an opening in the cave's high ceiling allowed the moon to illuminate the cyan-colored waters of the natural pool there. The cave had two exits, one of which was blocked by the werewolf and the other, which led to the stream, was submerged.

There was no way Y/N could run away from him and that drew a deep growl from the wolf. She walked backwards until she hit the rough stone wall, she was alert, the witch thought of ways to escape from there, to escape the werewolf's dominant and persecuting energy, she scanned the entire cave, looking for exits. Y/N was too nervous to summon her own magic and defend herself.

Only the golden glow of the werewolf's eyes could be seen from where he was, Y/N would not see the werewolf taking control of the man's body, at most you could hear the sound of bones breaking before they were rebuilt again.

“You can't run away from me, little witch” he said, walking towards her, Y/N pushed herself further against the rocks, but nothing changed, she remained in the same place. Carlos' naturally deep voice took on a huskier, more animalistic and open tone, he wanted his voice to echo.

“S-Stay away from me!” She shouted, warning him. “D-Don’t come any closer!”

He laughed, a deep laugh that seemed to come from deep within his chest.

“You'll never keep me away from you, little witch...” he replied, crossing the moonlight, making Y/N sure that Carlos wasn't in control of his own body, not completely. “You are mine and I like to keep what belongs to me close to me... Even if I have to hold it between my teeth”

And with that, he smiled, showing his large fangs, the result of divided dominance, the witch's heartbeat increased and the damp smell of her sweat was present.

“You won't get what you want from me," she said, her trembling voice and wide eyes conveying no firmness, the wolf hummed in contentment.

“You will gladly give me whatever I ask of you, little witch” and suddenly he was glued to her, Y/N screamed in fright as she felt him so close. Close enough that they could both feel each other's heat, close enough for the werewolf to grab her jaw and lift Y/N's chin, making room so he could slide his nose over the delicate skin of her neck, sending strong shivers down the girl's spine. “Fucking good” Y/N whimpered when she heard him growl and gasped in fright as she felt his tongue lick a stripe from the base of her neck to her chin.

She tried to pull away, but the werewolf held her waist, keeping her trapped between him and the wall.

“Shh, quiet,” he growled, nibbling on her ear.

“Let me go!” She tried to pull away, struggling in his grip. The wolf smiled fiercely as she lost the rhythm of her own breathing.

“I’m starting to think you like running away from me, little witch...” the man retorted “Always running, running away... Do you like me chasing you, little witch?” he grabbed her hips and made her ride his thigh, which Y/N didn't even feel was between her legs. She bit her lip until she tasted blood on her tongue, feeling a strange tremor shake her insides. She had never felt this before, it was strange and warm. Her whole body heated with it.

Y/N heard the growl close to her ear, and moved her hips as per his command.

“Holy hell” his husky voice made her shiver even more “your smell is driving me crazy, little witch”

A shred of consciousness cleared the witch's clouded mind and she took advantage of the moment to run away from him, However, it was not even able to reach the edge of the natural pool, because it was knocked down aggressively, but did not reach the ground. The wolf made sure she fell on his body.

“I told you, little witch, I won’t let you get away, ever,” he said before pushing his mouth against Y/N’s, swallowing her complaints, her frightened little scream. He devoured her mouth hungrily, a growl grew in his chest as he tasted her, still sweet and mystical like her own owner; he bit and sucked her lips until Y/N moaned, resting her hands on his bare chest. The werewolf devoured every breath she had and when they pulled away, she was flushed, her lips swollen and her eyes fluttering, completely surrendered. The sight made the wolf even more eager to take her entirely, he wanted her badly, he was hungry for her and needed more.

I needed to devour her as soon as possible.

“Too perfect, little witch” he slid his thumb over Y/N’s swollen lip, before kissing her again, and this time, he made sure to slide his hands over her body, undoing the fragile seams of the coarse dress. She had never been kissed and didn't expect her first kiss to be like that, intense, feral and wild. She was being swallowed by her own sensations, she felt his sharp nails tearing the fabric of her clothes, his mouth kissing her with such passion, she didn't know what to focus on, everything was extremely overwhelming.

Her back arched spontaneously as she felt his fingers trail up her spine, and the wolf stopped kissing her, nibbling on her shoulder and the skin of her collarbone, leaving sweet bite marks, making her gasp. Her body responded so well, so easily.

“I’m going to devour you, love,” he growled, “I’m going to eat you whole, and when I’m done, there won’t be a single piece of you left that I haven’t enjoyed.”

He laid her down beneath him, stretched out on her torn clothes. Her chest rose and fell so fast he could barely keep up. Y/N tried to cover her naked body, but her hands were held by him, high above her head, firmly against the floor. Shame heated her cheeks, for the creature who controlled Carlos' body looked at her as if she were… Divine, a goddess, a sacred woman he wanted to worship in every way.

“I don’t care if you run away, because I will always find you, little witch, but I won’t allow you to hide from me, don’t hide from me what belongs to me, ever again.” the deep and dominant voice sounded double in her ears, giving Y/N the certainty that Carlos seemed to share control of the body with his beast. There was no biologically possible way for his heart to be beating faster than it was at that moment.

He scraped his nails across her skin, gently enough that she let out a soft little moan, and her voice rose in pitch as his thumb circled her sensitive nipple.

“See how well your body responds to me, little witch? Why do you insist on denying us this, huh?” he questioned, seeing the sensitive spot harden under his touch, and taking her by surprise, he covered the girl's nipple with his mouth, sucking until she screamed, so loud and sweet that it shook his body with satisfaction. Y/N felt like she was on fire, Carlos sucked like a baby as he made his calloused fingers slide down her torso, making gentle circles as he went down, she grabbed his hair and whimpered, her body moving without control, an unexpected chill shook the muscles of her belly when she felt his fingers below her navel.

Carlos groaned in delight as he sniffed the air and felt the scent of her arousal hit him like a punch. He licked and bit her nipple one last time.

“So sweet, I’m going to love devouring you, my little witch,” he cooed and growled loudly as he touched her between her thighs and felt her wet folds soak his fingers. “Oh love…you're dripping on my fingers, hell”

Y/N could barely understand what happened, when she realized she was kneeling and Carlos was under her, digging his fingers into her thighs and making the witch sit on his mouth.

Whatever she had felt before was nothing compared to the sensation of having Carlos' mouth in such a forbidden place. He licked her, sucked that sensitive spot that not even she knew about, Y/N trembled so much that she rested her hands on his hard chest and moved her hips involuntarily.

“By a thousand demons” he grunted, moving as little away from her as possible, still eating her pussy hungrily. “Keep it up, little witch,” he ordered, tightening his fingers on her legs.

She lost her stability and fell when Carlos scraped his teeth on that same previously unknown spot, causing a stronger tremor than before, she felt a knot forming in her stomach.

Carlos didn't stop until she was completely dismantled, she was shaking and moaning in such a delicious, attractive way, Carlos felt his cock hard to the point of hurting. He licked her a few more times until Y/N felt the knot violently come undone. Her moans diminished until they became mere whimpers; Carlos licked every drop of her essence.

From the moment he had tasted her, seen Y/N fall apart for him, he couldn't let her go, not when he found himself addicted to her annoying little witch.

She breathed deeply, tired and sleepy, but her conscience was very awake, throwing in her face that all that hatred was nothing more than incubated desire. She wanted Carlos, maybe she had wanted him since before the incident at the creek, maybe she had started to love him when she saw him come between her and her father, her people. There was no point in denying it.

Carlos handled her body with care and a certain amount of brutality, he continued biting and marking her skin, he wanted everyone to know that Y/N was his, even if she screamed that she wasn't.

She slowly opened her eyes, finding the golden irises in front of her, she hadn't even noticed that she was lying down again.

“Open your eyes, little witch,” he commanded, spreading her legs until she was exposed to him, spreading her soaked folds with his fingers, grunting at how wet she was.“I want you to watch me eat you, as I fuck you until you accept that you are mine... And you will, love... I will make you scream it”

He slowly inserted his fingers into her tight hole, enjoying her resistance to receiving his fingers.

“Relax, little witch,” he ordered, bringing his other hand to her clitoris. Y/N opened her eyes desperately and grabbed his hands. He sank his fingers even deeper, making her sigh. “That's right love, relax for me” he kissed her.

Deep down, she had actually expected more violence, more brutality from the werewolf, but she was willing to worship it completely.

“Carlos...” Y/N moaned, and moved her hips against his hand, wanting more than he was willing to give and well, he would give her everything. “Please.”

“Alright, alright little witch.” He pushed her fingers in again, and she cried out, digging her nails into him. “What do you want, my witch?”

She felt the tears burning at her eye line, that knotted feeling was growing again and Carlos didn't stop, the werewolf accelerated, her inner walls squeezing him in the best way possible.

He trembled just thinking that in a few minutes, his cock would be crushed there. He leaned over her, licking Y/N's tears. "Tell me how you feel, love, tell me.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, her eyes closed tightly and she tried to think, but all her mind could think about were those fingers going in and out of her, the thumb massaging her. By the Goddess, she was about to explode, Carlos handled her body like dough, drawing out reactions from her that he never thought he would know.

He continued licking her skin, trying to absorb more of her taste, smelling her, Carlos felt the scent of lavender and lemon gain darker, more intense hues. Slowly his scent seeped into Y/N's skin, marking her as his.

“Carlos!”

“Yes, little witch?”

“P-Please”

“Of course, little witch,” he said, slowly opening his fingers inside her, her untouched muscles clenching against him. Her knot came undone again, and if she hadn’t been on the floor, Y/N would have collapsed hard. He gave her a few more kisses on the mouth, humming at how slowly she responded to the kiss. “Open your eyes and look at me, little witch, I want to see those pretty eyes while I fuck you, while I watch you come undone on my cock...”

The werewolf's eyes flickered between brown and gold, his nails grew a little, sinking into her flesh, drawing a hiss of pain that didn't move him. Carlos held his cock by the base, His hard cock was completely slick with precum, he pumped it a few times, panting roughly before rubbing the irritated head against her wet folds. “Quiet, very quiet.” he ordered hoarsely, man and creature interconnected by the intention of venerating their companion's body as if she were a saint, a sacred presence. “I'll make it hurt just once, little witch, and then...” he licked her mouth with desire, staring into the witch's cloudy eyes "then I will make you explode with pleasure, my witch"

He pushed himself against her, hitting the bottom of Y/N's pussy. She screamed, bursting into tears, it felt like Carlos was ripping her apart, he held still until she stopped whimpering and dig your nails into his shoulders.

“F-Fucking perfect,” he grunted, holding her waist. “So good.”

When her body got used to that invasion, Y/N undulated her hips, moaning at the act, because she could feel Carlos completely inside her. Very slowly, Carlos moved away from her until only his fat head remained, embraced by the girl's pussy. She tried to make him come back, but he remained still, enjoying the spasms and the grip she had around him. And then he pushed back in hard, making her scream.

“Carlos!”

So he began a punishing rhythm against her, slow enough to make her eager and hard enough to draw out those cute little screams. The wet sound of their hips slapping together, of her moans, of his grunts was obscene, dirty and tempting, dragging the young girl into the limbo of her own pleasure. It looked the same as the ones Carlos had given him before, but it was so different.

She scratched the back of his neck hard enough to make him groan in pleasure. Y/N was squeezing him like a fist, and he knew he would cum soon. He couldn't take it anymore, not when she was better than any wet dream he'd ever had.

When his orgasm was about to happen, he licked the junction of her shoulder and her neck, so that at the height of her orgasm, Carlos sank his fangs in that very place, in that way, sealing the bond between the two. Carlos was the companion of a witch, and no force on Earth, in Heaven and even in hell could undo. Never.

Her eyes rolled back and Y/N's magic exploded like a supernova, the feel of Carlos' fangs on her skin making her orgasm stronger, more intense. She swore she could die right there and would accept death as a friend, but Carlos would never allow it.

Her emotions simplified and still in the lethargy of her orgasm, she felt another wave rising, drowning her senses and taking her deep, Carlos was about to cum too. His orgasm driving hers, taking her back to that limbo once again.

Thick strands of cum painted her insides, which still clenched around him. Carlos rested his forehead on hers, watching his little witch's eyes shine with her magic, Y/N shone and she noticed how the brown and gold mixed so well in his irises.

“I still hate you” she said tiredly.

“Well,” he kissed the corner of her mouth, that deep voice making it clear that the werewolf had not given in, “then I have no choice but to fuck that hate out of you, little witch… We still have a whole night ahead of us” he smiled evilly, slowly withdrawing inside her, watching his sperm leak out.

The witch gave an arrogant smile “you can try, mutt”

— ☽ —

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her until she was bent over, there was no more gentleness and care, only wild need and raw desire. She had bite marks on her shoulders, belly, waist, breasts and even her ass. She had moaned sweetly every time Carlos had pressed his teeth into her flesh. She moaned louder and louder every time his big palm hit her buttocks. The pure and untouched girl from hours ago was lost somewhere, giving way to the scandalous little witch; the werewolf loved every moan, every plea, he wanted her as addicted to him as he was to her.

"I-I c-can't take it anymore" she cried, resting her head on his shoulder, moaning when she felt Carlos kiss his mark on her shoulder.

“I said you would give me one more, and you will... You will give me everything I ask of you, little witch.”

She dug her nails into his thigh, enjoying every stroke his cock made inside her.

— ☽ —

He leaned against the edge of the natural pool, keeping himself close to his chest, since they finally got tired, Y/N remained quiet, receptive to his touch, of course, but introspective. And that wasn't the reaction he wanted from her after what they did.

“What's bothering you, little witch?”

“You're a werewolf. I'm a witch…”

He pinched her cheeks, turning her lips into an adorable pout “Yes, and we belong to each other now, I will kill anyone who threatens you, whoever it is” and kissed her, releasing her cheeks.

He didn't need to hear it, he knew she thought the same. Not even the reflected feelings needed to show him that.

“I think I have no choice but to accept it, from what I'm seeing.”

“Smart little witch, she understood things correctly” he said and began to wash her body, appreciating the marks spread across Y/N, everyone would know that they were definitely together and there was nothing to do.

And from that moment on, the pleasant silence that surrounded them was replaced by shouts calling for justice and Catholic prayers.

Villagers.

Neither of them were quite fit for it, her clothes were ruined and Carlos had none. But that wasn't important, one look between them was enough to understand what needed to be done. Carlos morphed into the big dark brown wolf and ran out of the cave, Y/N placed her hands on the ground, evoking the old magic that allowed her to access the powers of her ancestors, she needed to protect that land, protect the people who lived in the forest and mainly, protect Carlos.

It didn't take long for the souls of those who had died lost among the trees to respond to his call. It didn't take long, Y/N just pointed and the wandering specters headed towards the invaders. The smell of grass and burning flesh reached her nose, making her mourn for the fauna that was dying due to human ignorance, The screams of hatred were replaced by dread and fear. If the humans wanted to fear her, Y/N decided to give them a reason.

A little over half an hour later, Carlos returned to the cave, there was blood on his fur and a piece of arm in his mouth, he looked fearsome like a hellhound, ready to drag any unfortunate soul to the depths of the underworld.

Not caring about her nakedness or the blood on him, Y/N hugged the wolf, grateful that he had returned safe and sound; it wasn't long before she felt strong, possessive arms around her.

“I almost didn't have to kill them, you managed to scare them to death with those specters" he laughed.

“Well... It was just a little trick...” she shrugged.

“They’ll be back,” Carlos said and she knew it.

“Then let's kill them before that, they call us monsters and demons, it's time we do justice to the name” she said, looking at him seriously, but received a smile from him, a cruelly excited smile.

“You are a cunning, wicked little thing, little witch,” he cupped her face in his hands, “and that makes me want you again and again.”

She didn't even respond, she just offered her lips to him, which he gladly accepted.

#f1 imagine #f1 #sawturn #spotify #formula 1 smut #carlos sainz x reader #werewolf x witch #werewolf!carlos #werewolf

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strawbeerossi · 1 year

Text

Just Know, I Love You

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Reader hasn't been her usual self after a breakup months prior. Spencer takes notice of this, using her love of Valentine's Day and his own plans to try and bring a smile to her face while telling her how much he cares about her.

Content Warnings: Nothing bad, tooth rotting fluff, Spencer being sweet, pining, admitting feelings, ends with a kiss 🩷

Word Count: 1.1K

This blurb is my most favorite thing that I have ever written. Enjoy this little blurb that I thought of today on my lunch break.

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“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope." Maya Angelou

Spencer was never one for romance, mainly because he wasn't the type to have women falling over each other to get to him. He would admit that he didn't have a clue on what he would do anyway. He wasn't going to trouble himself with those thoughts for any hypothetical relationship.

Y/N was a great exception to his rule though.

It was a few months ago that she and her boyfriend ended up breaking up. Spencer could recall her coming into the office looking purely broken and exhausted. From what she had told him, they were doing well.

They were even looking for houses, he remembered. However, things came crashing down on Y/N's world when she was made aware that her boyfriend was cheating on her the entire course of their relationship.

Now, personally, Spencer didn't even understand how anyone could ever think of finding anyone else when they had her. She was the whole package; a good sense of humor, kind, a beautiful smile, and the best laugh that he'd ever heard. One that he missed terribly.

Y/N used to come in with a big smile on her face every morning, bringing coffee for Spencer because those two liked more sugar than the bitter black coffee that they would see Hotch or Rossi drink. They would joke about how they had to have had sugar packets hidden in their offices, maybe even hidden creamer and other things.

Valentine's Day was coming up, it usually being one of Y/N's favorite holidays. She was a hopeless romantic, loving the idea of a whole dedicated to nothing but love and appreciation.However with a sour view of love, she wasn't as upbeat as she was.

He noticed her all week, quietly moping around the office. It killed him inside. Spencer even asked if she wanted to decorate the office with him, something she usually would've been way too eager to do. This time though, he was met with glassed over eyes, a sad smile that even had a little bit of a lip quiver, and the assurance that the day was just any other.

That killed him more than anything. She was hurting to the point where she was avoiding the day entirely.

Spencer had a plan. So, the morning of Valentine's Day, he was picking them up an overly sugary coffee, stopping to get a red velvet cupcake from one of the bakeries in town, then Spencer even stopped to pick up a bouquet of yellow roses. the night before, he was racking over all the ideas in his mind for what he'd write on the little card attached to the flowers, he still had time to write something up.

When he made it to the office, he was letting out a sigh of relief when he realized Y/N wasn't at her desk just yet. He hoped she wasn't going to try and pull off a sick day, mainly because his whole goal was to make this a Valentine's Day that she'd never forget.

After the flowers, the coffee cup that was elegantly decorated for the holiday, and the cupcake box that was wrapped in a beautiful satin red bow were placed in an aesthetically pleasing set up, he was sitting at his desk while doing his best to quickly write down the note that he hoped wouldn't be overly sappy.

Boy, Penelope was gonna be so proud of him for this set up, she'd definitely approve.

Even if Y/N wasn't there yet, the rest of the team was. Emily watched in amusement, a smile on her face as she leaned back against her chair. "You know that you are really gonna brighten up her whole year, right?" She asked, making the youngest on the team peek up from his writing.

He felt a rush of pride run through him, his cheeks and ears starting to get hot from his blushing over the thought of seeing that beautiful smile spread across his coworker's face again. "You think so? I really hope she does. I like her a lot.. I just want her to see that she still deserves to feel appreciated." He rambled on while keeping his gaze on the card.

"Pretty boy, I'm almost jealous." Derek commented, ruffling Spencer's hair while looking over the spread with a chuckle. "You gotta give me tips, kid." He was teasing, though he felt like a proud big brother watching his younger sibling make his own moves.

By the grace of god, Spencer had placed the card on the flowers as soon as Y/N was making her appearance into the bullpen. Like Spencer suspected, she looked like she just didn't wanna be there.

However, her whole demeanor changed as she approached the desk, her eyebrows raising in curiosity. "What's all this?" She asked, looking to the coworkers who were close by. "No idea, mama. I seen all of that sitting on your desk when I got in this morning." Derek commented, a smile on his face as he was leaning against the edge of the desk. "There should be a card." Emily also commented, the two making a point to hang around the desk just a little longer.

Which Y/N had already had a small smile on her face from the surprise, as soon as she picked up that card though, her smile was growing wider, the appreciative tears already starting to burn her eyes.

'We both know I don't know how to do stuff like this. So I am gonna leave you with a quote that means a lot to me, almost as much as the amount that you mean to me,

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." - William Shakespeare.

I hope you know that no matter what you may be going through, I'll always be here for you.

Just so you know, I love you. -Spencer.'

The note really tied the whole ensemble together, Spencer turning in his chair as she began to read the note allowed, a smile on his face. He felt so proud of himself for pulling this off, especially after feeling like he was going to royally mess it up at some points while planning.

"Thank you." Y/N smiled, her gaze now on her best friend in the office while she was heading over to wrap her arms around Spencer with a tight hug, making Spencer hold her just as tight.

"Although.. I do have one thing to say." She spoke while pulling from the hug. The words made Spencer's heart fall into his stomach.

What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if this is weird? Oh god, what if-

His thoughts were coming to a screeching halt when he felt a pair of soft lips against his own.

Oh.

"Just so you know, I love you so much more."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff

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specialagentlokitty · 8 months

Text

Rick Grimes x sister!reader - my family

omg im so happy you're writing for rick and daryl! Could i request a Rick x sister!reader where they weren't together when the infection started and thought that the other had died but she's found by someone from the group and taken to alexandria? - Anon 💜

A/N: due to the fact I’m on season 2 we’ve changed it a bit :))

You weren’t sure how long you had been running, and you were scared to stop running.

You were exhausted, you had the worst pain in your ribs and nasty cut down your arm that by some miracle hadn’t gotten infected.

You were scavenging whatever you could, food, medicine, bandages, a few bottles of water that you were trying to make last.

You learned the hard way you had to go for the head, so you kept a few knifes at hand, trading them in when you found something better.

You were in a forest, abundant with sticks, and that’s what you made use off, sharpening the largest and strongest ones, always keeping a couple tucked under the straps of your bags just in case one broke.

You hadn’t seen any other living people, and as much as you wanted to try and find your family you didn’t want to risk them being one of those creatures, you couldn’t bare that thought, so you kept running to keep yourself safe.

If they were alive you would find them somewhere, they had to be alive.

Sitting on a large rock, you were taking a small break, making sure to keep on eye on everything around you.

You heard a noise and you picked up your stick, spinning around only to find a crossbow pointed at you and you looked at the owner in fear.

“Please don’t kill me…”

“Your arm, you been bit?”

You quickly shook your head, putting the power bar your were eating in your mouth and unwrapped the old bandage with your free hand, showing him the jagged wound.

You took the food out your mouth and looked at him.

“Cut myself on some glass escaping those things, that’s all. It’s not healed right though, still bleeds.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand up so he could look at it.

Then he threw your arm back at you.

“The fuck you doing out here?”

“If I had to take a guess, probably the same as you. Running, ran from the city.”

“Atlanta?”

You nodded.

“I lived there, saw what was happened, made a break the moment I could, knew a refugee sight wouldn’t hold long.”

“Can’t tell if you’re smart or stupid.”

You shrugged a little, holding your food out to him.

He rose a brow in question, and you made a gesture for him to go ahead and take it.

“I got more.”

“Well I sure as hell don’t want no half eaten one dumbass, what else you got?”

You laughed a little, and opened your bag, pulling out another one for him, and he took it without thanks, and you zipped your bag up.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“You tell me first.”

“(Y/N).”

“Daryl.”

He looked around, and you did the same thing.

“Foods hard to come by now, why’d you share?”

“My brother always said I was too kind for my own good, I guess that was right. But we’re all in the same shit world, gotta make sure the ones alive stay alive.”

“Your stupid, that’s gonna get you killed pretty fast out here.”

You rolled your eyes, and you put your bag back on your back, grabbing your weapon and jumped down from the rock.

You smiled up at him.

“See you around I guess Daryl. Oh, and here.”

Looking through your pockets, you pulled out a few more power bars you held them out and he jumped down, taking them from you.

You began to walk away.

“Hey, hey wait a second, where you going?”

“I don’t know, just… just somewhere I guess.”

He nodded his head and walked over, he looked you up and down.

“Come on.”

He walked the opposite direction and you looked at him in pure confusion.

“Well hurry up, I ain’t getting myself fuckin’ killed because your dumbass is still standing there.”

Jogging over, you walked alongside of him, and he picked up something from a tree, which held a few small dead animals.

You didn’t say anything about it, knowing you had to do what you needed in order to survive these days.

Neither of you said anything, he didn’t exactly strike you as a bug conversationalist, and you didn’t want him to change his mind about you coming.

Maybe in days long gone you would’ve thought twice about following a stranger, but no you didn’t have those luxuries, he could’ve killed you before you realised he was there, and he didn’t.

In order to survive you needed company, you couldn’t do it on your own, and you wouldn’t be able to keep going along for much longer you knew that.

He led you back to a camp, with other people, and you raised your weapon.

“Put the damn stick down moron.”

“I don’t know if they’re safe.”

“Then why the fuck would you follow me?”

He snatched the stick from you, pushed you back a few steps and you winced, covering your ribs with a pained groan.

“Because I can’t make it on my own asshole.”

“Wait here.”

You nodded, slowly sitting down next to a beat down truck, and watched as he went to go talk to others.

Being able to sit down your pain finally caught up with you, and you passed out from exhaustion and pain.

When you came too again, you were on a bed, somebody holding your hand and you turned your head.

“Lori…?”

She looked up.

“(Y/N)?! Oh god you’re alive, wait here!”

She got up, running out and not even a few seconds later she came back with more people.

The boy jumped on the bed, and you groaned a little bit laughed as you wrapped your arm around him.

“Carl.. hey buddy.. hey…”

“You’re alive…” he sobbed.

“Yeah bud, I won’t let a few suckers bring me down.”

“Carl come on, let’s wait outside.”

Lori introduced you to Carol, and Carol looked you over.

“Dale thinks you’ve probably bruised a couple of ribs, nothing too bad. But your arm we don’t have the medicine for that.” Carol said.

You slowly sat up, swinging your legs over the bed.

“I do, my bag.”

Lori handed it over and you tipped everything out, showing a few bottles of antibiotics.

“Grabbed what I could when I saw the chance.”

“These will work, keep taking them a few times a day.” Lori said.

You nodded and looked out the window.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to everybody, you can stay with me and Carl, and I know Shane wants to see you.”

“Shane? And.. and Rick…?”

Lori looked at you, and you clenched your jaw.

“Lori.. where’s my brother…?”

“Ask Shane…”

You pushed yourself up, moving past her and out of the RV.

You looked around and found Shane, and you made your way over, holding your hand out as he went to hug you.

“Shane where the fuck is my brother? Where’s Rick?”

“He.. (Y/N) he was.. he was shot before all of this… I.. I tried to save him but I.. he was dead…”

Tears burned your eyes and you shook your head.

“He’s not dead…”

“I’m sorry…”

“No… no Shane my brother ain’t dead, you hear me!? He ain’t dead!”

You dropped to your knees despite the pain, and you rested your head on the ground.

“He.. he’s not dead…”

Lori knelt next to you, hugging you tightly as you mourned the loss of your brother.

You didn’t leave the tent for days, you stayed in there, refusing to talk to anybody, refusing to leave.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up at Carl, and he walked over, sitting next to you, resting his head on your side.

“Do you think my dad could still be out there…?”

“Yeah… he.. he has to be bud…”

He nodded his head, and you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing his quiet cries.

You stared to move around after a week, but you still needed time to rest and fully heal so you couldn’t go on runs or help with much, but you watched the children for everybody.

Carl mostly kept to your side if he wasn’t with his mom.

“I’m cold.” Sophia said.

“Alright, wait here I’ve got a spare blanket in my bag.”

You made your way back to you sister in laws tent, and you stepped in only to freeze at the sight of your sister in law making out with your brothers best friend.

They quickly pulled apart and you grabbed your blanket.

“(Y/N)…” Lori whispered.

“Didn’t take you all that long to get over him huh?”

“No.. not its.. it’s not like that..”

You shook your head.

“I’ll find somewhere else to sleep, and both of you better stay the fuck away from me.”

You left, making your way back to the little girl and you wrapped her up in your blanket.

Going back to the now empty tent, you grabbed your things and set them down by a fire.

“Are you leaving?” Carl asked sadly.

“Nah buddy, I’m staying, I just want somewhere else to sleep for a while cause you snore so loudly.”

He hit your arm and you laughed a little at him.

You didn’t want to share a tent with anybody else, so as they all went to bed you stayed by the embers of the fire.

“Ain’t gonna help much if you die of cold or exhaustion.”

You glanced up, and you shrugged a little.

“Rather not stay in the same tent as my sister in law right now.”

Daryl looked at you, he knew what was going on of course.

He didn’t speak much but he saw a lot, so he knew why you didn’t want to stay in the tent with her.

“Get your shit.”

You looked at him.

“Let’s go.”

You pushed yourself up, and you followed him to his tent where he kicked some stuff aside, gesturing with his hand down the middle.

“You stay on your half, I stay on mine. I ain’t sharing my shit with you though.”

“Deal.”

You sat down, putting your bag under your head and he sat down on his stuff, sharpening a few sticks.

“Hey Daryl?”

“Shut up.”

You laughed again.

“Thanks.”

He said nothing in response.

After a few minutes you felt something hit you in the face and you looked at the sweater in confusion but all he did was get up and leave.

You didn’t want to speak to Lori or Shane, if you wanted peace you would stay in Daryl’s tent knowing that nobody dared to go near it.

“Come on, we’re going to have to talk about what happened!” Shane hissed.

“Get lost!”

“She’s your sister! You can’t just ignore her! She’s beating herself up because you won’t speak to her (Y/N)!”

“Well she should’ve thought about that before cheating on my brother!”

You stormed past Shane and he grabbed your wrist making you wince in pain.

He let go, and was shoved back, and Daryl pushed you towards the tent.

You looked at him but said nothing as you made your way there and Shane left you alone.

“Just break his nose, shuts every guy up.”

“Rather let him suffer knowing he’s the reason I won’t speak to him or her.”

Daryl half shrugged.

“Whatever then, I’m going huntin’. Stay in the tent.”

You nodded and he left.

You decided to take a nap, having sleepless nights made keeping a level head hard, it was easier to sleep knowing that there wasn’t many walkers during the day.

What woke you up was the commotion, and you got up, grabbing your weapon, hand on your ribs as you walked up to the main camp.

You heard Daryl shouting.

“Daryl?! Hey! What’s going on?!”

He pushed himself away from the people, and he looked at you.

“Those fuckers left my brother to die!”

You placed a hand on his chest.

“Then we go find him, alright? Get your stuff, you and me, we’ll go get him. Okay?”

“You can’t go out there asshole, you’re hurt.”

“I don’t give a fuck, he’s your brother. We’ll get him back.”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder and followed him down to his tent to help get everything ready.

Steps came closer and he grabbed his weapon.

“Are you in there?” Lori asked softly.

“What the fuck do you want?” You snapped.

“Come outside, please?”

Sighing, you put your knife down and got up, making your way over to the front of the tent and stepped out.

You looked at her, then your gaze snapped behind her.

“Oh thank god…”

Rick rushed over, pulling you into a hug and you yelped in pain, dropping to your knees.

He quickly dropped in front of you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, are you alright? Are you okay?”

“Bruised ribs…”

He nodded, pulling you in for a more gentle hug this time, and you hugged him back, tears streaming down your face.

“You’re alive…” you whispered.

“Course I am….” He whispered back.

Rick held you closely, not wanting to let you go.

It was one thing thinking he lost his wife and son, but he couldn’t bare the thought of loosing his little sister as well.

He placed his hand on the back of your head, trying to hide the fact he was crying.

“I got you… I’ve got you… it’s alright…” he whispered.

“They… they told me you died Rick…”

He pulled away, smiling at you.

“I’m alright, you see? A little worse for wear but I’m alright, we’re safe…”

You nodded, sniffling a little, you clasped your hand tightly around his, and he held back just as tight.

“Whatever goes on now, we go through it together, like when we was kids, yeah?” He asked.

“Us against whatever crap life throws…”

He nodded, giving you smile.

“Yeah.. yeah exactly…”

He looked at you, and he pulled you in for another hug, and you glared at his wife from behind his back and she slowly walked away.

You weren’t going to tell him what you saw, he was safe, and you weren’t going to do anything to put your brother in danger.

You pulled back and looking at your brother again.

“You smell like shit Rick…”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

“Well thanks, I missed you too.”

#the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Rick grimes #Rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #Rick grimes imagine

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