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#and she can tell there's a lot below the surface
apomaro-mellow · 2 days
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King and Prince 33
Part 32
A kiss had never driven Steve so crazy. Never in his life had he ever spent so long thinking about something as simply as a kiss. But it wasn’t just one kiss, was it? For one thing, there had been several until they’d been interrupted by the children. And for another, each one had felt more meaningful than the last. More heated too. Eddie had rushed them back to the castle like he couldn’t wait to get Steve in bed.
They never did find out what the boys had been doing out so late, but maybe that was for the better. The heat of summer was getting to them all and so it was planned to have an outing at Lover’s Lake. Typically a royal going onto an outing like this meant the entire court coming along. It meant several carriages and even more servants to wait on them hand and foot.
But Steve should have known that Eddie wouldn’t put on any airs like that; that he was the type to choose only the bare essentials. So the lot of them piled up into a wagon, a couple of baskets of food, snacks, and refreshments to tithe them over until they returned to the castle.
“Why is it called Lover’s Lake anyway?”, Steve asked.
“Because legend tells of two loves who couldn’t be together, so they drowned themselves to be with each other”, Dustin said with a ghastly smile.
“That’s not the story”, Lucas argued. “Two lovers came from the lake. One made of moss, the other of water.”
“I heard two people were so in love, their passion created the lake”, Robin said.
“I was always told it was a bunch of people”, Will said. “Not just two.”
“Stories can change over time”, Eddie said from the front where he drove the horses. They got to the lake shortly after that. The surface glittered in the sunshine. And they weren’t the only ones enjoying the cool water. There were a couple of boats down the way, fishermen. Although it was clear even from a distance that they were doing so for leisure. The boys wasted no time tearing their shirts off and stripping down to their swimming shorts.
El and Max took their time, choosing instead to head off for a shady area under a tree. Steve couldn’t tell what they were doing, but it looked like serious business. Robin was already lounging with a nice, cool drink and Steve was about to join her when he saw Eddie heading for the water. He too had stripped down and Steve was struck by the fact that this was the first time he’d ever seen Eddie in a real state of undress. His chest, arms, and back were visible and they were covered in tattoos.
Most of his body seemed to be covered in black vines. They branched this way and that and at the end of each branch was something new and different. Steve was mesmerized. He didn’t realize that he was until Robin reached over with a stick and poked at his cheek.
“Sorry, I was trying to close that gaping hole in your face.”
Steve glared at her but he didn’t know what he was more perturbed by - her making fun of him or her interrupting his staring.
“I was also trying to wipe the drool off.”
“With a stick?”, Steve asked, trying to wipe his face without being obvious.
“I’m not touching your drool with my bare hands.”
Steve rolled his eyes and went back to watching Eddie as he went into the water. His skin was pale under the sunlight and Steve worried he might burn if he was out for too long. Was he like the demobeasts in that regard? He must have better tolerance, able to even be in the light at the height of summer at all while the others hibernated in dark caves.
He watched as Eddie dipped below the surface and then came back up, his hair draped over his face. He used his hands to brush it back and damn, Steve might actually be drooling now. 
“He’s…”, Steve trailed off, not having the words.
“I can’t believe our king has reduced you to speechlessness. In a good way”, Robin said. She looked up to view Eddie and only saw a wet dog where Steve saw beauty and power.
Finally, Steve couldn’t take it anymore and he prepared to take to the water. Will was distracting Mike when Lucas dunked him in the lake. Immediately after, Dustin breached to knock Lucas off balance. Eddie was wading at a distance, making sure they didn’t get too wild, when he noticed Steve stepping in from the shore.
Immediately, Eddie’s mouth got dry, watching Steve enter like something from his dreams. He didn’t wade through the water so much as the lake caressed his body. Before he knew it, he was moving towards the prince.
“Hey there”, Steve smiled.
“Hello, little prince”, Eddie smiled right back as they got nearly chest to chest. 
Steve’s hands found his under the water and Eddie brought them up out of it to kiss both sets of knuckles. For a moment, the screeching of children at play were distant. They didn’t even notice El and Max diving in with a splash. All they could see were each other’s eyes and the droplets of water shining on them both. 
“Can I tell you something?”, Steve whispered in the small space between them.
“Anything, always”, Eddie’s voice was soft, not wanting to break the moment.
“I’m still thinking about our kiss, from that night.”
“As if I could ever forget. My dreams are sewn with the sweetness of you. It permeates my every thought. If I could go without breathing, I would, just to keep your lips on mine.”
“You don’t know what your words do to me”, Steve ducked his head. “When you talk it’s like…it’s as if you take my words away from me just to return them.”
Eddie’s hand came up to grip the back of his neck, “If that is the truth, then I should give them all back. For I am no thief.”
Their foreheads came together and Steve blinked, taking just a second to savor him. And also to glance around and remind himself of their surroundings.
“What are you thinking about, my joy?”
“I am thinking of the fact that we must have eyes on us.”
“Then let them bear witness to our affections.”
“Hey! We can and will douse you with water!”, Mike reminded from afar.
Eddie snickered, letting his hands move up from Steve’s neck to further up into his scalp. “Sounds like they’re warning us off.”
“It sounds to me like they’re itching to splash us anyway. So it wouldn’t make a different whether you kissed me or not.”
Eddie’s eyes got bright. “Oh it makes a difference to me.”
When they kissed this time, they knew it would only be a second before they were interrupted and sure enough, water hit the side of Eddie’s face, getting Steve in the crossfire. It was still one of the sweetest kisses Steve had ever received. He and Eddie retreated to the shore, where those tattoos were brought to his attention again.
“That’s quite the mural”, Steve said, looking them over again. He could see a paintbrush, a sword, a book, and several other things that almost seemed like charms on his body. 
“Each one is for someone in my life”, Eddie admitted. 
Steve looked over all that he could see, wondering who was who. And also wondering how long until he found a space on Eddie’s skin and what he would be illustrated as. They returned to the castle hours later, children hanging on by a thread and ready to collapse from swimming all day. Steve was right alongside them, eyelids getting heavy. Eddie took it upon himself to carry Steve up to his room, even laying him in his bed.
He left the prince with just a kiss on the forehead and then the door separated them as he stood in the hall. He gave a heavy sigh and leaned heavily against the door, which was how Jeff found him.
“How goes the courtship?”, his friend asked.
Eddie gave him a long look. “I have to marry him before the year’s end.”
Part 34 coming soon
Taglist CLOSED
@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 
@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 
@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 
@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 
@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 
@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug
@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve
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mitskijamie · 7 months
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What would jamie in therapy look like?
Jamie really enjoys talking about things he likes and is interested in, and he's drawn to therapy by the idea that he would have someone to talk at about his day-to-day woes, so I think his first couple of sessions would mostly just be him talking about football and complaining about the problems he's having at Richmond (ie everyone hating him.)
Sharon suggests trying to show his teammates that he's sorry and open to changing through day-to-day actions instead of words/gifts, and it totally works, which builds a good rapport and makes him more willing to open up
After a few sessions of successfully working through some of the surface-level issues he has with the team and Roy and all that, Jamie feels more comfortable with Sharon and mentions that he's nervous about playing City in the semi-finals. And of course she's like "that's understandable, the stakes are high" and whatnot but he's like "no, I'm nervous because my dad will be there, and he's going to be a dick."
So they start scratching the surface of the abuse and enmeshment and setting boundaries and all that (very vaguely - "he's a prick," "he drinks," "he's on my ass all the time," "I take care of him," etc) which is where you get "I'd rather them not" and "Don't speak to me like that." But once Jamie's comfortable breeching the subject of his dad, it's like the floodgates open and they talk about his parents almost every day
They mostly talk about James and PTSD management, but they also talk a lot about Georgie and Simon, and sometimes Keeley and Roy and Ted
Jamie tells Sharon about the time James took him to Amsterdam as like. A positive memory, because his dad showed up for him and did something nice for him for once even if it "ended bad," and she honors his feelings about what happened but also tries to help him understand that what he experienced was rape & covert incest and shouldn't have happened
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KInda having some issues with something my friend said last night and i want to move past it but cant stop thinking about it
#so basically my friend who ive had since freshman year of hs said something on the phone that really doesnt sit right with me#shes gotten into christianity and she didnt grow up christian but she met some christian friends who have kind of gotten her into it#and she talks about it a lot#i dont know much about the actual church itself but it seems to me like theyre sort of pressuring her into it and dare i say...#...indoctrinating her#like i dont get it she was never particularly religious but now shes getting all serious about this stuff and how she doesnt want to go...#...to hell and wants to get baptized and all that stuff#shes also alluded to this churchs interpretation of scripture as not lgbt friendly#from what shes said it very much gives love the sinner hate the sin vibes#and the issue at hand here is that they believe that conversion is possible and necessary in order to live a life free of sin or something#at least this is what i get from what shes told me#and she was telling me about how people get baptized and say they arent gay anymore and i just said i dont believe that for a second#and she said well its true#and i told her that i believe these people SAY that they arent gay but theres no way they were actually converted its not possible#and explained basically that people can lie about their sexuality and often do out of pressure to perform heterosexuality#but tbh i was kinda thrown off so i dont think i was particularly well spoken in explaining and the examples i gave from my own life didnt.#...really illustrate what i was trying to say and i didnt do a great job of making that connection between my examples and the point i was.#...trying to prove#tbh i didnt think much of it at the time i just kind of moved on but today i cant stop thinking about it#its so frustrating to me how she just takes things at face value and doesnt think to look below the surface#ive been waiting for this whole christianity thing to run its course with her and at one point it seemed like she was done with it but...#...shes gone right back#and now shes telling my about considering becoming baptized and stuff#and how her parents dont approve and all that stuff#and im just like i feel like shes being lost to conservative christian ideology#even though she doesnt seem to recognize it as such#but like idk what to even say or how to confront her#she doesnt even know my sexuality and i dont want to out myself in explaining why these things from the church are harmful to me as her...#...friend#she knows im not straight i came out to her as asexual back in high school
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gojoest · 9 months
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COMPETITION — gojo satoru
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satoru tries to beat the bad cook allegations and win his girls back
girl dad satoru, established relationship — you’re married & have a daughter (oc), her name is sora, f! reader, reader is referred to as “mama”, mentions of food, this is a silly little thing, not proofread, wc: 1.2k
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satoru can be a lot of things — the strongest sorcerer, the most loving and devoted husband, the world’s greatest dad, society’s biggest menace, and according to some “the owner of the most annoying heh”  — but there’s one thing he most definitely isn’t. a good cook.
but ever since you had a family brunch gathering at nanami’s place where the latter had singlehandedly prepared a feast, without letting his wife lift a single finger even when it came to setting the table, satoru took it upon himself to prove that he can be as good of a cook as nanami, or even better.
the way you and your five-year-old daughter, sora, looked as if you’ve just tasted heaven while savoring each bite was a blow below the belt for satoru, while the finishing one was you complimenting nanami and telling his wife how she is the luckiest woman alive to have a husband who’s so skilled and willing in the kitchen because satoru can’t even boil water — to which sora nodded in agreement, “papa really sucks in the kitchen.”
it’s been two weeks ever since and you regret ever making that snarky remark about satoru’s incompetence because you’ve been banned from the kitchen all along, not even allowed to pour yourself a glass of water — all you have to do is ask and your husband will do it for you while you sit back and watch as the state of your kitchen worsens with each passing day.
he would occasionally have sora keep him company and help him prep the ingredients, sometimes even take the first bite if the end product looks edible, but for you the kitchen was completely off limits, he’s got a point to prove — that he is the best husband and you should’ve never said those flattering words about his friend in the first place because he can’t stand it when you acknowledge in any way any other man that isn’t him.
satoru’s determination is strong. he has no intention of letting this matter go, not until he sees that same expression on you and your daughter’s face — this is his life goal right now, he cannot have his two most important girls swayed by another man’s cooking, not even if that man is nanami (and especially because it’s him).
you might be running out of usable plates and pans, as they’re either broken or burnt, but satoru is definitely making progress. all the cooking videos he’s watched and the tips he’s gotten from talking to mothers on online forums are finally paying off because today, for the first time ever, he didn’t burn the pancakes for breakfast.
“papa”, sora looks with disapproving eyes at her dad, her cheeks squished between her tiny palms as she’s leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter.
“yes, my life”, satoru crouches down to her level. even though she’s standing on the toddler step stool her head can barely reach his hips. but whenever satoru talks to her, he always, without fail, either squats down or leans forward or holds her in his arms — because in those moments it’s just him and his little princess against the world, on equal footing always so he can hear her better and never miss a single expression she makes. “what’s with that look, hm?”, he nuzzles his flour covered nose against hers, the action itself causing some of the white particles to smudge on hers too.
“the pancakes look like pancakes this time but mama will not like this mess you made, again” — the sink is filled to the brim, there’s flour and baking powder on every single surface — counter, table, chairs, floor, the butter has started melting because satoru placed it too close to the stove after using some of it, there’s eggshells on the floor — any clean freak’s biggest nightmare.
“the mess i made?”, he gasps, “aren’t you an accomplice in this, little miss?”
“no”, she flatly denies, “i only watched you and broke the eggs”
“on the floor, that is”
“it’s because you said pick three eggs while i can only carry two, look—”, she stretches her tiny hands forward, palms facing up, to prove her point, “i have only two hands and they’re not big like yours, how am i supposed to hold the third one?”
satoru chuckles at her genuinely puzzled face, “you’re right, my life”, he replies through a soft smile after taking her hands into his and peppering kisses on the inside of each, “papa didn’t consider this”
“it’s okay, papa”, sora rests her forehead against her dad’s, “i am a big girl now, i will help you clean after breakfast”
“but you’ll always be my little girl no matter how old you get”, satoru whispers softly, lifting her up with just one arm so his free hand can gently caress the back of her head as she comfortably nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, “which is why papa will take care of it”
“but first”, he sits her on the countertop and cuts a small piece of the pancake for her to taste. “say aah”, he holds the fork to her mouth, eagerly observing every gesture on her face as she takes the bite and starts chewing. it’s definitely not the look she made while eating nanami’s cooking but she doesn’t seem to hate it either.
“papa.”
“yes, my life?”, satoru looks at her expectantly.
“can i be honest with you?”
“yes, of course you can”
“uncle nanamin does it better”, she admits to which satoru instantly deflates, “but—”
“but?”, a tiny spark of hope makes it back to his sulking eyes.
“i wouldn’t trade your pancakes for the world”
“YESSS”, satoru triumphantly pumps his fist in the air and spins around beaming with joy, “got one of my girls back on my team — now let’s hear your mother’s verdict… but hold on”, his face painted in concern again.
“hmm?”, sora questions the sudden change in his demeanor.
“sora.”, satoru speaks in a rather serious voice.
“papa?”
“you’re not saying this just because i’m your papa, right?”
“well, it’s partly because of it actually”, sora pauses for a second, trying to pick the right words before continuing, “but it’s because you put so much love and effort to make me and mama happy that it makes anything you do my favorite thing in the world, and i wouldn’t trade it for anything, papa”
“i haven’t tasted the pancakes yet but i must agree with sora on this”, your voice reaches them from behind as you stand leaning on the doorframe. you came following the sweet and warm aroma wafting through the air but found yourself accidentally eavesdropping on their little heart-to-heart talk. “you put your heart and soul for us always — aren’t we the luckiest girls in the world?”, you wink at sora and she nods.
satoru sighs in relief, “if i can’t give you the best of everything that means i am a failure both as a husband and as a father. because you two are my biggest blessing and i only live to make you happy. also — you’re still not allowed in the kitchen, so just stay there and wait for the pancakes.”
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rebelliousstories · 5 months
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Peachy
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: No
Warnings: Strong Language, Brief Violence, Suggestive Themes
Word Count: 1,785
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Part Two: Pretty as a Peach
Summary: Lucy gets a front row seat to the strange happenings in the Wasteland.
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It should be a crime for the day to be this hot. With the sun beating down, it felt like she was going to die rather imminently. But that Ghoul behind her back kept marching her forward whenever she tried to drop. It was not until they made it to some abandoned, two-story building, that the duo was finally able to be granted a moment’s reprieve.
“Sit down Vaultie.” The Ghoul demanded, leading the woman to sit against the worn out walls and dimpled stone. The cool rock felt blessed beneath her body. Even through her Vault-Tech suit insulated her against a lot of the extreme weather, enough was able to slip through for her to begin to cool down.
“That’s a girl. Stayin’ the night here, but I wouldn’ go wanderin’ after dark. A lotta things worse than a ghoul round here.” He spoke once more, starting to gather carve himself a little spot where he could rest.
“Where are we?” Lucy finally asked, voice rasped with dehydration and exhaustion. However, the man did not answer. He simply stretched out his long limbs, and placed his hat over his eyes in an attempt to get some sleep.
“Where are we?” She pleaded once more, to which the Ghoul was not sympathetic to.
“Hey!” Yelling now, the Ghoul picked his hat up from his eyes and set it back on his head while looking at the girl he held.
“Now, am I gonna have to cut out that tongue in order to get some peace and quiet?” Lucy was taken aback, and could not quite tell if he was joking or not. Taking his moment of silence, the man swept his hat over his eyes once more; but it did not last long. The clattering of something nearby caught the attention of the vault dweller, and surface dweller. With a heaving groan, the Ghoul stood back up, placed his hat on his head, and looked around. Lucy also tried to look, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary for the surface.
“Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time.” He muttered under his breath. Spurs clicked as he walked around and took inventory. But the clattering of a can behind him made the Ghoul pull his pistol and aim. There was nothing behind him, though. Lucy watched intently as the man surveyed his surroundings, and was just a beat too late to warn him about the shadowy figure to his back.
“Behind you!” The Ghoul did not have time to fire off a round. The figure jumped on his back, and locked on. He tried to swivel the creature off, but to no avail. Dropping to a knee, the Ghoul threw his assailant off of hm and on to the ground below. Whoever it was, they were fast. Reaching a leg up, the person managed to get him in a headlock with their legs, and rolled them around until they emerged on top. Pinning his hands down with both of theirs, the attacker shimmied out of the mask covering the bottom half of their face. It was a woman; a really pretty one at that.
“Hiya, Coop.” She teased, switching to a one handed hold on his wrists to snatch his hat off of his head. The piece of clothing was set upon her own head as a lazy smirk was pulled from his face.
“Well, if it ain’t my darling little peach.” He drawled. Once her other hand came down to rest on his wrists again, he switched their placements in the blink of an eye. Now, both of her wrists were in one of his, while his other came to rest behind her head. Cooper bucked the young woman up and off, spinning them around to pin her t the floor.
“Careful with that tone, Ghoul. Someone might think you missed me.” Once again, she was teasing. She spread her legs a little wider to accommodate him, and trailed one of them up to rest along his back. In turn, Cooper leaned down to get right up close to her face.
“Aww, we wouldn’t want that. Now would we, peaches?” A wicked smile decorated his face that she mirrored, and it seemed they were both trapped in their own little world for a time.
“How can you like him like that?” A high, feminine voice broke them free of their trance. Both Wastelanders looked over to the vault dweller with a mix of annoyance, confusion, and upset over being interrupted.
“Hope you’re not thinking of replacing me with that.” The woman, still pinned underneath the Ghoul, spoke. Her words did not sound as harsh as they should have; perhaps it was the smile that still plagued the woman’s face that offered her a softer edge that the usual surface dwellers Lucy had met thus far.
“Believe me, peach. Ain’t nothin’ able to replace you.” Cooper groaned out, letting the woman come to to sit and observe the woman before them.
“Ooo. You got yourself a Vaultie? You know how much they go for?” The woman asked, watching Lucy’s eyes widen in shock and horror. As much as she wanted to keep it going, the woman began laughing as she saw the expression on the vault dweller’s face.
“Nah, ‘m just messing with you. I ain’t got no clue how much y’all are worth. Probably a lot though. Whatcha doin’ travelin’ with this bag o’ bones?” Being friendly was confusing yet refreshing to Lucy, even as the mysterious woman remained tangled up in Cooper’s arms.
“Oh,” Lucy perked up, “well, I’m looking for my father. It’s a really long story but you are by far the nicest person I have met on the surface. My name is Lucy, and you are?” She rattled off, unable to contain her nerves or speech.
“Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve used my real name, I’ve nearly forgotten it. He calls me peach or some variation of it so-” squeaking out, the woman turned to see that Cooper had pinched her side hard in a warning.
“Okay. Not allowed to call me that then.” She supplied her real name afterwards, and saw the vault dweller before her visibly relax.
“Now that that’s out of the way, I bring gifts.” Untangling herself from the Ghoul, she made her way to where her bag was dropped. Lucy guessed that was what they heard falling before the ‘fight’ broke out. She pulled out a few cans of food, presumably, and tossed them to Cooper, however one of the cans was tossed towards Lucy. Reading the front of the label, she took not that it was a Vault-Tech brand of pie filling.
“Sugar, you shouldn’t have.” Cooper drawled, gratefully taking the jerky and chems that were provided.
“Well, figured you’d want a little gift for all your troubles.” Effortlessly, she just kept emptying her bags. Right when you think she is done, she would pull out more from the same place. It was, honestly, a wonder.
“One last thing. Just for us tonight.” Holding a can in her hands, she pulled a knife from her belt to begin cracking it open. The label was long since gone from it, but that didn’t stop them from eagerly tearing into it. Once she was close enough, she sat down and allowed Cooper to take it from her hands. He finished the job of getting the lid off of the can, and let delight take over his scarred features.
“Now, where’d you find this, peach?” He asked, letting her tuck herself under his arm to get closer.
“Trader I went to had a whole shipment of them Georgia. Well, what’s left of it. Anyways, you should be thankful I managed to get some. That one can cost me two hundred and fifty caps.” While his eyes did not bug out of his skull, his brow area did raise considerably when he heard the price.
“Careful, peach. Someone might think you like me.” Cooper stabbed a thick, juicy slice and brought it up to the woman’s lips to let her take a bite off, before bringing the other half of the slice to his own lips. A sinful groan was released from the both of them as they allowed the sugary sweet fruit to explode. It was a taste that Cooper was not sure if he would ever taste again after the bombs destroyed the world as he knew it.
“Is that peach? Is that what it’s supposed to taste like?” She asked, hoping sh had gotten it right. The Ghoul stabbed yet another slice and repeated the process from before as he watched the woman intensely.
“Yep. That is the sweet taste of peach, alright.” With how he was staring at her, the woman was not sure that he was talking about the fruit anymore. They continued to swap the fruit back and forth as they finished the can. When it got down to the juices, she pushed the can closer to him, encouraging him to take the drink. And he did; but that was not the end of it. As he drank down the last gulp of juices from the can, Cooper grabbed her chin, pressed his lips to hers, and pushed some of the liquid into her mouth instead. She chased the taste on his lips once she had taken her drink, and let herself get lost in the moment. He pawed at the layers covering her body, but the sound of Lucy finishing her can brought them out.
“I don’t feel like having an audience tonight, cowpoke.” She whispered, breathless, against his face. The hat was still set atop her head, and it was not going to be leaving anytime soon. A yawn tore through the woman in his arms, before being caught by Lucy against the stone.
“Really startin’ to get pissed at this Vaultie, peaches.” He whispered back, pressing another kiss to her lips, before returning to their previous position.
“Get some shut eye. We leave at day break.” Cooper said with a definitive tone, leaning his head back against the wall in an effort to sleep. The woman below him cuddled herself into his chest and drifted off to sleep without a worry of being attacked in her sleep. Lucy was the last one to close her eyes, but not the last one to fall asleep. Her mind raced with questions she wished she could ask, but thought better of not asking. Hoping that the mystery woman was there in the morning, the vault dweller and surface dwellers found themselves in the land of dreams before long, hoping and trying to survive till the next sunset.
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yourlocalmerchgirl · 4 months
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Hopeful
Soft! Jackson Joel Miller x Neurodivergant/ ADHD F!reader
Summary: Joel hasn't felt hopeful since before the outbreak, that is before he meets you when he arrives in Jackson. Hes falling for you, but you couldn't possible fee the same way, could you?
Soft! Jackson Joel miller x Neurodivergant\ ADHD reader AU
MDNI 18+ NSFW
Warnings: unspecified age gap (i wrote this with reader in her early 30s and Joel in is early 50s but no ages are specifically said) soft Joel, concerned Joel, protective Joel, Neurodivergant, audio overstimulation, anxiety. He falls first. Match maker Ellie. Smut. Oral (F! receiving) Fingering, heavy make out sessions. Joel's chatty. body imagine issues, low self-esteem. Swearing, dirty talk. Praise.
A/N: Man this story really got away from me! what i thought would be a short story turned out to be rather length but im proud as hell of this story and i hope you enjoy!
There’s not a lot of descriptors about reader other than eye color and mentions of curves/ plush but they can easily be changed.
Hopeful.
Hopeful wasn’t something Joel felt since before the outbreak. But when he met you, it started brewing slow and low just below the surface until he couldn’t deny it anymore, couldn’t push it away any longer. You made him feel hopeful.
“Dude if you stare much longer the whole town is gonna notice.” Ellie teases as she jabs Joel with her elbow.
“Oh stop it, I wasn’t staring”
“You’ve been looking at her for like 10 minutes, just go sit with her”
Joel turns away quickly feeling his face getting red. He thought he was doing a better job of keeping his fondness for you hidden. He figured there was no way you’d share the same feelings, why would you like a guy like him? Old, beat up, and someone the whole town talked about. He figured there just wasn’t any way.
“She don’t want me bothering her” Joel shrugs
“Im not lying when I say she asks about you when you haven’t been to the stables yet.”
A slight smile tugs at Joel’s lips, he always asks Ellie about you too.
“Go sit with her”Ellie nudges him
Joel let’s out a nervous sigh and makes his way over to your table.
You’re fully engrossed in your book that you don’t notice Joel standing there for a moment.
“Is this seat taken darlin’?”
You don’t even have to look to know it’s Joel, you’d know his voice anywhere.
You chuckle, looking up at him with that smile and those big beautiful hazel eyes he loved so much.
“What’s funny?”
“Unless Ellie and Dina are sitting with me, that seats never taken”
Joel frowns at your comment.
“You want some company? It ok if I sit?”
“I’d love some” you say trying not too seem to eager but your bursting with butterflies over Joel wanting to sit with you. Your smile happens automatically, like it always does with Joel.
You’d been fond of Joel since him and Ellie arrived in Jackson. Despite all the whispers about him in town, his presence always calmed you in a way nobody ever had, you couldn’t explain it even if you tried. You absolutely adored Ellie from the moment you met her, Joel always telling you she trusts you in a way he’s never seen before.
The two of you fall into comfortable small talk as you both finish breakfast.
“Didn’t see you at the town dance last night”
“That’s because I didn’t go, you went?”
“Well Ellie and Dina wanted to go cause they’re always reading about dances in the diaries they find, so I went too. Plus Ellie’s always teasin’ me that I need to get out more”
“I don’t normally go to stuff like that, I’m too awkward and I don’t want people asking me to dance because they feel bad.”
“Now I’m sure there would be lots of people who’d like to dance with you” Joel has all he can do not to tell you he’d show up to dance with you everytime if he knew you’d be there.
“That’s really kind of you to say, but incase you haven’t noticed the people here don’t really know how to take me.”
“You headin to the stables?” Joel already knows the answer. He knows it’s not your day to work at the stables but he asks anyways because he doesn’t want the conversation to end.
“ No, today I’m working on getting the little town library set up, now that you and Tommy are finished building the shelves, I’d like to open it soon.”
“Y’need any help? I’m off my normal duties today”
“Oh no, it’s ok. You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to bother you on your free time”
“It’s really no trouble at all, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to help” Joel’s jokes, smiling at you.
Your laugh.
He’d give anything to hear your laugh over and over again.
“And I guess I wouldn’t accept if I didn’t want help and company” you teased back, trying to stifle the giggle that bubbles up.
She wants company, my company?
The two you you load up the first wagon full of books and wheel across the center of town to the little store front soon to be the The Jackson Town Library.
“Here we can unload them. Then I can keep making the trips back and forth with the cart while you set them up in the shelves”
“Sounds like a deal to me. Why don’t we make like 3-4 trips and stop for the day. Because if not we’re both the type of people to work on our whole day off.”
“You got yourself a deal sweetheart”
Joel can’t help but smile as he turns to make the second trip. There was just something about the way you made him feel at ease, that he couldn’t get over.
When Joel returned with the second load of books he found you and Ellie chatting as she was helping you.
“What was it like to have a birthday party and sleepovers?” Ellie asks you.
“What makes you ask that?” You ask chuckling a little.
“Well I’ve been reading about them in the people from before the outbreaks diaries but I never had either of them”
“They were fun for a lot of people, I um didn’t really have a lot of friends, so my birthday parties were always mostly family. And I only ever went to a few sleep overs. I was always so excited to be included when I got to go to them.”
It breaks Joel’s heart listening to you and Ellie talking. It wasn’t fair that Ellie never got to experience what life was like before the outbreak, never really getting a childhood. Hearing you talking about how hard and lonely your life was even as a child tore him up. You were different sure, but you had a heart of gold. You were so caring, always supporting everyone who needed something and all you wanted was love and care in return.
He wanted to be that person for you so badly, the one who made your heart soar with all the love and support you never had. To be the one to make you laugh on the good days and take you into his arms and take the pain away on the bad days.
He’s not sure exactly when he started to fall for you, but it was coming on faster and stronger by the day.
“My birthday is next weekend, could I have a birthday party?”
You looked up locking eyes with Joel
“Of course you can, we can throw you a birthday party Ellie” you smile at him as you answer.
We. She wants to help me throw a birthday party for Ellie? There’s no bounds to how wonderful and caring this woman is.
“ I of course want to invite you, Dina, Jesse, Ethan, uncle Tommy and Maria. Ooo can I have a sleep over?”
“No boys are sleeping over”
You can’t help but laugh at Joel’s abrupt response.
“Eww no of course not, but Dina and (y/n) could stay over couldn’t they?”
“ yes if they want to they are more then welcome”
“Oh this is awesome, I gotta go tell everyone!”
“Wait, shouldn’t you ask if (y/n) wants too?” Joel’s looking at you to gage your reaction
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world”
Ellie smiles wildly as she runs out of the store front.
——————————————————————
The day came for Ellie’s party, and you loaded up your wagon with all the supplies and headed over there early to help set up.
“Jesus you’ve got a lot of stuff, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble”
“I know but I really wanted to make this as special as I could for her. She deserves to have the experiences she never got too”
Your big heart made Joel’s soar, you were so kind and thoughtful.
“ I do have a big surprise for her, for all the kids really”
“Oh yea? What do you have up your sleeve?” Joel teases.
“So I went through some boxes that had been in the house in one of the closets. I never bothered to before because it’s not like I really have a lot of stuff so they weren’t in the way. But I wanted to see if there was anything I could use for Ellie’s party and man I hit the jackpot”
Joel just smirks and raises a eyebrow signaling you to continue.
“Well one I found another Will Livingston pun book, which she’s going to love and I found a Nintendo console with a bunch of game cartridges. I figured we could teach the kids how to play and then Ellie can keep it”
There it is again, we. Maybe I’m reading into this to much. But I can’t help but feel like she actually likes spending time with me.
“Shit, they’re all going to love it! Man I haven’t played with one of these in ages”
“Me either, I was never any good at them and the sounds drove me crazy”
Joel relished moments like this, when you pulled back the curtain you shielded yourself with and let him see you.
You sat there completely content and full of joy watching Joel teach the kids how to play each game before he joined you on the couch as they went crazy battling each other.
As the kids cheer and the Mario music blasts Joel looks over to see you struggling. Your eyes shut tightly, chest rising and falling quicker than normal
“Hey, want to have a drink in the kitchen?” Joel whispers as he places his hand lightly on your arm.
“Please” you whisper, embarrassed that Joel saw you like that.
You sit at the kitchen table while Joel takes out two glasses with ice and pours whiskey doubles into them.
“Everything alright darlin’?” Joel ask as he takes his seat sliding your glass over to you.
“Oh..yea..everything’s alright” you say staring down at the amber liquid. Embarrassment flooding your system.
“I ain’t gonna push you if you don’t want to talk and I know I probably ain’t your first choice of someone to talk to, but just know you can talk to me.”
Joel desperately wants to know about your struggles, what makes you the way you are. He wants to be the one that helps you through life, the one who makes the bad days good and the good days better. But he pushes aside the thoughts that you’d want to be more than just friends, if you even considered him that. Because after all why would a girl like you like someone like him, could he really be that lucky?
You think about your answer for a few beats, and realize there’s no use trying to lie to Joel. There was just something about Joel that was comforting, that made you feel safe, but in a different way than the way you felt with Tommy you just couldn’t put your finger on it.
“No its not at all like that. I like talking to you.” You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes light up a little.
“It’s just….I usually just retreat into myself, it’s easier that way. Most people don’t want to hear about my weird issues that can’t be solved with a why don’t you just ignore it?, why can’t you just change? Can’t you be a little less weird?” You said with a defeated shrug.
You wanted to talk to Joel, but part of you hoped he would just change the subject and move on. Because your quiet sure he doesn’t actually want to hear about your ADHD and all the weird idiosyncrasies that came with it.
“Well I’m not most people” he drawled as he lightly touched your arm. Nodding his head to encourage you to continue.
Truthfully he wanted to hear anything you wanted to tell him, Joel wanted to be your comfort point, the person that you went to for anything. To be the person you felt the safest with, to let your tired shoulders relax from holding up that wall around yourself. Letting your true self shine, free from judgement and surrounded by the love you deserve.
“I have sensory issues, especially with audio and textures. It’s hard to explain and it’s been along time since anyone wanted me too, so bare with me because some of this isn’t going to make a whole lot of sense.”
“You take all the time you need sweetheart, there no rush or pressure. I’m here for you”
Joel can’t help but notice your eyes soften and body langue relax a little when you realize he’s got you, that he’s hear for you and truly listening.
“I get overwhelmed easily by a lot of sounds happening at once, like in there with the sounds of the game and all the yelling and cheering at the same time makes my brain feel scrambled up. Like I can’t sort any of it out, it just sounds like one big mixing bowl of sounds. And when that happens I get anxious, my heart starts to pound, my ears ring and sometimes I lash out coming off to aggressive in the moment to try and make it stop.”
“ you’ve been around enough at the stables, you’ve probably heard me come on a little to strong with a razor sharpe tongue when it all gets to much. I always feel so bad, I never mean to snap. But sometimes when it’s so overwhelming it’s like I have no control of my tongue and I just blurt it out before I even realize I’m saying anything.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Ask me anything you’d like and I’ll do my best to answer”
“I don’t want this to come out wrong, I’m realizing now this might sound a little weird. But I’ve noticed you fuss with your clothes, like your pulling them away from your skin constantly, is-is that part of the sensitivity?”
You can’t help but look at Joel for a few beats to long, stunned by his question. Not because of the way he worded it but because of the context of his question, that fact that he’s picked up on your discomfort and is curious about it instead of just asking why you can’t just deal with it like everyone else ever has.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean t’make you uncomfortable” Joel says taking your silence as a bad sign.
“No, you didn’t at all. I just got lost in the thought of you being so observant but always wanting to know.”
“I always want to ask if your alright but I never want to pry, I know you like your space”
You can’t help the smile that dances across your face.
“You can ask me anything Joel, if I’m not comfortable answering I’d tell you.”
“But yes, the clothing thing is part of it. The texture of some fabrics against me make me want to crawl out of my skin. It’s hard sometimes for me to fall asleep too because the way the blankets and sheets touch my skin doesn’t feel right. I know it’s weird, I can’t really explain it.”
“It’s not just with clothing or fabric either, it’s physical touch too, which is the worst to get people to understand. I hate being touched, the feeling of most people touching me makes my skin crawl. And they love to brush it off by being like oh well I’m a huggy person or oh I’m just a touchy person so it’s ok.”
“I’m sorry, I know Ellie hugs you all the time and I know I touched you earlier”
“See now this is the most frustrating and complicated part about this. There are people like you, Ellie and Tommy that are in my bubble that I’m comfortable with, that I trust, that that kind of contact is welcome from.”
She likes when I touch her? Am I a welcome presence for her? I’ll drive myself crazy thinking about this too hard, but maybe just maybe she’s trying to tell me she feels the same as I do?
“Then the flip side of it is that there are also sounds that bring me so much comfort, like songs that I could listen to on repeat without batting an eye. The sound of someone’s voice that brings me back to earth when the anxiety is unrelenting. A scent that soothes me beyond explanation.”
Joel can’t help but let his thoughts run wild, indulging in the thought that you might be talking about him. He’s about to ask about your comment when Ellie barges into the kitchen.
“Oh sorry to interrupt” she says when she realizes you two are deep in conversation.
“Oh no it’s ok, you probably just saved me from really embarrassing myself” you chuckle
Joel doesn’t miss the way you stiffen up, as if you feel like you’ve said to much.
“ I’m ready to watch my birthday movie but I’m also really ready for the guys to leave so it’s just the four of us, could you kick them out?”
“ course I can do that, we’ll be right in”
You quickly get up from the table to follow after Ellie.
“Hang on, sweetheart” Joel says softly as he reaches for your arm.
“Can-can I give you a hug? Or rather would you like a hug?”
You can feel the embarrassment really take hold as you pull your eyes to the floor. He had no idea how much you wanted a hug from him and you had no idea how badly he wanted to hug you.
“I would like that” you said meekly as you nod your head. If Joel wasn’t listening intently, hanging on your every word he would of missed it
He takes a few steps closer to you hesitating for a couple beats before he wraps his arms you.
As if you’d been waiting for this moment, your entire body relaxes under his touch. Joel can’t help but notice they way you bury your head into his chest as you wrap your arms around him tighter. The way you stay there in his arms for longer than he expects, like your completely at ease in this moment.
“Thank you….thank you for listening. For letting me talk.” You whisper
“Thank for trusting me, for letting me in” he whispers back.
——————————————————————
It had been a few months since Ellie’s birthday party and Joel couldn’t help but boil over with happiness at seeing more of you. You started coming around often and listening to him play guitar on the porch after your walks with Ellie. You started joining them for family meals more in the mess hall, though Joel couldn’t tell you he called them that- not yet anyway.
Because honestly he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to decide he wasn’t the type of person you wanted to spend alot of time with. It’s why he didn’t press you on wether or not you were coming to his birthday gathering at the tipsy bison tonight that Tommy was putting together. He didn’t want you to feel pressured.
You slip into the dimly lit tipsy bison about 45 minutes before Joel’s party is supposed to end. You were so nervous to come, that it took alot for you to actually leave the house. You realize as you slip into a table in the dark back corner that you also forgot his present at home too.
Somethings seriously wrong with me when I remember to bring my security book and not this man’s damn present.
You scan the room and see Joel and Tommy talking to a few people at the bar. Nervous about interrupting you open up your book and try to block out all the loud chatter.
Joel scans the small crowd hoping to see you when he over hears Caleb talking to Tommy.
“Why would she come to something like this if she’s not going to speak to anyone?”
Joel follows Caleb’s motion, feeling a tugging in his chest when he lays eyes on you. You’re sitting in the dark corner of the Tipsy Bison hunched over your book, rubbing your finger back and forth on the cover. Something Joel picked up on that you do when your anxious as a way to sooth yourself.
“Sorry we can’t all be rays of fucking sunshine like you” Joel hears Ellie snap back as he’s making his way over to you.
The closer he gets to you the more his heart pounds. When was the last time I ever felt like this if ever. Joel doesn’t know when it started happening but he can’t fight it any longer, he’s falling for you hard and fast like a fright train. You consume his every thought, which terrifies the hell out of him but he can’t turn back now, not even if he tried.
“Hey there sweetheart, you came” for one fleeting moment Joel feels nervous, maybe you don’t want to be bothered because after all you didn’t even tell him you were here. But that all melts away the moment you look at him. The smile that touches your eyes, the shimmer of happiness that dances across your face.
“Hey!”
“It ok to join you?”
“Of course, I’d love that. As long as I’m not taking your time away from anyone else?”
“There isn’t one person in here I’d rather talk to”
The way you beam up at him as you quickly but your book back in you’re bag says it all. This is another sign of yours that Joel’s picked up on, you only do this when you’re comfortable and want to talk to someone. You always do this when you see him, he trys so hard not to read into that but at this point it’s impossible.
The two of you sit and talk for a bit. You can’t help but be consumed by all things Joel when you were around him, and you loved that. The way he looked at you like you were the only other person in the world or the way he made you feel when ever he was near was both to much snd not enough. Your feelings for him charging full steam ahead, there’s no way you’d stop them even if you had the option.
But could he really feel the same?
“Well I should go I don’t want to take you away from your friends to long”
“Oh, let me walk you home”
“No no it’s ok, I’ll be alright, it’s your party” you say frowning, not wanted to inconvenience him in any way.
“Sweetheart…I can promise you most these people ain’t here for me”
You pause for a few beats
“Ok, in that case I’d love that” unable to control the sincere wild smile that dances across your lips at the thought of Joel Miller walking you home.
“Um ah- would you like to come in for a minute? I ah have a gift for you but I forgot it when I left for your party” you smile sheepishly up at Joel as you reach your little house.
“You have a gift for me?”
“Yea…I made you a birthday present”
Joel follows you inside your house, and instantly the scent of you is filling his senses. He watches as your disappear down the hall and into a room, unsure if he can follow you mixed with not wanting to scare you has him staying in the kitchen.
“Here it’s not much, but I wanted to do something” you say nervously handing him the small gift wrapped in a scrap piece of fabric.
You lean back against the counter as Joel takes the gift, unwrapping the corded string holding the fabric around the gift like wrapping paper.
You’re overcome with anxiety watching him, making it near impossible to look at him. What if he doesn’t like it? What if it’s to much? Joel doesn’t miss the way your fidgeting around nervously.
As Joel pulls back the last fold of fabric he reveals a smallish leather bound note book. As he turns it over in his hands the light catches right for him to notice stitched into the cover in a slightly different colored string than the leather is his name.
“You made this for me? Christ it must of taken forever” Joel asks as he runs this fingers over the the letters.
“D-do you like it? I hope it’s not to much?” You say sheepishly, retreating into yourself as your wrap your arms around yourself.
“No no, it ain’t like that. I love it, I’m just surprised you took the time to make something for me of all people.”
“It took me about two months to do, because I worked on it when I had the energy after rounds at the stables. But I wanted to do something special for you, because.. well because your special to me. When I heard you saying your note book for your patrol and maintenance notes was almost full I got the idea to make this without knowing how to go about it”
“Nobody’s ever done anything like this more me before. Is it ok if I give you a hug sweetheart?”
When Joel takes you into his arms he expects you to be tense before you relax like the few times before,but not this time. No this time was different, this time you melted under his touch immediately burying your face in his chest. He can’t help but think maybe you’ve been needing his touch, his comfort as much as he needs yours.
You feel him pull back from the hug, making you painfully aware you held on to him for a few beats to long. You’re anxiety takes over as you pull back, you’re gaze dropping to the floor immediately.
“Sorry. Sorry, I made that weird”
“Give yourself some credit sweetheart, you never make anything weird. I just wanted to look at you, that’s all”
Pulling your gaze back up, your met with his beautiful deep brown eyes. They’re filled with a soft tenderness as he reaches up caressing the curve of your cheek.
Joel’s large warm hand comes to cup the side of your face, smoothing his calloused thumb back and forth over your cheek bone. His heart thunders in his chest when you lean into his touch, looking more free than he’s ever seen you. Almost as if you’re letting him see a glimpse of yourself from before the world fell apart. He also sees a lightness in your body language that he only notices when the two of you are together.
His eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes a few times, trying to search for any fear or discomfort.
Fuck it.
Your eyes flutter closed as Joel’s lips connect with yours in a soft and tender kiss. Your mind in desperately trying to process everything as Joel takes your stillness as hesitation and pulls away at the exact moment you brain catches up.
“Sorry I misre-“
“Wait, Do it again” you whisper
Joel grabs both sides of your face as he lowers himself back down connecting with your soft lips again. Only this time you don’t hesitate, you return the kiss as you bring your hands to loop round his neck, your fingers sinking into the hair at the nape of his neck. Joel skims his hands down your sides resting them on your hips, a action that makes you gasp as you tilt you’re head up.
“Is this ok?” He whispers as he pulls back enough to rest his forehead against yours.
“Yes” you whisper back, running your fingers deeper into his dark graying hair. This action unlocks something deep inside Joel as he hooks his one hand around your lower back and the other around the back of your head pulling you closer to him. When you resume kissing it’s more passionate and frantic than before and as Joel licks along the seam of your bottom lip begging for entrance you tilt your head up immediately allowing him to deepen the kiss. As your warm wet tongues dance together the grip you two have on each other tightens. Neither of you wanting to show the other how terrified you both are of the other slipping through your fingers if you not holding on for dear life.
As you both pull back to catch your breath you can’t help the giggle that escapes you.
“I guess it’s safe to say you liked your present?”
“It’s safe to say I like more than just the present sweetheart”
He can’t possibly be saying what I think he’s saying can he?”
“I’d invite you to watch a movie but I moved the only tv into the bedroom because it helps me sleep alone and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”
What I wouldn’t give to spend every night next to her. I never want her to feel alone.
“I’d be more than comfortable with that but only if you are”
Christ I could get lost in the big hazel eyes of hers.
“I honestly would love that” youre trying to hide your smile not wanting to come off too eager but it’s impossible.
You lead the way to your bedroom, once inside you gesture to the bed, “you can pick the movie and make your yourself comfortable I’ll be right back.”
You beeline it for the bathroom, splashing some water on your face and looking at yourself in the mirror. You take a few deep breaths trying to tamp down the anxiety.
Did I really just invite Joel Miller to watch a movie with me in my bed and he accepted? When did I get so bold?
Making your way back to the bedroom you see Joel sitting up with his back against the wall with the few pillows against the wall next to him.
The way your smiling at him makes him feel like it’s just you and him in this world, I feeling that nobody has ever given him before.
“Why don’t you have any pillows you rest your back on?” You say as you settle in next to him.
“I just want to make sure your comfortable, I’ll be fine”
You laugh, that beautiful laugh Joel has come to love so much.
“Well I certainly don’t need all of these, you should be comfortable too” you say as you hand him a couple.
Joel absolutely melts at this action. It speaks volumes to him that your advocating for his comfort as well as your own without even thinking about it or being asked too.
As he’s settling back against the pillows Joel notices you rolling one of your shoulders back as it’s it’s bothering you.
“You alright sweetheart? I’ve been noticing you rolling youre shoulder a lot this week, it botherin’ you?”
“Oh yea… it’s fine, I just tweaked it at the stables. Shimmers stables doors been sticking and the saddles are a little high for me sometimes, but it’s fine. I just gotta go easy on it for a bit”
Joel feels a wave of concern mixed with anger, but not with you with himself.
I should of asked sooner, she shouldn’t be getting hurt at work because of something I could of helped fixed. I need to go down there and fix something.
“ let me take a look at it sweetheart”
You’re embarrassed, your sure he thinks your the biggest idiot as you turn facing your back to him.
“Where does it hurt?”
“It hurts kind of along my shoulder blade”
Joel starts feeling along your shoulder blade applying light pressure.
“Ugh right in there” you quietly groan
“It’s a little swollen, maybe a pinched nerve…I could rub it, try to work it out for y’ou if you’d be comfortable with that.”
“Wait…really?”
“Please don’t feel like you have too, it’s ok”
“It’s no trouble sweetheart”
Joel helps you settle back between his legs as he slips his hand into the neck of your shirt messaging his thumb along your shoulder.
Joel doesn’t miss the relaxed sigh you breath out as your eyes get heavy and you slowly fall back until your back is completely flush again his chest, your head on his shoulder.
He wraps his arms around you tightly, looking down to see you completely asleep in his arms. He leans down softy placing a kiss on your forehead. Warmth slowly creeps up his spine, over his shoulders and deep into his chest. This is what safety feels like, you- are what safety feels like. Joel doesn’t have to have his walls up with you. He can relax, let his guard down, not have to be in a constant state of fight or flight around you. The more Joel let’s this realization consume him, the heavier his eyes get and before he can stop it he starts dozing off.
He snaps awake 10 minutes later to the feeling of you squirming in his arms followed by the sounds of mumbles and whimpers in your sleep. You cry out briefly before you roll over, clutching him with your head buried in the crook of his and your chest flush against his own. Joel can feel your heart pounding against his chest.
“Shhhh baby girl it’s ok, I got you. You’re with me. Your safe” Joel speaks softly rubbing his hands up and down your back.
The moment you hear his voices, the tension drains from your body and your cry’s stop as you fully relax against him.
“Don’t leave me please…I need you ” you’re soft voice speaks against his neck
Joel holds you tightly, unable to shake the memory of you telling him that someone’s voice was soothing to you, that it made you at ease when ever you heard it. He’s 100% confident that you were talking about him.
“Im not goin’ anywhere sweetheart” Joel says as he squeezes you tighter and kisses the crown of your head.
Your so incredibly raw and vulnerable in the moment as you look up at him, your eyes swirling with comfort mixed with fear as you sleepily sit up.
——————————————————————
The next time Joel opens his eyes it’s early morning, your curled up to him, your head on his chest. He can’t help but think he won the lottery. The idea that a women like you would take comfort in him, that you’d want him by you’re side. Joel will make it his mission to make sure you never feel alone again, that he’s by your side for the rest of your life. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you in his life because he sure as hell didn’t feel like he deserved it.
Joel’s pulled from his thoughts by you sleepily stretch and sitting up. His hand is firmly on your lower back keeping you steady.
“You sleep ok?” He asks slipping his hand under your shirt to rub your lower back.
“I don’t think I’ve slept that deeply since before the outbreak, I’ve never really been a good sleeper”
Christ she’s so beautiful first thing in the morning, givin’ me that cute sleepy smile as she tells me how she slept well next to me.
“Where you able to sleep?”
I can’t tell her I slept better than I have In 20 something years.
“I did get some sleep”
“You hungry? We could go grab Ellie and get breakfast in the mess hall”
Ellie. Fuck I have no idea if any of this is ok with Ellie. I can’t do this to her. I don’t want to drive a wedge between her and Joel or her and I. She’s been though enough I don’t want her to think I’m trying to break up there family.
“ Oh, no it’s ok. You go a head I’m sure you and Ellie have stuff to do today” you say as you you stiffen to sit up straight, the feeling of panic crashing in like a wave.
“No it’s no trouble at all, she should just be over Dina’s anyway” Joel feels your body going ridged, he can tell by your eyes that somethings changing.
“ I have so much to do at the library still before it can open, I’m really not hungry. I’ll just grab something before breakfast ends.” You say swinging your legs over the side of the bed and hurriedly looking for clean clothes.
Joel feels it, he sees it your body langue that somethings wrong. He doesn’t know what flipped the switch but he’s desperate to fix it.
“You should take it easy on your shoulder, rest it so it don’t get worse”
Your body relaxes, your eyes softening briefly at him being protective, showing concern for your health before going ridged again.
“I promise I’ll go easy on my shoulder, I just desperately need to get some projects done. Everyone’s counting on me to get it done and open soon.” Your voice sounds strained and pleading like your trying to convince yourself and much as you are him that you believe what your saying.
“Can I at-least walk you there?”
The walk into town was quiet, neither of you saying much. Just the silent sound of you both battling your own inner self doubt.
“You sure you don’t want breakfast?”
“I’m sure….I’m not very hungry” your voice is soft and strained, almost as if your trying to hold back tears.
Joel cups your face pulling your gaze up to meet his.
“You let me know if you need anything sweetheart, can’t have you hurtin’ your shoulder worse.” Joel drawls before leaning in, closing the gap and placing a soft kiss to your lips. You return the kiss briefly as you run your fingers over his patchy beard.
“I promise I’ll go easy on myself”
Joel can’t shake the feeling that somethings wrong. You never skip breakfast because you get very hangry if you don’t eat in the morning.
Did I scare her? Did I move to fast? Did I make her uncomfortable in some way?
It hits Joel like a ton of bricks as he turn onto his street.
Ellie. She’s worried about how Ellie will feel about us. She’s worried it will drive a wedge between her and I or with them.
Joel stops up the steps and frantically grabs his tool bag.
“Your to old to be staying out all night and then doing a terrible job sneaking back in the next morning” Ellie teases behind Joel.
“I gotta do some extra work in the work shop and at the stables but when your done with your green house shift, we need to talk”
Joel’s never had a way with words like most people, he’s never been eloquent speaker. His love language more came in the form of acts of severance or in words of affirmation. He spends the next few hours building a safe sturdy step stool for the saddles, fixing not just Shimmers stable door but all the horses stables doors so none of them had the possibility to stick and tinkering around and fixing up anything he could find.
You stay at the library for several hours trying completely the simplest tasks, but without much success. Your just going through the motions as your mind is a mile away, thinking about Joel.
Resigning to the fact that you were getting nothing done, you decided to go home to take a hot shower to sooth your racing mind.
As the hot water streams over your body and the steam fills your lungs your mind drifts to Joel. You haven’t stopped thinking about how you can still feel his lips on yours. How he makes you feel seen and heard without any judgement what so ever.
Youre heart aches from how deep your feelings for Joel go, even if it feels like you don’t deserve having him in your life. But you need to apologize to him for how abruptly you retreated back into yourself when the feelings felt to real this morning.
Joel’s nursing a glass of whisky when Ellie gets back from her shift at the green house.
“What’s up Joel, everything alright?”
“Yea, nothin’ bad I just, I like someone and wanna talk about it”
“Oh congrats, your getting soft in your old age. Did you finally become friends with your horse”
“Jerk, no I like a woman. I like a woman, I wanna date her. But are you ok with that?”
“Your so bad at this, why are you being so awkward?”
“We’ll Christ, I’ve never done this before, had this kind of talk. I never brought anyone around Sarah. I don’t know what I’m doing”
“Wait… is this about Y/N?”
Joel nods cautiously
“Man you really are dense aren’t you?” Ellie playfully pokes.
“What’s so funny?”
“Joel.. I’ve been trying to set you up with her since we got here. Tommy’s been helping too”
“What? Really? You’re ok with it?”
“You guys are perfect for each other, it’s so obvious you two really care about each other, at least it is too me because I get to spend time with you guys together away from everyone else.”
Joel just stairs at her stunned
“Look I never wanted to admit this because it sounds stupid, but the times when it’s just you, me and her…it’s feels like we’re a family, like I actually have the family I’ve been dying to have my whole life. She got to know us and excepted us the way we are without listening to all the whispers around town and I think that’s fucking beautiful.”
“I gotta go see her”
“I swear to god Joel don’t fuck this up, she’s the happiness we both deserve, but yes, go to her, go right now”
Joels out of the house and down the street before his brain catches up.
Your scrambling around the house trying to get dressed as fast as you can before you get to anxious and decide not to go to Joel’s when you hear a knock at the door.
“The book drop off box is on the porch” you yell down the hall, figuring someone was trying to pick up or drop off books they borrowed since you weren’t at the library. But you hear who ever is is knock again.
“The book pick up is also on the porch” you yell again hoping the person hears you and gets the point,but they do it yet again. Completely flustered at this point you rip your shirt down over you head and pad angrily to the door.
“The book drop off and pick…” you aggressively swing the door open, stoping dead in your tracks at who’s on the other side.
“Joel” you whisper in surprise. All you can do is stare for a few beats to long at how the evening light highlights his already beautiful features.
“Sorry, this a bad time sweetheart?”
“No…sorry I just thought you were someone else”
You immediately pick up on his change In body langue and quickly follow up with “I just thought it was someone trying to pick up or drop off books” you watch as he relaxes right away again.
“I…I um was actually on my way over to your place”
Before either if you know it your smashing together in a kiss like two magnet’s. The kiss is all teeth and tongues, it’s desperate and awkward, messy and beautiful. Your both clutching on to each other like the other might fly away as Joel walks you backwards through the door way as he pushing the door closed with his foot.
As you both pull back for air Joel cradles your face with his large hands, caressing your cheek bones with the rough pads of his thumbs. His deep brown eyes lock with you hazel ones ands it’s as if they rest of the world doesn’t exist, like it’s only the two of you left on earth.
“I’m so sorry about this morning, I wasn’t trying to be weird. I-I I just…I scared myself with everything”
“It’s ok sweetheart” Joel says as he kisses you softly.
“I talked to Ellie, she’s ok with us being a thing. Honestly quiet excited about it”
You’re speechless for a moment, as you eyes start to well with tears.
“Joel, you didn’t have to do that, I’m sorry if you felt like you had too”
“I did have too, because it’s important to me”
“It’s…it’s important to me that you did”
At hearing that Joel lunges forward again capturing your lips in a kiss pulling you flush against his chest. He swallows the gasp that escapes your lips when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth. You snake your arms around his neck tugging the hair at the nape of his neck. The growl that, that action elicits vibrates through your chest.
“Bedroom?” Joel grits out, his deep voice drips with desire mixed with love.
Joel can’t convince himself otherwise any more, he loves you.
“Bedroom” you echo
Joel’s walking you backwards down the hall to your bedroom when he turns slightly pinning you against the wall just outside your bedroom.
“Are you sure about this sweetheart?” He pulls back just enough to lock eyes with you.
You nod your head yes.
“I need to hear you say it sweetheart. I don’t want to push you farther than your comfortable going because i thought it was ok.”
“I’m sure about this Joel, I want it…I want you”
Joel let’s out a low groan as he attaches his lips to your jaw, nipping his way long it until he reaches that soft spot where your jaw meets your neck. He sucks hard and then soothes the spot with his tongue as his hands sneak inside the hem of your shirt squeezing your plush sides. This earns him another tug at his hair as you let out a whimper. Joel’s head spins from how breathless you are already for him and he hopes you can tell how breathless he is for you.
Joel rips his shirt off at the feeling of you raking your hands up and down his chest. He’s been touched starved for so long that the desperate need for your touch, to feel your skin on his takes over.
Most people wouldn’t describe Joel as beautiful, but you always found him to be. You thought as you took in the sight of him shirtless.
Joel watches you nervously as you trace over old scars on his chest. He’s afraid you’ll want to run and hide from him bearing his soul to you in a way he never has or ever wanted too. But the moment you press your lips to the scars on his chest this worry melts away. You pepper every scar you can see across his chest, arms and shoulders with kisses before you make your way to his neck. You sneak your hands around him to slide them up his back as you reach his ear.
“Every part of you is beautiful” you whisper as you kiss along his jaw.
Joel feels dizzy from your words as your lips make it back to his. Never in his life has anyone ever called him beautiful much less been this tender and sensual with him. He can’t get enough, as he grabs at your waist again. Pulling you tightly to him as he presses you firmly again the wall causing your shirt to ride up.
“It’s ok… you can take it off” you breath
Joel wastes no time ripping your shirt up over your head.
“Your so fuckin’ gorgeous” he growls as you arch into him so he can unhook your bra.
You let the straps slide down your arms until it falls to the floor between the two of you. You’re mind goes blank from Joel’s intense gaze. Slowly he slides his hands up your torso to your breasts. They barely even touched you and your nipples are already hardened peaks. The sensation of him rolling them beneath his slightly calloused thumbs as he’s squeezing your breasts hits you hard. Your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back against the wall, if your not carful you might just climax from this alone.
“Fuck…your skins so soft” Joel growls as he pulls you away from the wall and into your bedroom, not stopping until your legs hit the end of your bed.
His eyes burn right through you as you slid your pants down, leaving yourself in just your panties as you climb on the bed.
The two of you hold each others gaze for a few beats as Joel undoes his belt and steps out of his pants. You instinctually spread your legs to make room for him as the bed dips down. He doesn’t care how long he has to draw this out, Joel’s not stopping until he’s explored every inch of your body. Making you feel like the goddess that he sees you as.
Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his hard outline straining his boxers and back to his eyes. The way he playfully smirks at you makes you realize just how exposed you are to him, making you start to wrap your arms around your body to cover yourself.
“You ok sweetheart?” Joel asks rubbing circles into your thighs.
“Do you want me to cover up some?”
“What?”
“Wait why would I want you to cover up?” He half huffs, confused
“Im not the skinniest…I don’t look as good as you”
Joel hates the idea that someone(s) made you feel like you weren’t worthy because your body isn’t their ideal body. He’s loves your curves, the plushness of your skin.
“Everything about you is gorgeous, and if it s’ok id like to show you just how gorgeous I think you are.”
You frantically nod and with that Joel dips his body down kissing right above your clothed clit, pulling a whimper out of you. He then moves to your hips, kissing them both before kissing all the way up your stomach til he reaches your breasts.
He licks along the swell of your breast, pulling your peaked nipple in between his teeth as he palms the other one with his free hand. Then does the same to the other.
“So fuckin’ sexy” Joel whispers against your breast as he swings his leg over to straddle one of your legs.
He crashes forward, his rock hard bulge pressing into your hip to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hands automatically plant firmly in his hair as his tongue dances with yours. Making his way down your neck sucking the soft skin where your shoulder meets your neck between his teeth, then sooth it with his tongue. You know it’s going to leave a mark, you want it too. Even if this is just for tonight, you want Joel to mark you as his. But you had no idea how much he wants that too. To make you his.
Joel plunges his tongue back into your mouth as he dips his free hand where you need it most. His finger grazes your clit has he slips it through your slit, deep into your core with a audible squelch. You both swallow each others moans.
A breathy moan escapes your lips as he gathers some of your wetness to your swollen clit with tight circles.
“Christ baby…y’so wet. This all from me?” Joel breathes, as you pull back. He wants to see the pleasure he’s giving you.
“All day…a-always” you breath unable to get more out.
“Fuck” Joel groans as he pulls down your panties, seating himself back between your legs.
“Fuck..baby you feel s’good around my fingers”
Joel’s trusts his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace.
“J-Joel…it’s feels s-s good” you say through a stifled whimper.
“Don’t hold back baby. Lemme hear ya. Wanna hear how good I make you feel.” Joel purrs as he’s stroking that soft spongy spot so well.
Your climax crashes over you like a wave against a rocky coast. You couldn’t stop even if you tried.
“Fuu- J-Joel…it feels so good”
“Thats it baby let go”
You clench around his fingers perfectly as you fall over the edge.
“Doin’ so good for me sweetheart. Soundin’ so beautiful.”
Joel leaves a trail of kisses and praise in the valley between your breasts and down your stomach.
“Can I taste you sweetheart?” He growls as he nips at the insides of your thighs. Pupils blows wide open when you lock eyes with him.
“Please” you whine
Joel gives a few kitten licks up your center to watch you squirm, then dives in like a starved man eating his last meal. You thrusted your hips forward grinding into his face desperately chasing anything he’ll give you. Joel’s harder than he’s ever been before, head dripping with pre-come at the feeling of you grinding on his face to chase your release.
He’d give you this every single day if you’d let him. He doesn’t even care about his own release. He could drown in between your legs and die a happy man seeing the pleasure he gives you from his tongue on your face.
Tag List:
@vee-bees-blog @vie-is-punk @musings-of-a-rose-writes @iamsherlocked-1998 @frecklefacelm @thatoneobsessedlinguist-writes @alyhull @sj66 @merci-killing @whenmondaycomes @ellishamae25 @romabloo @jennaispunk @elizabeth4th @runningmom94 @closetedconsumer @alongfortheridereader @thegingerlily @starlite41 @sirensheartbeat-blog @pedropascalfan221 @vivian-pascal @mads198-9 @f1shb0nez @almodovarispunk @pedroslittlelady @collection-of-fucking-chaos @megjohnston23 @pascalispunks-blog @skully-skeleton-bone0106
@peanutweanut @joelalorian @mssalmighty @mountainsandmayhem @zipp7201 @folkloreandfall @steadydragongalaxy @ceceliamariee @starrynight57-blog
@nahchiefimgood @i-love-taylor @hc-geralt-23 @hopelessromantic727 @casispunk @ctrlaltdel3te @drewharrisonwriter @teddyitalia @mexicanfolklore
@enchantingfireduck @thatwierdgirlmaddi-blog @art-estrange @amy
@chiefevelyn @niallsblckgirlfriend @unnecesarysstuff @horses1012ans @morgaussy @jellybeanxc @stxory @lavenderallergy8 @sj66 @spacecowgirl1111 @tupelomiss @hauntedpoetsdepartment @aromanticfever @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @sweetperfectioncloud @honeymarvel @samarav @is-being-ignored-a-hobby @elliaze @kjo770 @amyispxnk
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spellboundtales · 3 months
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Fic rec
here are some MASTERPIECES
🩰hurt/comfort
🧸Fluff
🦋Angst
🌺Smut
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Spencer Reid
🩰 🧸what he knows by @luveline || reader is insecure and Spencer comforts her!
🧸 Love Sick by @criminalmindzjunkie || Spencer is jealous that reader has a date! Now he has to find a way to sabotage it
🌺the more loving one by @criminalmindzjunkie || Professor!Spencer catches himself falling for one of his students. i'm so down bad for Professor!Spencer
🧸Holy Ground by @writer-in-theory || Spencer is your neighbor! Reader and him start a conversation with…steaky notes!
🩰🧸You’re my future, past and present by @mismatched-sockss || exes to… what will happen when reader and Spencer will see each other again after years?
🩰🌺🦋A marriage story by @bunnylovesani || PostPrison!Spencer and reader have to deal with the aftermath, trying to save their marriage
🧸this request by @ddejavvu || sunshine!reader purposely telling wrong facts when Spencer is around
🧸i can see you by @januaryembrs || the desk jokey from the floor below has caught spencer's eye...maybe he caught her eyes too
🧸you're too sweet for me (you were like an angel to me and when you know, you know) by @januaryembrs || sunshineRookie!reader and PostPrison!Spencer in kinda 3 parts (literally the holy trinity)...you should def check all her works because this is g o l d
🩰🧸this request by @nereidprinc3ss || reader and spencer are friends and he comfrots her after a bad date with a real jerk... when i tell you that this one is one of my favorite...felt that
🧸this request by @nereidprinc3ss || Spencer helps reader to change her bandages...and things get...funny...
🦋🧸lovely to sit between comfort and chaos (pt2) by @cerisereids || reader meets Spencer when he's on a case in her hometown
🧸the Love Hypotesis (series) by @goldentournesol || reader kisses the first man she sees all because of a lie...turns out that man is also her professor
🧸this request by @reiderwriter || Spencer babying an obvlious reader... the team has enough.
🧸isn't she pretty, dad? by @reiderwriter || dad!Spencer and his son playing matchmaker with his teacher
🌺🩰following rules (+ we can't be friends) by @little-diable || reader is JJ's daughter...what could ever happen between her and Spencer? (spoiler: a lot)
🧸carriage six (+pt2 platform ten) by @avis-writeshq || Spencer can't help but notice the same pretty girl on his train ride to work...what happens when she catches him ogling her?
🧸🌺🩰Emergency room by @violetrainbow412-blog || in the middle of the night reader receives a call from the hospital...turns out reader is spencer's emergency contact...but they broke up over a year ago
Aaron Hotchner
🦋fix it and 🩰fix it together by @miley1442111 || this 2 part fic, in which Aaron and wife!reader fight, because he compares reader to Haley..can they fix their marriage? this is soul shattering guys... (check all her works because when i tell you her writing style is amazing...)
🩰not so subtle by @ssahotchnerr || (not so) secret relationship with Aaron, who desperatly wants to comfort reader after a though case...
🌺how did she? by @little-diable || Hotch and reader meet at a cafe...he looks familiar... (dad'sFriend!Hotch)
Remus Lupin
🧸“I am not very good at flirting, am I?” by @hello-everyfandom || a study date with remus..wait...is it even a date?
Anthony Bridgerton
🧸🌺🦋Take my hand by @rubysunnday || Anthony tries his best as a matchmaker for reader…truth is reader wants only Anthony…
Joel Miller
🧸weakness by @joelsgreys || a lovely afternoon at Bill and Frank's…what could go wrong?? maybe it's time that some feelings come out of the surface...
Din Djarin
🦋🧸touching din by @archieimagines || three times Din shows you that he cares...even bendin his rules a bit to do so
🧸 significant by @softlyspector || Din has called reader Riduur for months…but what does it mean?
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starryinkart · 8 months
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[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY!!!]
(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!!)
Soooo I was sucked into Poppy Playtime again because of these goobers!! I don’t think I’ve ever posted Poppy Playtime stuff on here before, buttt I think I will now, I just wish the fandom was a bit bigger and more lively lmao 🤣
Catnap is my #1 favorite, then DogDay, then KC, and then Hoppy! I love the others too, but Bubba and Crafty are so hard to draw atm. I just need to practice more with them!😓
{Colorless Lines Below!!}
Headcannons for them below too!!!
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———————
Some headcannons in the show universe cause I’m feeling fun:
- Catnap is the youngest! DogDay is the oldest of the crew! Their age order goes (oldest to youngest) DogDay, Bubba, Picky, Kickin, Crafty, Bobby, Hoppy, Catnap!
- Catnap doesn’t talk much, but he can. Just with a low voice that tends to be calming, and very sweet sounding. He usually just points, says short answers like yes or no, and nods.
- While Kickin (or KC) is the most egocentric and confident, Hoppy is the most energetic and tends to like talking people’s heads off, which causes them to butt heads at times, all while Picky tends to be the usual third wheel, often just quietly eating.
- Crafty is the most creative while Bubba is the most thoughtful and intelligent, which usually allows them to have deep, meaningful conversations of the wonders of life together.
-Crafty is the shyest out of the bunch, usually drawing with Catnap calmly, sharing her creations with him or hanging out with Bubba.
- Bobby and Picky tend to share their love for the world together, usually playing dress up with each other, talking about crushes. or cooking of course! Bobby always has something lovely to share and Picky, in contrast to her name, always is open to trying something new, as long as she thinks she may like it.
- In contrast to the canon, all of the crew just magically woke up in the Playcare, with no memories of before they opened their eyes to the colorful world around them. DogDay and Bubba were the first to appear, Picky, Crafty and Kickin spawning after, Bobby and Hoppy spawning together and Catnap spawning alone. There seems to be no way out, so the crew just embraces their situation and tries their best to not think about it too much.
- Catnap was the last and most unexpected to spawn in. From the time he opened his eyes to the new world around him, he had felt like something was off, like he didn’t belong there. While most of the others treated him nice, some of the crew were uneasy about his sudden appearance, seemingly years after the last of the previous arrivals had spawned in.
- Catnap begins to grow close to DogDay, almost becoming like his little brother. They spend the most time together, due to DDs kindness and warm welcoming energy towards him on his arrival! Also them both noticing they wore opposite necklaces, Cat being the moon and DD being the sun helped with that connection too!
- Kickin doesn’t really like or trust Catnap much, and doesn’t try to hide it, making snarky remarks and comments to clearly express his dislike for him.
- Catnap is super playful with the others, his best friends being Dog Day, Hoppy and Crafty! He tends to move like a ghost, the crew not usually noticing they are in his presence until they turn around! A lot of times, he hangs by his tail on the trees to say hello, or can be found in the fields laying in the grass and sleeping.
- Cat can sleep anywhere that is a surface, and is not wet.
- Every once and while, Cat swears he can see a skinny, metallic hand in the shadows, beckoning his attention. He’s tried to bring it up to the others, but they either think he’s acting weird, insane, or tell him not to worry about it.
———————
If you want to hear more, my asks are open!!! And I will be drawing them inbetween my Absolutely Chapters for Murder Drones, which I am STILL working on and Chapter 4 is coming out soon!! Promise, I didn’t forget, things have just been busy!!
ALSOOOOO New Murder Drones Comic for King Solver N coming this weekend 👀👀👀 Perhaps some angst or something fun?
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a-simple-imagine · 1 month
Text
World Burn
synopsis: nobody messes with regina george
pairing: regina George x fem!reader
words: 1.5k+
A/N - inspired by the bikeriders. this is an au. if you would like to know more about the au please ask :)
WARNINGS - violence, threats and arson
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the human body is so incredibly fragile. it's actually rather pathetic. as it crumbles so easily under a little pressure. bruises are so common. even paper can be dangerous. and it was never more evident as you were being helped up the stairs towards her office. part of you couldn't help but wonder how you got into this mess in the first place. the other? well, that worried about whether she would be mad at you.
the stairs feel so much longer when you struggle with each step. the twang of metal so much louder as your footfalls against the surface. it almost felt like a miracle when you reached the top. stumbling into her office, you're basically dragged to the couch against the far wall.
"What happened?" you can't tell how she's feeling. is that concern? anger? she's rather neutral
"We just found her like this,"
"saw a couple cars drive away though,"
they place you down carefully. the cool leather of the couch is almost soothing to the touch. your entire body feels numb. weightless even. burning. it hurts to breathe. every rise and fall of your chest sends a sharp jolt through your body. it's a moment before she comes over to you. tall and proud. staring down at you but her intimidating aura soon softens as she falls beside you. A gentle hand is placed below your chin to force you to look at her. "can you tell me who did this?" your eyes meet for a second before you pull away. a small shrug. "Baby," you feel stupid. powerless. like some pathetic little kid. you don't know what happened... well, not exactly. you were jumped by a couple of people when you got home. you don't know who they were or how they got in but you remember red hot pain wash over you afterwards. "please, talk to me," her voice so gentle you'd think it wasn't her. Regina was many things but gentle wasn't one of them. She treated you like you were her entire world but still a world she ruled. she was in charge.
"I'm sorry,"
"what for?" you don't really know. for not fighting back. for not doing something. anything at all. you just took it. you shrug again. Regina pulls you against her. it's supposed to be comforting but with the way your body feels it is sharp. you eventually relax into her. burying your face into her neck. "I'm gonna find who did this." said quietly. "you're safe. I promise." was she trying to convince you or herself?"
It's a couple of days and a lot of painkillers later you're being led down a seedy alleyway. you're mostly fine. lots of bruises, a few scratches and a broken rib but you've gotten over the initial shock. Regina is a step ahead with her hand in yours. Gretchen walks beside her, struggling to keep up with the blonde. those two were inseparable. or more so, Gretchen followed Regina around like a puppy. she basically existed to keep Regina happy. did everything she was told. her right-hand man. next to you was Karen. a little spacey. big heart. Regina had a whole bunch of others who followed her command too but Gretchen and Karen were the only ones who were always by her side. and you too now. kind of. the air is thick with heavy booze. it's far from your usual setting. Regina almost seemed out of place. it was rare she saw to matters herself. normally that was Gretchen's job if it was delicate or she'd delegate to somebody else. today was different apparently. you never came along on jobs either but again today was different. She pushes the door to an almost invisible bar; you'd hardly notice it's there unless you were looking. it's small in size, dingy and dark. mostly empty apart from the bartender and two gentlemen. one face down on a table while the other sipped from a whiskey glass at the bar. the two conscious individuals look your way. you didn't know them but it made you feel uneasy. you squeeze her hand but she either doesn't notice or doesn't care as you parade through the space towards the bartender. a short guy. he gives up the boss's location without hesitation. points to a room in the far corner. you have a bad feeling about this, or maybe the pills weren't sitting right. the blonde barges through the door without a care in the world. it's a small office. a woman sits behind a desk; a guy leaps up as you enter, another just stands beside her. guns raised but not fired. the blonde is entirely unfazed. just marches straight for the desk, dragging you along with her.
"It's okay," a delicate hand shoots up, a message to her men to stand down. "Regina George, to what do I owe this pleasure?" a slow glance up, she wears a playful smile as their eyes meet. She was expecting this encounter. planned it even. they both just stare at each other for a moment. this other woman is pretty up close but hardly stands out amongst the likes of Regina. you have never seen her before. most of the people in this business visited the club if not to party then to speak with Regina. She ran things around here. the head bitch many would say. the new girl has a twinkle in her eye. that fresh off the boat, proud of themselves look that was about to be utterly destroyed
"cute." uttered quietly, the blonde stood a little taller. "Gretchen," Gretchen Weiners comes scurrying along to appear beside you.
"This is Gretchen, say hi Gretchen."
"Hello," Gretchen smiles softly, an awkward little wave.
"and I assume you've already met-" Regina ushers you forward, a possessive hand on your shoulder. you offer a shy smile. "do you wanna tell me what happened?"
you look at Regina through the corner of your eye. Was she talking to you or them? "I don't know what you're talking about," they respond.
"that's okay. I already know," Regina insists with a smile. "I know about everything that goes on around here."
"what's your point?"
"name?"
"cady? Cady heron."
"well, Cady," Regina's voice is slow. "do you have something you would like to say to my girl here?"
Cady stands now as if trying to get on the same level as Regina. she's naturally smaller though so it doesn't quite work. "not that I can think of, so, if you could leave my office."
it's a long tense moment that feels like it may never end. "you're new around here so maybe you just don't know better," the blonde leans in closer now. "but if you ever so much as look at her in the wrong way ever again, I'll break every bone in this pathetic little body of yours, got it?"
"got it," Regina maintains her gaze before turning around with a flick of her long hair.
"is that it?" you ask, hurrying after her.
"you trust me right?"
"of course," you nod quickly.
"she won't come near you again. promise." you want to believe her but she hardly did anything. You have a broken rib and all she did was a little threat that Cady didn't even seem phased by? would that keep her away?
it's strangely beautiful if not a little menacing. the way the red and orange flickers against the night sky. the flames getting bigger. brighter. more powerful. so hot against the skin even as you just stare on. a pair of arms slip around your shoulders enveloping you in their warm embrace. Regina presses up against you from behind. "it's pretty, isn't it?"
you nod a little and she places the most delicate of kisses against your cheek. she'd set the bar on fire. well, not her directly. probably Gretchen or some other no-name follower. and now you were all just watching it burn. "aren't you scared?"
"I doubt Cady has the power for that,"
"no, I mean like- you set the place on fire. the police and firefighters are gonna show up at any minute but everyone is so calm,"a soft chuckle. one you can feel more than hear. Regina was amused, squeezing you a little tighter. "I don't want you to get in trouble,"
"oh baby," a term of endearment but it felt just a little patronising as a hand graced your cheek and moved your head to look at her. "you worry too much, everything will be fine."
"Are there people still inside?" you ask. Regina doesn't answer, just kisses you before letting go and turning back to the fire at hand. it's surprisingly tranquil. no police had come yet. no fire trucks. just the roaring fire. you wonder about Cady still inside. maybe she got out. maybe she was warned. maybe you're just better off not knowing. "it's so hot."
"yeah," a kiss to the back of your head. "I'm also getting hungry- should we get food?" you nod against her. She releases you from her grip and takes your hand instead.
"still feeling sore?"
"a little but I'm okay," you answer.
"you sure? we can head home?"
you shake your head. "let's go out."
Regina presents you with a smile. bright and warm like the fires raging behind her as she leads you off towards the car. you can't help but glance back and look at the flames that quite literally burn for you
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muldermuse · 10 months
Text
two sinners (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)
ok so this is feral and I wrote it in a day bc I could feel it rotting away in my brain
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Gator Tillman is a horrible guy and reader wants to get him back.
18+ only!!! Smut below. Smut includes piv sex, infidelity (pretty big thing), Gator is mean but so is reader, oral (f receiving), rimming (m receiving), slutshaming, mention of anal (f receiving), mention of cuffs used as restraints, brief nipple play, use of the word whore/slut, spitting, dirty talk, praise kink, stalking???. If any of that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.
this could be a multi part fic. It was fun to write and I enjoy the dynamic so lemme know if u enjoyed!!!
He’s barely out of you by the time he says it this time. “That’s the last fuckin’ time I do this shit, we’re done”. He spits it at you like it’s acid on his tongue. 
You’re lying on your bed completely naked as his come is slowly dripping out of you onto your linen. The first few times you’d done this, you put on fresh linen and lit a floral candle. He never appreciated it so you stopped. His statement would hurt you a lot more if this wasn’t becoming a regular occurrence. It’s become a routine; something it was never supposed to be. 
He visits your home, fucks you however you want him to, makes you come as many times as he can, he feels guilt as soon as he finishes, he splashes cold water over his face in your en suite bathroom (leaves it in puddles across your tiled floor and organised surfaces) and then grabs his things and storms out. He’ll be back before the end of the week- he always is.
You’re getting tired of it. It should be harder now he has a girlfriend and you’re seeing a few guys from the local area. But it isn’t. You’re unsure why.
He tells you he hasn’t slept with Glenda yet. His daddy loves her, thinks she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen and he’s been vocal about his dislike of you. You think he’s a fucking idiot so you guess it’s good that the feeling is mutual. Gator can’t be with anyone his daddy doesn’t like, you’ve heard him brag about how he could get any gal he wants but you know it’s not true. You’re pretty sure that Gator knows that as well deep down. 
You were sleeping together before he got with Glenda. Glenda is a church girl and his daddy’s protege. Roy sets them up and tells Gator he’s been blessed to have Glenda enter his life. Whereas, Roy thinks you have sin in your heart and you know that you do. You believe him that he hasn’t slept with her yet, if he does- it makes the whole relationship real. This is something that you know Gator is trying to avoid. His head is buried deep beneath the sand and he’s trying to find air holes to catch his breath before he suffocates. 
You’re sleeping with other people, like Jax from the local store and Steve from the bar. Neither know about each other or about your Gator situation. Jax and Steve take you out on dates and fuck you in their cars and their homes. It’s passionate and sweet. It’s filled with promises and hope. Gator fucks you like he’s trying to get expel something deadly from his body. Gator’s a terrible person and you know that you are too. This is why you’re done with him, not for Glenda or Roy Tillman. Certainly not for Jax and Steve. You’re done because you want him to want you more than he ever has before. He’s an asshole and you want him more desperate than ever for you. You hear him spit in your sink as he comes back into the bedroom. 
“You say this shit all the time Gator. What if I’m done with you huh?” You’re still naked and you can feel his cum drying on your inner thighs.
“You’re the one who always comes crawlin’ back to me remember? Jus’ a fuckin’ whore- that’s why I liked usin’ you though so don’t take it personal”. He giggles cruelly as he shrugs his jacket back on. 
His words don’t hurt, a few months ago they would’ve made your stomach drop and tears prick in your eyes. But now? It just fuels you. 
“Go back to Glenda, Gator”. That will hurt him. You never say her name, you only do it because that sentence is the equivalent of a scorching red hot poker branding his sensitive skin. 
“Don’t say her fuckin’ name”. Anger flashes across his eyes. “I am so fuckin’ done with you and I mean it”. You want to laugh at how powerful he perceives his words to be. 
“You say fuckin’ shit you don’t mean all the time Gator. It’s like breathing to you”. You wrap a bedsheet around you and get up to stand in front of him. 
“That’s it then, you’re done with this right?” He nods. “I don’t wanna see your fuckin’ face or hear from you again. Don’t text me, don’t casually come into my work and don’t fuckin’ turn up here.
Get the fuck out of my fuckin’ house, Gator”
***
Two weeks pass with nothing. You can’t say you’re not impressed. He doesn’t glance at you when you see him on the street. He doesn’t call or text. 
Glenda shares pictures on Facebook of the pair of them. She looks happy and he looks uncomfortable. You think that that sums up the entire relationship. You know he’s going to break and speak to you; it’s just waiting.
You carry on seeing Jax and Steve. Jax takes you to a drive in movie theatre and goes down on you on the backseat for the entire movie. He buys you your favourite candies and chips for the ride there and back. He makes you laugh and asks if you want to make it official- you tell him you don’t. He asks when he can see you again. 
Steve takes you to a new steakhouse. He gets you a bottle of red wine and when you don’t like how your steak is cooked; he swaps your plates. You go back to his place and ride him on the couch in his living room. You spend the entire time thinking about how you couldn’t do this with Gator because he lives with his daddy. Before you leave, Steve gives you a necklace with your birthstone on. He tells you how much you mean to him, you thank him and drive home. 
You don’t miss Gator. You don’t feel positively about him at all. You just like that he wants you and you like the power you hold over him. If you wanted to ruin his life you could. You could tell his daddy and Glenda that he loves fucking a sinner. That he’s fucked you in every possible way they could imagine and he loves it. You could tell them about how he’s been that pussydrunk on you; he’s told you he’s in love with you. Or maybe about how after you ate his ass on his daddy’s dining room table, he told you he wanted to run away with you and that he’d already looked into it and started storing money away. You didn’t say anything back to him, you just stored away these love drunk confessions so you could use them against him. 
Gator Tillman is the worst guy you know.
And he makes you feel fucking powerful.
***
It takes 4 weeks in total for him to break. 
[received on Monday at 04:32] Gator🐍💩: are u going to the church potluck on Saturday
[received on Monday at 10:12] Gator🐍💩: just bc u went last year, know it’s not ur scene tho. 
[received on Monday at 15:05] Gator🐍💩: im goin with Glenda so just don’t want it to be awkward
[received at Tuesday at 01:54] Gator🐍💩: ?? Do you have a new number? 
He calls you three times on Wednesday. 
You ignore every text and every ring. 
His patrol car is parked over the street from you on Thursday. He knows you leave for work at half 6 in the morning. You know you’ll see him again, probably during lunch as he is so fucking predictable. Every Thursday, you go for a bagel at a local deli because you love the mid week special. You can already picture his car parked outside there on the curb waiting for you. So you know it’s a great time to invite your new, very handsome, colleague called Jenson along. Jenson is new to the department and is a quarterback for a local team. He’s made his attraction to you pretty clear, he brings in a coffee for you every morning and has asked you out for drinks before. 
You offer to drive Jenson to the deli and, of course, Gator’s car is parked out front. He sees you but you don’t look at him. You can feel his eyes burning into you and Jenson. You grip Jenson’s bicep and throw your head back in a giggle and something mediocrely funny that he said. As you get closer to Gator’s car, you politely smile at him and squeeze Jenson’s arm tighter. 
[received on Thursday at 21:45] Gator🐍💩: Jenson Ackerley????? really??? that guys a fuckin asshold
[received on Thursday at 22:35] Gator🐍💩: *asshole
Instead of replying to Gator, you spend Thursday evening exchanging flirty texts with Jenson. You invite him to the Potluck on Sunday and ask if he wants to come back to your place for dessert. 
***
He reaches new levels of desperation on Friday.
“Hi, it’s Joe on reception. I’m really sorry to disturb you on your lunch. I have Sheriff Tillman here and he just wants to come to your office if that’s okay?”
You’re sat alone preparing for the rest of your day when Joe’s call comes through. Jenson has finished early for the day and gave you a bouquet of flowers before he left. He smiled when he gave them to you and said he couldn’t wait to spend the day with you on Sunday. 
You’re excited as well but for a different reason.
“Hi Joe, I’m sorry but can you tell Gator that I’m just having my lunch with Mr Ackerley so I don’t have time for a chat”
You can hear Gator speaking in the distance after Joe relays your message to him.
“He says it will only take a few minutes”
“Can you apologise for me Joe and tell him that Mr Ackerley and I will see him on Sunday at his Father’s potluck”
You hear Joe recite the message verbatim for Gator. Although you can’t see it, you can imagine the look of disgust on his face and it makes you grin.
You spend Friday evening texting Jenson and telling him in detail what you’re going to do when you get back to your home on Sunday. He asks if you want to ‘skip straight to dessert’ and miss the potluck. You tell him you can’t because you’re planning to see a friend. You don’t tell him who it is.
***
You wear an outfit you know Gator will love on Sunday. It’s a pale green flouncy dress which pushes your tits up and looks amazing. Your hair is half up half down and your make up is dewy with a strawberry scented lip gloss brushed over your lips. You text Jenson and ask him to bring an extra coat for you to wear because you’ll be cold. He doesn’t ask why you don’t just wear your own.
Jenson tells you how beautiful you look on your doorstep and he hands you another bouquet. It’s white peonies and he says it nearly matches your outfit. As you laugh at him, you pull his face to yours to kiss him. He drives to the potluck in his truck and you listen to a country album he’s been telling you about. You haven’t brought a meal but Jenson’s mom has made some pasta salad so you’ll pass that off as your own. His hand stays on your upper thigh the entire ride.
The first person you see at the potluck is Glenda. She looks great, you have to admit. Her blonde hair is in a tight bun sitting at the nape of her neck. Her dress is long, black and covers her body. A diamond crucifix hangs around her neck and you know that Roy made his son buy that for her as a token of his love for her.
You and Glenda don’t get on. You know she doesn’t suspect anything about you and Gator; her mind wouldn’t even dare think about it. You’ve known her since high school and you could lie and say that the only reason you don’t like her is because you existed in different social groups. It isn’t because of that. It’s because Glenda is a truly and fundamentally awful person. You recognised in your younger years that she enjoyed making people miserable. Shaming people about their relationships to god and judging everyone from afar.
She smiles politely at Jenson as he puts his hand on your lower back. She tries not to scowl at you as you hand her the dish of pasta salad. You know she thinks you look like a slut, she’ll definitely run to her friends and tell them about how disgraceful it is that you’ve come into a church community looking like a whore. You smile harder when you think about how Gator has fucked you in his patrol car whilst you wore this dress.
Jenson goes to the grand table in the centre of the hall. As he’s pouring a cup of punch for both of you, he gets accosted by two of Glenda’s friends who take their time complimenting him all the while smirking at you. You feel a presence next to you, you cross your arms to push your tits higher as you turn around.
“Oh, hi Roy, didn’t hear you sneakin’ up on me”. Your grin to him is saccharine and he snarls in response.
“I don’t remember invitin’ you to this, for the church community only. A community you are not part of so it’s time to go”. His voice is gruff and as you go to respond; you see Gator.
You make eye contact across the hall. He looked stressed and then as soon as he saw you; it flickered to what you can only imagine is rage. Glenda is talking away at him and he’s not looking at her. His eyes are trailing up and down your body. He recognises the dress. Jenson obscures your view as he stands in front of you holding out a cup of punch. He wraps his arm around you and whispers lowly in your ear that he’s spiked both of your cups with liquor from his flask. You giggle back at him, get on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his jaw.
Although you think it would be hilarious, you want to avoid an interaction with you, Jenson, Glenda and Gator. At this point, you’re unsure if Gator’s heart could take it. Jenson gets pulled away by Glenda’s friends to help arrange the plates for the potluck dishes and of course he does it. He kisses you before he goes and as your lips touch; your eyes never leave Gator’s.
***
It takes twenty minutes for him to grab your wrist and pull you into an empty room. Everyone is too preoccupied with grabbing plates to notice you both leave.
“Real fuckin’ nice. Comin’ here dressed like a fuckin’ slut and can’t keep your fuckin’ hands off some shitty quarterback. You know what people think of you, right?” He’s in your face, the spit from his lips is hitting your mouth and cheeks. 
He’s so mad.
And, of course, you fucking love it.
“Surprisingly Gator, I don’t give a fuck what your fuckin’ church girl or asshole daddy think of me…I know what you think about me though”. You move in closer to him and he doesn’t try to back away. His eyes bore into yours and you can hear him try to steady his breath. You can imagine his heart thundering away in his chest. You rest your hands on his vest and slowly unzip it.
“You think I’m a good girl. You’ve said it before- remember? You’ve said it when you fucked me in your patrol car…”
Your fingers move to unbutton his shirt.
“You whispered it to me when Glenda was downstairs and you had me on my knees sucking your cock in your daddy’s bathroom…she had no idea we were in there did she?” You giggle lightly as you feel his heart rate thumping quickly under your fingers.
“And you definitely thought I was a good girl that time you fucked my ass in your bed. Remember? We used the handcuffs, I think you called it me a few times…yeah you definitely did. You said I was such a good fucking girl”.
His shirt is half unbuttoned and his chest is basically heaving under the strain of his rapid heartbeat. You can feel his hard dick pressing into you, you smile at him and take a step back.
“I gotta go though, Jenson is probably waiting for me. We’ll probably shoot off soon, he said- he said, ha, that we’d have dessert back at my place. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get lucky tonight…he probably thinks I’m a good girl too. Maybe I can be his good girl from now on”.
He storms past you, his shoulder barging into yours on his way past and for a second, you’re devastated. Maybe you pushed him too far? Are you going to have to wait another four weeks for him to cave.
But he doesn’t leave.
He just locks the door and pushes a table against it as quietly as he can.
***
He grabs your hips and pulls them towards him.
“You fuckin’ feel that right? You feel how fuckin’ hard you make me. I’ve had this since I fuckin’ left your place four weeks ago. I fuckin’ hate you…I’ve fuckin’ missed you”. You’re not sure you would classify it as a kiss, it’s more like he’s shoving his face against yours.
He runs his hand through your hair and grips it; the power of it forces you to open your mouth. You stick your tongue out and give him your best doe eyes. He smirks and nibbles your jaw. Hard but not hard enough to leave any kind of mark. You maintain eye contact as he spits in your mouth. He raises his eyebrows at you and you swallow without objection. He smirks as you open your mouth and stick your tongue back out.
He kisses your neck and bites it lightly as you fight the urge to run your hands through his hair (Heaven forbid you mess up his slicked back hair).
“Baby, we gotta be quick. They might come lookin’ for us” he mumbles against your neck.
You go to bend over the table pushed against the door but Gator stops you before you can flip your dress up to grant him access.
“No baby, I need to see you. Missed your fuckin’ face too much…wanna watch you get e’en prettier when I make you come” 
He kisses you hard as he pushes you down against the table. He gets on his knees in front of you like your pussy is a biblical experience. He kisses your clit through your lace underwear and gently nips it with his teeth. 
“Gator, we don’t have time to tease” you try your hardest not to moan outwardly as you speak. You can’t let him know how much he’s affecting you, even though how wet he’s making you has completely given it away. 
He rips your underwear off and pulls your tits out of your dress. He takes them between his hands and rolls your nipples with his thumb and forefinger. You can hear him mumbling under his breath but you can’t work out what he’s saying. He always gets transfixed with your boobs. 
He doesn’t warn you as he notches his cock into you. You’re wet enough that he slides in with one motion. He’s on your mouth before there’s a chance for a moan to slip out. He thrusts into you slow and deep, he nudges your g spot and your eyes roll back into your head as he slips his tongue into your mouth. 
The only sounds filling the room is the soft rhythmic creak of the wooden table, the steady thrusts of Gator’s cock into you and the stifled moans slipping into each others mouths. It’s all too much, the noises, Gator’s cock perfectly grazing your g spot, his tongue in your mouth and the thought that he’s doing this mere feet away from his daddy and girlfriend. Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and as you squeeze his cock, Gator puts his hand over your mouth and shushes you but he doesn’t stop fucking you. Your eyes roll into the back of his head as you hear him curse above you. This is the most intense sex you’ve ever had with him. 
It is so worth the wait.
You know he’s getting close; he has obvious tells that you could recite perfectly. His left leg starts to twitch, his mouth slightly hangs open and his eyes glaze over. He also either gets sentimental or speaks like he’s in a shitty Brazzers porn video. This time it’s a mix of the two. 
“Take my fuckin’ come, you take it so fuckin’ good. It’s all yours- it’s all yours”. He thrusts hard inside you twice before he stills. He rests his forehead against yours and presses a soft kiss to your lips.  You allow yourself a few seconds to enjoy his tenderness. 
You readjust your dress as Gator moves the table away from the door. You slip on Jenson’s coat as you walk over to the locked door. 
“I meant what I said y’know…I’ve missed you”. Again, you’re back in the routine. You know it well and you can’t deny how much you enjoy it. He’s going to ask to fuck you tonight, he’ll promise that it’ll be special- that’s what he usually says. 
He moves to interlock his pinky finger with yours. 
“Get rid of Jenson and let me come round tonight. Tell him you’re sick or somethin’. I wanna…I mean… I gotta to make it up to you. I’ll tell Glenda that I picked up an extra shift. That gives us all night an’ we can take our time”. 
As you open your mouth to respond, you hear a knock on the door and Jenson’s voice calling out. 
“You in there hon? I think I’m gonna head out…really fancy dessert. Y’know, if you catch my drift”. 
*** 
You tell Jenson in the car that you’re not feeling well. He’s a good guy and offers to stay and look after you. When you say no, he asks for a coffee date later this week and you agree.
As you see his reverse out of your driveway; you text Gator that he can come round if he’s here in the next hour. 
He’s back in your bed in less than forty minutes.
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uriekukistan · 4 months
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In Defense of Shoko in 261
to be so honest, i’m really doing my best not to come off angry while talking about this. but to me this conversation is not just about shoko, but about the way women are treated in media, and especially in shounen manga in general.
people are upset about the way shoko reacted, or rather didn’t react, to yuuta’s plan because it seemed too unemotional and uncaring. if she had shown emotion or protested, people would still be upset because she would be seen as unable to do the necessary thing in a time of crisis due to her feminine emotions or whatever.
this is the dilemma of not just female characters, but real life women. there’s never a right reaction.
additionally i feel that some of the things being said about her are expecting her to only exist as support for gojo, and not as her own character, which i see way too often with female characters in shounen manga.
in any case, i stand by my cancelled wife, and here’s my defense of her. spoilers below the cut.
Since when has Shoko ever been outwardly emotional like that?
if shoko is upset about yuuta using gojo’s body as a weapon, there is just no way she would outwardly object or show any signs that she’s upset. that’s not who she is and she’s shown that. there have been several times where she’s not displayed the emotion one would expect from her, so why would that change now?
when shoko sees geto, one of her closest friends, if not her closest, for the first time after finding out that he massacred an entire village, you would expect her to be feeling a slew of emotions. maybe confusion, maybe anger, maybe hurt, maybe betrayal. maybe even concern for her friend.
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but shoko acts like it’s no big deal at all. she’s just seeing her close friend on a regular day. because she’s not the type to get outwardly emotional. whatever she’s feeling right now is kept somewhere else entirely, far away from the surface.
additionally, in the scene where everyone got frustrated that gojo didn’t react about nanami, we have this from shoko.
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talking about geto. not reacting. guys shoko is just not a reactive person like that, and that’s totally fine. a lot of people are like this (including myself but thats not the point)
but that doesn’t mean the emotions don’t exist, or that shoko has no way of reacting or coping or showing that she’s going through anything at all. one way is through smoking.
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smoking is something shoko picks up again before the shibuya incident, when the entire jujutsu world is growing more stressed with the increased presence of special grades, particularly the disaster curses, the incident at the goodwill event…and at shibuya, the situation was very high stress, yet she keeps a cool demeanour. the only sign that she’s upset at all is that every time she’s shown, she’s smoking.
the only times we’ve seen shoko’s feelings, it’s been completely internal. the most notable being this scene:
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this is the most emotional we’ve ever seen shoko, and if you’ll notice, she’s completely alone.
shoko keeps her feelings well hidden from everyone, so it’d be completely against her character to outwardly show if she was upset by yuuta’s plan.
Since when has Shoko shied away from questionable medical/jujutsu practices?
shoko was eager to dissect yuuji after he “died” like it was some sort of science project and not a human being…please note im saying this as a completely neutral statement, this is not to say whether shoko is a good or bad person, just that she is and how she is.
sure, it’s a bit questionable that she’s looking at a dead teenager on her table and wondering what information she can get out of him, but at the same time, there could be useful information in yuuji’s biology that shows what makes him a successful vessel, at least as far as shoko is aware. useful knowledge that could be used to find another suitable vessel to continue killing sukuna’s power, one finger at a time.
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she even says to gojo “who do you think i am?” when he tells her to make her examination of yuuji worth it, implying that this is a trait that those around her are aware of.
she’s practical and methodical, logically thinking rather than emotionally thinking, but most importantly, she’s not the type to display her feelings.
she’s exactly the type to understand the reasoning behind yuuta’s plan and accept it as a logical last ditch effort, and she’s also the type to store her true feelings about it away to process over a cigarette (or several) at a more convenient time. asking her to do anything else would be asking her to change as a character.
i hope this doesn’t come across as me being unsympathetic to gojo’s dehumanization and being turned into a weapon, i think it’s upsetting for sure (but i respect the narrative choice, i think it’s an interesting way to bring out themes). mostly, i think that shoko, both by the narrative and by the fandom, is only perceived in geto & gojo’s shadow, and i wanted to draw attention to her as a person.
i’m sick of reading the “shoko’s a cold-hearted traitor” comments on different platforms bc i think it’s not true, and i think asking her to act differently removes her autonomy as a character and forces her to be nothing but a supporting role to gojo, rather than her own character.
hopefully this makes some sense dkskld
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mintmatcha · 5 months
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Inevitable Things: chapter five
Aizawa x reader fic
cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)
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Fridays are the only day you carve out time for lunch. Less than coincidentally, Fridays are also the only day lunch is catered.
“Here-” Izuku jams his bowl of take out into Katsuki’s face. “Does it smell like there’s peanuts in here?”
Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku’s fiance, is only half as ornery as he looks. A premature wrinkle has formed in between his brows, a sign of his almost constant annoyance. His straw colored hair is a sharp contrast to his deep red eyes, currently narrowed in disgust.
“Get this shit out of my fucking face,” he groans. “I’m not a fucking allergy alert dog-- I can’t smell peanuts.”
“To be fair-” Ochako interjects through a mouthful. She’s the opposite of Katsuki: dark hair, round eyes, a smile so sweet that it makes your teeth hurt. Her cheeks are always flushed, spots of broken blood vessels spattered like freckles. “Peanuts do have a smell.”
“Did you ask him to smell for penis?” Denki says, too loud to be genuine. “Kind of homophobic to ask a gay guy that.”
Both men give him identical deadpan stares.
“That’s just his fucking country-ass accent.” Katsuki brushes Denki off and turns back to the curly haired man. “Why would chicken have peanuts in it anyway?”
“The o’l.” Izuku stresses.
“The what?”
“Some places use peanut o’l.”
“Say oil.”
Izuku sneers a bit in return, smoothing out the curves of his accent. “Oy-I’ll.”
“Jesus christ, I’m marrying a hick.” Katsuki leans back in his chair and meets your eye with a jerk of his chin. “Can you believe this?”
You snap back into focus. Your own lunch is untouched, fork still in its little plastic wrapper. Hunger nips at your stomach, but nausea wins over today. The cafeteria isn’t very busy, but in the next couple minutes everyone will start pouring in. The lot of you arrived early to get the best seating-- a little couch and coffee table in the corner, a perfect place to eat and people watch.
“Oh, yeah, uh- Izuku, they have an allergen free option.”
“Well, yeah, but-” He tilts his head as he talks, watching you with those wide, green eyes, like he sees something just below the surface. “It doesn't have chicken-- are you good?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Katsuki fingers a piece of Izuku’s food and pops it into his mouth, much to the man’s dismay. “You’ve been making that sad little face all day.”
You pout a bit harder at that. Shit-- you thought you were being subtle. You haven’t been able to walk this whole Aizawa thing off yet, despite all of your attempts. No amount of emails, meetings, and other petty office bullshit managed to distract you from the absolute shock and humiliation of… whatever that was.
Embarrassment.
Embarrassment? You’re certainly not the prettiest girl in the office, but embarrassing? That makes your gums ache, like a punch to the nose, and it makes you feel dirty, like the fall to the ground afterwards.
“You’re doing it again.” Ochako points to your face and it’s apparently sadness. “What’s going on?”
You hem a bit, before condensing it the best you can.
“I’m having issues with a guy.” What an understatement.
A collective glance is shared between the group.
“Touya again?”
Again, Touya haunts a room he’s never been in. You debate what to say. If you admit to it being someone new, they might start sniffing around and jump to conclusions-- though Aizawa would certainly be the last assumption they would make, you still can’t risk it. Besides, you don’t need a gaggle of 23 year olds dissecting your every move. They’re going to jump to some stupid conclusion, like you’re dating Toshinori, if you aren’t careful.
“Yeah, it’s Touya,” you lie, as sheepishly as you can. “Oops.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard that you imagine his brain must hurt. “Again?”
“Shh, just tell us what happened,” Izuku urges, elbowing his partner rather sharply.
“I don't know where I stand with him. It's so-- Ugh, I thought things were going to start going well and then it was just ice cold.” You press your palms into your eyes and sigh. The pressure feels good and helps with the remnants of your hangover. You need an electrolyte drink, stat. Maybe another fucking drink too. “And I’m not even sure why I’m surprised because it’s ice cold a lot.”
When you look up, Ochako is offering a hand, palm up and open. When you take it, she giggles a bit, squeezing gently.
“I think you need to prioritize yourself.”
Denki nods in agreement, cheeks stuffed with food. He’s finished his meal and started stabbing bits of yours. You just push the whole bowl towards him in defeat and slump down into the couch.
“Stop giving men who treat you poorly the time of day.” Ochako says. “When you let them in again and again, you’re basically, like, giving them permission to do this stuff.”
“Yeah!” Denki says through a mouthful. “Cut that fucker off! Don’t even talk to him!”
“Oh, I dunno--” You glance between them. “I think that’d be mean.”
Conflict makes your head spin. It’s so much easier to roll over and take whatever people give you, negative or otherwise. It’s what made your relationship with Touya work-- and it’s what’s allowed you to stay in this job for so long.
“Good!” Denki says. “He deserves it.”
“You deserve to be a little mean and a little angry when people treat you poorly.” She smiles again, wider this time. “Grow some balls. Stand up for yourself.”
“Yeah! Balls!” Denki agrees.
You suck on your bottom lip and turn the idea over in your head. Are you even angry at Aizawa? Or just hurt and confused? Right now, those things may as well be the same thing-- they certainly burn the same in your chest. Cruelty isn’t your usual indulgence…
But it’s someone else’s.
“What do you think?” You turn to Katsuki, who’s been scrolling through twitter for a bit now. His face doesn’t change when he speaks, locked into a general annoyance.
“I think you should kill that fucker.”
You turn to Izuku, the rational one of the couple. He shrugs, straw in mouth and completely unamused.
“Oh, I also think you should kill him,” he says, tone matching Katsuki’s.
Not helpful.
“Listen--” Katsuki leans forward, elbows on his spread knees. He uses a fork to articulate as he speaks. “I’m the expert on being a cunt-”
“-we don’t use that word!” Ochako grimaces.
“And it’s the most freeing and addictive thing you can be.” The tongs of the fork point directly towards you, as sharp as his gaze. “More people should be cunts more often. The world would be a happier place.”
Ochako gasps. “I don’t agree with that at all!”
“Oh please, miss goody-goody,” Katsuki sneers. “You wouldn't need to go to kickboxing five times a week if you let your anger out day to day like a normal motherfucker.”
The girl of the group puffs out her cheeks, but does not argue back. Izuku pats her shoulder affectionately. His food is still untouched, but his free hand guards it from Denki.
“I'm telling you. Try it out. You’ll like it.” Katsuki leans back into his seat. “Or don't. Your life.”
“Question-” The other blonde pipes up. “Did you, like, do something?”
“Kaminari!”
“I mean, like, was there a catalyst?” “A fight or a date or-?”
You know exactly what drives Touya away everytime, but Aizawa is a new beast. Did you breathe wrong or--
“Oh, I uh,” A realization hits you. “I ignored a couple texts, I guess.”
Suddenly, you’re very aware of the outline of your phone and how it presses into your pocket. If there wasn’t a chance of you flashing the group pictures of their boss, you’d check it immediately, but you can’t mentally handle the risk.
“What an overreaction,” Ochako sighs. “Dump him forever and move on-- Mr. Hizashi and his wife-”
“We aren’t like that.” Ugh. You love Hizashi, but the trio relationship isn’t your speed. “Besides, I don’t like blondes.”
The two toe-heads of the group roll their eyes in a practiced synchrony. Ochako’s smile changes a little bit, something tighter and brighter; is she excited that you aren’t interested? Interesting and a bit gross: she’s too young for that. They’re more than ten years older than her-
(How old is Aizawa? He went to school with Hizashi, so he’s at least 38-- but you could have sworn there were whispers of his fortieth last year. You’ll have to snoop.)
“We’re in agreement. Be a cunt, move on. The end.” Katsuki turns away from you, done with this topic. “Izuku, just fucking eat it already.”
The boy takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his curly hair. “Well, alright, but if I get hives, you’re the one who has to deal with me.”
Be mean.
You’re written it on a sticky note and placed it under your computer monitor, like some sort of fucked up mantra. The mere idea of it feels antithetical to who you are at your core; you enjoy helping people, you love making the world better. That’s why you work like a dog for the company-- you know it’s improving the lives of its customers. If Toshinori wasn’t sick, you know he’d be doing even more too.
On the other hand, being nice has led to your own detriment many times. Touya has hurt you, your parents, and now even Aizawa. And you can’t even blame Aizawa, can you? Texting him was your mistake--
You rest your forehead against your desk. There’s still a sticky spot from when you spilled your coffee yesterday. God, yesterday feels so close and yet so far away. How does a man yoyo between yelling at you, sending you his weiner, then telling you that you’re embarrassing? The idea of ‘always wanted you’ goes flying out the window.
Just as you try and put yourself to work, you hear it. The familiar lopsided stomp. Fuck, it’s him, probably looking for his afternoon coffee. He’s been by much less than usual, a fact you’re very grateful for, so you haven’t even thought about the pot since before lunch. You glance over and see it’s empty. Crap.
As you start to get up, the sticky note catches your eye again. Be mean. That’s right. Why are you popping out of your chair for this, this, this--- total fucking cunt? Your chair squeaks with the force you sit down with. You try to embody Katsuki with your face - furrowing your brow and yet keeping your mouth unaffected-- and your worst nightmare turns the corner.
You keep typing and hope Aizawa doesn't notice that it's the same words over and over again, hit in the same rhythm. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. He waits a long moment, then clears his throat louder. You don't gift him your attention until he grumbles something under his breath, shifting his weight on to his other leg. Just as he begins to say something, you interject.
“I had more important things to focus on,” you lie. “You can figure out how to brew coffee, Mr.// Engineer.”
You throw in that last bit without thinking, but the bite rolls so easily off of your tongue. It’s nothing like your usual tone, but it feels so, so right. From the corner of your vision you can see his literally reel back, blinking hard,
“That’s how it’s going to be?”
You don’t respond. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. Your fingers shake from the adrenaline boost. Ochako was right; don't even give this man the time of day.
“It's going to be like that?” He yanks the pot from its stand. “Fine.”
You have to muster all of willpower not to grin as he starts slamming open the drawers and scrounging around for supplies. It takes a whole ten minutes before he presses brew, then another five before the pot is almost half full. The whole time he grumbles to himself, leaning his whole weight against the flimsy table.
This is good. Too good. The vindictive rush of power feels almost sexual in the way it satisfies. Teeth dig into your lip as you hold back a smile even harder.
Embarrassment? You'll show him what embarrassment really means.
Finally, he pours himself a cup. He doesn't fill his thermos nearly as much as he normally does, most likely trying to leave as quickly as possible. Just as he starts to turn, you get up out of your chair and walk over. You take one of the little disposable cups from the stack and take your time adding three sugars and two cream, each one at a time, as he lurks there. Then, you pour the coffee, thick and oddly gritty into your cup. You finally meet his eye when you take a swig.
Aizawa’s face is set hard, small eyes narrowed even tighter. His lips are screwed up with annoyance, wrinkling his low bridged nose. Pissed would be an understatement. Just as you brace for another yelling match, he turns away, marching down the hall.
“Enjoy the fucking coffee.”
Oh, Katsuki was right. Being mean tastes good.
….This coffee, however, does not.
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mattsautumn · 2 months
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Pissed off - Matt Sturniolo
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Summary; Matt is pissed off about y/n going to a party, but will she make it up to him?
Warnings; Sex, oral (!male receiving), swearing, use of y/n, idk what else.
A/N; THANK ALL SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 100 FOLLOWERS!! it means a lot, i love you all!!
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Matt barely had any bad days, but if he had one he would be pissed off. Most of the times when it would happen, you and him would argue and later forget about it, but now it was different. You went out with some friends and you didn’t tell Matt. Eventually a friend of you posted a picture online and he saw it. He didn’t like this, so he started ignoring you.
You walk into his room, noticing he’s busy with his playstation. It’s clear that he’s angry at you.
“Matt? Hey..” you speak up. His fingers clench the mouse tightly, his face red with anger.
“Im sorry for what i did okay..?”
He pauses the game and turns to face you, his eyes blazing with jealousy. “You think it's okay to just disappear without a word?” He says. You sigh, not knowing what to say.
His voice is low and dangerous, barely contained rage simmering just below the surface. “Did you even think about me once? Did you ever consider that maybe I might want to know where you are? That maybe I might be worried about you?” His hands ball into fists at his sides.
“Im sorry, i should’ve told you.” You apologize. He scoffs, not mollified in the least. “Sorry? That's it? Don't you think you owe me more than just a sorry?” He shifts in his seat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “So where did you go?” He asks.
“Jim’s party.” You admit. Jim was someone you both knew from high school and he wasn’t exactly matt’s favorite. His eyes narrow, his jealousy turning into anger. “Jim's party? And why didn't you tell me?” He stands up, towering over you, the rage visible in every line of his body. “Are you trying to hurt me on purpose? Is that it?”
“No matt! I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to have fun..”
A deep breath leaves his mouth. He’s trying to control his anger, but it's clear that he's still upset. “You wanted to have fun? And you couldn't even spare a thought for me? Was it really that hard to send a text?” His voice is tense with frustration.
“im sorry.. can i make it up to you, please?” You beg. Matt sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he sits back down. “Fine. What do you want to do?”
A smirk forms on your face as you sink to your knees in-front of him. His eyes flicker down to you, and he raises an eyebrow at your sudden closeness. “What are you doing?”
“Oh you know.. just.. this.” You say as you unbuckle his belt. His breath hitches as he watches you. “Oh, I see. You want to play that game, huh?” He leans back in his seat, letting you continue unbuckling his belt before he reaches down and brushes a hand through your hair.
You take off his belt, pants and underwear until his cock is in-front of you, fully erect. He lets out a soft sigh as you remove his pants and underwear, revealing his bare legs. He looks down at you, his eyes darkening with desire. “Alright, let's see how you plan on making it up to me.” He spreads his legs slightly, inviting you to sit between them.
You suck on his slit, making him shudder at the first touch of your tongue and letting out a soft gasp. He threads his hands through your hair, holding you close as you continue licking. “Y-yes, just like that...” He lets out a soft moan, his hips twitching slightly as you continue. A groan escapes his mouth as he leans his head back in pleasure as you take him fully into your mouth. He grips the arms of his chair tightly, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to move your mouth. “Ah, fuck... that's so good..”
You pump your head up and down his cock, determined to make him cum. He thrusts his hips up into your mouth, moaning loudly as he gets closer and closer to climax. He can't help but grip your hair tighter, rolling his head back in ecstasy. “God, yes... oh fuck, I'm gonna cum...” he moans out.
You keep going and going.
He suddenly bursts into a loud, desperate cry, his entire body shaking as he cums hard in your mouth. He grips your hair so tightly it almost hurts as he thrashes in his chair, his cum shooting down your throat in thick, hot spurts. “Fuck! Oh fuck!”
As he comes down from his high, you pull back, happy with your work. He collapses back in his chair, panting heavily as he looks at you with a dazed expression. He's still gripping your hair tightly, his heart racing from the intense orgasm. “H-holy shit...” He finally releases your hair, running a hand through it instead.
“Was that good, baby? You still mad?” You ask him. He looks at you with a mix of annoyance and satisfaction, his chest still heaving from his orgasm. “I'm still mad, but...” He trails off, his gaze drifting back to your mouth. “Maybe not as mad as I was before.”
“Do i need to show you again how sorry i am?” You look up at him, smiling innocently. He looks down at you with a smirk, his chest still heaving slightly. “i dont think im able to take it.”
“Oh we’ll see about that.” You say, biting your lip.
And that, that was the most memorable moment ever.
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yalllll i love this! Make sure to follow me for more<3
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minsyal · 5 months
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Until the End
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader
SPOILER WARNING!! This has A LOT of spoilers for the next season of the show.
Summary: Aemond informs his wife of his impending battle. (Sorry if it’s kinda bad, just an idea after I read the book and I mean, he’s dreamy in a troubled kinda way.)
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“A fortnight, then.”
Flame-lit logs crackled within the stone hearth, answering her words like a captivated audience. The murmur of gossiped tripe ached in her bones the same way it had since the beginning of her husband’s family affairs.
“I thought it right to tell you.” He replied with mixed emotion in his tone.
Ignoring him, she focused herself on the fiery embers as they rose upward, disappearing beyond the chimney’s base. Shades of bursting orange and flickering crimsons cast dramatic shadows across the contours of her warming skin. A rose blush crept onto her cheeks, and yet she pulled her shawl further around her shoulders.
“She is pregnant.” It would have been a question if not for the glaring truth of it all strewn upon his face. “Heavily pregnant.”
There was a distinct hesitance in the words that passed his lips next. He wondered if she had known all along; perhaps he had not hidden his affairs to the extent of his thoughts. Anyone with eyes or ears would have known. Yet, he had convinced himself that out of everyone it would not be she who held disbelief in his alignment.
“My love,” his words died as her anger erupted and flowed slowly from the tenseness of her shoulders.
“Do not.” Bitter as a soured fruit, her words were cut from her tongue. He opened his mouth to speak but was hushed by her calm rage. “If those words should ever leave you again, you will not have a tongue. I have dedicated myself to you, my life, my cause, everything.” She wouldn’t meet his eye. “You have no right to speak to me in such a manner. So, I only implore you for this and this only. When is the child due and will it be you who claims it as your own?”
Their relationship had never been a tumultuous one. Often they sailed upon smooth waters, their portage was met with clear skies and an outlook on the vast openness that was their journey together. But something was always lurking just below its surface. While his anger came in outbursts and pointed attacks, hers was more subtle and subdued. Her ferocity slithered beneath her exterior, only showing itself in passive quips, sharp words, and the intense avoidance of her gaze.
In truth, she was never more than a passing glance. Her beauty was outshined by that of her mother or even that of her grandmother. While desirable, she was often overlooked in a room of people. She was an always present individual, even if it were only physical and not of heart and mind. Countless times she was given grandiose offers for her hand by the endless barrage of scrambling lords who wanted to better their position and house’s prestige. Countless times she would hear whispers of their denials and the subsequent mild rage that seethed from the men’s bodies who were often more than twice her age. Even those who had attempted to court her mother in her blooming years had thought it right to do the same to her, expecting a different outcome. But it was their mistake, for they did not realize she was promised to another.
“I cannot give you information I do not have.”
His fingernails, though cut short and clean, dug crescents into the palms of his hands.
“Then you will contest it? You will deny to me in this instant that her child is yours? You will tell me that you have not taken her to your bed?”
“I can tell you whatever you would like to hear, my love. But I cannot promise the truth to my word.”
“Then I do not wish to hear it.” She sighed, but in a way that oozed resentment opposed to one of defeat. “Leave me.”
The weight of his stare pushed harshly against the vibrancy of her being. It swirled around in the air like smoke and ash, threatening to envelop her whole and take her to darkness. “I will not.” He defied her demand, standing firm just steps away from where she had positioned herself to watch the burning wood that warmed the room.
“You will do as I demand and leave me.” His steps were heavy as he drew closer, halted by her speaking once more. “Leave me.” The veins of her neck were strained, pumping blood viciously to her face causing it to blush a shade of pink. Yet, she continued to not meet his eye.
Even when he laid his hands upon her shoulders and shook her body wholly, she flouted her vision and expelled him from her line of view. He gripped her frantically, grasping at her upper and lower arms as he searched her for a semblance of the woman he knew.
“Look at me!” He repeated, growing more and more discontented. The pupils of his lilac eye vacillated from a pin-prick to an endless abyss. “I command you to look at me!”
It was almost childish. The two of them battled in distinctly different ways. He let his anger bubble to the surface and spill from his edges, while she preferred to not give people the satisfaction of seeing her hurt. They were both terribly flawed in their processes.
“Look at me!” He was yelling now.
“You cannot command anything of me.” She refused, choosing to focus on the golden clasps of his tunic that had been marred in dried brown blood. Whose, she did not know, but the sight of it left a poor taste upon her tongue.
“I can. You forget your place in the hierarchy.” His gloved fingers burnt against her skin. “Allow me to remind you,” he lowered his chin to rest upon her shoulder where his words vibrated from his chest to hers, “I am your lord husband and you are my lady wife. I am prince regent, my word is law.”
She could feel his resolve softening slightly as the steady beating of her heart and the softness of her breasts soothed his rugged rage. She could give in. She could allow him to coax her back to the ground where his iron heart kept him planted to the solid surface. There were many things she could have done and she chose the worst of them. All the hurt he had put her through was festering in her stomach, twisting and turning her insides in a wild rage. He had killed her brother and cousin, waged war against her mother and step-father, and kept her concealed within the Red Keep until they could be sure of her alignment. To top it all off, he had defiled her trust in him as a partner. He had taken another woman to bed.
“You cannot command anything of me as your command comes from your false claim to the throne.”
A crack in her voice was the only emotion in her words.
“You wear the conqueror’s crown yet have conquered nothing except for a common whore.”
He pushed himself backward in a way that did not use her body to project him so. Her feet remained planted and firm, unswaying in the storm that brewed in his chest.
Thundering and electrifying below the surface, he writhed in the sheets she had laid out before him in the bed he had made himself. He aimed to hurt. Taunting was his warfare and striking words were his blade.
“At the very least, my Alys can bear me children whereas you have failed at your only responsibility to me.” He took a step backward and composed himself, lifting his jaw and peering at her from the top of his cheek. Only when she finally brought her eyes to his did he turn it back down to stare down the bridge of his nose. “A fortnight, then.”
He turned on his heel and left his wife alone with her thoughts. If he had stayed a moment longer, he would have seen her shoulders tremble and her hand coast along the bodice of her gown. All the pain of his words was on display in her glassy eyes. All the rejection of his movements slowly burnt the bridge that connected them.
On day thirteen she remained locked in her chambers, hiding amongst the quilted sheets of her bed. No handmaiden or guard dare bother her and any movement on her behalf would have been reported to the prince who lingered on the grounds.
She only saw the moonlight on days twelve and eleven, waking from fitful dreams to an empty bed. Aemond had not warmed her sheets for months, constantly gone to battle and in the arms of another.
She emerged from her silken cocoon on day ten, wrapping herself in a black shawl before lingering in front of the fire for the remainder of the day. Homely sounds of her nieces and nephews pattering feet, her grandmother's anxious words, and the general organized chaos of the castle were ghosts in her ears. The room where she stayed now was not home. It was a prison. At first she thought it loving of her husband to take her to safety, to conceal her away from the battles. But the longer she remained, the more she grew to resent him.
On day nine, she was served a brothy soup that smelled of fresh thyme and flavored oil. It settled uncomfortably in her stomach and the heart of her meal was left in the bowl to chill in the midnight air.
It wasn’t until day eight that she finally stepped back into the land of the living where nothing had changed from the way she left it days prior. A guard noted her exit and promptly left, likely gone to alert the prince of her movements. A handmaiden, no older than she, guided her through the corridors, careful to not lead her in the direction of her husband’s new chambers.
“My lady, the prince requests you join him in his study.”
She continued past the guard who had been sent to summon her, her feet carrying her in the opposite direction.
The gardens were mild and temperate with summer flowers in bloom that seemed to cascade like waterfalls down the sides of the castle’s old stone walls. Colors of vibrant blues and pearlescent white were sprinkled about, contrasted by the brilliant deep green of the growing ivy.
Her handmaiden kept two steps behind her, occasionally picking a fallen leaf or petal out of the dress’s train. Otherwise, the two walked in a calming silence until she returned to her chambers for the remainder of the night.
On the seventh day, a sennight until her husband's battle, she woke to a bouquet of fresh heliotropes. They were all shades of purple, some amethyst and others deep like obsidian. She did not need to ponder long who they had come from. They were the same flower that adorned the Red Keep’s great hall on the day they wed. Eternal love was symbolized in the flower’s petals, but the definition of eternal seemed to end in the sheets of Harrenhal.
On the sixth day, she again spent her time awake in the middle of the night. Her room in the Holdfast overlooked some of the gardens where only guards patrolled at this late hour. However, she was not in the Holdfast. Dragonstone had become her new home. She sat in the window, a velvet shawl draped over her shoulders, bathing in the moonlight. There was vastly more to see here. From her perch, she could see the grounds below, a small village, and the empty ocean that reminded her of her father.
She wondered what her mother was doing. After being locked within the Red Keep, she lost all contact with the outside world. Any news of the war was only fed to her though eavesdropping either on maids or her cousins. It was rare for her to think about the consequences of her family’s actions, but with nothing else to distract her, her mind wandered. When she arrived in Dragonstone it got worse. All news of the war stopped as if everyone had been instructed to keep it a secret from the princess.
She thought back to the day she was told she was to marry her cousin. Her mother had taken her into the gardens and walked with her for hours. The two walked endlessly through the ivy and wisteria, eventually making their way into the less traveled pathways. Rhaenyra told her that she was betrothed and from that day forward she took her duties as a wife very seriously.
Until the day Rhaenyra and Laenor left for Dragonstone, she was counseled by the Queen, her grandmother and soon-to-be mother in law. Alicent had taken to the girl like her own daughter. She instilled a deep sense of duty and honor into her moral code, encouraging her to age with grace and the makings of a royal. The young girl enjoyed her time with both her mother and grandmother, but especially the moments she spent with her future husband.
Deep in her heart, she knew the days of married bliss were mere memories she had built with rose-colored glasses. She wondered if they were ever truly happy together.
On the third day, she emerged from her chambers clad in a gown of black and gold. Thick brocade fabric formed soft pleats that barely grazed the ground beneath her feet as she walked. A necklace of gold and sapphire laid delicately against her collarbone. She was tired of playing the part of a broken woman. Whether she liked it or not, she was the first born daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon. Laying down in defeat was not an option on the table.
Again, the prince regent called for his lady wife. Again, she did not heed his request, instead making her way through the halls of Dragonstone where she would eventually find herself standing at the edge of the cranberry bog where small pink flowers swirled together like a sunset sea. Come autumn they would be red fruits, ready to flavor the season.
“You have been avoiding me.”
The voice jostled her from her thoughts.
There, no more than ten feet back, stood her husband. He wore his usual attire, blackened leather with sleeves that came to his wrists. Platinum blonde hair was less tame than usual, wild strands framing his face in a delicate yet dangerous way. The sun glistened against his sapphire eye, matching the way it did against her necklace.
A simple nod in agreement was all she gave. It was easier to turn her back to him and let the past consume her.
“My,” he stopped himself. “I want to talk.”
“Then talk. Nobody is stopping you.”
His body pressed into hers in an intimate way it had not in ages. Long steps drew him near and the warmth of his waist was pressed into her side as he found his footing in the grass. His arms were latched behind his back with one hand cradling his other’s fingers.
“I remember the first time we properly met as betrothed children. You were a child of eight and I, nine. My mother had just denied a proposed betrothal between Helaena and Jacaerys.
My mother proposed a union between us. We were the leftover children, naturally we suited one another. You had just returned from the godswood and we were made to dine together.” The smallest smile tugged at his lips. “You hated every minute of it.”
“As did you.”
“I knew my duty was to you, to be a good husband for you, but I did not know you. Then you moved here. I had tried writing to you on multiple occasions, but the words never came to me naturally. I knew what to write, but without emotion it felt disingenuous. I wanted to be genuine.
However, at nine, I cared little for marriage. I wanted to be stronger, a better swordsman. I wanted a dragon, a true symbol of Targaryen power.
When Laena passed and we met again in Pentos, you were a different person. A year older and entirely different. You were the only one in your family to stand by my side when I was injured. I remember the way you screamed at your brother, telling him it was over and that violence was not the way. The sound of your screaming still rings in my ears as I tried to stop the bleeding. I can still feel your trembling hands as you tore the hems of your dress to give me the fabric. I can see the way your brothers seethed at the sight of it all.”
A breeze brought off the cliff side rustled the ruching of her gown. It had been many years since she thought back to that day. As a child of nine she was far beyond her years of maturity. Some would tell her she was the perfect bride for her husband-to-be. Calm in temper, she would tame the other who was constantly on edge.
“They loathed me for years afterward. My step sisters never quite forgave me.”
“And yet, you remain by my side.”
She laughed bitterly, tucking her chin to her chest as she angled her head away from him. “And yet, I do.”
Hesitancy was not a trait carried by the prince regent. In fact, there had rarely if ever been a time in which he had not displayed a self-assured attitude in every aspect of his life. But in that moment, with an outstretched arm, he hesitantly placed his ungloved hand to the small of her back.
A burst of uncomfortable tension crawled beneath her gown, spreading to her sides and shoulders in a crushing wave. She stiffened, eyes cast downward to the grass. It was only when his fingers, long and nimble, began to rub small circles of familiar softness. He had often done this since their union. Especially so when in the unforgiving presence of her step father and mother who grew to regret agreeing to wed the two.
“Do you regret it?” Aemond asked, his focus now shifted to the side of his wife’s face. He could see the turmoil in her creased brow in the way her eyes squinted and lip upturned. “For even a moment?”
The answer came with a surge of relief and confusion.
“No.”
How could she not regret it, he wondered. For all that he had put her through: the separation from her family, the loss of those closest to her, the grief of miscarriage, and the pain of intense heartbreak stemming from his adultery. He had stolen the comfortable life she lived from her and crumpled it beneath his shoe the moment she was promised to him.
A part of him wanted to shake her as he did a week prior. He wanted to scream and demand a reasonable answer as to why she does not resent the relationship. Every fiber of his being was set aflame with confusion.
“No?” He repeated. The hand placed on her side grasped at her waist to turn her body in his hold. Only when the tip of his finger coaxed her chin from her chest did she meet his gaze.
Wetness pooled at the rims of her eyes, clawing through her lower lashes to stream down her sunken cheeks. She was not one to cry. Even after the loss of her first, she did not publically shed a tear. “No.”
Aemond felt his betrayal, then.
The feeling bubbled in his stomach, churching uncomfortably in a wild whirlpool of emotion. It threatened to come up his throat, leaving long gashes of red hatred in his body. Each tear she shed was like a hole burst in his chest. The iridescent droplets were reminders of his sacred vow broken.
He choked on his response, leaving her an open stage to speak.
“Please, do not choose her over me. I have lost all, I cannot lose you too.”
Whatever was left of his heart shattered as he found his eye glassy, blurring with the same salted tears as hers.
He suddenly pulled her close, his hand smoothing down the back of her head to bring her to his chest. Horrible sobs racked through her body causing her shoulders to quake as his hands desperately tried to soothe her. “Never, my love.”
~*~
“I sent the whore away.” Aemond walked with purpose, coming to stand before his wife who was seated at a table with a steaming cup of tea. His fingers were latched behind his back.
It was two days until his battle was set to take place.
A slight nod was given, gradually turning into a full one as his wife placed her cup down onto the table. “That’s… good. That is good.”
Bile still rose in her throat every time she thought of the woman. Older and more mature than she, Alys Rivers was her name. A common bedwhore from Harrenhal was her occupation and she bore no name of any relevance as she was a bastard. What had been so enticing about her that he would break his sacred vow?
“Your happiness in the situation is lost on me.” The seat across from her was filled with Aemond’s presence as he quickly filled the empty space.
“No.” She interjected. “I am very happy. Truly.”
The storm of emotion in her features said otherwise.
“But something still ails you.”
She got lost in the plumes of steam that rose from her cup, floating into the stagnant air as if being pulled up by strings. “It is nothing. A simple insecurity, not a problem to breathe life into any longer.”
“It is my infidelity, is it not?”
Looking like a child who had been caught out of bed, she folded her hands in her lap and stared at her husband.
“She is a witch.” Aemond stated as if it were a common thing. “She has visions; she sees things in the clouds and flames. I cannot explain it. She used potions to cause my eye to wander.” Holding his wife’s gaze, he slumped his shoulders and let his back arch to rest his forearms on his thighs. “I should have been stronger. I should have seen through that witch-” he grew angrier but she was not sure if it was in truth, “that whore’s facade. I should not have let myself cause you, my beautiful wife, any pain.”
His head slipped into his palms, forehead cradled and fingers tangled in his platinum locks.
“How am I to know your words hold truth?” She watched as Aemond shook his head.
“It was a lapse in my rational judgment. I will always return to you, my love.” In a low strained tone he breathed his words. “She means nothing to me.” But his unwillingness to use her name, Alys, made her doubt his statement.
It did not take long for his wife to thrust herself from her seated position and move to kneel at his side. Her dress collected dust as she lowered herself to peer beneath the curtain of hair that blocked his face.
“She is not our problem now.” Assuring words were what his wife needed to hear, not him. But she could not resist the way he pulled at her heartstrings. “We will move forward together. The war will end and we can find peace in our lives. I am still young, we will find a way to bring healthy children into our lives.”
Conflict, she found, was not a flattering color to bathe in. There was nary a time that the Targaryen dynasty did not partake in one form of insanity or another. It was written in their fates to continually live in turmoil. Even those that tried to keep peace sprouted seeds of distress in their descendants or amongst their people.
Aemond and the princess were no exceptions.
They had wed hastily but were able to get through the evening without a duel or death. Viserys II’s health was failing him. Though able to walk still, he struggled in his everyday life. The princess was sent from Dragonstone to Kings Landing where she had a quick ceremony that her direct family did not attend. This attributed to her feelings for her husband. She found comfort in his presence. He was there when others were not.
Her life felt as if it were out of her control. From the moment she was brought into her cruel world others were planning her future and she was locked in her gilded cage. With Aemond, she felt like she was in control. Though the truth in that could be debatable.
They laid together that night for the first time in many and possibly the last. Memories of brighter times had been shared as they basked in the afterglow, lit by only the moon. He had more scars than she remembered. While still lean and pale, cuts of bright pink and burnt auburn were spliced across his torso. Distinct claw marks were marred into his shoulder blades, reminders of his infidelity.
It was almost as if they could talk to her as she counted them in the moonlight. Aemond had turned in his sleep, his back to her. Displayed like an open canvas, she couldn’t help but find her mind shrouded by hurt and anger again as the name burst into her ears. Alys Rivers, the whore, the bedmate, the bastard, and the woman who caught her husband’s wandering eye. She cringed as she tried to picture her. Surely she at least had wrinkles. There had to be a flaw to her appearance. As hard as the princess tried, she could only picture a woman of beauty.
Lost in her insecurities, she had not noticed that Aemond had turned over and now studied his wife’s face as it twisted and contorted. He knew what was troubling her. Instead of lying, telling her that Alys was a horrid woman, he said nothing and took her into his arms. Crushing her in his embrace, he held her like it would be the last time he could. He memorized her shape, her smell, her warmth and her love. His eyes closed and he rested his chin atop her head.
“I love you.” He whispered into the night, unsure if she heard him or not as her chest rose and fell like a metronome keeping a beat. “I love you.” He repeated, holding her tight as he willed himself to sleep knowing what was to come the next day.
~~~*~~~
“Stay.”
Her hand caught his as he made his way toward Vhaegar, dressed in his charcoal armor. The helm was down, concealing his face within.
“Aemond, please.”
The full grasp on his wrist halted him in his tracks. The beast let out a low grumble, growing impatient as its rider stood motionless on the cliff side. A gentle breeze blew in, bringing with it salted air that watered her tongue.
“I will return.” Assurance in the face of death was just words on the breeze, taken far away before they could drop like seedlings and plant themselves in her mind.
“Whole and alive with a beating heart or in memory?”
His hand, though covered in a thick leather glove, came to rest upon her cheek. The other pulled the visor of his shining helm up to reveal his contrasting eyes. “Do you doubt my abilities, my love?”
“Not for one moment.”
His palm pressed against her cheek, lingering longer than he intended as she leaned into his touch. Lashes fanned across her skin, fluttering softly as her lips pressed into a fine line, holding back whatever emotion was within.
“I will return. I vowed to protect you, until my very last day. That day will not be today.” Though he could not press his lips to hers, he drew her in close, holding her firmly against him. “Wait by the ocean until the sun dips below the horizon. I will be here by your side the moment the world is cast into darkness.” He held her back, staring deeply into her eyes. “I promise, my love. I will return.”
She cried as he turned and mounted Vhaegar. Tears streamed from her reddened eyes as he waved her off with another proclamation of his return. Even the frightful blasts of warm summer air could not dissuade the constant river that bled onto her cheeks.
It was late when her sobs ceased and the whisper of prayer died on her lips. The protective light of the day had fled from the sky leaving her cast in darkness and broken promises. Her knees had formed deep grooves in the fine sand where they landed hours before. Fists full of earth could not move the clock backward. Aemond was lost to the wind.
Grief kept her going in the deep midnight hours as she gazed into the distance where Westeros lied. Every speck in the sky had her heart beating faster than before. Each turned out to be nothing. It was only when the morning came and the world continued forward that she moved from her spot. The tide had brought water in around her thighs, soaking her dress through.
She ached like nothing else in the following days. It was as if she could feel every wound her husband had endured. Her dreams were haunted all the same. Blue eyes stared at her through the misty haze that rolled in. Aemond filled her thoughts. At night, she could see him in the darkness looming in the corner of her room.
Word of his death eventually made it to Dragonstone. Mention of his Alys occupying Harrenhal was floated by the guards. How he had brought her to the battle, kissed her passionately, and died in the skies only posed as daggers thrust into her heart.
It wasn’t until years later that Aemond returned to Dragonstone, to his wife. Though, she did not greet him on the beach. She met him in the crypts, sealed away in stone tombs left to collect dust.
She had died of a chill in 133 AC, taking her final breaths on that same sandy beach.
Although not by his doings, he had kept his promise. Brought back in a box of black and red sealed tight with dark metal, Aemond was laid to rest at his wife’s side.
I will return.
248 notes · View notes
cinnaleaf · 11 days
Text
ESSENCE OF US - CH 4: YOU, ME, US*
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Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 3 HERE | MASTERLIST | READ CH 5 HERE
summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.
warnings: extreme fluff, SMUT, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), language, implied anxiety genre: fluff, angst, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~6.5k a/n: y/n did a number on this man, he's enamored! i wanted to evoke every emotion with this one. hopefully it worked bc i had to dig deep in my feels for this.
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You were already awake when Camille barged in, coffee in hand with a grin plastered across her face. The scent of jasmine filled the room from some flowers Trent sent earlier; the jasmine flower was woven intricately into the stems of a garden rose bouquet, curling through the air like a gentle reminder of him. It made your heart race every time you caught a whiff, butterflies enveloping your body as you tried to think of anything other than match day. “Okay mystery girl,” Camille announced as she plopped onto your couch without hesitation. “How are we feeling about being in WAG territory?” You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch cushion, “Ughhh, you’re not helping Camille. I’m not a WAG!” You took a sip of coffee, biting your lip as the feeling of uncertainty twisted around in your stomach. “I don't know if I'm ready for all of this. It's a lot.” Camille stood up, giving you her full attention, “Real talk, if you can survive running a business then you can survive this. You're the most capable person I know.”
You smiled nervously, “It's just...different. Everything is so intense. It's happening so fast.” Camille raised a brow, her curiosity growing. “Okay..I gotta know. How did this even start? You didn't tell me you knew him already!” You exhaled, setting your coffee aside as you explained the story in full detail, Camille's eyes widened in disbelief. “Your meet-cute with TAA happened on a train?? Why the fuck was he on a train?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “It was completely random..and then it took me so long to realize it was him. He said he just wants to be like everyone else.” Camille's jaw dropped, “So, he could have a private jet and he just... chooses to be on the train? That's kind of hot.” You rolled your eyes, but the nerves still lingered below the surface. “Yeah but..I just—I don't knowww. I feel like I'm getting swept up in it because it feels like a fairytale.”
Camille sat back down, leaning in as her expression softened with her trademark sass. “Y/N, you've bumped into this man three different times in two different countries. Sometimes you just gotta ride the wave. But…” she paused, raising a finger, “keep your head on straight, yeah? From what I know, Trent's great but he's still a baller at the end of the day.. so, no tripping head over heels immediately. Just see where it goes if that’s what you really want.” You smiled, still feeling the weight of the situation clinging to you. “Ugh, but what if it's too good to be true?” Camille shrugged, giving you a no nonsense look. “Maybe, maybe not. You can still see where it goes. Worst case scenario? You have some crazy stories you can use as inspiration for a new line. Best case? Liverpool’s most gorgeous WAG.”
The nerves in your stomach were hard to shake as you settled into your seat with Camille. The weight of Trent's name on your back felt heavier than you anticipated, it felt like there was a spotlight shining down on you. You didn't want Camille to catch on to that though.
“Okay Y/N..how are we feeling now?” Camille teased as she nudged your arm. You rolled your eyes, snorting “I'm not feeling anything right now. Just trying not to have a public meltdown.” 
She gave you a side eye as she laughed, “Stop being dramatic and just enjoy the match girl.”
Camille kept cracking jokes to try and soothe your nerves as the match started, it helped, but only for a moment. You felt a rush of excitement watching Trent on the pitch, it was like he was born to be out there. You tried so hard to focus on him and the game, but every time you caught someone glancing in your direction your nerves spiked again. You leaned toward Camille, keeping your voice low “Do you think anyone’s noticed?”
Camille scanned the crowd, looking around dramatically before turning back to you with a grin. “You're wearing his shirt..in the best section. But nah, you're blending in.” She winked, amused at your discomfort. You placed your focus back on Trent, watching him on the pitch as he sprinted across. Part of you wanted to shout and cheer him on, but the other part of you was still battling the fear of being seen, especially in his shirt. As if the universe decided to dial up the pressure, Trent glanced up into the stands, locking his eyes on yours as his familiar smile spread across his face and blew you a kiss. You tried to keep your cool, but the butterflies in your stomach were having none of it. Camille noticed immediately, nudging you excitedly. “Ooo Y/N, look at him! That's all for you!! We're getting a highlight reel moment right now.” You smiled, feeling a bit more confident as Trent's eyes caught yours before he turned back to the match.
But then the talking started. It was faint at first but grew louder as people stared between you, Camille, and the name on your back. Your heart began racing and you could feel the attention shift as if everyone was putting two and two together. Camille noticed your expression change immediately and swiftly leaned in, her voice low and firm. “Hey hey. Eyes on the pitch, not on them.” You swallowed, taking a deep breath as you tried to shift your focus back to the match, but the stares were hard to ignore. Camille nudged you again, pointing down toward the pitch. “Look at him. Don't let them get to your head. He wants you to be here. Remember that.”
You took another deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. She was right. You weren't here for anyone else, just Trent. You refocused on the pitch, feeling your nerves calm slightly. Camille, who was always the best at calming your anxiety leaned in and whispered “He's been looking at you so much. Just focus on that.” And with that, you found yourself slightly more relaxed as you watched Trent's presence on the field. At the end of the day, none of the cameras or whispers mattered. The only eyes you cared about were already on you.
When the whistle blew for halftime the crowd erupted into chatter and movement. You exhaled deeply, grateful for the break while Camille stretched dramatically next to you. “Okay, I'm getting a bev. Want anything?” Camille asked, already scanning around the crowd. “Just water,” you replied, glancing around nervously as fans moved about. 
“Water?? We’re at Anfield babe. You don’t want anything stronger?” Camille smirked, nudging you playfully. You laughed, shaking your head, “No thanks. I need to stay calm, not get buzzed.” Camille rolled her eyes, “Fine, water it is. Be right back.” As she disappeared into the crowd you leaned back into your seat, trying to focus on the positive energy surrounding you. The tension in your chest started to loosen but then you heard a conversation happening behind you.
“Isn’t that the girl who owns ‘Love Notes’?” a voice asked, which provoked your curiosity immediately. You froze, daring not to turn around but listening intently. “Oh my god, yeah! It is her,” a second voice chimed in. “I follow her on Insta, her brand is blowing up. Did you see the new collection she teased?” 
Your heart skipped a beat as your body stiffened, unsure of how to feel about being noticed so quickly in public.
“Yeah she's killing it. I’ve been dying to work with her” the first voice continued, “I was actually thinking about reaching out to see if she’d be down to collab for her next launch. She seems so sweet.”
A mix of pride and panic built in your chest. They didn’t seem to notice that they were talking loud enough for you to hear them. “She definitely has the ‘it’ factor, she’s gorgeous. But you know how it goes…one bad headline and it's over.” the second voice said casually, as if they were discussing the weather and not the career you worked your ass off for. Your heart sank as you took in their words.
“Especially if she’s really with Trent. That's all anyone will care about. The press is going to eat her alive, poor girl.”
Camille’s words from a couple of days before echoed in your mind. 
Don’t give them more fuel. Just be chill. But it felt like it was already too late for that. People were talking about you regardless, you were suddenly feeling overwhelmed, a spiral of panicked thoughts repeating in your mind. 
Is that really what’s going to happen? 
Camille returned, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Here’s your water, Boring.” she teased, handing you a bottle before plopping back down in her seat. “Anything exciting happen?” You forced a smile, trying to push away the sudden stab of discomfort before staring blankly down at the pitch, “Nope, just enjoying the view.” But your mind was racing. The two girls behind you had planted a seed of doubt in your mind, one you just couldn't shake. You worked too hard to build your business from the ground up and the thought of being reduced to ‘Trent’s girlfriend’— if it ever even went that far, gnawed at you. You tried to shake it off and focus on the match, but your fears lingered like a heavy rain cloud. 
What if this really does change everything? What if this overshadows everything I’ve built?
When the second half started, the cheering of the crowd faded into the background as you mulled over the weight of the strangers’ words. You hated that it was affecting you so much, but you didn’t want to be reduced to another excerpt in Trent’s life. Camille noticed your silence and leaned in, “You okay?” she asked in a concerned voice. You nodded but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. Every time Trent touched the ball the crowd erupted and your heart pounded. There was no denying the connection with Trent, it was there from the very beginning, but this public life? 
It terrified you. 
Liverpool won but you barely registered it. The uncertainty that had been swirling around in your chest was a full storm, pulling you inside your head as you overanalyzed every little thing that had occurred since meeting Trent on the train. Your phone vibrated in your lap, thrusting you back into reality. 
T: Meet me by the side exit, we can head out.
You exhaled, grateful he understood how you felt about being in the spotlight. Despite having his life on display, he was growing increasingly mindful of your boundaries when it came to your personal life. 
On my way.
Camille nudged you playfully, noticing another shift in your mood when you looked at your phone. “Oop, is that your man?”
You nodded, speaking quietly, “Not my man yet..but yes. He wants to head out. I just don't want this to blow up.” Camille squeezed your arm in support, “Don't let it. Control the narrative. Go have fun, babe.” You appreciated her words but as you slipped through the crowd towards the exit, you started to wonder how long it would be before Trent's world came crashing directly into yours. You made your way through the corridor near the exit, spotting Trent leaning up against the wall with his hands shoved into his pockets. You admired how easy it was for him to look so good without trying, just being around him made you feel calm..and the view wasn’t bad either.
“You again?” he teased, looking up at you. “First it was the train, the café, Paris, now Anfield?” I'm starting to think you're stalking me.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, playfully pushing your hand against his chest. “You can’t escape me now.” Trent chuckled as he pulled you closer. “Y’know..we did everything backwards. Random meets, sex..but we haven't had a proper first date.” You raised an eyebrow, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, “And whose fault is that?” He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eye. “My fault for sure. But I'll fix that real soon.” You grinned, lightly massaging the back of his neck with your fingertips. “I'll hold you to that.” He gave you a quick peck on the lips, “Enjoy the match?” he asked, in a soft but curious voice. You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Yeah..it was fun. Parts of it anyway.” Trent pulled back slightly, his smile faltering. “Parts of it??” You sighed, glancing down at the ground before meeting his eyes. “Everything is moving so fast..people are talking. I just don’t want to lose myself in all this.” His expression softened as he gently cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him directly. “I get it Y/N. It’s a lot. But I won’t let that happen to you, you’ve worked too hard.” You smiled, leaning into his touch; his reassurance meant the world to you, but you still had some lingering doubts in the back of your mind. You took a deep breath, deciding it would probably be best to lighten the mood. 
“So…where are we going for our first date?” you teased, as you and Trent headed toward the car. He grinned, opening the car door for you, “I was thinking we could do a private cooking class. We could make something fancy..it’ll be just us and the chef. Lowkey..no pressure.” You slid into the passenger seat, raising a brow, “You? Cooking??” Trent laughed as he got into the driver's seat. “Don't doubt me! I have some skills..sorta. But that's what the chef is for. We can have fun, maybe a little competition.” You giggled, buckling your seatbelt. “Okay..but don't be mad when you lose.” He leaned over, kissing you quickly before starting the car. “Oh yeah? We'll see about that Y/N.” 
After arriving at Trent’s, he led you through his house, his hand resting on your back as you navigated the space before settling on the couch for a cuddle. The two of you had been lounging for hours, your feet resting in Trent’s lap. The TV hummed in the background with whatever show you decided to binge, but you really weren’t paying attention anymore. You stretched a bit, glancing at the time, and sighed. “I should probably go…” you said softly, trying to prepare yourself mentally but not really wanting to get up. “Gotta get back to work. I still have so much to do.”
Trent, who was absentmindedly running his fingers along your legs, smirked. “Or you could stay longer.” You laughed, but the way his hands were sliding up your leg made you feel a little dizzy. “I..I can't. I have to work.” He leaned forward, placing a kiss on your ankle “I'll go with you tomorrow. I’ll help,” he muttered. You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully. “You?? What are you going to do? Stand guard all day?”
“Maybe” he said with a grin. “Just teach me. Like how you’re learning my world, I want to learn yours.” Your heart rate increased as his kisses trailed higher, reaching your knee. 
“I can't think when you're doing that” you whined, trying to keep your composure but failing miserably. He knew exactly what he was doing and it was working. “Then don't think.” he whispered in a low and husky voice, making you thrum with need. You bit your lip, trying to stay focused. 
C'mon.. be strong. Don't let him distract you Y/N, you told yourself. 
His kisses moved to your neck, your mental strength quickly slipping away. Your body was reacting faster than your brain could keep up. “I really need to get going..” you managed to say, not really sounding convincing at all.
“Stay,” he suggested as his lips moved dangerously close to your ear. “Just stay the night and I'll take you back in the morning. I’ll wake us up.” You tried to focus on the reasonable part of your brain. The part that knew you had to get up early to meet deadlines, but Trent's lips found your neck again and your brain went foggy. “Trent..” you tried, though your voice betrayed you. “I can't just—”
“Why not?” he interrupted, moving his lips to your collarbone. “I'll go with you tomorrow. It'll be fine.” Your body started reacting before you could come up with a decent argument. His kisses were soft, so slow, and perfect with each one sending waves of heat to your core. All rational thoughts dissipating. “Y/N, you know you want to,” he whispered.
Oh, he was absolutely fucking right and that was the problem. 
Your heart was racing as his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer. You were rapidly losing the battle to keep it together. "I really..should..go," you barely managed to say, it sounded weak even to your own ears. You could barely breathe let alone think straight. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, voice full of promise. “I'll make it worth your while.” You let out a soft moan, barely able to hold it back as he kissed you deeper. Your thoughts of leaving were long gone, being drowned out by the feeling of being wanted, desired and completely out of control. 
“Okay..I’ll stay,” you managed to say in a faint whisper, but he heard it. He pulled you onto his lap swiftly, your legs straddling him. “Mmm good,” he murmured, his hands roaming your body as they reached for the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “You looked so fucking good in my shirt today. But I need it off now.” He lifted the shirt over your head, immediately moving to the clasp of your bra to unhook it. You giggled, running your hands up his chest as you began to roll your hips in a teasing motion. “Ride me, baby. I wanna see you move,” he whispered.
You bit your lip, rolling your hips against his lap as you began to feel him harden between your thighs. The sensation made you gasp and Trent let out a groan as his hands squeezed your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good already.” He lifted you up off his lap, pulling your bottoms and underwear off before removing his own. You shifted your hips, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock as he filled you completely. The feeling made both of you gasp as your hands tightened on his shoulders. You started to roll your hips in a slow, but teasing rhythm. Trent groaned as his fingers dug into your waist. 
“You like it when I ride you?” you asked, your voice breathy as you moved your hips with more urgency against him. “I fucking love it,” he mumbled as his head fell back against the couch. “You look–fuck..so fucking pretty on top of me Y/N.” His praise encouraged you to move your hips faster and harder as you rode him. Every roll of your hips sent waves of pleasure through you as your moans turned into desperate gasps. “Write your name on me baby,” Trent growled, his voice now strained as his hands tightened on your waist. “I wanna see you really fuck me.”
You laughed, not fully understanding what he meant. “My name?? Like this?” You started to spell your name with your hips, continuing to grind against him. “Yeahhh. Just..like..that.” he groaned, thrusting his cock up into you in a way that made you gasp loudly. “Look at you taking me so good baby.” Your laughter quickly turned into loud moans due to the intensity of his thrusts, each one driving you closer and closer to an orgasm. The passion between you two was off the charts. Every touch and sound pushed both of you closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy. 
“Oh my goddd. Trent...I can’t–” you gasped as your body began trembling, the tension inside of you snapping as you continued to ride through your orgasm despite your thighs burning from exhaustion. Trent groaned beneath you as he watched the way your body shook with pleasure. “Gonna make me cum moaning my name like that.” he grunted, his voice rough as he thrust into one last time, his cum spilling inside of you.
For a moment, you both stayed tangled in each other, still trembling from the intensity. You were breathless and slumped against his chest as the aftermath of your orgasm washed over you. Once you caught your breath, a wicked thought crossed your mind. Before Trent could fully recover, you slipped off his lap and kneeled between his legs as you parted his thighs. “What are—”
You silenced him with a kiss to his inner thigh, “Shhh.. just relax,” you whispered in a teasing voice. Trent's breath hitched as soon as he realized what you were about to do. His fingers tangled in your hair as his body tensed with anticipation. You licked a slow, deliberate path on his shaft, pausing as you reached a small, sensitive patch of skin just below his balls. You flicked your tongue there and his reaction was instant. “Oh fuckk—” Trent gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily as a deep groan escaped him. “Holy shit.” You smiled, loving the way he reacted to you. You licked that spot again, teasing him with enough pressure to make him squirm. His hands tightened in your hair as his head fell back against the couch. His body was trembling with each flick of your tongue, his moans filling the room as he let out a string of curses. 
“You're unreal,” he moaned in a strained voice. You continued your slow assault, your tongue tracing the sensitive line along the underside of his dick before swirling around the head. You looked up at him through your lashes as your lips curled into a wicked smile. You sucked gently on the tip before moving back down in a zigzag pattern with your tongue. Trent groaned loudly, his body shaking as his hips bucked toward your mouth. 
“Where the fuck did you learn that?” he gasped, his voice filled with disbelief and pleasure. You didn't answer him. Instead, you wrapped your lips around him fully and took him deeper, your tongue working in a rhythm that had him at your mercy. “Shit..keep going..please," he moaned as his grip on your hair tightened the harder you sucked. Your movements were purposeful and teasing. “Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna cum.” Hearing him moan like that spurred you on, and you hallowed out your cheeks to take him deeper; your tongue still tracing the sensitive spot beneath the head that had him trembling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm cumming baby,” Trent gasped as his body tensed beneath you. You didn't pull away, you kept his cock in your mouth as he spilled into you, his groans loud and raw as he came hard. You swallowed every last drop, your lips still wrapped around him as you continued to suck him gently through his aftershocks to savor the taste of him. Trent's body slumped against the couch, his chest heaving as he dragged a hand over his hair lazily. “What the fuck Y/N?” he muttered in disbelief. “You're something else.”
You grinned as you wiped the corner of your mouth, climbing back up next to him to nestle into his side. “I told you to relax.” Trent laughed, pulling you into his arms and giving you a deep kiss. “You're stuck with me now. I'm never letting you go.”
“Good.” you whispered against his lips. “I have more where that came from.”
After spending some extra time on the couch enraptured in the night's events, you glanced at your phone and your eyes widened. It was already 1AM, and as much as you loved spending time with Trent, you had to wake up in a few hours. You felt Trent shift underneath you, his fingers brushing over your back. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and you knew he wasn't done just yet.
“Don't even start.” you stated, already knowing where this was headed. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you were tired after so many rounds. “What'd I do? I'm just enjoying my view.” Trent grinned as his hand traveled up your waist. You laughed as you nudged him playfully. “Well 'your view' is getting up to shower and go to bed.” He groaned, dramatically throwing his head against the couch. “You trying to run away from me now?” You rolled your eyes, standing up to make your way to the bathroom as he watched your every move. “I'm not running away. I just don't want to be all sweaty and gross.” He was already up and following you, “Damn. You're just gonna leave me out here like that..after all we've been through?” You shot an amused look at him over your shoulder, “Why are you being so dramatic?? It's just a shower.” 
Before you could say another word, he caught up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You turned to face him, your back pressed against the sink as you tried to hold back a laugh. “You're not going to let me shower in peace, huh?” Trent's hands moved to cup your chin as his lips brushed against yours in a teasing kiss. “Nah, not a chance,” he muttered before giving you proper, deep and slow kisses.
“Trent..” you murmured between kisses. “If you don't stop we're never going to get any sleep. It's really late.” He laughed, clearly not giving a fuck. “I'm not tired yet,” he teased before kissing you again, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “We can stay up..” You pulled back a little, lightly pushing against his chest. “Nooo. I'm getting in the shower. Behave! Or get out.” Trent grinned as he stepped back to turn on the shower before looking over at you. “I'm definitely staying,” he said, with cheeky confidence.
Steam filled the bathroom as the water hit the tiles, and you slipped past him to get under the water. Trent followed close behind, his hands already finding their way to your waist as he pressed his naked body against yours from behind. “You're being so clingy” you teased as he leaned in to kiss your neck. “Can you blame me after you just took my soul like that?” You turned to face him, the water streaming between your bodies. “Don't make me regret inviting you in here.” His hands slipped down to your hips as he pressed you against the cool tile before finding your lips again. “Just making the most of our night.” The kiss deepened, his hands were everywhere. On your waist, your ass, tracing the curve of your back, pulling you close until there was absolutely no space left between you. When things started heating up again you laughed, breaking the kiss and pushing gently at him. “If you don't stop we’ll be in this shower all night.”
“Ah, okay okay. I'll be good then.” he said, though his hands were still cemented on you. 
Once you were both clean, you stepped out the shower. The bathroom was warm and steamy. Trent reached for a towel and wrapped it around you. His playful banter from earlier softened and was replaced by something more tender as he dabbed at your skin with the towel. He grabbed a bottle of lotion from the counter, squeezing some onto his hands. “Can't have my girl out here dry and ashy. C’mere.” You burst out laughing at his comment, “Hmm..'your' girl?” You gave him a teasing look, trying not to smile. “I don't remember you asking.”
He grinned up at you as he kneeled down, gently smoothing the lotion over your legs. “Ah, you're right. Guess we have to talk about that, huh?” You giggled, crossing your arms as you watched him work his way up. The way he focused on you made you feel things you weren't really expecting to feel. “I guess so. I'm not yours until you ask and you haven't asked.” He stood up, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your shoulder as the fresh scent of the lotion mixed with the leftover steam from the shower. “Got it. But I'm still not letting you be ashy. My girl or not.”
You burst out laughing again, the sound filling the bathroom as Trent gave you a fake offended look, as if lotioning you up was the most important task he'd ever done in his life. His hands moved deliberately as he massaged the lotion over the rest of your body, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “You're a mess but I'm kinda into it.” you said, feeling your heart melt at how sweet and tender he was being.
“Only for you Y/N.” Trent replied as he gave you a peck on the lips. He rummaged through a drawer before handing you an old, worn LFC shirt that smelled like him, and a pair of his boxers. “Put this on, you’ll sleep better.” You smiled as you slipped the oversized shirt over your head. He watched you as you pulled on his boxers, which sat low on your hip since they were too big. “Feeling better?” he asked.
“A little. But I'm sooo tired. I need sleep” you whined. He let out a dramatic sigh, pretending like he was annoyed. “All that effort and no cuddle? No reward? C'mon.” You laughed, pushing him lightly as you made your way to his bed. “You're cute, but I still have to work in the morning.” He followed you, still being needy as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, both of you settled in the bed. “Yeah, yeah. The shop,” he said in a soft murmur. He pulled the covers over you both. The way he held you close to him without making it feel like a big deal was so sweet. It felt natural and easy. “Goodnight,” you whispered as your eyes started to close.
Trent's voice was soft, “Goodnight, beautiful.”
You stirred awake the next morning as faint sunlight crept in through the blinds in Trent's room. You shifted slightly, feeling Trent's arm wrapped around your waist. It was comforting, but something felt too peaceful.
Too perfect. 
You opened your eyes, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. It was 9:37AM.
“Shit!” you exclaimed, sitting up quickly trying to wake yourself up fully. You smacked Trent on the chest. “Trent, get the fuck up! We're late!” He groaned, still partially asleep as he muttered something incoherent and tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you back down on the bed. “Gimme five minutes.”
“GET UP!” you yelled, pushing against him. “We're late, late! I have to open up and we're still at your house!” Trent slowly opened his eyes, his face scrunching in confusion before finally realizing what you said. “What time is it?”
“Past 9:30! I was supposed to be there by now, you were supposed to wake us up!” He laughed sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he sat up and stretched his arms. “Universe had other plans for us like always.” “Oh yeah? The universe wanted me to be late because you couldn't keep your hands off me last night?”
Trent swung his legs over the side of the bed, laughing. “Maybe so.” He stood up, his toned torso catching your attention before you snapped yourself out of it. “We're awake now though. Relax, we'll make it.”
“Relax?? A business can’t run itself!” you scoffed. You got up, hurrying to the bathroom as you tried to pull yourself together. Trent followed you, moving a lot slower than what was acceptable for how late you were. He leaned against the bathroom door, watching you with amusement as you tried to tame your hair. “You look fit in my clothes y’know.” You shot him a look. “We're not doing this right now Trent. I'm gonna be late forreal and it's your fault.”
“It was worth it though.”
You were annoyed at first but as you turned to face him, the annoyance faded when you looked at his satisfied smile. “Maybe..but I still have to get to work.”
Trent smirked, stepping closer as he wrapped his hands on your hips. “I'm sorry. Couldn't help myself.” You shook your head, leaning into him for a quick kiss. “You're lucky you're cute.” He deepened the kiss for a second, knowing it would annoy you before pulling away laughing. “Stoppp! I need to get ready,” you whined, gently swatting him away. “We need to stop by my place so I don't have to wear your boxers to work.”
“Boxers and all, you're still the hottest girl out there.” You grabbed your phone, beginning to head out the door. “Shut up and lets go!” The two of you bolted out of his house, Trent still pulling on a hoodie while you jogged to the car in his oversized shirt, his boxers fluttering around you as you tried to check the emails on your phone. Trent unlocked the car, you slid into the passenger seat muttering to yourself. “Oh my god how are we this late?” 
He shrugged, “The universe wanted us to sleep in.” 
You laughed, tossing your head back, “Will you shut up and drive?”
“I'm just saying!” he exclaimed, pulling onto the road. “Fate or whatever you wanna call it..that's why we're here aren't we? Maybe the world wants you to chill.”
You shot him a glare. “I'll 'chill' after I open up the store.” Trent turned up the music to something that matched the sunny morning as you glanced at him, a loving smile creeping up on your face. You couldn't deny the connection between the two of you. The sex was amazing but it wasn't just physical stuff. The ease you felt with him despite being the most anxious person ever, the laughs you shared, the way he made you feel like time was an illusion...that was something else.
But you had absolutely no time to be thinking about that right now. 
Zero.
Once you got back in town, you quickly stopped at your apartment and sprinted inside to polish yourself into something more presentable. When you finally arrived at Les Notes d'Amour you were running around, unlocking doors, turning on lights, and trying to remember every little detail you needed to put in place. Trent followed behind you lazily with his hands in his hoodie pockets, looking entirely too relaxed. “Need any help?”
You were still frantic as you glanced over your shoulder. “I think you've caused enough chaos the past twelve hours.” He laughed as he started to wander around the shop. “Just making your day more exciting.”
“Exciting? This is stressful.” you echoed, shooting an annoyed look at him. “It's different.”
You couldn't stay mad at him though, not with that beautiful face and dazzling smile of his. He looked like he was having the time of his life watching you scramble around the shop.
After things finally settled down, you leaned against the counter. Trent wandered, scanning the shelves of the different fragrances and oils. “So what's this new collection you're working on?” Trent picked up a small bottle, giving it a curious sniff. “Tell me about it again.” You shrugged, feeling a little deflated as you leaned on your elbows. “It's supposed to be about unexpected moments in life..like chance encounters. But I haven't figured out how to tie it all together.” Trent raised his eyebrow, coming to a realization. “Kinda like us, yeah?” You shot him a look but there was something in his eyes that made your heart feel like it may burst out of your chest. “Maybeee…”
He picked up a bottle, wafting it in the air. “What's this one?”
“That's bergamot,” you said, walking over to stand next to him. “It smells fresh. I was gonna use it to represent the first time we met.” Trent looked down at you, surprised. “The train?” You nodded, “Yeah..when you had on that ridiculous outfit.”
He grinned, looking into your eyes, making you feel butterflies. “Yeah, yeah. I remember.” Trent picked up another scent. “What about this one?”
“That's cardamom. From when we saw each other at the café.” He brought his hands up to your face, faintly tracing the outline of the cupid's bow on your lip with his thumb. “and Paris?”
You picked up two bottles, one pistachio, and the other ylang-ylang. “I thought these could represent Paris.” His expression softened as he leaned in to kiss you. 
“Paris was nice.”
“Yeah..it was,” you agreed, pressing your lips to his for a kiss. At that moment, it felt like a missing piece of you had just connected back to you. Trent pulled away from you slowly, “Y’know what's missing?”
“...What?”
He leaned in, his voice low. “An aftershave. Something for me.” You burst out laughing. “Are you being serious right now?” He shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah..you said I need to step my game up. Let me be your muse or something.” You gave him a teasing look, "Oh, now you want to be helpful?”
“I'm just saying..I'll test it out. I’ll bring it to all my matches. Just for you.” You rolled your eyes, still laughing at him. “Maybe I will.”
The air between you thickened, not from the scents surrounding you, but from something far deeper. Something that was undeniably felt yet still unspoken. The quiet understanding that every moment you shared with Trent had woven itself into something you couldn't explain. You didn’t feel like you were even close to defining what the two of you were. Yet, the gravitational pull between you was so strong, so sincere. It wasn't just attraction or a coincidence, it was like the universe took these random moments and stitched them together. 
You looked at him, so calm and comfortable in your space, your world. His fingers brushed against a glass bottle with the same ease he carried with everything else. His presence wasn't loud or overwhelming. But it lingered, like the perfect note of a scent that stays with you after it fades from the air. It felt like you were both waiting for something you couldn't name. 
Love was just like that. 
Soft at first, barely noticeable. Like the first trace of a perfume in the air, you might even miss it if you weren't paying attention. But just like the notes of a carefully crafted scent...it settles into you. It deepens, wrapping itself around you until it becomes something you can't imagine being without. Love didn't need to be loud to be transformative. It didn't need grand gestures or declarations. Sometimes it simply shows up quietly, filling in spaces between words and moments. It changes you in ways you don't see coming. 
Every laugh, playful nudge, and quiet glance had woven into something deeper...even if neither of you had spoken it out loud yet. 
“I don't know how this happened,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at him. “It feels like—” 
He nodded, his hand brushing lightly against yours. “Like we weren't supposed to meet any other way.” It felt like fate had nudged you into each other's paths.
Every missed chance or twist of time was always meant to bring you..
Right here.
When love feels like magic, it's called destiny. When destiny has a sense of humor, it's Serendipity.
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i think this may have dethroned ch 3 as my fav..feeling very lovey dovey atm 🕊️ if you made it this far, thank you for reading! feel free to share any thoughts in my inbox.
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starlingflight · 6 months
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I have only recently discovered your writing and was wondering if you've done a scene where Harry tells Ginny he smells her in his Amortentia?
I just think you capture their personalities so perfectly that I think you'd do the scene justice.
Anon, you're my new favourite person - so I dropped everything and wrote this for you 😘
AO3 or read below:
The smell hit her like a punch to the gut. 
It had been lying dormant, in wait, hanging unseen in the air of the dungeon corridor, ready for Ginny to wander unwittingly into its trap. 
She wasn't even taking potions this year, but Luna was, and the first day of Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts had been so lonely and unpleasant that she'd been unable to resist using the end of her free period to wander down here to meet one of the few friendly faces remaining to her in the castle when the school day officially ended. 
It wasn’t the homely, comforting aroma of her mother’s apple pie that had the heart-wrenching effect on her, nor was it the damp, earthy fragrance that brought to mind the orchard after summer rainfall. The scent that had Ginny leaning heavily against the cool stone wall was more subtle, a faint hint in the air of something woodsy, evergreen and clean, and so intrinsically Harry that she suspected it would’ve taken her breath away even if she’d been expecting it. 
The door to the potions classroom burst open, spilling a handful of her classmates into the dimly-lit corridor. Ginny forced herself to stand upright, before anyone could see a hint of her distress. 
Despite their shaking, her legs carried her forward. Some invisible force summoned her; she pushed against the crowd exiting Slughorn's classroom, slipping through the doorway; ignoring Luna's puzzled gaze as she followed the scent to a golden cauldron sitting atop the nearest desk. 
The surface of the potion within had an opalescent sheen, and the vapour rising from it was ascending towards the stone ceiling in distinctive spirals that would’ve allowed her to identify it even if the overpowering scent hadn’t already given away its identity.
“Amortentia,” Ginny read aloud, peering over the top of Ron’s borrowed copy of Advanced Potion Making from where she was sitting on the ground opposite Harry. “Sounds a lot more interesting than levitation charms.” 
Harry looked up. Distracted from his attempts at revision, his head fell back slightly against the beech tree he was leaning against. “Slughorn brewed it for our first lesson this year. I could smell it before I even walked into the classroom.” 
Ginny tossed the charms textbook she’d been pretending to read aside, giving him her full attention, which, really, he’d had from the moment he’d convinced her to leave the library in favour of the castle's sunlit grounds. “And what does Harry Potter smell when confronted with the world’s strongest love potion?” 
Harry’s cheeks flushed and Ginny’s grin widened. Making him blush was a new, and favourite, activity of hers. “I’ll tell you next year,” he said evasively. “When you can tell me what you smell too.” 
Fleetingly, she considered accepting his non-answer. It was, after all, a deeply personal question. But this was one of the few boundary-pushing questions that Ginny could ask, unlike the others that she unswervingly steered away from – what are you whispering with Ron and Hermione about? What are you doing when you’re summoned to Dumbledore’s office? Why do I feel like talking about anything further ahead than next Tuesday is tempting a fate that I’m not ready to face? – Amortentia, by contrast, seemed utterly tame. 
She rolled onto her stomach, her elbows sinking into the grass, supporting her upper body and holding it upright. Her smile, she knew, was full of challenge. “I bet I can guess.” 
Harry’s eyes wandered the length of her body, before returning to her face. He mirrored her smirk. “And if you can’t?” 
Laughter rose, light and breathy in her throat, but Ginny swallowed it down, schooling her face into a look of total seriousness. “A forfeit of your choosing… and if I win, a reward of mine.” 
Despite what half the school would probably say, Harry was absolutely terrible at hiding his smile. He shook his head. “Considering my choice of forfeit, and your choice of reward are definitely the same thing, there doesn’t seem to be much risk for you here?” 
“Or you,” Ginny countered, conveniently ignoring the risk of him having to reveal a deeply personal fact. 
The spark in Harry’s eyes told her he hadn’t forgotten the risk, though he didn’t say as much. “We should probably just skip to kissing then.”  
There was nothing she could do to contain her laughter in the face of such a brazen statement; it rang out clear and bright across the grounds. A few weeks ago, when she’d been starting to wonder if he was going to tiptoe around this growing attraction between them forever, the idea of him saying such a thing outright to her would’ve been unimaginable.
She tilted her head to the side, pretending to consider the suggestion. It did sound tempting, but Ginny knew that neither of them would really agree to it. Lines had been drawn. A challenge laid out. Satisfaction must be granted. 
She started with the obvious. “Treacle tart.” 
Harry’s smile fell, clearly concerned by the speed with which Ginny had delivered a correct guess. He recovered quickly, one corner of his mouth twitching. “Been watching my dessert habits closely, have you?” 
Ginny ignored this, finding nothing worthy of denial in the question. “Now it’s a matter of narrowing down what you like more… flying seems an obvious choice, but there’s your fondness for Hedwig to consider–” 
“Hedwig?” Harry burst out. He leaned forward, leaving the tree trunk behind as he looked at her disbelievingly. “I did not smell my owl in a love potion!” 
“Well, it sounds weird when you put it like that,” Ginny said, fighting the urge to laugh once more at the outraged expression on Harry’s face. “Stop looking at me like that!  She's an important presence in your life – I think she’s amortentia-worthy!” 
Harry’s expression remained unchanged. “...She’s an owl.” 
“Fine,” Ginny sighed, shaking her head. “But I think Hedwig would be deeply offended by your reaction.” 
Harry released a snort of laughter, returning his back to the tree. “Well, it’s a good job she’s not as nosy as you, so she’ll never have to know.” 
“Flying then,” Ginny pondered loudly, her fingers twisting in the grass as she let Harry’s comment pass without argument. When it came to her interest in him, ‘nosy’ didn’t quite cover it. 
She fell silent for a moment, considering the many possible scents associated with flying. Her mind immediately went to the rich, leathery fragrance of a quaffle, but she dismissed this at once. She was a chaser, not Harry. Snitches, delicate and metallic, didn’t really smell of anything in her opinion. Being in the air had a unique smell, fresh and clear, but that wasn’t right either. 
Flying, she knew, started before you got in the air. Flying was the sense of anticipation, flying was the rush of pushing off from the ground, flying was endless possibilities. 
“Your broom,” Ginny said definitively after another moment of deliberation. Broomsticks were freedom. 
Harry nodded, confirming her guess correct. Their eyes met, and she knew, without either of them speaking, that her reasoning was sound too.
“Two out of three…” Ginny mused, waiting for Harry to correct her if her calculations were wrong. He didn’t. 
This time the silence that fell between them was charged with suspense, though Ginny suspected this might just be in her head. A flutter of butterflies had broken loose in her stomach. 
She didn't need to be in the presence of a cauldron of amortentia to know that she would smell him. The way he looked at her, it didn't feel completely out of the realm of possibility that Harry would smell Ginny too, but they'd only been together for a matter of weeks, and she'd wanted him for years, and if she guessed herself, and he told her she was wrong, she wasn't sure she'd be able to take the blow. 
“Not Hedwig…” she smirked with an air of confidence she definitely didn't feel, buying time, and coaxing a smile onto Harry's face that went some way to soothing Ginny's nerves. 
“Definitely not,” Harry agreed. 
“More food?” Ginny hedged, watching his face carefully for a reaction. “Or something like that? You do have a liking for butterbeer.”
Harry shook his head. His lips pressed together but Ginny could still see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You're doing this on purpose.” 
Her heart was beating frantically in her chest. “Doing what?” 
Harry cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you make me admit it, you don't win.”  
Her butterflies were flying wildly now, swooping and diving within her. For once, Ginny found she didn't care very much about winning at all. “I want you to say it.” 
“Fine,” Harry sighed. His hand found hers on the ground, fingers entwining together in the long blades of grass. Much to Ginny's delight, his blush made a return. “You… your hair, if you want me to be specific.” 
“My hair?” She asked, somewhat breathlessly. Her free hand reached out and pulled a strand of her hair to her nose. “It just smells like hair.” 
Harry's cheeks turned from a faint rosy pink, to flushed crimson. “It smells like flowers.”
“Flowers,” Ginny whispered, elevating the word to the height of the world's greatest compliment in her mind. She was certain her smile looked completely ridiculous, but she was incapable of caring. She pulled herself upright, careful that their hands remained clasped together. She shuffled forwards on the grass until her face was inches from Harry's. “Really? My hair?” 
“Yes,” Harry laughed; there was a hint of nervousness beneath the usually carefree sound. “Can you stop looking so pleased with yourself?” 
Ginny's smile remained in place as she shook her head. “No, I don't think I can.” 
“This can't be news to you,” he protested, apparently gathering some confidence from how clearly delighted Ginny was about this revelation. “Have I not made my feelings clear?” 
She supposed he had, in a very Harry-ish way. Kissing her in the centre of the full common room had been a fairly loud declaration, even if no words had been exchanged at that particular moment, and he'd been very attentive from that moment onwards, but this was different. Amortentia was magic; pure, and ancient, and undeniable. 
“I’m ready for my forfeit now,” Ginny announced, not waiting for any further instructions before leaning forwards, her lips finding his, eager to make her own feelings clear in what time they had left before lunch ended–
“Miss Weasley!” Professor Slughorn's voice pulled Ginny abruptly back to the present. 
She was standing beside the golden cauldron; her knuckles had turned a ghostly white from the strength with which she gripped the edge of the desk. She was breathing deeply, taking in great lungfuls of the heady scent emanating from the potion. 
Slughorn was frowning at her, his face a mask of concern and pity. Ginny wasn't sure which sentiment she hated more. 
“Sorry,” she said, using all her force of will to take a definitive step away from the desk. “I was just looking for Luna.” 
“I'm here,” Luna said from the doorway. Her eyes were wide, piercing. “Did you want to go to dinner?” 
Ginny nodded, now that she'd come to her senses she was desperate to remove herself from the dungeons and the heavy miasma that surrounded her. 
Slughorn cleared his throat uncomfortably before she'd taken even a step towards Luna. “Are you sure you're alright, Miss Weasley? I wouldn't want you to go up to dinner if you're not feeling yourself… there's a lot of observant eyes in the great hall these days.” 
“I'm fine,” she lied, ignoring her thundering heart, and schooling her face into a mask of perfect neutrality she was already fed up with wearing after only one day of term. 
“Very well,” Slughorn nodded, though he still looked reluctant to let her go. His eyes travelled between Ginny and Luna. “The weather's still quite fine for this time of year,” he said, his tone observational. “I always find a walk around the grounds to be a pleasant prelude to one's dinner… There's nothing quite like fresh air to clear the mind.” 
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