#and she's ready to hand out valentines to everyone ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fanzou · 3 months ago

Text

I Can Love You

A VALENTINES SPECIAL

✗ Pairing: Law Trafalgar x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: You insist that Nico Robin is the right one for him, but he wants to show you why you’re wrong.

✗ Total WC: 6.5K

✗ CW: SMUT! Reader is a little jeeeeelly of Robin and Law’s friendship, reader is also a Straw Hat, LAW HAS A BIG DICK, p in v sex, Law teases too much [let me know if I missed any]

✗ A/N: Enjooooooy!

“You know, I was thinking,” you start, and he's about ready to roll his eyes. “Robin and you’d make a great couple.”

Even though he was facing the opposite direction of you, you can tell Law’s face was littered in a scowl.

After spending over 2 weeks with him, he was easier to read like that. It came with its perks and, well, Law was Law and there wasn’t much else.

“And why’s that?” He feigns interest in what you say, raising his head in your direction while throwing the blood littered gauze pads in the trash can next to the desk. “I think you both would complement each other pretty well. She’s quiet, you’re quiet, she’s pretty wise, you are too.” You pause for a moment, then continue, “She’s also very gorgeous.” You wiggle your eyebrows, with a mischievous look.

“I suggest you take care of those wounds on your body before you worry about who I should or shouldn’t be with.”

Known for your blunt and straightforward manner—he respected it, in truth—pirates weren’t known to talk so formally amongst each other anyways, but this, he would be lying straight out of his teeth had he said he wasn’t taken aback by today’s new invasive question you’d ask him. You’ve said some weird things, never anything about potential love interests. His love life yes—which was… nonexistent, in your own words.

And yes, you make that very clear to him. A lot.

He looks over to you with your finger to your chin as if deep in thought, like you Straw Hats even had anything to give thought to anyway, and you finally speak, "Yeah... she might be too good for you. Scratch the thought."

He chuckles, “You wound me.”

“But if you had to choose from any woman in your entire life to ever marry, who would you choose?” And he has to remind himself that you are completely and entirely under the influence of painkillers, otherwise he would have mistook you for a 5-year-old with the way the question was structured.

“Definitely not you.”

“Law!” You pout. He makes sure that his back is facing you again so he could sneak in a little smile. “That’s actually a good thing. I’m out of your league.”

He turns around to look at you, hand on his heart, “My heart truly cannot take anymore heartbreak.” He says in the most monotone voice you’ve ever heard from him.

For most, it was weird that you were left behind by your captain, but in this case—and with a whole lot of begging from the Straw hat himself—you were rushed to Law’s medical aid. Mindlessly running into battle to protect your friends from a life or death situation wasn’t so appealing when you had to face the consequences for the next month.

But you insisted that you didn’t regret your decision if it meant that everyone was safe; or in Law’s words, you were just careless and dumb.

Even though Luffy himself had to be pried away from your side by the swordsman and the cook while you were unconscious for the first few days, Law had explained to you that they had to get a move on (In your crews complete and utter reluctance) for the next up and coming battle when you came to. And when you found out, you were a bit upset to be parted away from them, but quickly found comfort in Law's presence while you were bed-ridden, cracking jokes about how you’d call him captain until your time was up on his submarine.

He looks over to your bandaged condition, high off your ass, and he almost wants to laugh. Even in your drugged out state, you talk about your friends in such high regard, and try playing wingman with him.

You disrupt the comfortable silence while he looks over some of the stuff on his desk, “You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m feeling much better. Y’think I can go back on my own ship yet?” You’re already stretching your arms out. He calls your name with his signature “-ya” attached to it in a scolding manner, “What did I say about moving?” Damn Straw hat.

You immediately deflate and look down, “You’re not letting me do anything. I feel fine.”

“It feels that way until you move a little too much and start to open your wounds again, give it another week and we’ll see how you’re doing.” He’s looking through some pages on his desk. “We can go on another walk tomorrow if you really wanna move that badly.”

“Thank you, Cap!” You beam at him, he feels his heart jump a little bit.

Another week has passed and you’re itching to go back to your found family. It’s been this way for the past three weeks, but as the month goes by, you’d just grow more and more eager.

You made him question why he was even doing this often times.

He was a little offended by your verbalized pleas to get out of here, like he wasn’t helping you. In his own little ways, he tried satiating your boredom by doing things that were almost out of character for someone such as himself. He’d even let you tell him about your fellow crew members to make you a little happier.

You’d talk about Luffy quite often, maybe because he knew him way better than anyone else.

You talked about Robin and Nami as well, about how you felt like they were the sisters you never had growing up, about how close you were to them, about how you each met, he was almost sick of how much you talked about them. But if it meant that you were doing okay then that was all that mattered.

Is that why you said that thing a couple weeks ago? About Robin-ya? There was a sincerity in your voice. Robin was a beautiful woman just as you proclaimed, she was around his age, and all the things you said about her held truth.

Maybe it was true—Nico Robin was the woman perfectly crafted for him. And he couldn’t deny her beauty.

He brushes his hand over his face--maybe out of confusion or frustration, he can't decide. But he hated the conflicting feelings that resided in his mind, they made no sense. He never had an issue with women. He didn't want to.

From the day he met you, his beating heart understood an appeal his mind couldn't, you had an annoying personality. You made dumb decisions. You said things too brutally. You never thought about yourself and it was bound to get you killed one way or another. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been spending extra time with you and getting way too familiar with you, but he’s letting himself enjoy it far too much. And he doesn’t know how he’d feel once you parted your ways. He’s never been this close to a woman before, be it the lack of female subordinates on his ship, or his lack of intimacy with just about everyone, it’s a lot for him.

When he has his arm on your hip to assist you in walking and you have yours on his shoulder, he feels his heart rate picking up a little more.

Sometimes when you get tired you beg him to carry you back to your room, he pretends that he hates it, as he leans over for you to get on his back.

And the first week was hell for him when he had to wash you, because bloodied bath and scars aside, your body was beautiful. Every inch of it. He didn't want to be a pervert. He kept chanting the words; this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship in his head when his mind almost slipped to unholy places. If you weren’t in so much pain at the time you’d probably have teased him for how red he looked.

But right now you seem fine, and you and Law (sometimes Bepo) have been going on walks around the submarine every morning now to get you used to physical activity again, you fall into the routine pretty quickly and you don’t seem as depressed as the first few days you were here.

A day ago the submarine ascended out of the water and met with dry land. He was conflicted in telling you— he didn’t know how you’d react. You’re in a completely different place now, different from where you were almost a month ago, it must've be a little weird to come outside after 3 weeks.

It was something that Chopper was extremely adamant on, only because he knew your tendency to wander and extreme desire to explore anywhere you went. You were quite the adventurous one, which is why the Straw Hat himself was probably so upset over your departure.

He sits next to you in a chair from your bed, mentally preparing himself and thinking on how he’d formulate the way he would go about telling you.

Would you stay by his side? Would you immediately go someplace else, and without him?

You’re sat upright in the bed waiting for what he had to say, “We’ll be getting some stock in this new place and I want you to come with us. Just to see how you do.” Your eyes get wider with every word that comes after the next, and you’re smiling. You hadn’t smiled this hard ever since you got here.

What he doesn’t expect, is you to throw yourself onto him. “Thank you Law! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Your embrace is warm, and easy to get lost in and he refuses to let himself have that pleasure. "Do they have a carnival? Can we go out to eat?"

He rests his hand on your waist in an effort to pull you off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, you just got your stitches off.” And he does well to hide the small smile that starts to form.

Law insists that you have to be with him, no questions asked.

If not him, then Bepo—the usual routine. It kinda made you mad, I mean, why not go with the other crew mates? You needed the new faces, but he insisted that he wasn’t as confident in their skills to take care of you versus his. Bepo was far more comfortable to be with given his warm and fuzzy embrace. And you envied the captain for having him be apart of the Heart pirates instead of the Straw hats.

You’re excited to finally go out and enjoy the traditions of this new place, you’re wearing a tight dress that looks almost too good on you.

Very much to Law’s complete and utter dismay, as well as his pleasure.

You made a joke to him earlier and told him you were surprised that he didn’t make you wear one of his jumpsuits the rest of the crew wore, then you’re calling him Captain Law to egg on the joke further. All he does is tsk and roll his eyes, like all the time. But you can tell he’s gotten more comfortable with you, and you appreciated it.

Anyway, the town’s food was delectable, you grab some food to-go and eat it while taking a stroll through the busy streets, the smell of more food, presumably some fresh-baked bread met your nostrils and you sighed out of pure satisfaction.

Your partner, on the other hand, all but scowled.

Which gave you an idea.

“Law, let’s go try some bread. I bet they have it freshly baked the way it smells so good.” You hang off of his arm to try and get him to come with you. And he swears the close proximity shouldn’t make him feel weird. He’s been much closer and he’s seen you in much more vulnerable circumstances, but this was different.

He kinda regrets telling you about the bread thing.

“C’moooonnn, you’re a liar if you say you hate bread.” You’re pulling him by his arm now, insisting on getting him into the bakery to try some sweet bread. “I never said I hated it, I said I didn’t like the taste.” This is practically a push and pull game now, “People are looking at us. We’re keeping a low profile, remember?”

You pull away from him in complete and utter defeat and tuck your hands over your chest.

He doesn’t want to miss your touch, but once again, his heart betrays him. “You’re no fun.”

He doesn’t have to miss the skinship for long, almost instantly you’re body is hanging back off of his bicep, talking about the next subject of your absolute fascination, which now happened to be a huge teddy bear plushy that was on display at a ‘convenience’ store. Not only are you closer to him but he can feel your breasts pushing onto his arm. He shudders.

And he tries remaining calm and reminding himself to not be a pervert, you always did this. You always touched him, he touched you. You were doing this as a means for support to walk better (even though you’ve been walking fine for a while now). That’s it.

You interrupt the awkward silence between you two before he starts to feel the immense guilt come over him and he thanks you in his head. His very perverted head. “I feel so much better now that we’re on land again, I feel like I haven’t had fresh air my whole life.” You breathe in and breathe a heavy breath out. “You’re exaggerating, you were on deck not too long ago.”

Your next movement makes him tense, you lay your head on top of his tattooed shoulder. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Law.” And give his captured arm a little squeeze, inevitably making him feel your breasts so much more.

He wants to die.

Collecting himself, he clears his through, “You’re making it seem like this is a date. I’m just here to monitor your progress.” He looks at you then looks ahead.

“Why can’t it be a date?” You ask him, still hanging off of his arm.

If you didn’t feel him tense then, it was especially obvious now. And he was trying to mask how weird he felt when you said that, but every part of him felt really hot, and he prayed that his cheeks weren’t tomato red right now.

“Aww! Look at them, young love, huh?”

“Ooooh, they’re an attractive couple…”

“They’re so cute!”

He calls your name a little coldly, “Get off of my shoulder, you’re sending people the wrong message.” He actually didn’t mind it, but he swears he might die if he feels your breast push up on him one more time. “Sorry…” So you withdraw your body completely from his, (which he totally doesn’t regret at all) and you start your walk with him again, minus your body on his this time.

Letting your eyes wander once again and away from Law, you settle on a trinket store, and the idea of buying Usopp a little gift pops into your head immediately. Just because.

You walk into the store full of weird things galore. You settle on a super shiny thing first and when you pick it up, the salesmen is immediately by your side, “This is a one of a kind (doo-hicky) which can only be found on this here island! (you saw this thing at the convenience store as well) Usual price would be 20,000 berries, but for your pretty little self, I’ll make it 19!”

“Yeah, no.” He immediately deflates.

You continue your walk through the store and not shortly after you land on something that you immediately found more intriguing than the last.

“Law look at this! You would love this!” You turn around,

But there’s just one problem.

Law isn’t with you anymore.

Oh.

And when you wave the salesmen off empty-handed, he seems a little angered but bids his goodbye and fake come again! as well. You look towards the street and it seems like it’s gotten busier.

“Law’s going to kill me!”

You try fishing through the crowd and scanning for a white spotted hat, or fuzzy white fur, but everyone looks plain and simple. Which makes you think about how you guys kinda stick out like sore thumbs… anyway.

You search and search until you find that signature hat you’re looking for, excuse yourself in between what felt like hundreds of strangers and you catch up to him. You grab his hand in excitement, “Law!” Only for it to be quickly taken back, it was a stranger, with eyes that you’re sure could burn holes into you. You say your little sorry and resume your search.

After a long period of searching you’re drained, physically and mentally. You’re sure that if he found you he’d probably strap you down to your bed and not let you leave.

Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.

You’re defeated, extremely, entirely. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been outside like this for what felt like forever, maybe it was the fact that the sun was setting now, or even maybe it was ‘cause you needed Law with you the most right now. You find a near bench and just sit.

And maybe that exhaustion finally got the better of you, because you swore you could see his big muscular tattooed figure paired with Bepo's white fur walking towards you as you dose off into a really, really nice sleep.

The sound of one—no, two muffled voices wake you from your slumber, your vision is blurry, and if you were right about him saving you, you could hear what you assume to be Law’s medical instruments clacking together. A sound you’ve grown all too familiar with.

“Captain, you don’t think that’s a little harsh?”

“Did you see what she pulled out there?”

Bepo is silent for a bit, then sighs, “If you think it’s best for her.” He leaves the room on his own accord, leaving just you and the very scary man alone.

“I know you’re up.” He calls you with a firmness in his tone.

Much to your unwillingness, you sit up straight, tail between your legs. He looked a bit unkempt, and you couldn't pinpoint if it was because of you or something else. In whatever way, you felt a little guilty.

“Just plain reckless and obnoxious.” He towers over you, “I have a job to complete, and that requires you being taken care of.”

He's pacing around in your room-- the room, of his ship. Not yours. You've never seen him like this. Like he was distressed. He stills and looks at you. “You’re not coming out the rest of the week. You can wait until Straw Hat comes and picks you up.”

“What am I, a child?" You swing your legs around to meet the floor and pick yourself up.

"With the shit you just pulled, maybe."

With a scoff, "That's low, even for you, Law. It was an honest mistake and you're making it seem like I almost got us killed? You knew what you were getting into when you took me out!" you pinch your nose in a mix of frustration and some previous dizziness. "Sorry I can't be like Robin!"

Huh? Like who?

He immediately looks at you, and sees a little a tiny but of regret in your face. Like you had just got caught with a big secret.

Well maybe, that’s what it was.

“What is your deal with me and your crew mate, huh?”

Your confident demeanor is quick to fade away and if he didn’t know better, he would say that you were almost a bit embarrassed now. He really couldn’t tell what it was. You weren’t angry anymore, that was for certain. You’re not looking at him with those harsh eyes, you’ve been reduced to silence.

It makes him think a bit. He says your name in an attempt to get you to look at him and he succeeds almost barely.

“You wouldn’t happen to be…”

“Jealous?”

If there was ever a more dramatic gasp, it certainly couldn’t have topped the one that just came out your mouth. “How dare you! Not one bit!” Suddenly he has this new profound confidence to him, and his frustrations suddenly wiped clean off his mind. He looks at you with his grin all-knowing, and by God you hated when he did that. You wish you could have wiped it off and smacked it off of him.

“So explain to me, what’s the point of mentioning her again?” You don’t realize it, but he’s inching a bit closer while you’re avoiding any and all contact with him, you’re red. Red all over. Cheeks, ears, neck—everywhere. And you don’t know what to do with your hands, you can feel them collect sweat now. You don’t know why. Because his accusation was false.

He’s in front of you now.

“W-What are you doing? Law?” You scan his face because his stare down is relentless and unforgiving, and his hand finds its way up your neck and soon your chin. He’s awfully quiet. It’s unsettling. You put your hands on his chest to hopefully put a halt in the proximity. “Can you please te—”

His mouth is on yours. It’s a little shocking at first but you’re not pulling away.

And you don’t remember closing your eyes and snaking your hands around his neck, and pulling him in, but you do. His own tattooed hands found caressing your body. And the kiss was really, really passionate. He didn’t think it was gonna be this good, but he was wrong.

He was always wrong about you. Wrong about how he didn’t think you were right for him, wrong about your personality, attitude, everything. He really wanted to stay wrong until you would leave and he’d hardly have to see you again. He’s almost pissed he’s letting himself bask in your warmth and intimacy.

But now that he has it, he can’t go without it.

Few words are exchanged, but what he can do is guide you and put you back on your bed with your lips barely still connected trying to reach for each others and you think to yourself, for a man who claims to not have had so much going on in his love life he sure was skilled in whatever this was. He doesn’t want to take them off of yours. He can’t now. Your hands are under his shirt caressing every part of his torso. The feeling of his abs turned you on so much more and you felt your cunt throb a bit. You were aching for his body and he could tell, he takes his lips off yours with a whine from you that follows suit and immediately licks, sucks and kisses your neck, your audible satisfaction letting him know that he’s made you feel great.

“I need you… so bad.” You say in between huffs.

“How can I be so sure you deserve it?” He gets up, and takes his body off of yours, lips glossy. “How do I know that you won’t pass out on me, either?” He disguises his slight worry in a taunting statement, he’d try being as gentle as possible but he couldn’t make any promises.

“I won’t do that, and please Law. It was a mistake, honest. I need you inside. I wanted this so bad. Please!” You tug him by his shirt, urging him to come back down, he doesn’t. He thinks on your words a bit. You wanted this just as much as he did.

“Take your clothes off.”

He laughs at the very quick work you make of taking every single article of clothing, save for your bra and panties, off. There it was, the very image that kept him up for nights, shamefully touching himself to the thought of you on top of him, and him on top of you. Soon he joins, dropping his shirt and jeans and all else except his boxers, to the floor. He returns to your neck, his body on top of yours and you can feel his clothes dick pressing onto your clit ever so slightly, it draws a shaky breath out of you. “Do you know what you do to me?” He slides down your bra to continue his trail of kisses and licks on your nipples. “And you’re worrying about someone else. You’re so pathetic.”

You arch impossibly closer into him and start to buck your hips into his crotch.

“Need it sooo bad, put it inside me already, pleaaaaase!” His dick is throbbing in his boxers now. He shakes his head “You’re not prepped.”

“I’m wet enough, please baby. I need you inside of me.” You claw at his chest in an attempt to get what you want. Law’s a little taken aback by your very adamant declaration. But he should’ve figured as much, after all you were pretty straight to the point.

He refuses your request, he can’t. He goes down on you anyways, taking off your panties and the string of wetness that connected from your underwear to your cunt validated your statement. This was straight out of one of his wet dreams; you sprawled out and begging to be filled with his aching cock. He wanted more than anything to make you beg for him like your life depended on it to carry out the fantasy but, he was afraid he was just as desperate as you were right now. He continued and gently presses your legs up, swiping his thumb across your slit to test the waters (literally), your slick gathered onto his thumb and made a great lubricant, but he still wanted to make you feel good.

He licks his thumb clean and settles between your legs and gives your throbbing heat a few lips and sucks on your clit. He can feel you shake underneath him, and he separates your legs by your inner thighs to get a better angle.

The image in front of you made you hot, that’s all you could say about it. It made you hot and shaky and you thought you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you soon, Law hears your pleas, and to temporarily compensate for it, he sticks two fingers into you while he’s practically making out with your clit. You look down with an almost drowsy expression, your moans get so much louder but you don’t even care anymore. He was sexy and he was eating you out. That would be your excuse to anyone who dared to get too close to the door.

His two fingers were pretty big enough to even cause you a bit of trouble alone, and his constant prodding and scissoring made you seethe a bit, but you didn’t care because the pain and the pleasure mixed together made you feel the growing orgasm in your stomach. You shout his name, “I’m gonna— I’m g-gonna cum… mmm~” your whines and moans are breathy.

But he pulls away, and you look to him in shock. He gets up from his position and he’s on his knees in front of you, and he’s threatening the hem of his boxers, you quickly forget about your failed orgasm, knowing the main course was yet to come.

It almost feels like when he pulls down his boxers, time is in slow motion. Maybe because you wanted him extra due to the lack of action you were getting, and your inability to masturbate for the longest time, were you so eager to get him in your pants, nothing prepared you for when he pulled down his underwear.

And now you understood why he wanted to prepare you.

When he pulled them down, his cock shot right up and bounced a little bit before it was like it was staring right at you. You gulp. Because that’s all you could do. And you didn’t even want to look at Law in the eye because you know he was gonna give you some smug and shitty smirk. Like a hypnosis, you get in position and spread your legs further.

“You ready?” He puts one arm next to your head and crouches down a little bit, you can’t even speak. You just hum. You’re expecting him to get it over with, but now he’s just stroking your slit with that absolute beast, “You sure you’re ready?” And now you’re forced to look away from the heavenly scene and into his dumb and beautiful eyes.

“W-What was I saying for like the past 10 minutes? Put it in!” He only chuckles at how you jump at him, demanding him like you have any control. So he slides it in, head only. With your hand on his bicep, digging nails as you’re squeezing him both down there and with your hand that looks for some kind of help in his arm.

He removes his hand that pushes his cock inside and rests in on your chin to bring your eyes up to him, the action was so gentle it could’ve made you forget what was just going down. “Just look at me.” It makes your heart flutter.

And while you do, you feel so much better about the monster that’s sliding into you inch by inch. You furrow your eyebrows at him and chant his name like some sort of ritual. He’s almost all the way in, and the beads of tears in the corner of your eyes make him twitch inside of you with a groan. He looks at you like you hold the answer the all of his problems, like he just wants to be here with you only, and that’s exactly what it was. Like he’d pass away peacefully if it meant he passed away in between your legs.

Once he bottoms out, he stays there a little bit. He gives your lips a quick kiss before he moves into you, elbows on each side of your head while his hands are balled up into fists, your hands are snug around his neck while your legs wrap tightly around him. Each thrust is more powerful than the last, and he mentally curses at himself for not removing your bra so that he could see your tits jump freely. You’re on a different planet at this point, nothing has ever felt better. You look into his eyes, then down at what’s connecting you and you swear you could cum right there.

“‘F-Feels… so… good. Hah…” his thrusts find a comfortable pace now, “I feel full and good. Thank yoooouuummmm!”

And this is what you had been reduced to, thanking him for fucking you.

“Such a fuckin’ slut. Maybe I should keep you all to myself. For good.” His thrusts pick up a little bit now, “Straw Hat’s gonna have to fight me for this.” You whine in response. It took pretty quick for you to start to get cock-drunk off of him. He didn’t take you for the overly sensitive type but here you were, begging him and thanking him for some dick.

He would so use that against you later.

He kisses you again, and he’s settled into you a whole lot more. The position changed a little for his body to be closer to yours, and almost in an instant does your skin start slapping against each other. You were a moaning mess, the new position held so much intimacy and so much of him was on you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t stop. I’m almost there, I need it. Need it so bad. Let me have it!”

He gets a little slower as support for what he says next, “Beg a little more.”

“Please, Law! Please! I need you to make me cum! Please, make me cum. Please please please…” and they don’t stop. It looks like his fantasies came to life after all.

He lets you have it because—once again—he needs it just as much as you do, the last few thrusts come a little more quick-paced and it’s hitting you in the exact spot you needed to let yourself unfold.

With a loud call to his name, you cum. You came so hard you saw stars. And he just kept fucking you through it.“Fuck. M’Gonna f-fill you up.” He grunts and groans in an effort to reach his own moment of bliss and it’s quicker to hit him than he can comprehend, he cums inside of you and shivers a little bit in doing so, finding comfort in the crook of your neck in an effort to cover up how vulnerable he felt in that moment. No women could ever compare. He was a mess for it.

As for his fill inside of you, he’d just use his devil-fruit power to remove it, but right now he absolutely relished in the way it so effortlessly leaked out of you.

You were his, officially.

Collecting his own self, he pushes his body off of you, “You’re not going cold on me, are you?” He gets up off of the comfortable position once again, peering down at your fucked-out state.

“Would you give me a second? I thought you fucked me into another dimension for like half a minute.” You huff. He gives you your time while you catch your breath, he’s rubbing circles on each side of your hips to help alleviate the strain—well that’s the doctor for you. He’ll fuck you into the mattress and then help your muscles de-stress. You couldn’t deny the gentleness and how kind the gesture was and you soften up a bit.

Welp, so much for being cute, because his next words catch you a bit off guard during the tender moment, “Get on your hands and knees when you’re ready.”

But you’re up hilariously quick anyway. And he’s already half hard from waiting for you. Your figure from the back was something he’d think back on for many nights, but getting to see your face was beyond compare.

You whimper at his slow pace, “I’m ready, c’mon!” You comedically and desperately wiggle your ass in front of him, he wants to laugh but it was really fucking sexy, the way you yearned for him, and he holds your hip with one hand, lining himself up once again. The hard part wasn’t so difficult this time around, and he pushes himself inside of you a little too eagerly, almost giving away his own very need. He starts to thrust into you again, and being inside of you was like heaven on earth. Though it wasn’t even 2 minutes that he was fucking you before, he was sensitive this time around, and he had to go slower to start.

“Fuck… that feels so good.” You hum a moan in a little more than approval. He’s sliding more of it into you, watching how his cock disappears inside.

The best thing about this position is how you wouldn’t be able to see his face, how pussy-whipped he looked. If he went any faster he could cum, so he needed to start slow.

You were far past the sensual and slowness. You needed it fast and hard. “Law, go faster!”

He trusts himself enough to be a little bolder in what he says now that you can’t see his face. “Don’t call me by my name. What do you call me in this room? On this ship?” Very assertive with his proclamation. But he can feel your hesitance.

He smacks your ass, and you jump a bit, clenching around him very tightly. “I said, what do you call me?”

“C-Captain, please… please go faster.”

He stops. And he swears he might be torturing his own self more.

If it meant for how much you begged and whined for it, though, he wasn’t so mad.

“If you want to go faster so bad, fuck me yourself.”

You almost want to cry from how brutal he sounded, but the vulgarity of his words makes you clench around him again. And so, you start to thrust back into him, fucking him while he watched you.

With the first few thrusts you’re already clutching the sheets below you, and it’s taking more power than you thought it would. You can’t bring yourself to stop, though. The way it felt, it was too good.

“How does it feel?”

“S-So good, Cap.” Your eyes rolled into your skull.

“You gonna make your captain cum?”

“Mhhmm~”

With a breathy voice he says, “Guess this is my reward for taking such good care of you, huh? All paid off. I don’t usually get this special treatment from my usual patients.”

“I’m n-not a usual… patient.” You hardly breathe out.

He grips both sides of your hips to make you stop in your movement and he shuffles a bit, not long after is he asking you, “Are you gonna be good from now on?”. You say yes, a thousand times over. He moves like he did before, only just picking up his thrusts quicker and quicker. The sound of his skin meeting yours makes its return only louder. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Couldn’t possibly be. You’re too special. Made just for me.”

“Yes *thrust* Captain! *thrust*”

His leg is raised to the side to get a better angle into your cunt and he feels a second orgasm quickly approaching. He’s so sweaty, drenched. His hair clings onto his forehead and his hands can barely take grip on your skin anymore. Fuck, he moans. He’s getting dizzy now. This is the best he’s felt in a while.

You, on the other hand, have your face pressed in the sheets with your orgasm on quick approach. You’re sensitive, too sensitive. And you cum with a loud whine, all your liquids spraying onto him like it was comical. He came not so far after you, with his head falling back and a breathy moan.

You both try to catch your breaths before he fell on top of you. He kissed your shoulder as his own little thank you and rolled over on the very much drenched mattress. You lay on top of him while your whole body shook and he quickly wraps his arm around your figure.

You two sit in a comfortable silence to try catching your breaths and try pacing yourselves so you could relax. And surprisingly, Law is the first to speak.

And you wish he kept quiet.

“Never pinned you for the jealous type.”

“Oh would you quit it already? You’re so good at ruining soft moments!” You push him lightly, you roll over on the other side of the mattress and he immediately grabs you back. He was so annoying.

If he asked you to stay with him, would you have done it? No, that was wishful thinking. He’s seen with his own very eyes how much Straw Hat loved you. This is the thing he dread the most about this, he shouldn’t have done it. He brought you into his own sick and dark fantasy, he came inside of you, for fucks sake. It was too intimate. It was wishful thinking on his end, all of it.

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling and absentmindedly giving your body a squeeze.

“‘This a one time thing?” He asks to try and ground himself.

He doesn’t know what to make of the situation, because it was beyond amazing. It was phenomenal. And it was with someone special. He didn’t want to admit it but, you were special to him and it hurt to think that you’d likely leave him and not see him for a long time coming.

But you’re quick, “No, better not be!” You get up and sit on the bed, and he doesn’t understand how you’re up. He should be the one to get up. “Unless you declare me your enemy once I leave.” Your fingers are dancing on his chest, tracing the tattoos on his body, “But I’m fine with being with you like this. It can be our little secret anytime we see each other. Especially that captain thing, you freak.”

He laughs, and your words do bring him that relief. He pulls you by your arm for a tender kiss, something you were a bit surprised by.

Law was fine with it, he’d take what he can get for now, as long it meant he could be with you.

#law trafalgar #law trafalgar x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #zoro x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law Trafalgar smut

2K notes · View notes

flowersforbucky · 3 months ago

Text

all's well that ends well to end up with you

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together.

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: SMUT, 18+ only mdni, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, nipple play, reader is afab, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader is described as being shorter than bucky, fluffy as hell, sweet domesticity

wrote this for my bb @embbarnes 💕 happy (very early) valentine's day, everyone!

Of all the ways you had been hoping to spend the last few hours of Valentine’s Day, over 30,000 feet in the air next to a snoring man who has never heard of deodorant was at the bottom of your list.

You should have seen it coming from the moment that your two day mission was extended to a three day mission, but you naively held out hope that you’d be able to make it back home in time to salvage the second half of the day.

Getting back early enough to keep the seven o’clock dinner reservations that you’d made for a new, upscale steakhouse in Brooklyn would have been possible if a last minute thunderstorm hadn’t delayed your flight back to New York.

Now it’s already half past seven, and you’ll be lucky if you make it back home before midnight.

Truthfully, you don’t care about the dinner reservations. Sure, you’d heard great things about the food and you had been excited to go, but you could easily reschedule the reservations for another time. The only thing that you were truly bummed about was not getting to spend the day with Bucky.

Today is your first Valentine’s Day as a couple, and instead of spending it with him, you’re spending it on a commercial flight with dozens of strangers. You can’t help but wonder how many of them are missing their significant other, too.

If you’d had it your way, you would have woken up to his face this morning. The two of you would have slept in as late as you desired, and had a slow, lazy morning before cooking him brunch. Waffles, sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs with extra cheese and hot sauce – all of his favorites. You would have taken a stroll through the park before stopping at the bakery that you frequent for doughnuts and coffee, and maybe visited the botanical gardens before your dinner reservations this evening.

Bucky had assured you that it wasn’t a big deal and that the two of you would make up for it when you were back home. He patiently reminded you that life doesn’t take holidays and special occasions into consideration when dishing out things such as extended work trips and inclement weather conditions.

Valentine’s Day aside, you simply miss him. You’ve been missing him since the moment you left for Nebraska, and you’re more than ready to be back in his arms. This is not the first time you’ve been apart due to work related trips, but this is by far the longest – a whopping seven days.

You miss the way he wants to keep at least one hand on you throughout the night, the way he talks to Alpine as if she will actually respond, and the way that he hums without even noticing that he’s doing it. All of the seemingly little things that you don’t think much of on a day to day basis, but when you’re apart, make you miss him all the more.

By the time your flight lands in New York and you catch an Uber back to your apartment, it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Bucky, of course, had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you had insisted that you were okay with getting an Uber, not wanting him to get out so late at night in the heavy rain.

Plus, if he had picked you up, it would have ruined your plan to surprise him by stopping by his favorite pizza parlor down the block from your apartment on your way home. Sal’s Pizzeria is always open until midnight, and every year they run specials the entire week of Valentine’s Day on heart-shaped pizzas.

Knowing Bucky, he’s likely been living off of instant Ramen since you left for your trip, so you figure he’ll be ecstatic over a late night pizza. Not to mention, you’re famished yourself – all you’ve eaten since lunch being the pack of Biscoff cookies you’d been given on the plane.

Lugging your suitcase, a backpack, and the large pizza box, you fumble with your keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

At first, you assume that Bucky is already asleep. But as you walk down the short hallway, you realize there’s soft music playing from somewhere in the apartment. You don't think much of it, since you know that Bucky prefers playing music as opposed to the television for background noise.

It’s almost completely dark, minus low orange lighting that trickles into the hallway from the kitchen.

“I’m home, baby,” you call softly as you approach the kitchen’s entryway. “I know it’s late, but I brought you some pizza, if you're hun—”

You stop dead in your tracks when you step into the kitchen. Dozens of tea light candles illuminate the room, placed strategically on the island in the middle of the room. And on the countertops, and the shelves – basically any flat surface twinkles with the delicate flames.

You stand frozen as a statue with your mouth agape as you take in the scene before you. In addition to the candles, there’s a spread of food across the island. Plates of delicious smelling pasta, small bowls of soup and glasses of red wine. Tied to the backs of the barstools are red and pink heart-shaped balloons.

It looks straight out of a romance movie.

“Pizza pairs well with pasta, I think,” Bucky's voice breaks you out of your trance. “Can never have too many carbs.”

Your gaze snaps over to where he emerges from the den. He wears a bashful smile, and even in the low glow of the candlelight, you can see the faint hint of blush blooming across the apples of his cheeks. He has his hands behind his back, as if trying to conceal something from you.

“You did all of this?” You ask lamely. Your voice is barely a whisper and contains a noticeable quiver. “For me?”

You can’t wrap your brain around it. No one has ever done anything quite like this for you. All of your ex boyfriends always shrugged off Valentine’s Day, leaving you feeling lucky if you got so much as a card. You’d long ago learned not to expect much of anything. Definitely not anything as intimate and thoughtful as this.

“Of course for you,” he murmurs with a low chuckle. He saunters over to where you’re still standing with the pizza box clutched in your hands, and pulls what appears to be a bouquet of flowers in a large mason jar out from behind his back.

“Who else would it be for? Alpine?” He teases, extending the jar to you. You plop the box onto the counter so that your hands are free to accept the flowers.

Upon closer inspection, you realize the bouquet of flowers are not real flowers.

Well, yes and no – they’re wildflowers, made of out Legos. You can’t help but giggle, remembering how you had mentioned how cute you think the Lego set is when you saw it while buying some groceries at Target a few weeks ago. You giggle even harder when you picture Bucky assembling all of the tiny pieces of the bouquet with his large, vibranium fingers.

Your eyes begin to well with tears that threaten to spill over. You quickly blink them back, not wanting to show just how emotional the ornate, colorful arrangement of plastic flowers is making you.

Not just the bouquet – all of it. The food and the wine, the balloons, the candles, the forties music playing lowly from the record player in the living room – the sheer amount of time and attention that he put into creating such a romantic display, and all from the comfort of your home.

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, wiping away a stray tear with sleeve of your sweater. You place the mason jar of the plastic flowers in the midst of the spread of food in front of you, making the scene complete.

“It’s all perfect.” He opens his arms to you, and you happily melt into his embrace. He smells of his familiar earthy cologne, and you can’t help but inhale deeply, relishing in the comfort of his scent and warmth.

Even if you’d come home to him passed out in bed, you would’ve been ecstatic to just crawl under the covers beside him. All of this is more than you ever would have hoped for.

“All I got you is a lousy heart-shaped meat lovers pizza,” you sniffle against his t-shirt and you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. You know that you have the reasonable excuse of being on an assignment in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere Nebraska for the last week, but you still feel bad.

“Hey,” he murmurs, using his index finger to tilt your face to look up at him. He grins down at you for a moment before tenderly pressing his lips against yours. You melt into him right away, having missed the feeling of his lips on yours in the week that you’ve been apart.

His hands travel to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Your own hands cradle his face, your thumbs caressing the light dusting of stubble that adorns his cheeks. You can already feel the outline of an erection forming through the thin material of his pajama pants when he pulls away, much to your disappointment.

“I love meat lovers pizza,” he assures you with a smirk. “And I love you. The best present you could give me is coming home to me.”

“Still. I’m going to make it up to you,” you promise with a feather light kiss to his lips. “I promise. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to—”

You’re cut off by a low rumbling noise that sounds from between your bodies – a reminder that you haven’t eaten a substantial meal in twelve hours now. You glance over to the plates of food on the island beside you, inhaling the delicious aroma of the dishes.

“I made an educated guess that you’d be hungry,” Bucky chuckles. He reluctantly drops his hold on your waist and moves to pull the barstool out for you. You hop up, taking your seat in front of a heaping plate of pasta and a bowl of French onion soup. Your stomach growls again at the sight.

“Did you make all of this?” You ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. It’s not that Bucky is a bad cook – he has a few go-to meals that are always excellent, but he normally doesn’t stray too far out of his comfort zone.

“I did not,” he admits with a sigh. He takes a seat directly across from you. “I ordered takeout from the bistro down the street before they closed earlier. Heated it all back up when you texted me that you were almost home.”

“Well, it’s fucking delicious,” you mumble through a mouthful of the creamy pasta.

You eat together in the glow of the candlelight, with soft music playing in the background and heavy rain beating down against the windows of your apartment. You talk about everything from the details of your mission to what he did while you were away. The food is delicious, the wine he picked out pairs perfectly, it’s cozy and peaceful and romantic – and you realize that you’re enjoying this so much more than you ever would have enjoyed an upscale steakhouse in downtown Brooklyn.

You both end up being too full of pasta and soup to eat any of the pizza that you’d brought home, but you’re happy that you’ve got a whole pizza to look forward to having for lunch tomorrow.

“Thank you, baby,” you tell him after swallowing the last sip of your wine. “For all of this. It was more than I could’ve hoped for today.”

He reaches across the counter, grabbing your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. “Of course,” he murmurs against your skin, eliciting goosebumps down your arm. “As much as I wish we could’ve spent the day together, I still wanted to make the last hour of it as special as possible.”

He stands, releasing your hand as he begins to collect the empty plates and glasses. “You go on and get ready for bed, yeah? I’ll clean up in here.”

“Nonsense. It's almost midnight. These dishes can wait until the morning. Just stick them in the sink and come shower with me.”

You don’t even care if the whole apartment still smells of garlic and French onion soup in the morning – you’ve been showering and sleeping without him for the last week, and it’s still technically Valentine’s Day, so you’ll allow the dirty dishes to sit for the next eight hours.

To your pleasant surprise, he needs no further convincing. He piles the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and puts the uneaten pizza in the fridge while you get the shower water up to temperature. By the time his pajamas fall to the bathroom floor, you’re already standing under the hot stream of water.

He opens the shower door, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as soon as his eyes trail up and down your body. The way he looks at you never fails to make you feel like he’s seeing you naked for the very first time, every time.

His hands immediately come to rest on your hips, easing you back against the cool tiling of the shower wall. “God, I missed you,” he sighs as he massages his fingers into the meat of your hips. The contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold vibranium hand on your waist has you arching into his touch.

“I can tell,” you giggle, pulling his face down to yours by the back of his neck. His mouth slates over yours, his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip. You part your lips for him right away, more than ready to feel and taste him after all of your time away.

He nudges your legs apart with his knee, inserting one of his large thighs in-between your own. You sink your bare pussy onto the expanse of his muscular thigh, dragging your center across him for friction. He kisses you until you’re breathless, and only pulls away to instead latch his mouth over one of your nipples. He rolls it between his lips and tongue, using his hold on your waist to help move you up and down his thigh. He alternates between each nipple, kissing and sucking on each until they’re pert and pebbled.

His erection gains your attention as it juts against your belly. You reach between your bodies, taking his length in your hand and stroking him with ease, the water from the shower making his skin slick.

You whimper above him, desperate for some release. He laughs, peppering kisses across your breasts and up your neck. You feel him smiling into the column of your throat.

“I think you missed me, too,” he murmurs against your pulse point.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice etched with impatience. “Why don’t we hurry and get out this shower so I can show you just how much I missed you?”

He presses a final kiss to the side of your neck before pulling away and smirking down at you. He reaches over to one of the shelves in the shower, grabbing a loofah and your bottle of body wash.

“I’ll have you know that I showered before you got home,” he says as he squirts a dollop of the gel onto the sponge. “I’m just here for your entertainment – and your convenience, of course. Now turn around.”

You do as he says, turning around to face the shower wall. You brace yourself against the tiles with your forearms, relaxing as he begins to massage the soap across the tops of your shoulders and down your back.

He takes his time, lazily rubbing the skin of the backs of your thighs before reaching around and doing the same to your stomach and chest. As good as it feels, all you can focus on is the head of his cock nudging against the curve of your ass.

“Bucky.”

The word comes out somewhere between a moan and a warning – a warning that if he doesn’t finish lathering your body in the next two seconds so you can rinse the fuck off, you’re going to take matters into your own hands.

“What is it, baby?” he asks innocently, stepping forward ever so slightly so that his cock inches between the space where your thighs meet your ass.

You turn back to face him, grabbing the loofah out of his hand and tossing it to the opposite end of the shower. The stream of water that beats down against your bodies washes the suds down the drain.

“You’re really going to tease me like that? On Valentine’s Day, of all days?”

“Pretty sure it’s after midnight now,” he quips with a smirk.

You turn so that you’re out of the direct line of the water, and lower yourself to the shower floor. His cock bobs inches in front of your face. You grasp him in your hand, languidly stroking his length as you stare up at him.

“Then I guess you’re lucky that I missed you so much.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but snaps it shut with a sharp intake of breath when you wrap your lips around his tip. You swirl your tongue around him, lapping up the beads of pearlescent white that had gathered around his slit. You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

Above you, he throws his head back and hisses at the sensation. His metal hand cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements. You gag at the overwhelming fullness, pulling away from him for air. You ease him back into your mouth, setting a steady pace. He rocks his hips forward, meeting your movements with his own.

In one hand, you cup his balls, gently massaging the sack. With your free hand, you attempt to relieve the growing ache between your own thighs by rubbing quick circles over your clit. The thrusts of his hips start to grow erratic, and you feel him twitch against your tongue when he suddenly pulls away from you.

“Not gonna cum in your mouth,” he answers when he looks down to see your questioning stare. “Not tonight. Missed you too much.”

He pulls you up by the tops of your arms and eases you back against the shower wall once more. He then takes your place on the floor, kneeling in front of you. He trails kisses along the wet skin of your thighs as he hooks one over his shoulder. He wastes no more time, diving into your pussy. His tongue swirls over your clit as he brings one long, metal finger to tease your hole. He nudges it inside as his lips suction around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of your folds.

Your body goes relaxed, your back sliding down the wet tiling of the shower wall. Bucky helps support you from down below as he sinks his vibranium digit deeper inside you.

The coil in your lower belly tightens quickly, pent up from a whole week without his touch. He can always tell when you’re close by the little noises that you make and the way that you tug on the short brown locks of his hair with your fingers.

He groans as he licks a thick strip up your slit, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you, your cunt clenching around his thick vibranium finger as he sucks your clit until you go still above him.

It's then that it hits you that the water from the shower has started to run cold.

“Come on,” Bucky says, rising as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He turns the faucet off and grabs the two towels that hang over the glass wall of the shower, handing you one before wrapping his around his waist. “Let's get out of here. I’ve got one more gift to give you before we continue this.”

“Another gift? You’ve already done so much. I didn’t even get—”

He gently shushes you with a sly grin, exiting the shower before you can protest any further. You pat your skin dry before securing the towel around your chest and then follow him into your shared bedroom.

Alpine is snoring softly at the foot of your king sized bed, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re even home. Everything is exactly as you left it, from the stack of half finished books on your nightstand to the orange Himalayan salt rock lamp that hasn’t been turned off a single time since the two of you moved into the apartment together. The comfort and familiarity of everything makes you feel all the more grateful to be back home.

You grab a bottle of lotion off of your bedside table and begin lathering it onto the skin of your legs as you watch Bucky rummage through the drawer of his own nightstand. After a moment, he pulls out a small, dark red colored box.

“Catch!” He warns before gently tossing it across the bed to you. You catch it, a smile blooming across your face as you sooth your thumb over the velvet material encasing the small box. He walks over to your side of the bed to stand beside you.

You raise the lid to box, revealing a dainty gold chain with a capital letter B dangling in the center.

You think it’s perfect. It’s isn’t overly ostentatious – it’s the perfect size, and so very you.

“Do you like it?” Bucky asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“I love it,” you assure him, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful he is. “Help me put it on?”

You don’t care that it’s the middle of the night, you want it on you right now.

Bucky takes the box from you, carefully removing the necklace. You turn away from him, letting him drape the delicate chain around your neck. The charm lands just below your clavicle.

“There,” he murmurs as he clasps the chain together. You turn back to face him, letting him see his initial displayed across your chest. “Perfect.”

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper as you raise up on your feet to press your lips to his. The light flavor of your slick lingers on his lips, sending a fresh wave of arousal through your gut. “So much.”

“Of course,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Now lay down. Wanna see how it looks on ya without the towel.”

••••••

thanks so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes imagine

2K notes · View notes

aur0ral1ghts · 29 days ago

Text

ᴄʟᴜᴇʟᴇss

ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʜᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ʏ/ɴ, ʙᴜᴛ sʜᴇ ʜᴀs ɴᴏ ɪᴅᴇᴀ. ʜᴇ's ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ sɪɴᴄᴇ 3ʀᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀ. ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ. ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅs ʜᴇʀ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs; ᴋɪssɪɴɢ. ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ. ғʟᴜғғ!!

ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ.

Mattheo has been in love with Y/n ever since their 3rd year, and pretty much the second they met, Mattheo fell. Hard. But he couldn't help it, i mean, the way her dimples show whenever she giggles or the way her eyebrows furrow when she's confused. He noticed pretty much every single detail of you. Your favorite subjects, favorite candy, favorite color. He didn't mean to be creepy. He was just an observing person.

FLASH BACK...

"Give me my books book!" You had muttered, trying your best to stand up to the two 5th year students who had just taken your books, holding them up, over your head. "Not a chance." One of them smiled viciously, taunting you even more by swinging the books. Then, a flash of white light came, along with someone yelling a hex at them both, instantly knocking them down like dominoes. Your books had been knocked out of their hands, landing directly infront of your feet. You gasped as someone stepped out from behind them.

Mattheo Riddle.

You knew about Mattheo but never actually spoke to him. You knew he had a bad reputation. You knew better than to speak to him.

"Uh.. thank you.." You quickly muttered, picking up your books in a rush. "You're welcome." He says smiling like he's your knight in shining amor. "I'm Mattheo." He says, extending his hand. He didn't bother mentioning his last name in front of you. He didn't want to scare you off like he scared many other kids away. "I'm Y/n." You exclaim, hesitating for a second before shaking his hand. You always believed that there's good in everyone. "Uh, so, how did you manage to knock two fifth years off their feet!?" You question, genuinely curious. "I have my ways." He smirks, leaning against a wall, flashing a cheesy charming smile to you.

Throughout the week, you would constantly bump into Mattheo, leading him to start a conversation and follow you around. You genuinely enjoyed his company. He followed you, kinda like a lost puppy.

It was Friday, and you were minding your business, studying in the libary when Mattheo suddenly popped up, sitting down next to you. "You'll never guess what just happened today!" He says. "Mattheo." You pause. "If you really want to be friends, just ask instead of following me around." You exclaim, looking at him. "Uh, okay." He pauses, clearing his throat. "Would you want to be friends, Y/n?" He asks. You nodded. "Now it's official." You smile. "Anyways, what happened?" You asked him.

Ever since the 6th year, his crush on you began to grow every time you guys hung out. He tried to give you hints, like not paying attention to any girl but you, showing hints of jealously whenever someone would ask you out in front of him. He even asked you out on valentines Day! But you mistoke it for a friends-valentines day! "Oh, thank you, Mattheo!" You smile, taking the flower bouquet from him. "This is why you're my best friend!" You exclaim, patting his back. His smile turned quickly into a frown. "Yeah.. friends." He quietly muttered.

His stomach always dropped whenever you referred to you guys as simply friends. Mattheo always yearned for you. He didn't want to be just friends. He wanted to be more. He wanted you all to himself. His fists would clenched, his knuckles turning white as he thought back to urge to slam you into the nearest wall and kiss you every time you dared to utter the word "friend."

It was Saturday, and previously Mattheo had asked you to go to Hogsmeade with me. You agreed.

So you sat at your vanity applying some blush to your cheeks, then you heard a knock at your door. You quickly jolted up to answer it.

"Hi Mattheo!" You smile. Mattheo quickly muttered a quick hello. He felt his cheeks heating up, and it hadn't even been 10 seconds. He smelt your familiar scent lingering in the air. "I'm almost ready. I just need to do my hair. Sit on my bed." You exclaim, going back to your vanity, Mattheo walked over to your bed, sitting down on the edge of it. He watched as you pulled out a hairbrush and a hairtie. He saw your reflection in the mirror holding the hair tie in your mouth as you tied up your hair. His breath hitched as you finally tied up your hair and grabbed your purse. "Okay, I'm ready." You say, heading for the door.

He nodded as you followed you out. "Your awfully quiet." You state, your hands behind your back as he walked beside you. "Oh, sorry. Just a lot on my mind." He forced an apologic smile. "It's fine. I get it." You replied back.

But you don't.

Mattheo wanted to say back. You certainly did not get how hard it was for him. "And before you ask - I'll buy you a ton of chocolate frogs." He chuckled. Every time you guys would go together, you will always beg him to buy you chocolate frogs. "Thank you." You smile, angling your head to look up at him. Mattheo was at least a foot taller than you. "You're welcome." He grinned.

You two arrived at Hogsmeade, the scent of butterbeer, and freshly baked pastries flooded your nostrils.

"Where should we go?" You asked. "Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop?" He suggested. You nodded, grinning. It was one of your favorite places in all of Hogsmeade. You two made your way to the shop, opening the door, a bell jingled as the worker greeted you. You looked at all the food, unsure of what to pick. "Mattheo, I need help. Should I get a pumpkin pastry or sticky toffee pudding?"

"Pumpkin pastry." He replied. You walked up to the counter. "Two pumpkin pastries, please." You said, handing the lady the coins. She quickly took the pastrys from the display and then handed them to you."

"Here." You said, giving Mattheo one. "Thank you, I'm starving!" He sighed in relief, taking a huge bite, devouring the whole thing in a single bite. "You're such an idiot." You chuckled as you took a much smaller bite of the treat. "Three broomsticks next?" You questioned. He nodded, mouth still full of the pumpkin pastry.

You walk in the three broomsticks, seeing some familiar faces from school. "Hi Luna and Neville!" You greet. "Wanna see the socks i bought?" Luna asks you, holding up a pair of fluffy socks with a ladybug pattern on them. "They're so cute!" You exclaim. "Thank you!" She thanks, as she takes a sip of her butterbeer, a mustache of whipped cream appearing on her cheeks. "See you around!" You wave, sitting down at a booth next to Mattheo. Your knees practically touching. The candle in the middle of the table lit up the stone bricks around it. You looked out the window next to you, just simply admiring the scenery. The many students coming out of honeydukes with a variety of sweets in their hands.

Mattheo took this time to his advantage. He sat there, a hand placed under his chin, just staring at you, his eyes burning into you. He saw a loose strand of hair. He extended his hand and placed it behind your ear, making you snap of your trance. You gave him a quick smile. Mattheo felt his heart beating. It was beating so loud he thought you would hear it. Suddenly, the waiter came up to you guys, smiling, her hair slightly greying. "What can I get for you?" She said, gesturing to Mattheo. Mattheo placed his order of a single butterbeer. "And what can I get for your girlfriend?" She smiled. Mattheo quickly slient. His pulse rushing. "Oh, uh." You butted in. "We're actually just friends. And I'll have a butterbeer aswell, thanks." You smiled back like it was the most normal thing ever. "Oh, I'm so sorry! And sure thing." She awkwardly said, writing frantically in her notepad. "No worries." You laughed. Mattheo stared dumbstruck at you. He just wanted to slam you against the table and kiss you. But due to your cluelessness, you would miskate it as a friendly act.

"Mattheo?" You snapped him out of his thoughts. "Oh, erm. Yeah?" He said. "Are you gonna try out for Quidditch this year?" You asked him, and your knee was awfully close to his. "Probably, as long as Blaise tries out." He shurgged. "If you do, I'll make sure to come watch with one of my friends." You exclaimed, fidgeting with your bracelet on your hand. He had previously given you the golden bracelet for your birthday. It was detailed with small gems.

The same lady came back shortly with two butterbeers in her hand. She placed them in front of both of you. "Enjoy!" She murmured, walking away. You reached out for the mug in front of you, and the mug was still chilly. "Wanna go back to Hogwarts after?" He asked. "Sure, besides, I need time to finish an assignment anyway." You replied back, taking a sip of butterbeer. "Maybe we can study together?" He said, also taking a sip, his hands wrapped around the mug. "Yeahhh, like you're not just gonna copy off mine." You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. "I won't!" He promised, holding his hands up in the air.

After 20 minutes, you finally finished your butterbeer, Mattheo finished his long before you did. He carefully sipped his drink while listening to your crazy stories. Mattheo was pretty patient when it came to listening to your stories. Even if they were a little silly, he found that time to stare at you without question, but he was paying attention, he would eventually respond, and you would take that time to take a chug at your drink.

"You ready to go?" Mattheo said, getting up from his seat. "Yup." You nodded, following him out. He held the door open for you. When you walked outside, a gust of wind blowed in your face, causing the two to lose strands of hair infront of your face to blow frantically. "Shit, its cold." You said hugging yourself. You only had a thin knit sweater on. "Here, take my jacket." He said, offering you his jacket. "Thank you!" You sighed in relief, standing in front of the three broomsticks. He put the jacket over you, his smell of his colange filled your nostrils as he stood behind you.

You noticed a rather cute boy walking past you. His charming smile caught your attention as he walked with a group of his friends. "Whos that?" You asked casually, as if it didn’t matter, but a small smile tugged at your lips. "Oh, he's in Slytherin like me. I think he's a 7th year." He shurgged, but it felt like his heart had been stepped on. He hated that you were eyeing another boy when he was right there. Waiting and yearning for you, he hated how you didn't realize it.

His eyes glared into the guys head, his stupid blonde curls framing his face. He was obviously jealous of him but didn't dare utter a word. "Do you reckon he has a girlfriend?" You asked absentmindedly while he walked into honeyduked with his mates. "Probably." Was all he could say.

"Stay put, im going to ask." You quickly said before dashing off to the store entrance. "Y/n, wait!" Mattheo mumbled, grabbing onto your hand and pulling you into the nearest alleyway. His breath is hot and heavy. "Mattheo, what?" you mumbled. "I can't keep this in anymore. Look y/n, i think you're the most stunning girl I've ever laid eyes on. I've been trying to signal to you ever since 3rd year- and my heart drops to my stomach every time you call us "just friends." I even tried to ask you out on valentines Day, and you just thought I was asking as friends!" He pauses. "Y/n..my heart yearns for you. It always has, please just understand..." he then leans in and gently kisses you. You don't respond or react. You just stand there, completely dumbstruck. Then he pulled away, his hand still on your waist. "Mattheo.." you stuttered out, reaching a finger to touch your lips. "I'm... sorry." He muttered, looking down, his cheeks red. "No, I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for being so blind-" You pause. "And I'm sorry for what I'm about to do.." you confess, kissing him again, both for your hands on his cheeks.

"Fucking hell, Y/n. You have no damn idea how long I've been thinking about doing this." He mutters in-between kisses.

A/n: I'm so sorry if this sucks, my metal health hasn't been the best. I think I might take a small break; but if you have any requests, I will do them, but I won't write any of my own ideas for a while.

This idea was really fun to write.

503 notes · View notes

cosmosluckycharms · 3 months ago

Text

Bug Like Angel

Valentine

You had spent the last few hours making your special Valentine's Day cookies.

After years of attempts at them, you had finally perfected the recipe.

You were so excited to finally give them out to your friends!

Each cookie was decorated as a heart in their favorite color.

Red for Miles, purple for Gwen, pink for Peni, etc.

You were practically jumping for joy as soon as they were done.

You started to pack each one in their respective packaging, along with a little sticker of their name on the plastic.

As soon as you started putting them into your container to give them out, you felt your phone buzzing and ringing.

You put the cookies down and checked the contact.

It was Pavitr!

You picked up the call

"Hey Pavi! What up?" You asked while finishing up putting the cookies into the container

"Y/N! WE HAVE TO GO HELP MILES AND GWENS DATE GO WELL!"

Oh yeah. You forgot you and Pav accidentally both got Miles and Gwen to ask each other out for Valentine's.

Miles had called Pavitr for advice on how to ask "a girl out".

He was trying to hide how it was Gwen, despite everyone and their moms knowing how bad of a crush he had on her.

Pavitr ended up telling him to draw Gwen a portrait of a picture of the two sitting next to each other you had taken secretly and get her some flowers.

☆You were helping Gwen, who was also trying to ask Miles out.

She called you, very jittery, and told you she wanted to "get it over with" and just ask him out.

You helped her make a poem for him and compose him a song. You also helped her make a bouquet of paper flowers made from little pictures of them together.

You and Pavitr bonded over how you both were practically playing Cupid for Gwen and Miles.

"Alright, gimmie a sec though, where are we going to meet?" You asked, putting the container down and rushing to your room

"Meet me at Miles' universe, we have to watch over them and make sure nothing ruins today! I've been waiting for this for so long!"

You could hear his excitement over the phone, it was clear he was practically jumping up and down.

"Okay, I'll be there, bye Pavii!!" you hung up the phone and started getting ready.

You didn't know your family was home.

You didn't know how they'd been eying them all day assuming they were being made by Alfred.

You didn't know they couldn't wait to eat them.

All your brothers (?) decided to eat your cookies without bothering to ask anyone if it was theirs.

Sure, they forgot about you, but if you saw individually wrapped cookies tied up with a bow wouldn't you ask about it?

After they ate it, they even left the wrappers! They didn't even clean up their mess!

And sure, you didn't have to clean it up, alfred noticed the names on the wrappers and recognized one of them as one of your friends that you would talk about.

He called down the boys and asked why they ate the cookies. They didn't even deny eating them.

Their stomachs sank when they found out you had made those cookies for your friends.

They spent hours trying to remake the cookies from scratch. They didn't know when you'd be home.

They ended up finishing with them being messy and kind of gross tasting, nothing like how you made them!

Maybe you wouldn't notice?

The date was going well! You and Pavitr ended up fighting Green Goblin while trying to keep Miles and Gwen's date safe, clearing the streets of people trying to mug them, and setting everything up perfectly, but by the end of it, everything was perfect!

You managed to take a cute photo of Gwen and Miles kissing in the sunset, too!

You were sure nothing could ruin today!

You just had to run home and get the cookies so you could give them out, and then you could go to bed! You were exhausted!

You told Pavitr to walk into the kitchen with you so he could see how cute they were!

Your brothers saw through the camera as you and your friend walked into the kitchen and you handed him a cookie.

You saw as pavitrs face shift as he took a bite of it. Like he was trying to figure something out.

"What's wrong, Pavi?" You asked while taking the rest of the cookie and holding it in your hand.

"It tastes...Off. Like usually your cookies taste.... differently? I can't put my finger on it, though." You listened to him and then took a bite of the cookie as well.

You immediately spit it out.

It was so gross, nothing like how you made them!

"What the hell? I could've sworn these tasted better when I left them!" You started going through your mental checklist on how you could've messed it up.

It wasn't until you looked at the cameras around the kitchen on your phone that you found out your brothers ate them, rebaked them horribly, and tried to play it off.

You profusely apologized to Pavitr, he didn't deserve to eat that hot mess!

"It's okay!" he rubbed your back as you had your hands in your hair.

"it's not okay it's not, you know on Roblox-!" he hit you playfully on the back of the head for making a dumb reference.

It took him promising no one would be mad at you for something that wasn't your fault. He also told you he would bake them again with you.

You believed him.

You always did.

THIS WAS SO BAD AND SHORT IM SORRY

i needed to get this out

pavitr and reader bonding time woo

sorry this was so bad oml

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert

832 notes · View notes

honeyedmiller · 3 months ago

Text

Guns and Roses

joel miller x f!reader

synopsis: fantasizing about joel miller gets you a lot more than you bargain for.

rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: semi-grump x sunshine, joel is described to be taller than reader, feelings, smut (which includes reader being consensually choked out / breath play so if you’re not into that, heed the warning).

word count: 7.2k

a/n: listen, in my head joel miller is a 6’5” hunk of a kinky motherfucker. happy valentine’s day.

Joel Miller.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see his name next to yours on this morning’s patrol partner list.

You’ve never been partnered up with him and yet, you feel as if you know all about him. How grumpy he is. How he’s usually in charge when it comes to patrols. How he has low patience, and a no-bullshit type attitude. Some say he’s blatantly mean, and others are just straight-up afraid of him.

You aren’t afraid of him per se, but he does make you nervous. He’s got a stare that makes heat simmer low in your belly and an angry brow that makes you want to kiss the tension away. You’ve caught him staring at you a few times and it’s always made your cheeks heat, shying away from his gaze and devastatingly handsome face.

You’re brushing Shimmer’s coat before you saddle her up. Joel hasn’t arrived at the stables yet, so you spend a few minutes petting Shimmer and softly talking to her while you wait.

It’s almost like you can feel him before you see him. A chill runs down your spine as you hear heavy boots on the ground, and you turn to see the tall, stoic man in the flesh. You don’t know whether or not to say something to him. How he responds can set the mood for the rest of your morning.

Ever the optimist, though, you decide to take a crack at it.

“Morning, Joel.” You try to keep your tone light and casual, throwing in a small smile.

He eyes you up and down for a second, but it isn’t in disgust—intrigue, rather. His gaze locks on yours before he steps into the stables, opening the latch door to Callus’s stall.

“Mornin’,” he finally answers. His voice is gruff and raw, probably being the first words he’s spoken today.

You want to say more, but you leave it at that. You may have heard about how he is from everyone else’s point of view, but you want to decipher him for yourself. You just don’t want to push his buttons, especially at six thirty in the morning.

You huff and pet Shimmer one last time. “You ready, gorgeous girl?” You coo at her, giggling when she licks your hand. You mount yourself onto Shimmer’s back, grabbing the reins before clicking your tongue twice to get her to turn out of the stables. You glance back at Joel, catching him staring at you once again.

“I’ll, uh, meet you at the gate,” you say. He just gives you a small nod, and you face forward once more before guiding Shimmer to the gates where a couple of others wait. You greet everyone a cheerful good morning before Joel’s beside you, and it’s not long before everyone is sent on their way.

The sun has risen brilliantly and the chilly January air wraps around you as you trail behind Joel on his right side. Your eyes roam down his broad body, licking your lips as your gaze settles on the gun holster that’s clad to his thigh.

Suddenly your mind envisions Joel above you, staring at you with such carnal desire that it makes your whole core positively ache. You imagine he’s the super dominant type—possessive, territorial, and greedy in the best way possible. You can see him easily picking you up, slamming you against a wall while he fucks you senseless. He’s probably also the type of man that eats pussy for his own pleasure, not allowing himself to get off until he’s made you cum at least twice.

Well, fuck.

A whine almost slips past your lips and you’re back to reality, and your eyes shoot up to Joel’s as you find him staring at you completely unamused. You know your cheeks are burning, and you nearly wince when he has to repeat himself because you were too busy daydreaming about how good he’d take care of you—

Jesus Christ, you need a cold shower.

“Christ, Sunshine, are you even payin’ any mind to me?” He’s irritated and it makes you want to get swallowed up by a hole in the ground.

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?”

He sighs as if he’s completely inconvenienced, grumbling something under his breath and—wait, did he just call you ‘Sunshine’?

“Said the log book ain’t too far from here. Let’s scope out the area to make sure it’s clear before we sign it n’ head back,” he says. You nod and follow his lead, surely trying not to piss him off any further.

Joel ties Callus’s reins to a nearby tree, and you’re about to dismount Shimmer when Joel raises his hands up to you. You furrow your brows in confusion, wondering what the hell he’s doing before he rolls his eyes with a huff.

“Ain’t got all damn day, Sunshine. C’mon.”

You loop your feet out of the stirrups, Joel’s hands catching your waist as you slide down Shimmer’s side. You land right in front of him, so close that you can feel his breath on you. So close that you can easily inhale his scent, and he’s all earthy, manly musk with a hint of coffee. He smells absolutely divine.

You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your face. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage and you literally have to remind yourself to breathe. He’s just so fucking close and it’s so goddamn dizzying.

You should say something. You’re about to, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth turn up into a smug smirk before he turns his body away from yours to walk toward the small shack that has the log book in it. You’re taking this time—the distance away from him—to catch your breath and keep a watchful eye on the area, making sure it’s in the clear.

Joel reemerges a few minutes later, and the sun catches on his gun in his thigh holster. The handle gleams and your eyes are drawn to it once more. You’re staring at his thighs now, wondering how it would be if you rutted yourself over them.

Your eyes snap up to Joel’s once again, and he’s looking at you with a quirked brow.

“Signed the book. We all good here?” He gestures his hand to the vicinity, and you nod.

“All good.”

Shit. Your voice is breathless. You really can’t be any more obvious.

You mount yourself back onto Shimmer, waiting for Joel to lead ahead of you to start heading back home.

“So,” Joel starts, and his voice startles you. He slows Callus down so Shimmer can catch up to him and you both ride side-by-side. “Where are you from?” He asks, and you have to hold back a snort. Small talk is not something you expected him to resort to.

“QZ or pre-outbreak?” You counter back, looking at him as he faces ahead. You admire his side profile like this and he’s all strong jaw, beautifully chiseled nose, and plush lips. The leaves on the trees contrast beautifully against his golden skin, spewing glimpses of yellow and bright green.

“Pre, I guess.”

“California. You?”

He raises an eyebrow at that. “Texas. So you’re a city girl?”

This time you can’t help but huff a laugh and roll your eyes.

“No, Texas, not all of California is glitz and glamour,” you’re full-on giggling now, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in what you assume to be his half-assed attempt at smiling.

“What do you miss most about it?”

You don’t even need to think about it. Without missing a beat, you look at him with a soft smile before murmuring, “The ocean.”

He doesn’t say anything after that. You both head back into the gates of Jackson in peace, dismounting the horses and going about your days after reporting back to Maria.

Over the next couple of weeks, you’re getting paired with Joel every time you’re on morning patrol. You keep fantasizing about him and having him in the dirtiest way possible, and the tension is growing rapidly.

Joel’s jaw is taut when you bat your lashes up at him, and your cheery demeanor has his walls slowly crumbling down just for you.

It’s too much, though. The tension is palpable, nearly making you suffocate in the want and desire you have for this man—someone you have absolutely no business pining after.

You have to ask Tommy to take you off of patrol duty for a few days and have someone else fill in while you volunteer to take care of the horses in the stables or tend to the greenhouse.

You don’t see Joel for nearly a week, and you come to the realization that it kind of drives you crazy.

The next time you see him is at dinner in the mess hall. Joel stands in all his glory, sporting a green flannel that hugs his biceps perfectly and pants that hang on his hips like a glove. He’s also got that damn holster strapped around his thigh again, probably because he had just gotten back from patrol not too long ago.

When his eyes meet yours from across the room, you know you’re doomed.

And when he shoots you a barely there smile, but one you recognize nonetheless, you’re absolutely done for.

You swallow harshly and go back to paying attention to the conversation happening with your table, trying to ignore the holes he’s burning into your head. A dark, desirable warmth stirs deep in you and you have to force yourself to pay attention to what’s going on around you. The whiskey you drank definitely isn’t helping you, either.

You barely talk all dinner though, too nervous with the older Miller brother’s lingering gaze on you for most of the night.

You clean up after you’ve eaten and give Maria a grateful smile and hug, thanking her for a wonderful dinner. She eyes you conspicuously, knowing that you love being a part of community events since tonight is movie night. She finds it odd when you tell her you’re turning in early tonight, but she lets it go without question.

You walk out of the mess hall, shivering immediately as the cold air hits your body. You weren’t very well dressed for the cold weather, and while it was nice in the mess hall, you’re regretting not layering up this when it’s so cold outside.

You hear heavy footsteps behind you, walking fast to try and catch up to you. Once again, you can already tell who it is before you even turn around.

“Leavin’ so early, Sunshine?” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, but it can easily be passed off as being too cold.

“Um, yeah, gonna turn in for the night.” You muster up a tight-lipped smile, not meeting his eyes before turning back around.

Joel puts a hand on your shoulder and electricity zings through your entire body. “Reckon I can walk you home, since I’m already out here.”

Fuck.

“Sure,” you say, tensing under his touch. You can’t see it, but he furrows his brows at you and cautiously falls in step with you as you walk back home.

“Jesus, Sunshine, you’re freezin’.” He takes off his thick coat and wraps it around your shoulders, and you’re nearly a fucking puddle on the floor. The coat smells like him and it takes everything in you to not bury your nose in the fabric and inhale. His scent is intoxicating.

Everything about him is intoxicating.

It’s not long before you both reach your doorstep after a few minutes of walking in silence. You fumble with the key to open your front door, nerves heightening once again.

Jesus Christ, you need to get a hold of yourself.

Once you get the door open, you stand there for a beat before looking up at him. He’s all alluring brown eyes and subtle sexy smirk that makes you gooey in the knees.

You contemplate it for a moment, but before you can overthink your decision, you bite the bullet and ask against your better judgement. “Do you want to come in?”

He hesitates, assessing you. He nods after a few seconds and follows you inside, and you feel your pulse start to race quicker. It’s irritating how much of an effect he has on you, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Nice place you got,” he says, running a hand through his hair before taking a seat on your couch. He spreads his thighs wide, taking up so much fucking room, and all it makes you want to do is be all over him.

There’s just no fucking way he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you.

“Thank you.” You don’t really know what to say to him at this point. Conversation flowed so easily on patrol, but now you’re in this confined space with him and want nothing more than his lips on yours, consuming your entire being.

“Can I, uh, get you anything?”

Be more awkward, yeah? You chastise yourself for being unable to behave normally around him.

“Just your company,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the couch. You swallow thickly and make your way over, plopping yourself down on the couch, leaving enough distance between the two of you.

He chuckles lowly under his breath, but you still hear it against the stark quietness of your quaint home.

“So how come I haven’t seen you on patrol lately?” His deep voice is like plunging into a warm, dark abyss. It’s full of the unknown but so comforting at the same time, and it makes your head swim.

You shrug your shoulders, gaze moving to your hands that fidget in your lap. “Just wanted to focus on helping out elsewhere.”

“Bullshit. I think you’re lying.” He says it with such confidence, cocking his head to the side as he studies you. You didn’t think he’d call you out so easily.

Your brows shoot up. “I am not—!”

Even you could hear the blatant defensiveness in your tone. You look at him with a fiery gaze, brows furrowed downward at his all-too-true accusations.

“You are. Why haven’t you been on patrol?” His voice is huskier now, knowingly eyeing you like he can see right through you.

“Dammit, Joel,” you huff, tipping your head back against the couch. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

The truth. As if it were that simple.

Yeah Joel, truth is that me, little miss innocent Sunshine, has been fantasizing about you fucking my brains out every time I see you, you think.

Joel moves closer and his face is mere inches away from yours, brown eyes intense as they watch you in such a way that sends a shiver down your spine. Your gaze shifts elsewhere because the tension is too much, and you’re left feeling like a shell of a woman under his scrutiny.

And that’s when you realize he already knows. You don’t need to tell him shit, because somehow, some way, he knows your dirty little secret and the ways you fantasize about him.

“Trust me, Sunshine. Last thing you want is to get tangled up with a guy like me.”

Your eyes snap up to his.

”And that’s where you’re wrong, Joel. I want you.”

“‘S a dangerous game you’re playin’, baby.”

Baby.

“I’m not playing games, Joel,” you say. There’s a finality in your voice that really let him know you weren’t fucking around. “You seriously wanna know why I asked Tommy to be taken off of patrol?”

He gives you a slow, singular nod. The muscle in his jaw ticks as something fiery blazes behind his darkened eyes.

“Every single time I’m around you, I feel like I can’t fucking breathe. Your presence is all-consuming, and every time I look at you, all I can picture is the ways I want you to have me. It’s not normal, Joel. That—that is why I asked to be taken off of patrol.”

His expression doesn’t waver, but the muscle in his jaw ticks impossibly faster. He’s as still as a statue, and it’s so fucking quiet that you can hear a pin drop.

There’s also another reason why you didn’t want to tell him: rejection.

You can see him fighting a battle in his head, and this is already humiliating enough as it is. You don’t think you can handle the I don’t want you words that’ll eventually spill out of his mouth, so you stand up and take a deep breath, walking toward the door. You tug it open and his brows furrow as you stare at him expectantly.

“I just—please, just leave.”

His lips flatten into a straight line before he stands up and takes a few strides to get to where you’re at. He’s gazing down at you with an unfamiliar look in his eyes, and he opens his mouth to say something before he snaps it shut seconds later. His face hardens into that infamous grumpy stare, all harsh lines and tight jaw.

He walks out without saying another word.

You close your front door and slump against it, heaving out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Your eyes snap up to the ceiling, and regret begins to sink her nasty claws into your skin.

Fuck.

A couple of weeks pass after that whole incident in your house with Joel. You’re awoken by a loud knock on your door, and you grumble the whole way down before opening it. Tommy stands in the frame with a pleading look, and you furrow your brows as you try to fully wake up.

“Tommy…?”

“Hey sweetheart. I need a big favor,” he says. He shifts back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking like he wants to dash away at any given second.

“What is it?”

“Christy called out from her patrol shift today and you’re pretty much the only one who knows the routes well enough to cover.”

You scrub your face with your hands, and peek an eye out from behind your fingers.

“Only because it’s you, Tommy,” you huff a laugh, and he flashes you his bright smile.

“You’re a lifesaver. Maria and I are really grateful.”

“It’s the least I can do,” you say, but then you pause. “Who’s my partner for this shift?”

Tommy’s eyes avert to the wood on your porch, and you immediately knew. You didn’t know how much Tommy knew about this thing, whatever the hell it was, between you and Joel.

You’re not really sure it’s a thing anymore, though, considering you kicked him out after telling him how you really feel. You have no idea what’s going to happen on patrol today, and you really don’t want to find out, but Tommy and Maria took you in when you were at your lowest.

You literally owe them your life.

“Will you still cover?” His voice is soft. The corner of your lips twitch up into an almost smile, and you reach out to pat his arm.

“For you and Maria.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the stables at the crack of dawn, making sure the saddle on Shimmer was secure.

Heavy footsteps enter the stables, and you already know who it is. You hear another pair of footsteps not too far behind, and you don’t turn around until you hear Tommy call your name.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you while you’re still here. Are you still good to come over to ours later and help Maria with the cupcakes?”

You hoist yourself up onto Shimmer and give Tommy a smile.

“‘Course.”

”You goin’ with anyone to do the dance?” Tommy asks, and Joel looks between you both. The Valentine’s dance is coming up tonight, and you told Maria you’d help with whatever she needed. You just didn’t plan on going.

“Nah,” you wave him off playfully. “I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“Oh c’mon, you oughta meet a handsome fella—or lady, I don’t discriminate—at the dance.”

Your eyes flicker to Joel for a split second only to find him already staring at you, before you look back to Tommy. You roll your lips into your mouth before shrugging with a small smile.

“Maybe.”

“Well just think about it,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. You give him a nod and your eyes drift to Joel one last time before moving Shimmer out of the stables and toward the gate.

You greet everyone at the gate before Joel makes his way beside you, and you’re all sent on your way. You silently follow Joel, an unspoken rule between you both that he’s obviously in charge. He doesn’t attempt conversation, and you know better than to poke the bear, but the tension is still palpable.

You make it to your assigned area before hopping off of Shimmer, shotgun tightly gripped in your hand.

“I’ll go scope around back,” you say, treading off before he can even reply.

You’re lost in thought as you look around, until you hear a branch break behind you. You swing around so fast that you almost hit Joel with your shotgun.

“Jesus, Sunshine, it’s just me,” he says, frowning.

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me like that, dammit! I could’ve shot you!”

“But you didn’t. You’re cute when you’re mad.” Amusement wraps around his words and he smirks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“So you don’t hate me, huh?” You ask, and you know it’s probably stupid to even take the conversation in that direction, but what else have you got to lose?

He’s quiet for a moment, looking beyond the trees as he sighs.

“No, Sunshine, I don’t hate you.”

You meet his gaze as you look up at him, his tall frame turning toward you as he walks closer, forcing you to step backwards until your back hits a wooden wall. He rests one hand beside your head and stares down at you.

You know he can easily see the effect he has on you, with the way your breathing picks up and the furrow between your brow. You can’t even meet his gaze, because you know if you do, you’re absolutely done for.

“Why’d you kick me out of your place the other day?”

You take a moment to try and collect yourself as best as you possibly can, but you know it’s no use.

“I didn’t want to get rejected. It’s already humiliating enough to admit that you drive me fucking crazy.”

“How so?” He leans down, nosing at your jaw before placing a kiss below your ear. You gasp, closing your eyes to relish the feeling of his lips on you.

You need them everywhere.

“Just—you—fuck,” you sigh. You can’t even get a coherent thought out with his proximity and intoxicating scent and warmth wrapping around you, welcoming you into something much more desirable.

His lips are at your ear.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispers, and you bite back a moan as he presses his lips against your neck. “Does this look like rejection to you?”

“Joel—”

“Fuck, darlin’—drive you crazy? You have absolutely no idea what you do to me. Not a fuckin’ clue.”

“What do I do to you, Joel?” Your voice is meek as you stare up at him, trying to find your bearings.

He stares at you for what seems like a century, before leaning down so close that his nose brushes against yours. He hesitates, and you figure it's because he doesn’t want to push you if you don’t want to do this.

You’ve already made it abundantly clear, so you meet him the rest of the way and envelope your lips with his.

The feeling is cosmic—better than anything you’d ever expected. It’s the kind of kiss that sends tingles down your spine and makes your toes curl in delight.

You moan in desperation, tugging him closer to you by the sherpa lapel of his jacket, tangling your other free hand in his soft curls at the base of his skull.

He groans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around you, and you get lost in the art of kissing each other.

You don’t know how long you’re there pawing at each other like a couple of desperate, touch-deprived fools, but eventually you pull away because your lungs are fucking burning for air.

You pant against his lips, tightening your hold on his lapel.

“I wish you woulda let me say my piece instead of kicking me out,” Joel confesses. You lean your head back onto the building and sigh, looking up through the treeline.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I was just scared.”

“Ain’t a thing to be scared of, baby. As much as I’d love to continue this, I reckon it’s best we get goin’. They’re gonna wonder where we’re at.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you nod, pushing yourself off the building. You scope the area with him one more time and to your luck, no activity to report. Joel signs the log book and you both head back to Jackson in a comfortable silence, a total one-eighty from earlier.

You leave each other at the stables with not another word spoken, but a longing gaze that says everything you’re both feeling.

You head to Tommy and Maria’s house to help Maria with the cupcakes as promised, and you head home that night with the older Miller brother on your mind yet again.

By the time everyone is heading over to the dance, you’re all cozy in your oversized t-shirt and a book in your hand. You’ve just showered, and knowing you have off tomorrow from any and all work has you feeling extra relaxed.

A knock on your front door startles you though, and you dog-ear the page you’re reading and set the book on your bedside, but you hear heavy boots walking up the steps already. You scramble and grab your pistol from your nightstand, standing on your knees on your mattress as you hear the footsteps getting closer to your bedroom door.

“Sunshine?” Joel’s voice calls, and you sigh in relief as you switch the safety back on and toss your pistol onto your nightstand.

He’s in your doorway, leaning against the frame as he takes the image of you in. The t-shirt you’re wearing only falls to the middle of your thighs, and you’re not wearing anything but panties underneath.

The sight of him staring at you in such a hungry way has you gasping softly, and the feeling of arousal already sticks to your underwear.

You take this opportunity to stare at him, too. Your eyes roam slowly down his frame, and yet again you’re fantasizing about all of the things you want to do with him.

Your eyes halt halfway down his thigh—and you couldn’t help yourself.

You kept staring at the holster, perfectly wrapped around his thick thigh. The leather was a parcel of fine craftsmanship, made to fit him like a glove.

The gun in the holster was the cherry on top as it sat flush against his body, and you just couldn’t stop fucking staring.

Joel was waiting for you to pounce—challenging you, mocking you. He quirks his eyebrow up at you as he crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps pop.

You swallow thickly as you force your gaze to meet his eyes, which have so clearly darkened.

“Sweet girl,” Joel groans, “Keep starin’ at me and my thigh holster like that and I might just have to choke you out with it.”

Oh, fuck. You clench around nothing at the thought.

You nearly whimper as he crosses the room to get to your bed, towering over you once again. His large palm cups your cheek and you can’t help but look up at him like you’re mesmerized.

Maybe you really are.

He runs his thumb over your bottom lip before tugging it down, and that dangerous smirk is back on his lips.

“Tell me,” he says.

You’re so entranced by this man that it takes your brain a few seconds to catch up and process what he just said.

“What?”

“Tell me what you fantasize about.”

Your eyes dart to the pink comforter on your bed.

Joel tsks and shakes his head, hand moving to your jaw so you have to look up at him.

“Tell me, baby. I want to give it to you.”

He lets go of your jaw and sits down next to you on the bed, tugging you onto him so you’re straddling his thigh.

You look down at his denim-clad leg, biting your lip before Joel ruts you forward.

“Stare at my thighs so goddamn much you might as well ride it, hm?” He strokes the back of your head, and your eyebrows furrow at the delicious friction.

You nod. “This was one of the things,” you say.

“I know, baby. Use me. Wanna see you get off by pleasin’ yourself on me.”

You sharply inhale. He moves his hands down to your thighs, pushing the t-shirt up to your hips before dipping one hand between your legs. He clicks his tongue against his teeth and hums as he rubs your aching pussy through the fabric of your underwear.

“Fuckin’ soaked already, Sunshine. Can’t believe I really do this to you.”

“Why’s it so hard to believe?” You ask, testing the waters by rutting your hips forward once. You softly moan at the feeling, and Joel moves his hands to settle on your hips.

“‘Cus, I’m the mean grumpy ol’ bastard of the town and you’re the sweet, innocent happy woman that gets on well with everyone.”

You laugh at that, moving your hands to his shoulders to give them a squeeze. You quirk a playful brow at him before rutting your hips once more.

“Who said I was innocent?”

You tilt your head, and his eyes get impossibly darker. Joel hums, considering you for a second.

“I like it rough, baby, so you gotta tell me if anythin’ I do is too much.”

You clench around nothing once again, feeling your arousal seep down your thighs. The thought of him being rough with you sends you over the fucking moon.

“Will do, cowboy.”

The corner of his mouth tilts into an almost smile, and he leans in to kiss you with the same hunger from earlier. It’s easy to follow his lead, as your hands find his curls once more and you start to rut your hips.

Your feet barely touch the ground like this, but ever the gentleman Joel is, he helps you by moving your hips back and forth with his hands at your hips. You’re panting his name and his face is buried in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping the skin there.

“That’s it, there you go,” he coos. “Wish you can see how pretty you look gettin’ off on me. Fuckin’ stunner you are.”

You inhale sharply and squeeze your eyes shut, tossing your head back between your shoulders. Joel dips his head down and captures a clothed nipple into his mouth, and you let out a loud whine.

It’s almost too much, with the delicious pressure on your aching clit, hands roaming over your hot skin and the expertise of his mouth.

You feel the white-hot sensation shoot through you, and you bow your back as your orgasm blindsides you and forcefully crashes through you.

“Joel!” You gasp his name as he brings his hand down between your legs, cupping your sex and rubbing you through the thin fabric before he tosses you onto the bed.

You’re staring at your ceiling trying to catch your breath, but Joel doesn’t give you two seconds to think before he’s on top of you. His lips clash with yours, all teeth and tongue and desperation, before he’s tugging off your underwear and shirt to fling them across your bedroom behind him.

You sit up on your elbows as you stare at him, watching him as he slowly unbuttons his flannel, tossing it on the floor with your clothes.

His tanned skin glows in the sunset through your windows, and the shadows carve out the muscles in his biceps perfectly. He looks ethereal like this, towering over you with a hungry, insatiable stare.

He unstraps his thigh holster from himself, sliding the gun across the floor and tossing the holster onto the bed next to you.

He hovers over you once again, smirking down at you as he looks at the pretty, glistening mess between your legs.

He wraps his arms around your thighs and he drags you toward the edge of the bed, flipping you over before harshly smacking your ass.

You suck in a breath at the sting and he’s hungrily watching the way you clench around nothing.

“Oh you like that, huh pretty girl?” He asks, tone nothing short of dark and teasing.

You don’t even hesitate.

“Fuck, yes, Joel.”

His calloused hands massage your ass, giving it another smack before you hear shuffling behind you. You turn your head to see that he’s kneeling behind you, and he looks right into your eyes as he spits on your pussy. You moan at the sight, and he grabs your thighs before burying his face in your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” you cry, relishing in the feeling of his tongue working your slick, aching core so expertly.

Each flick of his tongue has purpose, so fluidly blending together that it feels like a fucking composer conducting an orchestra.

Your body is a violin, a piano, a flute.

A symphony waiting to reach crescendo.

His tongue glides and prods and his mouth eats you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have, and you’re grabbing onto your pretty pink comforter for dear life as you gasp and moan his name louder and louder with each pass, each flick.

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as his tongue sinks into your warmth, fucking you for a brief few seconds before traveling upward toward your asshole.

He stays there, licking and kissing your tight little hole, going to a place nobody ever has before.

You reach back and thread your fingers through his hair, forcing his face into your flesh as he greedily licks you up. He moves his tongue back down to your pussy, drinking your arousal like you’re the finest nectar on Earth.

Hell, to him, maybe you are.

That devastating bliss curls around you and your insides once more, and when Joel wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, you’re absolutely done for.

You scream his name like a prayer on Sunday, tears forming in your waterline as this orgasm rips through you more forcefully than the last. You’re quivering by the time he stands up straight again.

“I could eat that sweet little pussy for the rest of my God-given life,” he says, and you look back at him with a weak half smile.

You’re already so fucked out, but you know he isn’t done with you yet. Your eyes move down to the bulge in his jeans, and the outline of him makes your mouth water.

“Let me suck your dick,” you say, and Joel chuckles before leaning down to give you a wet, you-flavored kiss.

“Another time, baby. Wanna fuck you first.”

It’s like your body answers to his call each and every time, so willing and ready for him.

“Wanna see stars, Joel.”

“And stars you’ll see, sweet girl.”

He leans down to kiss your hair before ridding himself of his jeans and boxers, erection springing free.

He groans at the newfound freedom, and you can see his pre-cum beaded at his tip.

You can’t help yourself—you reach over and swipe your thumb over it, popping your finger into your mouth with a satisfied hum as the salty flavor of him dances on your tongue.

“Why do I have a feelin’ you enjoy giving head?”

You quirk a brow at him. “You wanna find out?”

He laughs. It’s a sweet, rare sound. It’s one you want to capture in a jar to keep and cherish forever.

“Later, baby. I wanna make you feel good tonight.”

You’re about to say you already have—twice, in fact, but he’s moving behind you before you can get the words out. He rubs your ass one more time before spreading you open.

You can tell he admires the view with the appreciative hum that evades his throat.

“You sure you wanna do this? You can still back out, y’know.”

You look back at him, batting your lashes twice. He gets the message.

His mouth quirks up and he swipes his head through your folds, catching onto your clit. You whine at the feeling, and Joel smacks your ass once more for good measure.

He settles himself at your entrance and pushes into you slowly, letting you take him inch by inch until he’s reached the hilt.

His hips are flush against your ass, and he’s so fucking large and heavy inside you that it lights your body aflame with pure pleasure.

“Joel,” you cry, and Joel strokes your back while he allows you time to get used to the sting, the delicious stretch.

The feeling is indescribable, being so full like this, let alone with the man you’ve been fantasizing about for weeks now.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, honey. She’s takin’ this cock so well,” he praises.

You moan at his words, finally squeezing the words out of your throat. “Move, please.”

So he does.

He starts off slow at first, testing the waters, before completely pistoning into you. He knocks the breath out of you, and it’s almost too much, but you fucking love it.

You haven’t felt this type of bliss in your life, well, ever, and Joel is giving it to you on the first go of him fucking you.

He slows his hips down before he grabs the thigh holder and dangles it in your vision, and you look back at him with what had to be the most pathetic pleaful look.

“You still want this?” He asks, and you nod.

“Words, baby. Need to hear you say it.”

“God, fuck! Yes! Yesyesyesyesyes,” you cry. “Please, Joel. Need you to—fuck—need you to choke me out. Need it rougher. Need you,”

“Fuck, baby, you’re a goddamn dream,” he grits. “Tap my thigh twice n’ hard if you need me to stop.”

“Okay,” you murmur.

He wraps the leather strap around your throat, buckling it securely before giving it a soft tug.

“This feel okay?”

You nod, and he gives you a warning look.

Words.

“Yes, Joel. ‘S perfect.”

He pulls at the strap, and it squeezes the sides of your throat as he resumes fucking you.

He’s pounding into you relentlessly and a deep, guttural groan leaves his chest and the sound scrapes low in your belly. It makes your pussy flutter around his cock, squeezing him so tight that his hips stutter.

“Fuckin’ squeezin’ me, baby. She loves this cock, don’t she?”

You whine and nod, clawing at the comforter as he pulls the strap tighter. Your breathing becomes more shallow and your vision starts to go black around the edges.

You’re starting to see the stars Joel promised you.

Joel hears that your little noises he loves oh-so-much have ceased, so he lets up on the strap. You gulp in a big breath of air, looking back at him to give him a wicked smile.

He almost cums at the sight.

“Reckon you like it rough, too.”

You hum in agreement, reaching between your legs to cup his balls. He nearly chokes on a moan at the feeling of you beginning to massage him, and he slaps your ass before pounding into you once again.

He pulls on the strap again, but this time he leans down so his lips are at your ear.

“Takin’ this cock like you were made for it, honey.”

He kisses your neck and moves his lips down between your shoulder blades, nipping at your skin before slinking a hand between your thighs, finding your clit in one perfect move.

You want to scream and cry his name, but it’s nearly impossible with the restriction on your throat. Your vision blurs black at the edges again and before you know it, your third orgasm of the night is tearing you apart from the inside out. A silent scream evades you.

You’ve reached the crescendo.

You’re convulsing around him, and you think he’s saying something like there you go, good girl, but the blood is pounding so hard in your ears that you can barely even register his voice. You barely even feel him take off the holster from around your neck, too.

Everything blurs together in bliss and dazzling stars and by the time you come to, Joel is grunting words you can finally hear.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want me?”

You do your best to push yourself away from him and clamber onto your knees, right in front of him.

You give him a satiated smile, all hooded eyes and a fucked out appearance that has him losing it.

He tosses his head back as he pumps himself a few more times before his cum paints itself across your chest and lower half of your face.

You’re truly a sight to behold—the look on Joel’s face when his gaze meets yours again says it all.

He leans down and cups your face, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, sitting down on your bed again before Joel is back with a wet washcloth in his hand. He coaxes you to lay back against your pillows as he wipes you down gently.

The stark contrast of the softness he’s exuding now versus when he fucked your brains out is quite an amusing thing, but appreciated nonetheless.

He tosses the washcloth in your hamper after he’s finished, slipping his boxers back on before climbing into bed with you.

He tilts your chin up so you meet his gaze, and his thumb traces over the side of your face.

“You okay?” He asks, voice gentle and full of worry.

“More than okay,” you reassure him. Your limbs feel like goo and you can barely keep your eyes open, but you’re floating on cloud nine.

You curl into him and he kisses your forehead once again, wrapping an arm around you to keep you close.

“Listen, Sunshine. I ain’t really a flowers type ‘a guy,” he starts, and you look up at him again.

Your heart sinks a little and you’re sure Joel can see your face deflate, so he quickly follows up on his previous words.

“But baby, for you, I’d pick out any one you wanted.”

And you know that’s his way of saying he’s all in. You let his words marinate for a minute before kissing his chest, right above the steady beat of his heart.

“Even the white roses from Maria’s garden?” You tease him, knowing those flowers are her prized possession.

He laughs again, and without a beat, leans his face down to yours with such an incandescently happy smile that his usual frown seems something so foreign to you.

“Even those.”

a/n (pt 2): huge thanks to @ozarkthedog for encouraging me and letting me ramble about this fic.

also, i can’t help but make joel a sappy motherfucker too. he’s a sappy kinky motherfucker.

sorry for any mistakes. this wasn’t revised that well.

hope y’all enjoyed tho.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagines #joel miller tlou #grumpy joel #game joel miller #joel miller game #the last of us fanfiction

992 notes · View notes

miabebe · 3 months ago

Text

My Girlfriend Faked Her Amnesia (Wen Junhui)

Reverse Trope Series Installment 4

It wasn’t always that life gave one the chance to hit reset, but now that Jun had gotten it, he didn’t have long before time ran out - 10 days to valentine's day which meant 10 chances to make his amnesiac girlfriend remember him again. But it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk - after all, how could one be reminded of the past if they were only pretending to forget?

Pairing - Wen Junhui x afab! Reader

Word Count- 29k

Genre - Heavy angst, romance, hurt comfort, mild humor and as usual, yes, smut - This piece is lowkey inspired by the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!

Warnings - Car accident, mentions of blood, memory loss, hospital setting

A/n - Hello my loves! This is my bit for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab hosted by the wonderful @camandemstudios, my first ever collab! Please do also check out the stories by all the other writers - everyone has been working super hard on this! I hope you enjoy this piece and leave your thoughtsss :) To be added to the reverse tropes taglist, please comment under this post :)

Smut warnings - This is only the first half (12k) of the story and there is no smut in it yet. Warnings will be added for the second half!

The End: 27th December 2024

"Careful!"

You quickly swerved to the side of the road, the car screeching to a stop as the honking truck zoomed past you.

Fuck. Gripping the steering wheel tight, you let out a sigh of relief, your wandering thoughts returning to the present. That was close.

The man beside you mumbled something under his breath as he unbuckled his seatbelt before alighting the car and opened your door, wordlessly asking you to get out.

You complied, allowing him to take over your role as the driver and quietly slid in the passenger seat.

Adjusting the mirror he glanced up and down the snow clad road before driving off into the darkness. Again, without saying a word.

That's how things had been between the two of you for a while now. Silent.

Some might say that after nearly 10 years of being together, the two of you didn't need words to communicate anymore, you just understood each other so well. But only you knew the reality - there was nothing left to say. Everything was at the edge of falling apart.

You glanced down at your hands, fingers fidgeting. Yes it was cold but it was the emptiness that bothered you.

Your boyfriend shot you a look before his hand hovered over the controls of the car.

"Are you feeling cold?"

See, he didn't understand. He never seemed to understand. And you were tired of explaining but a tiny voice in your head said to try just once more.

"My mum was asking why there's no ring yet?" Caressing the fingers of your left hand, you looked up, far off at the skies where the morning sun still hadn't made its way up.

“And what did you say?”

You turned to him, not hiding the incredulous expression donning your face, “What am I supposed to say Jun?” He looked straight ahead, eyes more focused on the road than required. “How does one answer a question like this?”

His Adam's apple bobbed with his gulp. “That....we’re not ready?”

“And looking at us, who will buy that?”

Jun kept quiet again, perhaps because he knew you were right.

The two of you had been together for the majority of your lives which meant your families, friends, colleagues all were a consistent witness of your relationship. Even over the last week, when you were spending Christmas with your family at the ski cabin, your sister wouldn’t stop talking about how you two were perfect for one another. She didn’t know that behind closed doors, in the privacy of your room, the two of you slept with your backs facing each other.

Jun sighed, noticing you were getting lost in your thoughts again. “Why do we have to justify ourselves to anyone anyways Y/n? This is our life-”

“You’re right, there’s no need to justify anything to anyone. But you can tell me why, right?” You half turned towards him, leaning against the car door. “You and I can talk about why we’re nearing our thirties and still haven’t made any decision about getting married?”

“Jesus, twenty five is not considered thirties Y/n." He rolled his eyes exasperated. "Besides, what does age have to do with marriage? Getting married should be something that we decide because we want to spend our lives with each other.”

You blinked at him. “Then do you not want to spend your life with-”

“I did not say that.” He glanced at you before quickly looking back at the road. “Of course, I do. Baby, you and I live together, we do everything together, we are as good as married-”

“So then a wedding would just be a formality right-”

“No, it would be a show!” You flinched a little as he raised his voice, annoyed. “It would be to show the world something, to prove to others that we are committed and will last through it all, as though signing a few documents is a guarantee of that.”

“Marriage isn’t just about that Jun. Do you have any idea how many things will become easier - buying a house, getting loans, so many logistics-”

He scoffed, shaking his head slowly. “That’s what marriage is to you? A practical, logical, legal binding?”

Biting your lower lip you let out a deep breath. “If you think it should mean much more or that it should be made purely on emotions then what’s stopping you? Or do you not love me anymore-”

“Why would you say that?” He groaned, like he was tired of this conversation. “I do love you, more than anything. Which is why I want you to be able to focus on yourself without taking the burden of a marriage. I want you to fulfill all the dreams you have for your career, for your professional growth-”

“Jun, I can do all of that while being married too-”

“Marriage changes people! It changes priorities, it changes expectations-”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of? Expectations? Because I expect you to be a bit more responsible? To get your act together-”

“It won’t stop at that will it?” He sighed. “This is all our life is going to be - First it’ll be about dividing household chores, who’ll do dishes, who’ll take out the trash. Next it’ll be about finding the perfect house and having children-”

“We’ve talked about this and you said you didn’t have a problem with having children Jun.” You snapped at him, triggered at his words. “I’m not getting any younger here-”

“And I’ve not grown up!” He slammed the wheel with his hand. “I do want to have kids someday but not now, not any time soon. I… I can barely look after myself, how am I going to look after a child? And if I’m incapable it will mean that you will have to carry the burden of it all - of raising the child, of me and of yourself and I don’t want that for you.”

You fell silent again, realising that the conversation was going just like it always did.

You would go on to insist that you were ready for whatever was to come and the time was right now, Jun would insist that he isn’t willing to let you take on so much and that marriage shouldn’t be about timing, it should be about wanting to be with each other. You would then claim he’s being too emotionally driven about this and he would claim that you were being too practical and the conversation would just be about the two of you justifying your point of views, reaching no conclusion.

This is what happened every single time. This was what was going to happen again now. And frankly, you were tired of it.

“When did we start wanting such different things?” You glanced at the road that disappeared into the darkness. The early morning light was not enough to illuminate the path ahead. “I thought…. we were perfect for each other, that we were meant to be. After nearly ten years, where did it all go wrong?”

You didn’t mean for it to sound hurtful, but Jun had always been the sensitive one.

“Just because we’re not in the same frame of mind right now, doesn’t mean all the years we shared mean nothing.”

“But what does it mean?” You smiled sadly. “We aren’t growing, we aren’t able to help each other grow, what was the point of it all? Ten years and…. we achieved nothing.”

It was like you were leaving arrow after arrow to pierce his heart - he knew you were the reasonable kind - always planning, always making lists, always marking milestones. Whatever you were saying now, had to be the result of a moment of frustration, not because you were questioning the love that you had for each other…. right?

You weren’t regretting this, were you?

He let out the breath he was holding. “Then maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.”

Please say I’m wrong Y/n. Please say prove me wrong, please say we’re worth it.

Although you were never really one to be driven by emotions, Jun always was. The one who never forgot anniversaries, the one who always tried to make every moment special, the one who always reminded you that you were not each other’s habits but each other’s love. Had things gone so far that the man who savoured every moment of being in love with you, thought it was better that you never met?

“Is that what you really think?” You whispered, ignoring the feeling of something pricking the back of your eyes.

Jun turned to you surprised. How could you even think that? Of course not-

“Careful!”

Headlights beamed from right across, but this time, Jun’s quick swerve was not enough.

As the car skidded wildly, with a sickening crunch it slammed into the side of the oncoming truck, the momentum sending it toppling over, rolling violently onto its roof with a screech of metal. As it came to a stop, the sun rose from above the clouds far away and steam rose from what was remaining of the crumpled vehicle. In the heavy stillness that followed, alongside the eerie whisper of the wind, streams of red mixed with the white of the snow.

Your boyfriend’s hand extending towards you was the last thing you saw before everything went black.

The Afterlife: 31st December 2024

Pain.

Unbearable pain.

That's what was searing through his body, over and over again. Everywhere, in every inch…. Just pain.

Perhaps because he hadn’t stopped running.

Jun had been running in the forest for what seemed like forever. Where to? He had no idea. Where from? He didn’t know that either.

All he knew was he was looking for something he had lost. Something clearly precious to him. Something he couldn’t live without.

Yet ignorantly, he kept running. Until....

Jun.

Your voice echoed around him like a soft whisper. Finally stopping by the lake, he looked around, frantically trying to find you.

It was then, across the frozen crystal clear waters he saw you - beautiful as ever, the only bright thing in the dark, daunting woods.

He wanted to go to you, he wanted to be with you but the slippery ice didn’t let him take a step forward.

Instead, you took a step back.

Then another one.

Then another.

Jun continued to call out your name, trying to stop you from receding into the shadows but in vain. Slowly you disappeared into the darkness, the black of the woods engulfing you as Jun fell to his knees, the ice cracking under him.

Shutting his eyes, he attempted to stop the pain but it only got worse. It was just pain, pain, pain.

When he opened them, white flickering lights were strangely swaying above him.

Blinking, Jun tried to see clearly but just then, the ice finally gave away, submerging him into the cold waters.

As the icy waters of the lake dragged him down, Jun felt his eyes slowly shut again and your name was the last thing he remembered.

The Awakening: 27th January 2025

The blur flickering light of the ceiling became clear as the rhythmic beeping of machines slowly pulled him from the depths of unconsciousness.

Head throbbing and body aching, an unsettling sense of disorientation washed over him, like he had been asleep for too long. Slowly raising himself on his elbows, Jun looked around, eyes finding the strange setting of a hospital room, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic finally hitting him.

Shutting his eyes again, he tried to recollect what happened, how he ended up here……

“Y/n…”

The argument.

The crash.

The sight of your eyes fluttering shut as blood trickled down your face.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, looking at all the tubes and wires attached to him, holding him back. Without an ounce of care, he tugged them off, triggering the loud alarms of the machines but before his feet even touched the cold tile of the floor, the doors flung open and a handful of people donning impeccably white coats spilled in, looking worried.

“Sir, please don’t-”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“You need to calm down, you’re not ok-”

He grabbed the collar of the man before him. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Where is Y/n?”

“We…” The doctor looked terrified. “Who is Y/n?”

Annoyed, Jun tugged on his shirt harder. “The car crash, there was a woman with me in the car, in the passenger seat, where is she?”

“What woman?” The man stuttered, looking at his team confused. “You were brought to our hospital alone.”

Shocked, Jun loosened his grip, allowing the doctor to quickly move back, putting himself at an arm’s distance.

Alone?

“That’s not possible….” He muttered. “She was with me, she should be here…”

“The accident happened in the countryside so you were taken to the nearest emergency care but your injuries were too severe so they shifted you here, to the city hospital.” The doctor looked at him slightly hesitating. “Maybe there was a woman with you, but she wasn’t brought here. Either her condition wasn’t serious enough or she didn’t….”

Eyes narrowing, Jun looked at the shivering man before him. “She didn’t, what?”

“S-she didn’t make it-”

“How dare you?” He spoke between gritted teeth, charging towards the doctor, only to be quickly held back by the nurses around him. “How dare you even suggest something like that-”

“Mr. Junhui, I was only stating the possibility-”

“What you’re saying is not possible-”

“Sir please, your heart rate is getting erratic-”

“I don’t care, I need to find her-”

“You can’t leave.”

“Stop me if you can.” Jun pulled himself free from the grip of those around him, leaving for the door, glaring at the crowd challengingly.

Only one of them dared to step forward - a woman, one not wearing a doctor’s coat, looking at him with sympathy rather than fear.

“Sir please….” She whispered softly, slowly approaching him, ignoring the worried looks of those around her. “I understand your worry and I’m so sorry for this but you need to calm down…. I have no other choice.”

Jun frowned as she neared, maintaining a strong, unavoidable eye contact, the contents of her hands completely missing his vision. Before he could understand what was happening, there was a prick in his arm, hands reaching out to him and the flickering light blurred again as his eyes shut.

28th January 2025

“Let me go.”

The events from about 24 hours ago had repeated again.

The fluttering lights, the machines, the wires, the tubes, the doctors - everything happened in the same sequence except there was one difference this time. When Jun tried to pull on the wires and swing his legs off the bed, he found all four of his limbs restrained.

“Please.” He whispered. “I need to find Y/n.”

“Sir, there really was no woman brought along with you.” The woman’s eyes reflected the same sympathy they had since the day he had been wheeled in. “We got your records from the emergency center you were taken to.”

Pulling out a bunch of papers from a file, she placed it on his lap. “There was a woman with you but she was discharged from there within a week.”

“A-a week?” Jun stuttered, looking around. “How long has it been since the accident?”

“Almost…” She looked at the papers thoughtfully. “Almost a month. You’ve been unconscious all this while, you sustained a traumatic injury to your-”

“What about Y/n?”

Stepping up and reading through the papers, the doctor from earlier spoke with his expertise. “She had a severe injury on her head too but she gained consciousness about a week after the accident and she…. just left.”

“Just left?” It felt as though something cold was just dumped on his head. “Just left me?”

“Mr. Jun, we’re not sure what exactly happened but….” The woman looked at him uncertainly. “The last few weeks that you were here, no woman has come to visit you. Y/n hasn’t been around.”

Jun let out a shaky breath, “She probably didn’t know I was here. She… she must be looking for me, she must be so worried. I should go to her-”

“You’re not well enough to leave.” The doctor spoke from behind the woman, worried even though Jun’s movements were restrained. “I wouldn’t suggest-”

“I don’t want your suggestion. I want you to open these-” He tugged on the belts. “-so I can go.”

Everyone exchanged looks, shifting in their places.

“Open them!”

“Again, I’m sorry Mr. Jun.” The woman approached him slowly, an injection clearly visible in her hand this time. “This is for your good.”

Once again, everything became blur before it all went dark.

31st January 2025

“She didn’t pick the call.” The woman without a coat, who’s name Jun learnt was Mira, walked up to him. “Again.”

Sighing, Jun looked outside the window. The streets were busy - cars were going up and down, people were walking about, some laughing, some stressed. But everything was moving, everyone was moving. Only his life had come to a standstill.

“Do you remember anyone else’s number?”

Jun shook his head. “Who even memorises numbers these days? Everything is stored on my phone-”

“-which broke in the accident.” She finished for him.

“I only remember my girlfriend’s number because she forced me to remember it in case of emergencies like these.” He chuckled softly, walking up to the wall with the pictures of the two of you stuck all over. He ran his fingers over the picture of you hugging him from behind, head resting on his shoulder. “She was always so well prepared, always a step ahead….. except now.”

When Jun woke up 3 days ago, Mira had been there to tell him you were nowhere to be found. She had looked for you at home, which had been abandoned for over a month, at the library where you often worked on your projects, at the stores where you preferred to shop, at the park where you jogged every morning. You were nowhere.

Your family was nowhere to be seen either - the house was locked and the neighbours claimed they had gone somewhere overseas. There was no trace of you at all - it was like you had vanished into thin air, like you were just a mirage, a dream.

“I wish I could help Jun.” Mira walked up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, looking around his apartment. “I’m sorry the only thing I could assist you with is getting you back home. But I had someone clean up the place so it should be more habitable now.”

“Thank you Mira, for everything.” He muttered, slowly moving her arm away, tearing his eyes away from the photographs. “I’m sorry, I… I think I should….. shower, I smell like the hospital.”

She nodded as Jun disappeared into the washroom, wordlessly asking her to leave. Grabbing her bag, she shot him one last sad look as she hesitatingly made her way out.

Standing before the mirror, Jun sighed at his reflection - he had never seen himself look this lifeless. Wincing in pain, he removed his shirt slowly, pulling it over his head - almost healed gashes and wounds were littered all over his torso.

The memory of an injured you flashed behind his shut eyes.

“Where are you Y/n?” He whispered, trying not to let his voice shake. “Come back to me.”

Jun glanced at the small coffee shop across the road, one he had never seen before, the hanging sign board slowly swaying in the cold wind - Lonely Hearts Cafe.

So many things had changed over the last month. He, who was the biggest homebody known to mankind, could not bear to stay in his house for another minute. Not where every inch of it was filled with the essence of you, where everything was a reminder of you. A part of him was relieved that there were pictures and traces of you were everywhere - that meant you were real, not a figment of his imagination…. but that also made your absence hurt more.

He had spent the last few hours wandering the streets mindlessly, trying not to let everything outside the haven the two of you built together remind him of you too.

But there you were, in your favourite pizza shop on the corner of the street, munching on a slice. Just as he approached, shocked and frantic, you disappeared, like you were never there. And then he saw you again, at the hairdressers this time, getting just the ends trimmed, like always. And then you were by the butchers, petting that little dog you adored. And then by the lake, glancing at the frozen waters, vanishing as usual when he approached to stand by you. Even though you weren’t really around, his eyes found the memories of you everywhere - it was like he didn’t know a life without you.

There was no life without you.

The cafe he was currently staring at was perhaps the only place that Jun knew he wouldn’t see you. It looked new, like a business that had just freshly found itself in this vicinity but something about it was also whimsical and fairytale-like, as though it was someone’s old dream came true. Jun had never been a coffee kinda guy - Chinese tea was usually his go-to beverage so it didn’t make sense why he felt this strange urge to go in. Maybe because he knew he wouldn’t be haunted by your absence there.

At first, he took a step ahead, attempting to go towards it but he was unable to take another - he didn’t want to not see you. Even though it hurt, he’d rather see the memories of you everywhere than familiarise himself with a life without you.

So shaking his head, he turned away, heading back home, going back to everything that reminded him of you when…… something caught his eye.

At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him again because there was no way….

Inching closer, ignoring the oncoming traffic and the screaming drivers, he crossed the road, standing right before the large glass windows of the shop. Slowly raising his hand, he wiped the condensation off the frosted glass, catching a clear sight of what was inside.

You.

There you were, walking about in a little checkered apron, placing cups of coffee on the table as you flashed your bright smile at those who were seated.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jun turned around, fists tightened painfully. You’ll disappear again, just like all those times before, you’ll disappear again, he was just imagining this, projecting his innermost desire. You weren’t really here….right?

But the sound of your laughter told him he was wrong. Quickly turning back, he caught sight of you again, making your way to the counter, putting cash into a large glass jar on the wooden shelf.

As though in a trance, Jun walked over to the door and pushed it open, eyes not leaving you as you laughed and scribbled something down on a notepad before walking to the tables with a bounce in your strut he had never seen before.

Just as your name found itself on the tip of his tongue, you stopped your tracks and turned around, eyes finding him walking in, lips curling with a wide smile.

“Hi sir, welcome to Lonely Hearts Cafe.” Clutching the notepad to your chest, you beamed at him. “Do you want to take a seat or get a drink to go?”

“Y/n…” He whispered, barely able to hear himself, taking a small step ahead.

“Oh I almost forgot,” You softly smacked your head. “If you’re interested, we’re having a small valentines special event, for singles. Any two people who get the exact same drink will be paired to sit at the same table. It’s kind of a ‘if your tastes match, maybe you guys will too’ sort of concept?”

Given he was staring at you with a vacant expression, you blinked at him like you weren’t quite sure if he understood.

Jun didn’t understand. Why were you behaving like he was a stranger? Like you didn’t know him.

Maybe…. this wasn’t you.

“So…” Tucking your loose fringes behind your ear, you tried searching his face for an answer. “What would you like?”

Jun’s eyes flickered to the healing gash on your forehead, the night of the accident, flashing in his mind again.

It was you. There was no doubt it was you.

And so without a second thought, Jun took two big strides, pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Excuse me?! Sir-”

“Where have you been?” He muttered, not realising you were struggling to break free from his grip. “I’ve been looking for you-”

“Get off me!” Using all your strength, you pushed him off you, causing the man to take a few staggering steps back, shocked.

All heads in the cafe turned towards the two of you, a strange silence descending upon the room before hushed whispers broke out. Flashing a fake smile at everyone, you quickly grabbed Jun by his wrist, leading him out of the cafe, shutting the door behind you.

“What the hell was that?” You glared at him. “Sir, I don’t know who you think you are, but that was unacceptable.”

Jun blinked at you confused. “I thought….I thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought.” You crossed your arms looking stern, all the warmth from earlier having left your being. “If I ever see you in my cafe again, I swear to god I will call the cops.”

“You…” Jun looked at you incredulously. “You’ll call the cops on me?”

“Most definitely.”

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Why would you call the cops on him? Were you mad at him about something?

Jun’s racked his mind, trying to think of the last conversation the two of you had. The night of the accident. He couldn’t remember all too well, but the image of you glancing at your empty ring finger flashed in his mind.

“Is this about….getting married?” You frowned as Jun ran his hands through his hair. “If it really means this much to you then, fine, let’s get married. I just wanted it to be-”

“Married?” You looked at him like you couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Why on Earth would I marry you? I don’t even know you-”

“Jun!”

At the sound of his name, Jun turned around, only to find himself being slammed into the familiar chest of a tall, lanky man. The fragrance of expensive perfume immediately told him who it was - His best friend Minghao. As Jun tried to break free from his friend’s untimely interruption, Minghao held him tight, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t say a word.”

“Mr. Xu.” You glanced at the intertwined figures of both men, eyebrows furrowed. “You know this man?”

“Y/n.” Breaking free, Minghao threw his arm around Jun, flashing a hard smile. “This is Jun, he’s a dear friend. Sorry if he said anything or got out of line - he was just discharged from the hospital after a big accident, he’s a bit disoriented.”

“Oh.” You looked at him up and down as though it all made sense and you were unable to decide whether to feel sympathetic or stand your ground. “Mr. Jun, I’m sorry you went through all that but whatever you did, that was not appropriate at all.”

“Y/n what-”

“Yes of course.” Minghao squeezed Jun’s shoulder, shutting him up. “He won’t be troubling you again.”

“If you really do need a cup of coffee, there are a lot more shops down the street that I’m sure will suit your taste.” You took a step back, reaching for the door again, expression unreadable. “Please don’t come back to me.”

With that you pushed the door open and disappeared into the cafe allowing Minghao to finally let go of his friend who turned to him, beyond confused.

“What…. What was that?” He pointed at you, waiting the tables again inside, like nothing happened. Like he didn’t exist.

“Jun…” Minghao let out a shaky breath, looking carefully at his friend. “Let’s go home, I’ll explain everything.”

“No.” Shaking his head frantically, he reached for the door again. “I’m not going anywhere without Y/n.”

Moving quickly, Minghao put himself in between, blocking the way.

“Please.” He held his hand out. “Y/n, she…. she won’t come with you.”

Jun looked at him incredulously. “Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t remember….” Minghao spoke slowly, watching his friend’s face carefully. “She doesn’t remember you.”

The throbbing pain was back.

Actually, it never left. The pain was always there, it was him who had suppressed it under everything else. But with the revelation of things, it became unhinged, freely coursing in his being, hurting everywhere.

Minghao poured Jun another cup of tea as the two men sat at the dining table, the latter still clutching a photo of you, trying to make sense of all that he was told.

“She….she doesn’t remember me at all?” He frowned, still confused. “Because of…. you?”

“Because she doesn’t want to.” Minghao corrected his friend, yet again. “Jun, it was her choice to do the procedure.”

The procedure.

Minghao had spoken all about it in great detail for the last half an hour. It all went over his head though, Jun didn’t register a single piece of the information thrown at him except one thing - the procedure was to remove memories.

Yes apparently that was a thing. A new initiative by Minghao’s company - a simple medical procedure in which one could choose to erase their memories of a certain period of time. A process straight out of the sci-fi books - one so ridiculous, Jun would have never believed it if it weren’t coming out of his best friend's mouth.

That his girlfriend had gotten all her memories of him wiped from her mind.

“It makes no sense.” Jun shook his head. “Why would she want to forget me? Why would she choose to…”

Minghao looked at his friend staring at your photo sadly. He had always known Jun to be someone full of life - he was ambitious, passionate and always bursting with energy. But now he looked like the whole world had come crashing around him.

“I’m sorry Jun.” Minghao could feel the guilt eating him on the inside. “All of it happened in my company, right under my nose but I had no idea Y/n had gotten it done till it was all over. Maybe if I had reached the clinic just a little earlier, I could have stopped them from injecting the serum-”

“No Hao, whether you could stop her or not, it won’t change the fact that Y/n wanted to….” Jun swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “She didn’t want to just leave me or walk away from this relationship, she wanted to erase its entire existence from her life. To pretend like it never happened. But why…”

“I wish I knew Jun.” Minghao shook his head softly. “All I know is that this choice mustn't have been easy for her - to forget you she had to have the last 10 years of her life removed. That’s how far she was willing to go to…”

Minghao's words rang in his ears.

10 years….

Maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.

The night of the accident…. that's what he had said.

Oh god, was that why you….

What had he done?

“Jun?” Minghao snapped his fingers before his friend's face. “Where are you lost-”

“This was a mistake.” Jun shook his head. “This was all a horrible misunderstanding. I didn’t mean…”

“Mean what?”

Jun couldn’t even recall why he had said that. It was like his brain was suppressing the stupidity from recurring.

“I need to talk to her. I need to fix this.”

“How exactly-”

“I’ll marry her, right this instant if that’s what it takes-”

“Jun no-”

“Hao, yes.” He turned to his friend, determined. “I can fix it. I can talk to her and sort this out. Just help me put her memories back again-”

“That’s not-”

“-and I’ll make her see how much I love her-”

“Jun, that's not possible.” Minghao raised his voice, interrupting his friend’s rant. “Dealing with memories isn’t child’s play. It's one thing to remove them, but to restore them? That’s impossible.”

It felt like everything around was shattering. “You mean she won't ever….”

Minghao shook his head, delivering the final blow. “She won't… ever.”

Jun stared at the photo in his hand.

Minghao, who had insisted on staying the night, had hit the shower, his tea sitting cold in its cup.

Cold draft was blowing in through the open kitchen window. The tips of his fingers were frozen but they were not colder than the thing wrapping around his heart, eating it away.

Minghao’s last words as he was lingering by the door rang in his ears.

“Y/n chose to forget you Jun, she chose to restart her life. Maybe it’s best that you do too.”

Restart his life? Pretend like you didn’t exist and move on? How on Earth was he supposed to do that?

He glanced at the room around him - at the pictures of you on the walls, at the vase you brought back from your trip to spain, at the coasters you always made sure to use, at the rug you specifically had made to match the couch, at every single thing in his life that was a testament of you. How was he supposed to forget all of it?

But the truth was, you had forgotten it all. You had walked out of his life, your home and everything the two of you had built together over the last 10 years. None of this around him meant anything to you anymore.

You had built a new world for yourself, one which Jun had reached, lost in his thoughts. The cafe, the coffee, the customers, the infectious smile on your face, the little bounce in strut, the way your hair fell over your shoulder as you’d turn - you had built something that had no trace of him but more importantly, you looked so happy. Jun couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile this wide, or even laugh at something stupid. The winter was harsh on the city outside but everything around you seemed so warm.

Maybe Minghao was right. Maybe it was best that he forgot it all too.

1st February 2025

“Where do I put this?”

Jun turned to Mira who was holding up a bunch of books in her arms.

“They're all cookbooks, but I'm not sure whether to put it in the box with her law books or in the one with magazines.”

“We can just leave these out.” Taking them from here, Jun walked into the kitchen. “We don't have to put away everything.”

Sighing Mira followed him. “Jun, boss said everything. Everything that belongs to her, everything that reminds you of her.”

Jun stared at the books in his hands. Two hours ago, he was sprawled on the couch half asleep, your scarf wrapped around his hand, a frame with your photo in his arms. Much to his annoyance, the consistent ringing of the bell forced him to drag himself to the door and standing on the other side was Mira.

Jun didn't think he would ever have any reason to see her again but apparently, Mira wasn't just a random hospital staff who helped him - she was in fact Minghao's employee, a psychiatrist who worked in his Memory Wipe project and was asked by him to look after Jun till he came around, as a favour. That day when she left the apartment, she had immediately told Minghao about all that happened - that's how he found his friend declaring he was ready to marry you in front of the coffee shop. Mira though, had no idea about you or that you had your memories wiped - she only found out when Minghao, who left early in the morning for a meeting, sent her over to Jun’s house with a new phone and a contract. A contract to obliterate the last 10 years of his memories.

“You want me to erase her existence?” Jun furiously muttered into the phone. “How did you even think-”

“Will you be able to survive with her memories?” Even though he couldn't see his face, Jun knew Minghao was donning a sorry expression. “It'll kill slowly you, Jun. Not being able to be with her, not being able to forget her, not being able to move on. If I had to name something worse than hell, this is it.”

For long after the call ended, Jun stared at the contact papers on the coffee table, his mind disturbed. As much as he didn't want to distance himself from you, could he really live with the fact that you'll never be his again? It had been barely 2 days since he was awake and he was already at the verge of losing his mind. Maybe it was better he too forgot it all.

But it also pained him to think that if both of you forgot everything, then there was no one who truly knew the kind of pure and unwavering love the two of you shared over the last ten years. At least for the sake of those, he had to stay strong, he had to live with this. But could he really?

And it was thoughts like this that had him rooted to his chair for over an hour.

“You don't have to decide now.” Mira interrupted his cycle of thought, tired of watching his unmoving figure. “The procedure is simple. I already have the 10 year formula ready in your name. All you have to do is just come by the centre when you're ready - one injection and it'll be done.”

As much as Jun was grateful for the time, there was one thing Minghao wanted him to do immediately - clear the apartment of anything and everything that belonged to you. That's what the two of them were in the middle of right now as Mira glanced at the cookbooks in his hands.

“Jun, whether or not you want to get the Memory Wipe, you need to get rid of all these things. You won't ever move on otherwise-”

“They're cookbooks.” Jun rolled his eyes, placing them on the shelf of the kitchen. “Has it not occurred to you that I might use these myself?”

Mira stared at him like she didn't believe him but Jun ignored her. There was no way he was going to get rid of every last bit of you. What would be left of him then?

All your clothes were packed and stashed in the store room, all the pictures of the two of you were taken down, your books, your things, everything was sealed and locked away. Except a few that Jun refused to let go - the lavender cream you used every night, the harmonica you loved to play, the cookbooks you swore would make you a better chef than him. Jun didn't have the heart to walk away from all of it just yet.

Giving up, Mira began walking away. “I'm going to put her shoes away.”

“Wait.” Aligning the books hurriedly, Jun quickly ran over to the closet. “Maybe just leave those heels.”

Mira looked exasperated. “What use could you possibly have of women's footwear?”

Nothing. Jun just loved those black stilettos you wore to work - the sound of them against the wooden flooring was what told him you were home everyday.

“Jun, this whole thing isn't just about you getting over Y/n. If you plan to do the Memory Wipe, you especially need to do this” Mira stood up sighing. “Imagine losing 10 years of your life and coming home and finding a woman's things all over. You won't remember her, you won't know what happened, you won't have any answers, it'll drive you mad. Please, listen to me, you need to get rid of it all.”

Jun turned away, peeling his eyes from the closet as Mira put the last of your footwear in the boxes, looking at him sadly.

“How did Minghao even design this procedure?” Jun glanced at the contact papers fluttering on the table. “I knew he was indulging in some biomedical R&D, I had no idea it was this intense.”

Mira chuckled. “Biomedical R&D barely covers the scope of what he does. Let's just say the Xu enterprises dabble in a lot of things and the Memory Wipe is their latest project. Actually its just undergoing it's last clinical trial - it’s not even advertised or available for the public.”

“How did Y/n get to know about it then?” Jun frowned like it didn't make sense. “Minghao never talks business with me and I'm sure he's never mentioned it to her either. Then…”

“There were a bunch of lawyers involved in the legal aspects of the clinical trials.” Mira confessed, shrugging. “Maybe she heard from someone in the fraternity.”

“Funny.” Jun smiled sadly. “Y/n has never been one for office gossip. She just liked to get her work done and head straight back home. It was always about efficiency and not wasting time.”

Mira smiled. “That's an admirable work ethic.”

“Right? I wish I had that.” Jun glanced out of the window at the snow tumbling out of the sky. “Maybe she wouldn't have had to work so hard if I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Jun glanced at Mira who had joined him, before continuing to stare out.

“Y/n always believed in working hard. For her, a job was simply a means to make money. She didn't associate it with dreams or passion, it was just… survival? Me on the other hand, ever since I was a child, all I wanted to do was be an actor. I spent the last, god knows how many years, chasing that dream, picturing myself before the cameras, walking down red carpets. If I look back at my life, all I see are auditions and rejections and more rejections.”

“It's not wrong to want to live your dream.”

“No it's not but I don't know how right it is to live with your head in the clouds. Y/n always had her feet on the ground - that was the only reason we survived through it all.”

“So your story is the ‘opposites attract’ kind?”

“I guess.” Jun laughed softly. “We were polar opposites actually. She hates talking, I'm always chatting away. She's a mess, I'm neat. She hates doing household chores, I love doing them. Even in food, she loves sweet things, I like them spicy. Our preferences in anything, be it music or movies or where to go or what to wear, they were always so different but I guess….that's what made things fun. Sometimes she'd adjust for me, sometimes me for her, and though things weren't going our way, we were happy because we were making each other happy.”

“Wow.” Mira let out a breath. “I always thought being in love with someone entirely from me would be difficult to handle.”

“If I'm being honest, there were times it did get difficult.” Jun wiped the condensation off the window with his hand, catching sight of your cafe across the street. “Y/n lived life like it was a checklist. Graduating high school at 18, then law school at 23, first job at 24, marriage at 25, three kids by the time she's 30, retired by 55, starting an organic farm business at 57 and then dying whenever - she had her whole life planned. Me on the other hand, I… live in the moment, go where life takes me. Everything around us is so uncertain, think about the accident”

Jun’s voice shook as fragments of it flashed in his head.

“We could have died, life as we know could have ended, so what's the point in deciding everything so prematurely? I take life by the day, I enjoy every moment - one day I'm doing martial arts classes for kids, one day I'm teaching old women some Chinese dishes, one day I'm doing a modelling contract. End of the day, I still make money to feed myself and pay my bills, I just don't go to bed having the next 10 years of my life planned and somehow….. I think that's what drove us apart. That's why she…” Jun let out a deep breath. “That's why she decided to start afresh. Her practicality and my emotional disposition just… didn't find any middle ground.”

Mira softly placed her hand on Jun's shoulder, caressing it with her thumb. Clearing his throat, he took a step back, tearing his eyes away from the coffee house.

“We should probably continue with the packing.”

Mira nodded as she followed him, the two of them sorting things silently this time. Normally Jun wouldn't ever let go of a chance to talk about you, but now, given he had to speak about you in past tense, Jun couldn't bring himself to talk about you over and over again. Minghao was right, it was all just getting harder and harder.

And so, the next few hours were navigated in mostly silence and occasional questions. By the time the sun had begun to set, the two of them were done - all of your things had been neatly packed and put in the store room, the door locked, keys stashed in Mira's pocket for safe keeping. A couple of things had been piled by the door to be thrown out, Jun's take out dinner had arrived and Mira was lingering by the door, ready to leave. Yet the contract papers were sitting on the table, like an elephant in the room. Unable to hold herself back anymore, Mira sighed.

“Jun, I know Minghao left the choice to you but as a professional and as someone who cares about you, I think it's best you…. " She gulped. "sign the contract. I've seen some couples after the clinical trials, trust me, you don't want to live this weight-”

“Mira,” Jun’s voice left him between gritted teeth. “It's been barely 2 days since I got to know about what Y/n did. I haven't even decided if I am to be sad or angry or stay or move on.” He shut his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “The only reason I agreed to keep her things away or allowed someone else to even touch them was because one, I trust Minghao more than anything and two, if I really want to, I know I'm strong enough to break the door of that storeroom and get everything back. But what you're asking of me, is a permanent change. Please just…. Let me think things through at my pace.”

Mira blinked at him, her hand on the handle of the door, unmoving.

“Thank you for your help yet again Mira, but I think it's time you go.”

And before the apology even left her mouth as she stepped out, Jun shut the door behind her, leaning against it.

He just needed some time. That’s all.

Or at least that's what he thought but in just a few hours, he realised he didn't.

Yesterday was perhaps bearable because Minghao, although he didn't speak much, was there in the house. Today though, heating up his food all alone, sitting at the table by himself, walking around his house in the dimness of the night lights, staring at the empty walls and empty shelves - it was all too much. Jun couldn't bring himself to go another day like this, forget the rest of his life.

Taking a deep breath he sat on the couch, pulling the papers towards himself, then pen in his hand shaking.

He wasn't strong enough for this - he couldn't go on without you.

Finally making up his mind, he gripped the pen tight and signed the contract. There was no other way.

But the universe said otherwise.

If Jun had just turned around and gone to his room, things would've gone down very differently. Maybe if he decided to sleep instead of clearing the dishes and throwing the trash, he would've never thought about clearing all the boxes that Mira left by the door. Maybe then he wouldn't have come across that box.

At first glance when he opened it, it seemed like odd bits of trash - there were pieces of paper, little trinkets, bills and what not. He was just about to throw it when his eye caught the familiar logo on one of the bills - the Lovers Cavern. The first Michelin star restaurant that Jun had taken you to on a date. Frowning, he ran his fingers through the contents of the box, recognising them one by one. Carnival and movie tickets, the crinkled wrapper of the ice cream he loves, the magnets from your first road trip together, the dried corsage from your first dance together…. everything was a thoughtful piece of the time the two of you spent together.

You had been carefully saving them over the last 10 years.

Jun stared at it wordlessly, lost in thought. He had never taken you as one for sentimentality. Hell you didn't even like taking photos or recording videos of your time together, he was always the one who had to pull you in, forcing you to smile. He had always assumed those small moments meant nothing to you but this box told him a different story - you had been treasuring them all these years in your own way. This relationship wasn’t just part of a checklist, you had been emotionally invested in it since the beginning, since 10 years.

Jun could only imagine how much his words must have hurt you that day…. Clearly enough to make you take such a big step. You didn't walk away because you wanted to. You walked away because of him. His words made you…. it was his fault.

Walking over to the window, Jun glanced at your cafe, watching as you stepped out with a couple of bags in your hands, turning off the lights and locking the door. As you balanced your things in your hands, waving for a cab, Jun slowly realised….. Minghao was wrong.

His only options weren't to either live with your memories alone or forget you and move on. There was a third one. One that Jun was about to choose.

He was going to get you back. He had done it once and he could do it again.

Jun was going to make you fall in love with him all over again.

2nd February 2025

Rubbing the back of your sore neck, you sat down at the benches outside the cafe, enjoying the cold.

One might think you were stupid for sitting in the snow clad street in just a small dress and an apron but the heat of the coffee was getting unbearable. Sipping on your own coffee, you glanced at the hustle and bustle down the street. Everyone looked so busy, like they were navigating life with a purpose. This coffee shop had always been your purpose, the dream you had been living for almost a month now yet something felt unfulfilled. Something was missing. Before you could figure out what, a voice broke you out of your reverie.

“Is the same drink, same table offer still going on?”

Raising your head, you let your eyes find the man who interrupted the few minutes of your me-time.

“Mr. Wen Junhui.” You cleared your throat, letting the annoyance show on your face. “I believe I had asked you not to enter my shop?”

“You did.” Jun nodded, sitting down beside you, a few feet away. “And I did not enter your shop - technically I'm outside.”

You glared at him, eyes narrowed.

“Well since you're such an ardent follower of what I say, you shouldn't be sitting with me either because-”

“Because I need to have the same drink as you, right?” Jun cocked his head at you, raising his cup. “And I do.”

“There's no way.” You chuckled, taking a sip. “I can assure you, you don't.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Jun took a sip, smiling to himself because he knew he was not wrong. No one knew you better than him. “But I think that's a caramel macchiato with hazelnut cream.”

Lips slightly parted in surprise, you stared at him.

“M-maybe.” You muttered, taking a sip yourself. “But I still don’t think it’s the exact same-”

“Yeah, it might not be exact.” Jun shrugged nonchalantly. “Not like I’m lactose intolerant or anything but I felt like taking it with oat milk today.”

The cup nearly slipped from your hand. You were lactose intolerant. You always took your coffee with oat milk.

Choosing not to tell him that, you simply continued to stare at the busy crowd. Jun let out an inward sigh of relief knowing he had earned the place to sit next to you.

“Y/n…” Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. Baby steps Jun. “Ms. Y/n I uh actually wanted to apologise about that day.”

You turned to him, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“I had actually just gotten out of the hospital that day and I don’t think the anesthesia wore off completely so I was apparently just going around and…. proposing marriage to various women.”

You raised your eyebrows like you didn’t believe him.

“It’s true, I spent the whole day today saying sorry to every business owner on this street…. And drinking the same coffee order as them. I think I’m going to have a tough time in the bathroom tomorrow….”

Scoffing, you turned away from him and if Jun didn’t know you better, he wouldn’t have known you were hiding a tiny smile.

“Again I’m really Ms. Y/n, I wish that didn’t happen and that we could have a fresh start. I was really looking forward to having coffee here.”

Letting out a deep resigned breath, you stood up, chugging the last of your drink. Tossing the cup in the bin, you turned to him, clasping your hands before you politely, giving him a small smile.

“Mr. Wen Junhui, welcome to Lonely Hearts cafe. We’re a small business that opened just a month ago so we’ve got some really good deals on coffee and cake. We even have a Valentine’s day event - you get to share a table with the person who has the same drink as you. I hope we see you around.”

Returning your smile, Jun got up, giving a small shrug. “That Valentine’s day event is interesting - I would love to… be seen around.” He chuckled, holding his hand out. “It’s nice knowing you Ms. Y/n.”

Glancing at his outstretched hand, you slowly took it, wrapping your fingers around it. Somehow on the cold winter day, there was a strange warmth radiating between the two of you.

“It’s nice getting to know you too Mr. Jun.”

3rd February 2025

“You know, you don’t look like someone who enjoys coffee.”

Jun turned at the sound of your voice, finding you right beside the door he just walked in. You had a tray in your hands and an amused smile on your face.

“What makes you say that?”

“The face you made yesterday?” You laughed as you walked in, Jun following behind you. “I’ve never seen someone look so disgusted while drinking coffee.”

Jun suppressed a smile as he leaned against the counter. “Oh so you were watching me.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards the machines. “I happened to see.”

“The one yesterday was just too sweet.” He shuddered, recalling the taste. “My taste buds were dying.”

“Well obviously it was sweet, it’s caramel.” You pulled out a piece of cake, putting it on the counter as a waitress walked over, taking it. “Did you expect it to taste like Malatang?”

Oh Jun would love some Malatang right now.

“No, but something told me your coffee would taste much better than that one.”

You chuckled, pulling up a cup. “Is that going to be your order for today?’

“Nope.” Jun shook his head. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“What I’m having?” You frowned, confused.

“How else will I be able to share a table with you?”

Jun could tell you were holding back a smile. “And why would you want to do that?”

“I thought coffee with a side of conversation would be nice.”

“I’m working.”

“I’ll wait.”

“I only get off at 5.”

“I’ll wait.”

“And then I need to head straight home.”

“I just need 10 minutes.”

You raised your eyebrows like you were trying to figure out what his intentions were. Meanwhile, he looked at you determined, like he’ll wait for a lifetime, if that’s what it took. Sighing you pulled out a piece of cake and set it before him. Then changing your mind, you quickly swapped it for a couple of lemon biscuits and slid it to him.

“They’re on the house.”

And with that you tightened your apron and walked away, leaving Jun staring at his favourite biscuits on the counter.

“Do you need any help?”

You looked up from the table you were cleaning at Jun who was still here, his coat discarded, cheeks flushed red and eyes tired.

“I have staff Mr. Jun.”

“She left.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Told me to inform you.”

“Huh.” You frowned. “She always stays till I close for the extra ten I hand her every day.”

Jun remained silent, looking away.

“You paid her.”

“I was just helping her go home fast.”

Sighing, you straightened yourself, crossing your arms. “Okay what is it, what do you want?”

“I told you, a conversation.”

“Well that’s what we’re having right?”

“Right…” Jun cleared his throat, unsure how to frame his sentences while you continued to look at him expectantly. When he didn’t say anything, you rolled your eyes and continued cleaning up.

“I was thinking…” You held out the tray, making him quickly free his hands to hold it as you began stacking plates and cutlery on it. “You’re a woman.”

“Are you doubting it?” Frowning, you walked over to the trash can, Jun right behind, struggling to balance everything.

“No! I mean I wasn’t thinking if you were a woman, more like I was thinking since you’re a woman and I’m a man….”

Jun trailed off completely lost about where he was going with this till you relieved him of the weight in his arms, placing the tray in the sink.

“Mr. Jun,” You untied your apron, tucking it on the rod of the drawer. “You only have 10 minutes.”

“Okay okay.” Jun recomposed himself, watching you pack up your things for the night. Looks like he just had to get straight to the point. “Yes I have 10 minutes right now, but my worry is, we only have 10 days.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's Valentine's in 10 days….” Jun muttered below his breath trying to gauge your reaction.

“Are you…” You narrowed your eyes at him unsure. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

“No god,” Jun groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I swear I planned it so much better in my head-”

“Don’t.”

And with that one word, you crushed everything. All the hope, the longing, the yearning.

“Look Mr. Jun, normally I wouldn't go into the details but I don't want you to think I'm blowing you off but about a month ago, I got a Memory Wipe. I lost the last ten years of my life and I’m still trying to come to terms with how much things have changed.... I’m just not ready for any kind of commitment.”

“But….” Jun blinked at you confused. “You smiled…”

“Sorry?”

“Yesterday and today…. I thought, you might also…”

“Mr. Jun.” You sighed, donning your jacket, zipping up. “You’re a good looking man, you’re sweet and I can tell you’d be a good conversation but I didn’t mean for it to be more than that. I just assumed it would be some harmless flirting.”

“I don’t want it to just be harmless flirting.” Jun shook his head. “I want something more. I like you and I want to-”

“Like me, why?” You looked at him confused, grabbing your bags. “We’ve barely spoken more than 5 sentences to each other.”

We’ve been in love for more than 10 years Y/n.

“I can’t explain it, it just…. feels right.”

“Well I can’t function based on your whims and feelings, can I?”

Jun stood frozen as you turned off the lights and opened the door, stepping out. Grabbing his jacket he followed you, watching you lost in thought as you locked the door before you turned to him.

“Look, you seem like a nice guy and I’m sure you’ll find someone. It just can’t be me, I’m not in the space for it.” Adjusting the bags in your hands, you shot him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry Mr. Jun.”

And with that you walked away, your figure moving further and getting smaller as cold winds returned to the city. For some stupid reason, Jun hadn’t anticipated this - he didn’t think about the possibility of you rejecting his advances. He just assumed the two of you would fall into the comfortable pattern of dating each other and everything would slowly return to normal. Your disappearing self was telling him otherwise….

No.

Jun couldn’t allow this to happen. He couldn’t lose this chance.

“Wait!” Pulling his jacket over his shivering body, he ran to you, half tripping on the way. “Wait, please.”

And you did, looking at his panting, coughing self standing in your way, trying to catch his breath. Searching your bags, you handed him a bottle of water but Jun ignored it, looking at you questioningly.

“If whatever happened to you a month ago, didn’t happen, would you agree to go out on a date with a guy like me?”

“I….” You looked around confused. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have any other reason not to give us… to give me a shot?” Crossing his fingers, Jun tucked his hands in his pocket. “Any other reason to say no?”

“Not really, no.”

Bingo.

“I’m sure the aftermath of the Memory Wipe hasn't been easy but life won’t stop just because you want things to pause.” Gulping he looked at you expectantly. “Look Y/n I too am in a space where things are difficult where I want to hit rewind, but I realised maybe it’s better to hit restart and I want to try that with you.”

“Jun I…”

“Here’s my suggestion, just hear me out.” He clasped his hands, ignoring the cold drafts. “Give me 10 days, just 10 days to change your mind about us. I know I can do it, I know I can make you see I’m worth it, that we’re worth it.”

“You’re really not going to take no for an answer are you?”

Jun shook his head, his face falling. “No I…. I don’t want to force you. I was just suggesting-”

“What if I’m not convinced in 10 days?” You sighed, looking at him unsure. “Will you leave the idea of ‘us’ behind and not pursue me anymore?"

“It won’t come to that-”

“If it does.”

“If it does,” Jun took a deep breath. “Then you’ll never see me again. I promise.”

And with that you went silent, like you were considering it. Jun prayed to all possible forces in the universe - please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.

“Okay.” You agreed, slowly nodding your head. “You have 10 days. If I’m not convinced, then on the 10th day, we’re done and we’re never seeing each other again, deal?”

Smiling on the inside, Jun ignored the little victory lap his head was doing. “Deal.”

“And you’re sure this will work?”

Phone against his ear, Jun nodded confidently.

“Positive.”

“What if you’re just setting yourself up for heartbreak again?”

“I’m not.” Jun rolled his eyes. “I know I can get her back. This time I’ll be better-”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Minghao voice was filled with caution. “She’s somehow not the same. The Y/n you knew was a hard core, cut throat lawyer. This Y/n is a barista who sells coffee and the idea of love.”

Jun hummed in thought. “Maybe. But deep down, she’s still my Y/n and I’m her Jun. I know her better than anyone else, I can do this-”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then I’ll live with it. But I can’t let her go without trying.”

“And what if it still doesn’t work?”

“I don’t want to consider that possibility.”

“Jun be realistic. How on Earth do you plan on convincing a woman who thinks you’re a complete stranger, is struggling with her amnesia, and more importantly doesn’t want any commitment, to date you?”

Jun sank into his couch, staring at the ceiling.

“I have no idea.” He confessed.

“Exactly, what if things get worse for you-”

“Can you just for once be a tad bit more positive?” Jun sighed. “Look at the bright side of things. Like for example, Y/n knew I didn’t like coffee-”

“-you make the most disgusting face known to mankind when you drink it, anyone would know-”

“-and she knew I like malatang-”

“-you’re Chinese Jun. I think that was a safe guess-”

“-and she knew lemon biscuits were my favourite dessert.”

This time Minghao went silent.

“Nothing snarky to say?”

When Minghao continued to keep quiet, Jun frowned, sitting up.

“Hao do you think she… remembered?”

“That’s not possible....”

"You don't sound as sure as last time." Jun noted.

Minghao let out a deep breath, like he was frustrated. “Theoretically, a memory restoration is not possible but hearing you I.... I can't tell for sure - we're also still not done with the clinical trials so I cannot exactly negate the possibility."

"So,,," Jun's eyes widened. "You're saying there is a chance she might remember everything?"

"A really really small chance.....” Minghao emphasised. "Or it could just be that since Y/n has known you for ten odd years, some her actions are just reflexive - ingrained in her subconscious after years of habit."

"But you're saying there's a small chance she might remember me again?"

Minghao sighed. Clearly, his friend wanted to just hear one thing.

"Yes. Perhaps if she's repeatedly exposed to you or to something of her past, she might remember certain things again-"

"Enough to make her want to come back to me?"

"I cannot promise that-"

"But I can try." Jun whispered, the cogwheels in his mind turning. "I have to try and Hao, I think I know exactly how."

"How-"

Cutting the call Jun tossed his phone aside and quickly grabbed the box he had stashed below the tea table, opening it. He ran his fingers again through all the memories you had saved, a small smile forming on his face.

Jun had 10 days to win you back - that meant he had 10 chances to remind you of all the good days the two of you shared. 10 memories he could recreate, ones that you yourself had stored in this very box. 10 ways he could prove 'us'..... was truly worth it.

And just like that, Wen Junhui knew exactly how to make you fall in love with him all over again.

You stared at the photo hanging on your wall, arms crossed, eyes slightly damp.

You look so happy,....he looks so happy.

Just like he did when you agreed to give him 10 days to woo you.

Sighing you tore your eyes away and stared at the ground, blinking the tears away.

“Just 10 days," You whispered, voice shaking. "….. and all of this will be over.”

A/n - This fic is tbh very long and overwhelming so I thought its best to have it out in parts? I hope you enjoyed this part and stay tuned for the next too! Thoughts in comments and reblogs are very much appreciated my loves <3

490 notes · View notes

pineapple-downside-up-cake · 3 months ago

Text

Let's Not Make A Big Deal Valentine's Special!

PRICE when you are A Strong Independent Human Who Don't Need No Man.

You just, y'know...want one.

Price has Been Through It.

If there's one thing he learned from his first wife, it's that the big three are Important: birthday, anniversary, and valentine's. Doesn't matter if he's deployed, unconscious, or dead: priorities, right?

He has one day a year where he pre-orders gifts, chocolates, and flowers. It keeps him out of trouble. Or at least, it's supposed to - she's still an ex-wife, afterall.

You're confusing the fuck out of him because you changed the Rules. You haven't been dating long enough for the other two, but valentine's is a week away and for some unfathomable reason you're giving him a free pass.

"Don't you have to work late that day?" Yes, yes he does. "And don't you hate crowded places?" Also yes, but he didn't realize you'd been taking notes. "That's dumb. If you want to do something, just come over and we can fall asleep watching a movie. I've got lasagna in the freezer."

He doesn't know what to make of it. Is it a trap? He can still bring chocolate. Or a bottle of wine...

He shows up late on Friday. Later than he expected. He'd been desparately trying to find someplace open after work since he didn't place his order this year, but everyone is closed. He shows up sweaty palmed and empty handed, ready for his verbal lashing.

You don't even make it to the movie - he's so clearly out of sorts, you end up having to sit this hulking military captain down at your tiny dining table and have a heart-to-heart about, well. Heart day.

Price is flat out flummoxed when you finally get through to him that you don't give a shit, finally convince him that if you'd had Expectations, you would have said so.

Is this what a healthy relationship is supposed to feel like? There are weird little butterflies dancing in his stomach and he doesn't think it's the food. It feels good, but bizarre at the same time.

After dinner you sit on the couch and split a pint of ice cream and just...talk. About anything, everything, until you doze off on the couch in his arms, snoring like a little helicopter.

Price stays awake for a long time, reflecting on a long and fraught dating history, comparing it to what he feels now, what he experienced tonight.

No sex, or candy, or flowers...

Just reheated leftovers and freezerburnt icecream.

And yet somehow, it's the most romantic holiday he's ever had.

#valentines is overrated #john price x reader #price x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader

493 notes · View notes

w2mini · 3 months ago

Text

RED MEANS TAKEN DUMMY! atsumu x reader

-happy valentines 𓂃۶ৎ warnings: reader is reserved, swearings, black cat x golden retriever (I'm never getting tired of this trope for atsumu) fluff only

For Atsumu, he's always been drawn to you—the quiet, pretty muse from unfortunately another class who never seemed to fall for his popular charm. And what's worst is that you weren't even doing anything to catch his attention. It was just a random Tuesday when you were introduced as a new student in Inarizaki, then went on with your day as a normal student like everyone would—and that?

That drove him crazy.

It was probably your reserved nature that felt refreshing to him since he's used to having a crowd of admirers around him. You weren't trying to stand out, be loud—you just always seemed like you had your own little world to be content with.

And he desperately wants to be a part of your life. But let's be real—he's probably not the type to immediately accept his feelings about you because this is genuinely the first time he's falling for someone, so with some ups and downs, denial, and winning a war with his own feelings—yep, he wanted you BAD.

So little by little, he would hang out with you during breaks, keep you company, and slowly become a part of your inner circle—you grew fond of him in your own quiet way. So with Valentines coming up, Atsumu decides it would be the perfect time to confess his undying love for you.

But of course this is an Inarizaki centered story, and it's not one without chaos.

"Yo, have you guys seen the new post from the student council?" The volleyball club were currently in the gym practicing as usual every after school times. Akagi, who was simply scrolling at his phone during break ends up with an interesting post from their student council's social media page regarding the event tomorrow. "The color-coded shirts? still haven't decided what I'm gonna wear to be honest." Aran replied, approaching Akagi to look at his phone, checking what each color meant. To celebrate Valentines, the student council announces a color-coded Valentine's event wherein students wear shirts that indicate their relationship status: Red meant taken, White meant single, Pink means friend-zoned, Black meant heartbroken, etc. Atsumu, who was already plotting his confession, grinned to himself. White it is, because, obviously, he's saving himself for you. So could you just imagine on a Valentines day morning, he's all excited walking at the school, ready to show off in front of you, and sees you in the hallway—

... wearing a red top.

aka TAKEN.

his soul shatters at the sight.

I—what—When—WHO???? Osamu and Suna who was with him—seeing the devastated face on Atsumu bursts into laughter.

He turned to Osamu, aggressively whispering "WHEN THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN???”

"She's taken? tough luck Miya." Suna says in between giggles.

You on the other hand who was just simply talking to a friend—doesn’t recognize the chaos happening behind you for wearing a red top.

“You never told me you were in a relationship?” Your friend offhandedly asks, but they were also internally panicking because they know about Atsumu’s plan.

You tilted your head in confusion, “huh? but I dont?”

“what? it’s red though.” your friend points at your top.

“so? don’t people wear red for valentines?”

You friend’s expression drops.

“[name] you dumbass.”

—

Atsumu spent the whole day sulking, even during practice. He messed up the easiest receives, screwed up his sets, and almost hit Suna on the head with his serve.

that damn red top, he’s never been this furious over a color, and what’s worst is that you looked good with that top too!

How come he had already lost without starting?

And how come he never knew you were already in a relationship? You never gave hints or said anything about being in a relationship—

“If I were you, I would’ve confessed already rather than sulking like that.” easier said than done Aran.

“She was wearing red, RED!” Atsumu dramatically exclaims as he drowns on his own sorrows.

“What did red mean again?” Ginjima asks.

“Taken.” Suna replied bluntly, making Atsumu hiss at the word.

“Never stood a chance huh?” Osamu grinned mockingly.

“SHUT YER TRAP SAMU.”

Kita could only facepalm at the situation, but he’s rather amused since this is the first time he’s seen Atsumu like this, “You know Atsumu, have you ever thought that maybe she just wore the color and discarding the meaning?”

Atsumu’s ears perked up, then Ginjima suddenly had a lightbulb over his head, “Oh yeahhh, it could mean like that too, there were a bunch of guys wearing black for fun earlier despite not being in a relationship.”

“Maybe try asking her about it then?” Akagi suggested.

I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Actually scrap that, it would.

That is until knocking was heard on the doors of the gym.

The team looks over to the source of the sound then sees—

You… with a small box.

“Uhm, pardon me but can I call for Atsumu?” You asked, peeking over to the doors.

Atsumu immediately RAN and was suddenly infront of you, looking… nervous?

“Did ya’ uh, need anything?” he asks, his voice crackling a little.

Then, you hold out the gift to him. “For you.”

Atsumu froze.

“Huh…?”

“Thanks for always keeping me company,” you say softly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to approach.”

Atsumu finally finds his voice. “Wait—so yer not datin’ anyone?”

You blink. “No, why?”

His brain short circuited. He points at your top, “But—THAT’S RED.”

“So?”

That’s when he realizes.

You didn’t know shit about the color-coded event.

His entire face lights up, and lets out the most dramatic sigh of relief. “Wearing red means taken stupid.” He says, flicking your forehead.

It was your turn to get struck by realization now.

No wonder everyone kept asking if you were in a relationship, and no WONDER everyone was wearing different colors for valentines.

Oh you feel fucking stupid.

You then immediately took your phone out, opening an app then searching for your school’s official account page.

You face drops seeing the png file on the very first post that appeared, no wonder why your friend had asked that odd question.

“I—didn’t know…” you muttered, embarrassed about the whole misunderstanding.

Atsumu only chuckled in response, laughing at your misery. “Yer’ killin me ya know that? I though I lost my chance before I even tried.”

You perked up. “You were trying?”

“Obviously.” He grinned.

You smiled warmly, feeling funny about the situation. “Try harder then.”

Atsumu had the brightest grin on his face, he ruffled your hair then gently took the gift from your hands. “Oh I definitely will.”

“P-D-A ALERT” Osamu suddenly shouted from the gym, surprising you and pissing off Atsumu.

“MIND YER OWN BUSINESS!”

WOOOO KINDA SHORT IM SO SORRY GUYS but happy valentines!! and of course I had to celebrate it by writing my all time favorite character😻 hope you guys enjoyed HDJHFODK

💐 >> bouquets for those who don’t feel special enough on this special day <33

533 notes · View notes

quartztwst · 3 months ago

Text

Wedding in the Clouds! (TWST Fan-Event) (CLOSED)

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕💕 I finally finished this fan-event for my 3k followers celebration!

Summary of the event:

On one fine day, you recieve a wedding invitation from a mysterious someone named Dione. It says to be a wedding for Azul and QUARTZ?! Wait, don’t they hate eachoth- SUDDENLY, a bright light from the invitation blinds your eyes and you end up on a soft, fluffy cloud. Voices of other people groaning and waking up is heard too. It seems like other students from NRC were also transported here.. But why?

A light pink skinned lady grabs all of the students attention and announces that you all are wedding guests. She introduces herself as Dione, one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland. Dione’s attitude was very sweet yet it was very conscending like she was running some sort of workplace. Behind her was Quartz and Azul chained by vines from the cloud beneath everyone. They seemed to react accordingly as Quartz was shouting profanties and throwing a whole fit while Azul was trying to focus on the fact he was being embarrassed in front of a quarter of NRC but Quartz’s outburst was irritating him.

As they were taken away, Dione explained to everyone they were to forcibly help set the wedding up for the bride and groom with her bird minions. If anyone refuses, they will be thrown off from the clouds or forced into a prison made of vines. WIth a quick flick of her hand, everyone’s clothes were suddenly changed into wedding attire.

Once Dione left, the students started to split up and find a way to crash the wedding, but not for Quartz and Azul. The thing was…

THEY HAD A DAY OFF TODAY and who wants to spend it on a stupid wedding? They had plans!

Event Information:

There are 4 different operations going on at the same time to ruin the wedding because a lot of the students disagreed in which way to take this. You have an option to draw your OC in which ever operation!!

It looks like from the background that the place has no buildings but there are plenty made by Dione:

A building for the cake and food <- ran by geese

A place for the Bride to get ready in

A place for the Groom to get ready in

Dione’s place located on a cloud that is higher than the other clouds so she can watch over yall

A place where the decorations and necessities for the wedding are being delivered by doves, pelicans, storks <- they are also not weak, they dont play. they will fight back if disrupted)

and then the wedding atlar which is just the background it’s outside so its just the resting area

Quartz’s dress, Bride’s Tower, and delivery birds

Operation 1: Ruin the Wedding

Led by Idia. Objective is to ruin the wedding like destroying the cake, decorations, finding Dione’s weakness, ruining the whole set up, exploding shit idk

Description of the attire: Wedding outfits with a bit of technology accessories by Idia Shroud himself. (the leech twins have one ear bud in but i didn’t draw their ears in detail..) You can get creative with the tech accessories

Operation 2: Save the Bride

Led by my MC/Yuu and Grim (you can also add ur Yuus/Mcs in too!!). Objective is to sneak past the geese guards and save Quartz to stop the wedding.

Description of the attire: Wedding outfit is fine !! but you can get creative with it like “oh heh.. im the maid and uhhh quartz shat herself and i need to help her so let me in” or smth 😭😭😭

Operation 3: Do Nothing/Other

Basically you do nothing. Led by nobody lol. What’s your OC’s objective for doing nothing? Do they want to see the wedding? Do they not care enough because it might be over anyways? Is there no hope?

I didn’t draw anyone here bc it’ll be just wedding attire 😭😭

Operation 4: Steal the Groom

This is for all my Azul likers heh.

Since Azul and Quartz are being rushed to get ready, a lot of clothes are being thrown out and sent back in the boxes laying around so why not reuse them? Maybe you can use it to ruin the wedding and steal Azul’s heart awayy once they’re done dressing him up…..

Description of the Attire: Wedding Bride or Groom outfitss hehee

Rules:

NO weird outfits that sexualizes OCs

Use the tag #WedCloudEvent or tag me if you make a post of this event!!

Please be respectful to everyone’s OCs

You can also draw other TWST characters here if you want!!

Have fun!!

Here’s the background for your OCs!!

List of OCs/Characters:

Operation 1: Ruin the Wedding -

Idia Shroud

Floyd Leech

Jade Leech

Moch by @thatsadguymochi

Daphne by @pomevinelle

Yuya by @cheerleaderman

Akshara by @twistedtalestory

Alastor by @chaotic-snow

Yvonne by @juchioris

Kogane by @kogane-twst

Dimitrios by @twsted-void

Cupid by @nivvetsworld

Neuvins by @lapinhearts

Riddle (design by @lapinhearts)

Airinniz by @hanizmiyu

Kozakura Yuuka by @hanizmiyu

Nyx by @blackcat101

Viva by @evexe

Operation 2: Save the Bride -

My Yuu/MC

Grim

Silly by @sillybillymillyrilly

Silver (design by @0ann3 )

Yu (Yuri Takeba) by @0ann3

Loralyn by @chizramue

Mizuki by @sherryclover

Starr by @astral-pr0jecti0n

Xenon by @w0nd3rhoy

Yuubeni by @bunniehunn

Superstar! And Yuu By @imafrealinrainbow478484

Yukitaka by @yumaandyukitaka

Aki by @rinxleona

Rui by @rinxleona

Pluto by @teddyandmochi

Operation 3: Do Nothing/Other -

AJ by @karamatsuboy-aj

Oisín by @xen-blank

Mama Hua by @lafashionlsta

Yuuko by @silkkorchid

Soul by @twistedplayer16

Operation 4: Steal the Groom -

Rémy by @ranas-twisted-wonderland

Ayesha by @iluvmusicxoxo

Yuura by @a-z-rie-l

Alice by @sinjaangels

Djyuu by @djchik

ANYWAYS this is just an event I made out of my ass HELFP im sorry if theres a whole bunch of holes here 😭😭 and Idia and the Tweels outfits are SUPER SLOPPY so I can’t wait to see how everyone else makes their OCs’ outfits prettier also Quartz and Azul do not like each other here so be free to do anything lol

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕💕💕🎉🎉🎉🎉

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #my persona #persona #jade leech #floyd leech #octavinelle #twisted wonderland fan event #twst fan event #fan event #wedcloudevent #NOT QUARTZUL

433 notes · View notes

youleftmenochoicebut · 5 months ago

Text

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — james potter x reader.

SUMMARY. — the highlights of your relationship with james fleamont potter

PAIRING. — james potter x fem!reader

WARNINGS. — fuck around and find out; use of Y/N; english isn't my first language;

A/N. — so this is inspired by the masterpiece margaret by ldr!! also, first post, yay!!!

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first meeting; 6th year (1976)

"if you're gonna jump, i'd love to see you do a double flip." James' voice sounds out through the cold night air, and you can hear him chuckle as you turn around, eyebrow raised.

okay, you're totally surprised to see him here, way past the curfew, on the top floor of the astronomy tower while the wind whooshes rather lightly for the winter season. of course you know who he is, everyone at hogwarts knows him and his group of friends, the marauders. but, being a ravenclaw who doesn't stuck their nose in other people's business, you never had the pleasure of being a victim to one of their pranks.

"i'm not jumping." you reply after a moment, stepping away from the edge as you throw the muggle cigarette you'd been smoking to the floor, stomping it out. you reach your hand up, brushing your hair behind your ears, and for a while you two just stare at each other.

"everyone's already packing for the christmas break." he murmurs, adjusting the glasses sitting on his nose, a smirk playing on his lips and he strolls closer to you, leaning back against the railing. "you're going home, or not?"

your brows furrow, nose crinkling, as you eye him up and down suspiciously. you're pretty sure it's a bad omen that James Potter approached you just like that, out of the blue, but you decide to humor him anyway.

"no, i... i'm staying here." you answer his question, biting down on your lower lip, and you look away with a shrug. "don't you have a game tomorrow, Potter?"

"i do, Y/N. what, you gonna come?" James pushes his hands inside the pockets of his pajama pants, smiling at you, raising his eyebrow. you don't even try to ask how he knows your name, you probably don't want to know either way.

you shake your head and chuckle, the air escaping your mouth looking like smoke in the freezing weather. "quidditch isn't really my thing." you respond, and you chew on your words for a beat before adding. "catch the snitch for me, huh?"

he seems taken aback for a quick second, but lightens up soon enough, and nods eagerly. like a golden retriever, you think. with that thought, you take off, waving him goodbye as you swiftly disappear down the staircase.

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first date; 6th year (1977)

you stand in front of the only mirror in your dorm, most of your dormmates already out and about except for Sage, who's sitting on her bed and watching you closely as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

"i look ridiculous." you groan, tugging down the tiny skirt of your outfit, glancing back at Sage. the dress is from a muggle friend of yours, apparently very in fashion now as she stated in her letter, but you can't feel more out of your element. it's not that you don't like clothes like that, it's just that you almost never wear them.

however, you're getting ready for a date with the James Potter, and you want to look your best. oh, and it's Valentine's Day, so you want to somehow prove to everyone who'll see you that you're worthy of James.

"you look great, stop whining." Sage rolls her eyes, munching on her chocolate frog, and she scratches her cat behind his ear.

you sigh, nodding at your friend's aggressive approval, then grab your bag, quickly putting your wand into it, and you saunter over to Sage's bed. you kiss her forehead, chuckling when you hear her let out an ew.

you leave your dormitory, run down the stairs, then sigh again as you get out of the common room, bracing yourself at the challenge of getting to the end of the staircase. and so it takes you some time, time that you spend overthinking almost every interaction you had with James in the two months you have known each other.

when you finally arrive at your meeting spot, your hair's all messed up and tousled, your eyes bloodshot from the wind and lips dry from constantly licking them. instead of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop or the Three Broomsticks, James insisted on you two meeting here. in the Hogwarts grounds, near the Great Lake. usually, even during that time of the year, the grounds were full of students. but now, they're clear, except for a big red blanket on the snowy grass, with James sitting down there. there must be some spell casted around that area that keeps it warm, because James doesn't have his coat on. you approach him with a smile, dropping down next to him, and the heat hits you, making you loose your jacket soon.

for a moment, James just stares at you, mouth agape, his eyes shimmering with pure happiness. "you're beautiful." he breathes out as you nervously tug down your skirt, and a chuckle escapes your lips.

"thank you." your smile widens, and you look at the picnic basket he prepared, smelling the freshly baked cookies and the two bottles of juice. he notices your eyes wandering, his hand reaching out and grabbing a strand of your hair, untangling it gently.

"uh... i made the cookies myself." he murmurs, and when he meets your amused gaze, he shakes his head. "yeah, no i didn't. i asked the kitchen elves to make them. but they were more than happy to do it!"

you laugh heartily, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks at his touch, his hand dropping down and resting over your wrist.

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first fight; 6th year (1977)

exam season is really fucking with you this year. after last year's OWLs you really thought i'd be easier this year, but clearly not. you're running low on sleep, nourishment, and your patience. almost every waking moment you're spending in classes, doing your assignments or studying in the library with Lily and the other gryffindor girls with whom you've become quite close ever since you started dating James.

well, when it comes to James himself, you haven't seen him much lately. and when you do, it mostly goes one way with you doing both of your homework while James watches you with hearts in the place of pupils, and leaves kisses and touches all over your body.

it's 9.30pm on friday when you're making your way back to your common room after yet another study session in the library, being one of few students out in the hallways at this time. you turn round the corner, your body collapsing against someone else's, and you end up on the floor on your ass. a yelp escapes your mouth, and when you look up ready to shout at the idiot in your way, you realize it's your idiot.

"you look like hell, sweetheart." James smirks, glancing down at you as he leans in with outstretched hand, helping you up smoothly. you let out a huff, rolling your eyes, annoyed out of your goddamn mind, and you step away.

"wow, James, thank you. that's just what a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend after a shitty day." you murmur, wanting to just go past him, because you can feel your temper run short already. but of course, James being James, doesn't allow you to do so. he grasps your wrist as you try to pass him by, and you yank away the moment you feel his hand on yours. "sod off!" you hold your books closer to your chest, frowning momentarily.

"you've been ignoring me, Y/N." he says quietly, and it's probably the first time you hear him so serious and toned down. "i'm trying, i'm making effort, and you're acting like studying is the only thing that matters."

"because, right now, it is! it is to me!" you raise your voice, your hand clasping at the material of your shirt, and you shake your head. "i've been slacking off the whole spring because of you, and now i have all this shit to catch up. i don't have time for nonsense."

you don't even realize the blow that your words are to James, too sleep-deprived to notice the way his lips purse or how he almost seems to physically hurt at your statement.

"is that all you think we are? nonsense?" he whispers, ruffling his curls in an anxious gesture. "cause if that's the case, then i'll stop bothering you."

"no, James, you know that's not what i meant." you groan, shaking your head, and you step closer to him. "i'm sorry. i'm just so constantly tired and... sorry."

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first 'i love you'; summer of 1977

the sun is hitting your body in all the right angles, a cigarette dangling between your lips, as you lay on your back, on the jetty while the boys play in the water. you, Remus, and Peter have spend the past week at the Potter manor with James and Sirius, and James' parents. it's mid july, summer in all its glory, and you try to live it to the fullest.

you squeal and open your eyes the moment you feel drops of water fall all over you, and you're met with James' athletic figure right in front of you. he kneels down, face to face with you, quickly taking the cigarette from you and taking a drag. rolling your eyes, you sit up, pushing his shoulder playfully. you watch the rest of the marauders with a small smile on your face, Peter standing in the most shallow point of the lake and sipping on some fire whiskey, Sirius and Remus making out with only their heads visible out of the water. James rests his chin on your shoulder, one arm wrapping around your waist and tugging you closer against his chest, and you glance up at him through half-lidded eyes, observing the way he blows out the smoke.

"i love you." you whisper suddenly, as if the thought just struck you, your hand raising to push his glasses up his nose, and you lean in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"yeah?" he replies, his voice having that cocky edge to it, but you can see his heart truly explode, eyes full of love. "i love you, sweetheart."

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ engagement; fall of 1978

after a whole day of unpacking boxes and moving (using magic) furniture around, both you and James are truly exhausted. you’ve just moved into your first house together, having lived with James’ parents for the summer, and despite needing some renovations you are able to live in it without a problem.

as James takes a break on the couch, probably reading this month’s Quidditch Times, you’re trying to cook something for dinner. you’ve decided you don’t want to have a house elf, neither yours or James’ family ever had one, and you two aren’t changing that. but, that means you have to learn how to cook. which actually turns out to be quite the challenge.

two burnt lasagna-lookalikes in, you give up, your face red and eyes filled with frustrated tears. casting a quick cleaning spell, you leave the kitchen and head to the living room, expecting to see James there. but the space is empty.

„Jamie?” you shout out, looking around with a frown gracing your soft features, and after a moment of listening in, you hear him cursing somewhere outside.

and so, with your hands on your hips, already sure he’d just fucked something up, you make your way outside to your garden, through the living room backdoor. you’re immediately taken aback when you see daisy petals just laying around on the grass and it takes you a second to realize it’s a path. growing more and more suspicious you follow it, and it leads you to the small pond in the further corner of the backyard. the rocks around the pond are covered with lit up candles, and James is on one knee next to the wooden bench.

„hi, sweetheart.” he murmurs with a smile, holding a small velvet box in his hand, and as you come closer, you can see the tears already prickling in the corners of his eyes. he opens the box swiftly and the ring nestled inside must be the most beautiful rock you have ever seen. „i… i had a whole speech prepared, you know. about- well, you. us. but right now, looking at you, i cannot remember shit of what i wanted to say. the only thing i do know, and i always will, is that i want to look at you for the rest of my life. i want to see you smile, i want to make you laugh, i want to wipe your tears away. every single day. so, Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

you drop to your knees almost instantly, a sob escaping you as you’re at eye lever with him, and you just nod. you nod, over and over, letting your tears run down your cheeks, knowing that if you speak you’ll break down completely. James knows that too, and he silently slips the ring onto your waiting finger, bringing your hand to his lips and planting a soft kiss on each finger.

„oh, and before you say anything, i call dibs on the wedding date.” he whispers and you chuckle, pushing your lips against his before responding.

„yeah? so what’s the date?” you tilt your head, just staring at him with the stupidest smile on your face, with tear stained cheeks. you two look like idiots, kneeling in the dewed grass, but honestly you don’t care.

„december 18th.” James replies, clearly proud of himself for the mere idea, and his hands cup your face, thumbs brushing the tears away. „the day we met.”

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ pregnancy; winter of 1980

you’re laying on your shared bed, fingers tapping against the huge curvature of your stomach, feeling your baby kick furiously inside you. you’re waiting for James to come home from work, as you’re already on bed rest, only two weeks away from your due date (which is january 31st)

you’ve been bored out of your fucking mind for the last few days, James putting in more hours at work before he has to take paternity leave when the baby comes, and everything in the house being all done and finished. everything babyproofed, nursery set up and ready, every single thing you could own for a newborn, you have. the only thing that’s left for you is resting and looking pretty, as James had said one evening.

your neck practically snaps from how fast you turn your head the moment you hear James apparate outside your house. you groan, quickly moving your hand to massage the back of your neck, and in just a few minutes James is standing in the doorway to your bedroom, a tired but oh so happy smile on his face.

„hi there, mama.” he mutters softly, dropping his suitcase and his wand onto the desk, getting onto the bed right away. he reaches out, tugging your shirt up to expose your big baby bump that’s covered with stretch marks, and leans in, placing kisses all over your belly. „and hi there, lad or gal. i hope you’ve been good to your mom today. daddy had a long day, you know.”

you smile, running your fingers through James’ curls as he rests his chin on your stomach, hands rubbing at your skin there, eyes set on your protruding belly button. you love when he tells you about his day in that way, talking to the baby about it, a habit you both created somewhere in your fifth month of the pregnancy, when you started showing more and more clearly.

„yeah? anything interesting happen today?” you ask quietly, gently playing with his hair, your tired gaze set on his face at all times.

„i won a bet with Sirius, which one of us would catch the most death eaters in an outing.” he hums after a beat, tapping his finger against your stomach, and both of you chuckle when the baby kicks so hard you can see its tiny foot stretch your skin. „yeah, your uncle Padfoot lost a bet. loser. daddy’s the best at what he’s doing, baby Potter.”

„merlin, you’re teaching our baby unhealthy rivalization and it’s not even born yet.” you roll your eyes, tugging at the ends of his hair teasingly, while he bats his eyelashes up at you.

„after all, they’re a Potter.” he murmurs lovingly, looking at your round and puffy from all the baby weight face as if he’s seen an angel, and he swears to himself that he’s falling in love with you over and over again every time he looks at you. „it’s in their genes, sweetheart.”

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter #marauders #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #the marauders #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james fleamont potter

872 notes · View notes

bittergoldeneyes · 3 months ago

Text

-Life’s Sweetness-

Asaba Harumasa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Just fluff. A Valentines at the office. (Lol, and I’m 2 days, almost 3, late to the party)

Word Count: 3.5K

Valentine’s Day, a day where people showed their affections for others through chocolates, flowers, or other obnoxious gifts. It was a holiday to poach money from people to persuade them if they didn’t somehow buy a gift for their lovers, their significant other didn’t care as much. A random act of kindness was much sweeter than any chocolate given on Valentine’s Day due to tradition or obligation.

But… you weren’t completely immune to falling into the scheme of buying gifts for the people you care for. Something small, but meaningful. Eacpsilly for a certain ebony haired man that just so happened to be your deskmate and partner.

Your sneakers made barely any noise as you stepped lightly through the H.S.O. Headquarters. A small fabric bag full of gifts slung on your shoulder and applying pressure to the muscles of your back from how heavy it was. Stepping around a corner, you noticed most of the desks in the office were already full of gifts already. Numerous bundles of flowers, plushies, and sugary sweets.

A small smile etched across your lips, and you walked into the quiet office before coming around to observe your desk. The white surface was bare, not a single gift or sickly sweet in sight. It shouldn’t affect you much, you were probably the most unpopular out of Section 6. Many people, especially Harumasa’s fans, disliked the idea of you being a part of Section 6. It was as if the public viewed you as an average among elites. You were still a rookie after all, but you always seemed to work best with Harumasa, which is why you were paired as partners a little while after your transfer.

Ignoring the bareness of your desk, you stepped over to Harumasa’s desk, which was -as you had predicted- the fullest of any other members. His fans were… what we like to called “unhinged.” There were numerous letters, some of which you could see had numbers in them, some with pictures, and even some with paragraphs upon paragraphs, likely pouring their heart out in hopes to ignite some parasocial relationship with him that was never going to happen. Hell, there were even plushies and fan drawings of him in some of this pile!

With a shake of your head, you dig around in your fabric bag, finally finding the bottle you were searching for. You placed a bitter gourd juice on his desk and a small bar of 99% cocoa dark chocolate. It was a far shot getting a chocolate bar, but you only hoped he would at least try it, seeing as it was one of the most bitter chocolates out there. A warmth blossomed on your cheeks seeing your gift differing so dramatically from others, surely he’d get suspicious. He was observant like that after all.

You couldn’t spend much time reminiscing, or else you would take back your gifts out of utter embarrassment and fear of getting found out. Before anyone else arrived, you went around to the other members desks, placing personalized gifts on their desks, pausing at Yanagi’s which was just as similar as yours, almost completely empty save for a few cards or sweets that splotched the space of her desk.

Once Yanagi arrived, you had already started on everyone’s coffee. A cup already made specifically for her ready with her name written prettily on the thick plastic holder with sharpie.

“Oh, (Y/N). Good morning.” She gives you a small smile, a stack of papers and a folder neatly pressed against her chest in her arms. “You’re here early?”

“Oh, good morning, Yanagi. I decided to come early to make everyone’s coffee. Thought it would be a nice start to the day.” Your expression remained cool and neutral, not giving away that you had come early to give everyone gifts. You handed her the coffee, watching her take a satisfied sip before sighing in bliss.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” She says and places a gloved hand over your shoulder as a kind gesture of appreciation. Her glasses gleaming off the light of the lights above.

The other members of Section 6 filed in shortly after. Miyabi was practically drooling over the melon left on her desk, her eyes ignoring anything other than the voluptuous fruit. She wasted no time cutting into the juicy sphere and placing a slice into her watering mouth. Her ears shuddered in happiness, her eyes closing in bliss. Soukaku just devoured any snacks that sat on her desk, but especially enjoying the spicy snacks you had left her.

And last but not least, fashionably late as always, Asaba Harumasa. His slender frame walked through the entrance, his hands already crossed behind his head with a small yawn already leaving his mouth. Drowsiness blinked from his eyes as the glimmering gold of his eyes focused on the mountain of gifts and accessories laid practically covering his desk space.

“Oh? What’s all the fuss about? You shouldn’t have guys~” His lips tugged into a teasing grin, his frame shadowing behind you before he came to investigate the objects occupying his space. “Didn’t know I was so popular. It’s about ten or twenty gifts more than I got last year.”

Was he… seriously bragging right now?

“Well, ‘Mr. Popular’ your coffee is in the pot over there. Still warm.” You interject, pointing your finger over to the coffee machine, pure black coffee brewed to perfection from an intelligent machine sitting in the pot simmering.

“Awe~ just for me? I knew you liked me somewhere deep down!” His hands clasped together dramatically, bringing them to press against one of his cheeks while his mouth upturned into a wide appreciative smile. “You don’t seem as popular. Want some of my gifts? I’m not going to touch most of this just from a quick glance.”

“I want it!” Soukaku raised her hand wildly, sitting up from her desk.

“Hey! I was offering them to (Y/N) first!” Harumasa argued back, pouting as you beckoned Soukaku over without a seconds hesitation. “You know, now I’m starting to think you actually hate me…”

“Oh don’t be dramatic, Harumasa.” You scold lightly, rolling your eyes at his dramatics as you let Soukaku pick and choose what she wanted from Harumasa’s mountain of sweets and snacks. “I would much rather Soukaku enjoy them than me. I can always buy my own valentines stuff. I’ve done it before.”

Harumasa was oddly quiet after your comment, but you didn’t think too much about it.

Once Soukaku went back to her desk with a newfound spark of happiness with her newly acquired food, you sat back down with a sigh before looking at your thick stack of paperwork. Your fingers held your favorite pen loosely, wrist fluidly gliding over the wooden desk as you signed off and detailed your boring reports.

Every now and then, you would glance over at Harumasa. Of course, he wasn’t doing any paperwork whatsoever, and the due dates had long since past. His eyes were instead skimming through some of the obnoxious valentines gifts hoarding his space. A plethora of colorful expressions crossed his face, ranging from horror, disgust, and light hearted smiles. There was even one point he practically slammed a card closed with a red blush on his cheeks, obviously something he didn’t want to have seen or read.

After some time passed, Harumasa was shredding almost every card or picture he’d gotten. His fans really were unhinged. The only few he kept were either from kids or genuine words of appreciation and admiration from fans. Sugary sweet candies and chocolates were tossed in the trash, plushies given to Soukaku or if there was one of himself, offered to you with a flirtatiously teasing wink and a mischievous smile.

It was almost as if he had saved your gift especially for last. His gloved hands picked up the bitter chocolate you’d gotten him, inspecting it curiously before flipping it to the back to read more of the nutrition facts and ingredients. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to open the bar and break off a small piece of from the corner. The piece disappeared behind his soft plush pink lips, jaw moving slowly, savoring the bitter richness of the chocolate. A second piece was then broken off and slotted between his lips once more, his eyes closing in concentration.

And the ever clever mind of Asaba Harumasa was just that, clever.

He never really opened up much about himself, especially to the press or any fans or social media posts. He kept his personal life locked behind iron bars only few had the privilege of glimpsing inside. Section 6 was one of those privileged few, as well as the siblings that ran Random Play. It narrowed down his suspicions on who sent these gifts.

The letter gave you away.

‘May the bitter tastes and flavors make life feel sweeter. Your life deserves the sweetest things.’

How cheesy. Only you would think of something that cheesy and heartfelt to write in a card accompanied by gifts he would enjoy. The letter was signed by a straight line, precise and strict, almost as if you were drawing a line you didn’t dare want to cross no matter how much you or him edged it.

Harumasa didn’t acknowledge you for the gifts you’d gotten him, much more interested to see what you would do next. Would you admit you were the one who placed them there in the wee hours of dawn? Would you remain anonymous, treating him the same as always, but locking your heart tightly away in fears of having him slip through your fingers too soon as he eventually would.

The next day came similarly to the last. Gifts appeared on the desks of Section 6, all except for yours. Yanagi got an expensive bottle of her favorite hair product and a new sleeping mask for small breaks in the office. Miyabi got a multitude of new brushes for her woven scrolls and another melon, this time bigger and flavored a bit differently. Soukaku got some new art supplies for her doodles in the office and some stickers.

Lastly, Harumasa got a new choker, an ink stamp of his signature (ahem, for his lazy nature to help with paperwork), and an expensive leather archery glove, much better than his current one that looked worn and tattered at the edges. The choker was a smooth and crisp leather, narrowed slightly where his Adam’s apple would press flush against the material. A yellow gem sparkled under the light, shimmering a similar shade to his smoldering golden eyes.

“Oh, that looks nice, Asaba.” Yanagi comments, papers hugged to her chest per usual as she adjusted her glasses and looked over the gifts he’d gotten. “Someone clearly admires you strongly.”

“It seems that way.” Harumasa comments, looking over the gifts with a strangely conflicted yet heartfelt expression. His deft fingers toyed with the choker in his hands, running a smooth thumb over the expanse of the light leather inked black. “Did you get some too, Tsukishiro?”

“I did.” She answers swiftly. “Everyone’s gotten very unique gifts these past two days. I suspect it’s someone from the agency. They’re all very carefully selected for each of us.” Her glasses shine off the light as her dark pink eyes shifted to your empty desk. “The only one who hasn’t gotten one of these gifts is (Y/N). She has been arriving early these past few days.”

Harumasa shifted his gaze to your desk, clean and empty albeit a neatly stacked pile of papers and a picture sat diagonally to your computer of you, him, and the rest of Section 6. Your chair sat vacant, as it had for hours as you helped out a different section with their reports and management of files.

A frown etched onto his pale pink lips, dark ebony brows furrowing as he thought to himself. Now that he had confirmed to himself that it was you giving him and everyone else these personal gifts, he needed to get you something right? His conscious (and heart) wouldn’t let your kindness go unpaid. After all, the gifts you got weren’t cheap by any means.

You were too kind for your own good sometimes. Always taking care of his gruesome paperwork when he was on sick leave or just too tired or lazy to do it. Making his coffee in the morning along with any other member that hadn’t been there at the office yet. Giving away any of your food or medical supplies to Soukaku or him in hollows when you yourself needed those things too. And even now, helping another section get out of whatever mess they’ve caused themselves with their files.

The day before valentines was no different than the last two, gifts once more on everyone’s desks. Except there was one thing different. There were flowers on your desk. A small vase full of tulips, roses, carnations, and hydrangeas. It was something you weren’t expecting at all, but it wasn’t something unpleasant you didn’t welcome. The card attached to the thin transparent plastic piece read ‘Thanks for helping Section 4, I owe you one. Let me know what you want ;).’ The note had the second in command of Section 4’s phone number signed with a winking face and his name on it, very clearly implying he had taken an interest in courting you somehow.

Your cheeks blossomed with warmth after reading the small letter card attached to the bouquet. It was at this time, Harumasa walked in, earlier than normal he might add. His eyes were immediately drawn to the decently sized object obscuring your desk. Naturally, his sharp golden gaze didn’t miss the tint of pink coloring your cheeks, a foreign feeling twisting in his gut.

“Oh? Who’s this from? You got a secret admirer or somethin’?” Harumasa inquires, a faux smile on his face as he leaned over you to snatch up the card from the thin plastic stick. Despite your protest, he turned himself around from you to keep your arms at bay from snatching it back before he finished investigating. “The guy from Section 4? Heh, how cute, he even left you his number. Such a gentleman!”

His tone was bitter, almost as bitter as the medicine he pocketed in his mouth on a regular basis. The expression he was making didn’t match the intensity his eyes shown. A teasing grin pulled taut over his mouth, but his brows creased and twitching ever so slightly, golden irises having a darker glint in them than their normal mischievous shine. It didn’t help his stomach was knotting up more and more and his heart was beating firmer against his ribcage.

“Don’t be mean, Harumasa!” You finally pulled the card out of his strong gloved hands and fitted the card back between the thin flimsy plastic in the vase of flowers. “I don’t need him to owe me anything. I was just doing my job. I am appreciative of the gesture.”

“In that case, want me to walk down and tell him you won’t be calling him then? I’d be more than happy to do that for my wonderfully kind partner!” His attitude perked up, gloved hands coming to rub together evilly, eager to shoot down a man’s flirtatious gesture towards you. He did have a knack for pissing people off.

“That… won’t be necessary, thank you.” You replied wearily, confused by his sudden change in behavior. “Oh!” Your eyes flickered to his throat, a new choker adorning his slender neck. The yellow gem gleamed in the light, brightening up his already pale skin and accentuating the features of his neck. “That new choker looks really good on you, Harumasa.”

“You think so?” The way he smiles makes you regret even saying anything. He raises his right hand, his new archers glove wrapped snuggly around. His fingers trailed suggestively down his Adam’s apple, down to flick the small gem before trailing his fingers down to the edge of his buttoned shirt. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his pretty fingers, and he seemed to know that. “It does doesn’t it? An admirer of mine got it for me~ I’m so lucky~”

“That you are, Harumasa.” Your smile faltered slightly, your cheeks flushing as you finally tore your gaze away from his neck and half exposed clavicle “it’s nice to be admired from time to time.” Your fingers reached out to gently run the pads of your fingers over the petals of some of the roses that sat in a small corner of your desk. “Lets you know that someone cares enough to show it to you through small acts of service. Or words of praise and appreciation. Or even gifts. Though I much prefer something like that on a random non-special day than a holiday or occasion.”

Harumasa listened to your words intently, liquid gold eyes watching your fingers tenderly touch the flowers another man had gotten you. The first gift you’d gotten for the upcoming Valentine’s day. His cheeks puffed into a pout, strong yet thin arms coming to cross over his tone chest.

When Valentine’s Day officially arrived, Harumasa came into the office on time, frankly a little early. An incredibly large and obnoxious bouquet of flowers in tow as he sat it on your desk loudly, startling you out of your focused daze of paperwork. It startled the other members of Secruon 6 too, especially Harumasa arriving early! The flowers took up practically the entire space in front of your desk! You didn’t even believe they made bouquets that big!

“H-Harumasa what is this?” You ask bewildered, eyeing all the pretty flowers perfectly arranged to accentuate all the species of flora in their own aspects. Roses were the most common among them, varying in color and size. “I-it’s so big!”

“Well, I couldn’t just let someone show me up in getting my partner a gift can I?” He replies proudly, triumphantly picking up the bouquet of flowers you received yesterday. “There’s no need for these anymore right? I’ll help you clear them out!”

Without giving you any time to protest he dropped the other flowers into the garbage can, a sly and victorious smile plastered over his face. It was then you noticed a small red ribbon clipped to his inky bangs, sparkly with a little cat pendant in the middle. His hands placed on his hips proudly, holding his nose high.

“Besides! Your best gift is right in front of you.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest, slender digits splaying over the expanse of his chest. “Having me as your ever so trustworthy, hardworking, dashing partner!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden change in behavior. He was acting like a child, exaggerating himself for your praise and favor. “H-Hey! I’m trying to be serious here!”

You adored the way a gentle pink dusted his pale cheeks, his arms instead coming to cross over his chest with his lips puckered in a kiddish pout. His gaze was averted, ebony locks slightly obscuring the visage of his golden eyes. A warm hand came into contact with the exposed flesh of his arm, making him jump, but soon relax once he realized that warmth was coming from you and your tender touch.

“Harumasa.” You say his name gently, sweetly, almost as if you were addressing him as your lover. You squeezed against his forearm lightly, a genuine and incredibly warm smile painting over your lips. “Thank you. I’m very lucky, to have a partner like you. I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Harumasa’s eyes widened, face exploding in blossoms of red that rivaled the roses on your desk. He pulled away from your touch quickly, coughing lightly before covering his mouth with a gloved hand, his other hand coming up to put some distance between the two of you.

“Ahem! Uh, it’s hot in here isn’t it? I’m going to grab some fresh air for maybe an hour or so, maybe I won’t even come back now that I think about it.” He turned on his heel, footsteps quick as he approached the entrance. His ears peeked out from beneath his dark hair, flushed just as red if not redder than his face. “Anyways! You guys got this without me, right? See ya!”

And just like that, Harumasa was gone. The office was quiet, everyone having witnessed the exchange between the two of you due to his boisterous entrance. Yanagi didn’t even try to stop him when he decided he was going to leave. You couldn’t help but think about what an odd, yet wonderful devoted companion he was. You truly were lucky to have him.

Your gaze suddenly caught the sight of a card nestled between some of the stems of the flowers, small and barely noticeable. Carefully extracting the card, you flipped it open carefully, Harumasa’s surprisingly neat and beautiful penmanship decorating the white paper. Your eyes widened slightly, a blush dusting over your cheeks before they closed with a shake of your head. You pocketed the card, a reminder to yourself to thank him. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach as you replayed the words written on the paper to yourself again.

‘Life is already sweet enough with you by my side. -Harumasa, your ever devoted partner ;3

“Done reading? Why don’t you take a break! Relax~ I’ll still be here when you come back.”

#harumasa x reader #asaba harumasa x reader #asaba harumasa #zzz harumasa #zenless zone zero harumasa #harumasa x you #zzz asaba #asaba x reader #zenless zone zero #section 6

306 notes · View notes

the-oblivious-writer · 3 months ago

Text

Let the Light In |9|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Nine: Struck by Cupid's Knife

Summary: After working up the courage, Tara asks you to spend Cupid’s birthday with her, but neither of you could have predicted the results.

Warning(s): Swearing (I think), arguing, Tara wearing The Skirt™️, innuendos, miscommunication/shit communication and mentions of masochism.

Notes: Reader’s a thirsty son of a bitch.

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

You're sprawled on Tara's couch, one hand absently scratching behind Dookie's ears while the other reaches for your water. The cat purrs contentedly in your lap, a rare sight according to literally everyone who's ever met the notoriously selective feline. On screen, Leatherface is doing what Leatherface does best – terrorizing unsuspecting teenagers with questionable decision-making skills.

"You know," you muse, "for someone who claims to hate slashers, you sure own a lot of them."

Tara throws chips at your head. It misses spectacularly and lands on Dookie, who gives her the most withering look a cat can muster. "I never said I hate slashers. I said modern slashers lack the psychological complexity of—"

"—of 'Prom Night,' yes, we've all heard the dissertation," you interrupt, earning yourself another chip projectile. This one actually hits its mark. "Which, by the way, is absolutely not better than 'Sleepaway Camp.'"

"Oh my god, are you seriously starting this again?" Tara pauses the movie, turning to face you fully. "Angela Baker is iconic, sure, but—"

"But nothing! The psychological implications alone—"

"The psychological implications of a movie that ends with—"

You both start talking over each other, your voices rising with practiced familiarity of an argument you've had dozens of times before. Dookie lifts his head to watch the verbal tennis match, tail twitching with mild interest.

"Okay, okay," Tara finally concedes, though her tone suggests this is far from over. "We can agree to disagree. For now. But only because I'm starving and we still haven't decided on dinner."

"Indian?" you suggest innocently, already knowing the response you'll get.

Her eyes narrow. "You know damn well what happened last time."

"You mean when you insisted you could handle the spice level and then spent three hours complaining about heartburn?"

"I did not complain for three hours."

"You literally texted me at 3 AM to tell me your esophagus was staging a coup."

She throws her hands up in exasperation. "Fine! What's your brilliant suggestion then?"

You pretend to think about it, even though you both know exactly where this is heading. "Well, there's this place I know. Makes great burgers, killer onion rings, milkshakes that'll change your life…"

"You mean the same place we always go?"

"If it ain't broke, princess."

The nickname slips out before you can catch it, an old habit you can't seem to shake. Tara's expression does something complicated – a mix of annoyance, fondness, and something else you're not quite ready to analyze.

"Speaking of things that aren't broken," she starts, then stops, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "There's this Valentine's party next week…"

You focus very intently on Dookie's fur, suddenly finding the pattern fascinating. "Oh yeah? Sounds fun."

"Yeah, it's at Chad's place. You could… I mean, if you wanted…" She trails off, then quickly adds, "But you probably have plans."

"Actually," you say, still not looking up, "I was just gonna stay in. The new season of 'Yellowjackets' dropped and—"

"Oh." There's something in her voice that makes you finally look up. "That… that sounds good too."

A moment passes, filled only by the sound of Dookie's purring and the paused image of Leatherface on the TV.

"You could join," you offer, the words tumbling out before you can overthink them. "If you wanted. Instead of the party."

Tara's face brightens for a split second before she schools it into careful neutrality. "What happened to your sacred solo binge-watching ritual?"

"Well, Dookie's already broken that rule," you gesture to the cat who's now fully asleep in your lap. "Besides, someone needs to be there to judge my commentary."

"Your commentary definitely needs supervision," she agrees, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "But what about Chad's party? You sure you don't want to…" she waves her hand vaguely.

You raise an eyebrow. "Want to what?"

"Nothing," she says quickly. "Just… you know. Meet people. Or whatever."

"Careful, Carpenter. That almost sounded like jealousy."

"You wish," she scoffs, but there's a faint blush creeping up her neck. "I just don't want you blaming me when you miss out on finding your soulmate at a frat party."

"Right, because nothing says true love like keg stands and questionable punch."

She throws more chips at you, but she's smiling now. "Shut up and watch the movie, dork."

You press play, and Leatherface resumes his rampage. But you can't help noticing how Tara seems more relaxed now, how she's shifted slightly closer on the couch. Dookie stretches in your lap, completely unbothered by the chainsaw sounds from the TV, and you think maybe this is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Even if Tara is completely wrong about "Prom Night.

—

Valentine's Day arrives with all the subtlety of a horror movie jump scare. You're pacing your apartment, pretending you haven't spent the last hour deciding what to wear for what's supposedly just another movie night. Dookie, who somehow managed to sneak into your place during Tara's last visit and never left, watches you with judgmental eyes from his perch on your bookshelf.

"Don't give me that look," you mutter, adjusting your shirt for the hundredth time. "This is completely normal behavior."

Dookie blinks slowly, unconvinced.

Your phone buzzes with a text, and you definitely don't lunge for it like a teenager waiting for their crush to call.

Tara (6:45 PM): omw Tara (6:45 PM): with snacks Tara (6:46 PM): and NO you cannot veto my candy choices this time

You smile despite yourself, typing back a quick response.

Dork (6:46 PM): If you brought those weird swedish fish again, we're going to have words

When the knock finally comes, you open the door to find Tara wearing a skirt that makes your brain short-circuit. It's not even particularly revealing – just a simple black pleated number that hits just above her knees – but something about the way it moves when she walks past you makes your mouth go dry.

"Earth to Y/N," Tara waves a hand in front of your face. "You gonna let me in or just stand there having a stroke?"

You snap out of it, closing the door perhaps a bit too quickly. "Sorry, just… wondering if I should be concerned about what's in that suspiciously large grocery bag."

"Liar," she smirks, dropping said bag on your coffee table. "But I'll let it slide because I'm feeling generous."

Meanwhile, in a group chat you're blissfully unaware of:

CORE 4 & CO.

Mindy: TARA CARPENTER Mindy: YOU DID NOT JUST LEAVE THE HOUSE IN THAT SKIRT Mindy: TO GO WATCH TV Mindy: WITH YOUR “NEMESIS”

Sammy: Let her live, Mindy

Chad: anyone else find it sus that they're both skipping the party? 👀

Mindy: "skipping the party to watch yellowjackets" sure jan

Tara: i can see these messages you know

Mindy: EXACTLY Mindy: WE KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING

Chad: yeah wearing The Skirt™️

Tara: it's just a skirt omg Tara: and don't you all have better things to do??

Mindy: than watch you attempt to seduce your nemesis? Mindy: absolutely not

Sammy: I'm turning off notifications Sammy: have fun sis Sammy: and remember to text me if you end up staying the night

Tara: SAM

Back in your apartment, you're trying very hard to focus on setting up the TV and not on how Tara's legs look when she's curled up on your couch. It's just a skirt. You've seen skirts before. This should not be affecting you like this.

"You know," Tara's voice breaks through your internal crisis, "for someone who was so excited about this show, you're spending a lot of time staring at everything but the screen."

"I'm not—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off with a knowing look.

"The remote's upside down."

You look down. The remote is, indeed, upside down in your hands. "I'm trying a new technique," you deadpan, refusing to acknowledge the heat creeping up your neck.

"Uh-huh." She shifts on the couch, the movement causing her skirt to—nope, you're not looking. You're absolutely not looking. "You know, we could still go to Chad's party if you're having second thoughts."

There's something in her tone – a careful casualness that doesn't quite mask the uncertainty underneath. You finally look at her properly, taking in the way she's trying to appear nonchalant while picking at a loose thread on your couch cushion.

"And miss the chance to prove how superior 'Sleepaway Camp' is to your precious 'Prom Night'? Not a chance, Carpenter."

The relief that flashes across her face is brief but unmistakable. "Oh my god, you're still on that? You know what, just for that, I'm eating all the good candy."

"Bold of you to assume any of your candy choices qualify as 'good.'"

She throws a Swedish Fish at your head. You catch it with your mouth, surprising both of you.

"…Okay, that was actually impressive," she admits.

"I have hidden depths," you say solemnly, finally settling onto the couch beside her. "Now shut up and watch the show. I have theories about Lottie that will blow your mind."

As the opening credits roll, you're hyper-aware of every inch of space between you, of how her skirt brushes against your leg when she reaches for the snacks, of how this feels simultaneously like nothing and everything has changed.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket – probably Henry asking how your "not-date" is going – but you ignore it. Right now, all that matters is this moment: Tara's commentary about the show's color grading, the way she unconsciously leans into you during the tenser scenes, and how maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you both want to be.

The thing about watching TV with Tara Carpenter is that she can't sit still to save her life. She's constantly shifting, readjusting, finding new ways to accidentally-but-maybe-not-accidentally end up closer to you. It's maddening in the best possible way.

"That's not how decomposition works," she critiques, reaching across you for the popcorn. Her skirt rides up slightly with the movement, and you suddenly find the ceiling fascinating. "The timeline is completely unrealistic."

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was sitting next to a forensics expert," you quip, trying to ignore how she hasn't fully moved back to her original position. "Please, enlighten us with your extensive knowledge of body disposal."

She turns to face you, and you immediately regret your life choices because now she's even closer, her eyes sparkling with that dangerous mix of challenge and amusement that always spells trouble.

"Well, considering the ambient temperature and soil composition—"

"Is this the part where I should be concerned about your search history?"

"Please," she scoffs, but there's a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Like yours is any better, Miss 'I-need-to-research-medieval-torture-devices-for-academic-purposes.'"

"That was one time!"

"The FBI agent watching your browser history probably needs therapy."

You're about to retort when she shifts again, and suddenly her leg is pressed against yours. All coherent thoughts evacuate your brain without so much as a goodbye note.

"You okay there?" she asks, and there's something in her tone that suggests she knows exactly what she's doing. "You seem a little… distracted."

Two can play at this game.

"Just thinking about proper body disposal techniques," you say innocently, stretching your arm across the back of the couch. Not quite around her shoulders, but the implication is there. "You know, for academic purposes."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is that your way of threatening to murder me? Because I've got to say, your technique needs work."

"If I was going to murder you, Carpenter, you'd never see it coming."

"Promises, promises."

The air between you crackles with something that definitely isn't just friendly banter anymore. On screen, someone is probably being dramatically eviscerated, but you couldn't care less because Tara is looking at you with that half-smile that makes your stomach do Olympic-level gymnastics.

Your phone buzzes again, breaking the moment. This time, it's a series of texts from Henry:

Henry (8:15 PM): so how's the not-date going?? Henry (8:15 PM): has anyone been murdered yet Henry (8:16 PM): either literally or metaphorically Henry (8:16 PM): also tony says hi and wants to know if you've kissed her yet

"Something important?" Tara asks, and you quickly lock your phone before she can see the messages.

"Just Henry being Henry," you say, silently plotting your best friend's demise. "Probably asking if we've murdered each other yet."

"Night's still young," she shrugs, but she's still got that look in her eyes that makes you want to either kiss her or start an argument about horror movie tropes. Possibly both.

"Speaking of murder," you say instead, because you're a master of deflection, "want to hear my theory about why 'Sleepaway Camp' is actually a groundbreaking commentary on—"

She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. "Oh my god, you're actually the worst."

"That's not what you said when I brought you soup when you caught the flu."

"That was before I knew you'd use it as ammunition in your endless crusade against good taste in movies."

"Bold words from someone wearing a skirt that's clearly meant to be a distraction from your terrible opinions."

The words are out before your brain can stop them. Tara goes very still, and for a moment you think you've miscalculated spectacularly. But then she looks at you with an expression that's somewhere between amusement and challenge.

"Is it working?"

Your mouth goes dry. "What?"

"The distraction," she says, and you swear she moves even closer. "Is it working?"

You're saved from having to answer by Dookie, who chooses this exact moment to jump between you, apparently deciding he's been ignored for far too long. The cat gives you both a look that clearly says "I've had enough of your nonsense."

"Traitor," you mutter to the cat, who responds by making himself comfortable across both your laps, effectively creating a furry barrier between you and Tara.

Tara laughs, scratching behind Dookie's ears. "My hero," she coos to the cat. "Saving me from another lecture about Angela Baker's psychological complexity."

"You're both against me," you declare dramatically. "I'm being ganged up on in my own home."

"Cry about it," she suggests sweetly, but she's leaning against your shoulder now, and Dookie is purring, and maybe being ganged up on isn't the worst thing in the world.

—

"I cannot believe you're still defending this," you say, watching in horror as Tara drowns her mac and cheese in a truly concerning amount of hot sauce. "This is actually painful to witness."

"You're being dramatic," she retorts, adding what appears to be her entire body weight in ketchup to the already crime-scene-worthy pasta. "Some of us actually like flavor."

"Flavor? That's—" you're interrupted by the doorbell, which is probably for the best because you were about to launch into a dissertation about the difference between flavor and masochism.

"I'll get it," Tara says, but you're already standing up.

"Absolutely not. I've seen enough horror movies to know the cute girl who answers the door always dies first."

The word 'cute' slips out before you can catch it, and you practically sprint to the door to avoid seeing her reaction. This proves to be a tactical error when you open it to find possibly the most conventionally attractive pizza delivery guy you've ever seen, complete with the kind of jawline that belongs on a CW show.

"Hey," he says, then looks past you to where Tara has appeared behind your shoulder. His entire demeanor shifts, voice dropping an octave. "Hey."

You resist the urge to close the door in his face.

"That'll be twenty-four fifty," he says to Tara, completely ignoring your existence. "Though I could make it free if you'd let me take you out sometime."

Something hot and uncomfortable coils in your stomach. You reach for your wallet, but Tara beats you to it, pulling out cash from her pocket.

"Here's thirty," she says, a slight flush creeping up her neck. "Keep the change."

"You sure I can't convince you?" He flashes a smile that probably works wonders at frat parties. "I make a mean pasta. No ketchup required."

Your head snaps up at that. He must have overheard your earlier conversation, which means he's been standing here long enough to eavesdrop, which means—

"She likes her pasta exactly how she likes it," you say, perhaps a bit sharper than necessary, taking the pizza from his hands. "Thanks for the delivery."

You close the door before he can respond, turning to find Tara looking at you with an expression that makes your heart do something complicated in your chest. The flush on her neck has spread to her cheeks.

"So," she says, voice carefully neutral but eyes dancing with something that looks suspiciously like amusement. "No ketchup required, huh?"

"Don't start," you mutter, carrying the pizza to the kitchen. "And don't even think about putting hot sauce on this. I saw you wincing earlier from your mac and cheese."

"My tongue is fine," she protests, following you. "Besides, maybe I like the burn."

"Your masochistic tendencies are concerning, Carpenter."

She hops up onto your counter, legs swinging slightly in that stupid perfect skirt. "Says the person who just went full guard dog on the pizza guy."

"I did not—" you start, then catch the look on her face. "I was just… concerned about food temperature maintenance."

"Uh-huh." She's full-on grinning now, cheeks still tinged pink. "And I suppose the death glare was just about proper pizza handling protocols?"

"You know what?" You grab a slice, pointedly avoiding her gaze. "I preferred it when you were defending your crimes against pasta."

"Speaking of which…" She reaches for the bottle of hot sauce she apparently manifested from thin air.

"Absolutely not." You snatch it away, holding it above your head. "I'm not listening to you complain about tongue burn all night again."

"Bold of you to assume I need your permission," she says, sliding off the counter and stepping closer. Much closer. Close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in her eyes, can feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

Your breath catches. She reaches up, ostensibly for the hot sauce, but her hand lands on your wrist instead. Neither of you moves.

"Tara," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Your mac and cheese is getting cold."

She laughs, the sound soft and close, and you think maybe this is better than any Valentine's party could ever be. Even if she is completely wrong about pasta condiments.

"You're impossible," she says, but she's smiling, and she hasn't moved away, and maybe—

Dookie chooses this exact moment to knock over the entire box of pizza.

"Traitor," you both say in unison, then look at each other and burst out laughing.

The moment breaks, but something else settles in its place – something warm and comfortable and maybe a little bit inevitable. Like the way Tara's hand is still on your wrist, or how she's looking at you with that half-smile that makes your heart skip beats.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, screen lighting up with a notification. Tara glances at it reflexively, and something in her expression shifts – subtle enough that someone who doesn't know her as well as you do might miss it, but you've spent months cataloging her micro-expressions during horror movie marathons.

"Charlotte?" she says, and there's something in her voice that makes your stomach drop. "Didn't realize you two were still talking."

You reach for your phone, but Tara's already turning away, suddenly very interested in reorganizing the scattered pizza toppings on her plate. "It's not—"

"No, it's fine," she cuts you off, but her shoulders are tense in that way they get when she's trying too hard to seem casual. "I mean, obviously you can talk to whoever you want."

"Tara."

"I just thought after what happened at New Year's—"

"Nothing happened at New Year's," you say, perhaps a bit too quickly. "We just talked."

She lets out a laugh that doesn't sound like a laugh at all. "Right. Because that's totally why you disappeared for an hour and came back looking like—"

"Like what?" There's an edge to your voice now, the playful atmosphere from earlier evaporating like morning dew. "Come on, Carpenter. Say what you really mean."

She finally looks at you, and there's something raw in her expression that makes your chest ache. "Like you'd rather be anywhere else. With anyone else."

"That's not—" you start, but she's on a roll now.

"You know what? It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have…" she trails off, pushing her plate away. "This was stupid. I should go."

"Are you seriously doing this right now?" You follow her as she starts gathering her things. "Over a text message you didn't even read?"

"This isn't about the text," she says, but she won't meet your eyes. "This is about you always having one foot out the door."

"Me?" You can't help the incredulous laugh that escapes. "That's rich coming from someone who can't even admit why she really skipped Chad's party tonight."

She freezes, one hand on her bag. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means." Your heart is pounding, words spilling out before you can stop them. "You're not the only one who's allowed to be scared, Tara."

The silence that follows is deafening. Even Dookie seems to be holding his breath, watching from his perch on the bookshelf with unblinking eyes.

"I'm not scared," she says finally, but her voice wavers slightly.

"No?" You step closer, close enough to see the pulse jumping in her throat. "Then why are you running?"

She looks up at you then, and there's something in her eyes that makes your breath catch – a mix of vulnerability and defiance that's so uniquely Tara it makes your heart hurt.

"Because you let her kiss you," she whispers, and the words hang in the air between you like smoke. "At New Year's. You let her kiss you, and then you came back and acted like nothing happened, and I—"

"She didn't kiss me," you interrupt softly. "I stopped her."

Tara blinks. "What?"

"She tried, yeah. But I stopped her." You run a hand through your hair, frustrated. "Because apparently I'm pathetically gone for someone who puts ketchup in her mac and cheese and thinks 'Prom Night' is better than 'Sleepaway Camp.'"

A beat passes. Then another. Tara's still holding her bag, but her grip has loosened.

"Pathetically?" she repeats, and there's a hint of something in her voice that might be hope.

"Absolutely tragic levels," you confirm, taking another step closer. "It's embarrassing, really. I can't even enjoy pizza delivery without getting jealous."

A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "That was pretty embarrassing."

"Says the person who wore The Skirt™️ to watch Yellowjackets."

She flushes, but she's not running anymore. "You noticed that, huh?"

"Tara," you say softly, "I notice everything about you. It's kind of the problem."

She looks at you for a long moment, then slowly sets her bag down. "You really stopped her?"

"Of course I did." You reach out, tentatively tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Some of us don't have terrible taste in everything."

She laughs, the sound watery but real. "Just in movies, right?"

"And pasta condiments," you agree, and when she smiles, it feels like coming home.

The moment stretches between you like taffy, sweet and fragile. Tara's looking at you with those eyes that always make you forget how to breathe properly, and you're close enough to count her freckles, to see the way her pulse flutters in her throat. Her hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with a certainty that makes your heart stutter.

You could kiss her. You should kiss her. Everything in you is screaming to close that final distance.

Instead, you step back.

The hurt that flashes across her face is gone so quickly you almost convince yourself you imagined it. Almost.

"I can't," you whisper, and the words taste like ash in your mouth. "Not like this."

"Like what?" Her voice is carefully neutral, but you can see her walls going up, brick by careful brick. "With me?"

"That's not—" You run a hand through your hair, frustrated. "You're upset about Charlotte, and the pizza guy, and—"

"Don't." She pulls her hand away, and the loss of contact feels like a physical ache. "Don't you dare try to explain away what just happened."

"I'm trying to protect—"

"Me?" She laughs, but it's a hollow sound that doesn't reach her eyes. "From what, exactly? From making my own decisions? From wanting something that apparently terrifies you?"

"That's not fair."

"No?" She takes a step back, and somehow that small distance feels like miles. "Then what is this, really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like you're the one with one foot out the door."

The words hit like a slap, echoing your earlier accusation back at you. "Tara—"

"You know what the worst part is?" She's gathering her things again, movements sharp and jerky. "For a second there, I actually thought… God, I'm such an idiot."

"You're not—"

"Save it." She's not looking at you anymore, focused intently on collecting her scattered belongings. "I get it, okay? You're not ready, or you're scared, or whatever excuse you want to use. But don't pretend this is about protecting me."

You want to stop her. Want to explain that you're terrified of ruining this, of losing her, of what happens when the Valentine's Day magic wears off and she realizes you're not worth all this trouble. Want to tell her that you've never been good at keeping the things you love.

Instead, you watch her shrug on her jacket, that stupid perfect skirt swishing with the movement.

"Tara, please—"

"I should go," she says, and her voice is steady even though her hands are shaking slightly. "Before I say something we'll both regret."

Dookie watches from his perch as she heads for the door, tail twitching like he's judging your life choices. You don't blame him.

She pauses at the threshold, one hand on the doorknob. For a moment, you think she might turn around, might give you another chance to fix this. But then her shoulders straighten, and you know what's coming before she says it.

"For the record?" Her voice is quiet but clear. "You're wrong. About everything"

The door closes behind her with a soft click that somehow sounds louder than a slam would have. You stand there in the silence, surrounded by half-eaten pizza and the lingering scent of her perfume, thinking about all the ways hearts break in horror movies versus real life.

-------

A/N: I feel like a cartoon villain. It's nice.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #let the light in au

287 notes · View notes

amara-scott · 1 month ago

Text

Just friends.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 — Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x female!Slytherin Summary: Hiding the one thing you truly loved, the one person you trusted most was a horrible way to live. But if it was the only way to be with him, you would do anything. And he would do the same. warning: jealousy, a little angst

The next day dragged on with the usual monotony of classes, but the upcoming Valentine’s Ball had every other student in a frenzy. Even our professors seemed resigned to the distracted chatter and whispered invitations being passed across desks.

I was seated beside Pansy in Potions, idly twirling my quill while we waited for Slughorn to arrive and droned on about the properties of Amortentia. Right before us, Theo was smirking at some poor Hufflepuff girl across the room who had just tripped over her own feet while staring at him.

"So, what do you say, Greengrass?" A Ravenclaw boy—Duncan Harper, I think—was leaning against Daphne’s desk, grinning. "Will you be my date to the Ball?"

Daphne barely spared him a glance, already stirring her potion with a delicate flick of her wrist. "No, thank you."

He didn’t seem deterred. "Are you sure? I’m an excellent dancer."

Pansy snorted from beside me, muttering, "Doubtful." I hide a smile at her statement and continue to read the list of ingredients we would need for today.

But Duncan wasn’t the only one feeling bold. A Gryffindor—Henry Whitmore—sauntered up to our desk, clearly having built up his courage. And maybe being a bit too cocky for his own good. Gryffindors.

"Pansy Parkinson," he started, offering a confident grin. "Would you do me the honor of—"

She looked up from her parchment, fixing him with a stare so sharp and unimpressed that Henry physically flinched.

"—never mind," he muttered, backtracking instantly. "Apologies for the—um—disturbance." He hurried back to his seat before she could say another word. Almost tripping over his own feet and his head red as a beet.

Theo, who observed the scene from his table before us, leaned back, grinning. "That was brutal."

Pansy smirked, returning to her notes, shrugging like the most innocent girl there was. "If they can’t handle a look, they wouldn’t survive a dance with me."

I hid my laughter behind my hand, sneaking a glance at Mattheo across the room. He was watching the scene unfold with vague amusement, his fingers busy with his own task. He must have felt my stare because he turned his head slightly, smirking at me.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my work, ignoring the way my heart picked up speed.

After class, the sun was warm as we lounged in the courtyard, enjoying the rare moment of peace. Pansy sat beside me, flipping through her magazine once again. The same one she was skipping through at breakfast, looking for another dress to stun everyone at the ball, probably.

Blaise and Enzo strolled over, dropping their school bags onto the ground with a collective sigh.

"Alright," Blaise said, stretching his arms over his head before taking a seat on the ground across from Pansy and me, Enzo following suit. "Who’s up for a night at the Three Broomsticks? Butterbeer on me."

"Tempting," Pansy mused, flipping a page. "But I have better plans."

Enzo raised a brow. "Better than free drinks?"

Pansy smirked. "I got invited to an exclusive Ravenclaw party in the tower tonight."

The boys immediately sat up, intrigued. My own interest perked and ready to squeeze every detailed information out of her.

"You’re joking," Enzo said, propping himself on his elbows. "How the hell did you manage that?"

Pansy inspected her nails. "I have my ways."

Blaise groaned. "That’s not fair. Do you know how hard it is to get into one of those? Ravenclaws don’t just let anyone in."

"Well, obviously," Pansy teased.

"Think you could sneak us in?" Enzo asked, eyes alight with hope.

Pansy tapped a finger against her lips, pretending to think. "Maybe. If you all behave."

"Define ‘behave,’" Enzo muttered.

Before she could answer, Draco and Mattheo sauntered into the courtyard, deep in conversation. A moment later, Theo came running after them, slightly winded.

"Merlin’s sake, could you two slow down?" Theo huffed, collapsing onto the grass beside us.

Draco smirked. "You need to keep up, Nott."

Mattheo dropped next to me without a word, stretching his legs out. The closeness was casual, natural—at least to everyone else. To me, it was an electric current beneath my skin.

"What are we talking about?" Mattheo asked, glancing around, eyes finding mine.

"Pansy’s exclusive Ravenclaw invite," I explain, "She claims she might be able to get us all in."

Draco’s brows lifted. "That’s impressive."

Pansy smiled, looking quite pleased with herself. "I know."

Mattheo chuckled. "And what’s the price for this favor?"

Pansy’s grin turned wicked. "Only that you boys behave yourselves."

Theo groaned. "Alright, fine. But if we get kicked out, I’m blaming Draco."

"As if that’s anything new," Draco shot back. Looking annoyed, but didn't fight back as he knew he wouldn't get far with stubborn Theodore Nott.

The conversation flowed easily after that, filled with laughter and playful jabs. I leaned back, letting myself relax, knowing that for now, at least, everything felt normal.

Time flew as Pansy and I discussed the Ravenclaw party and soon got ready together, sharing the same mirror and giggling as we got dressed in our most "out there" dresses. We both loved bold, but Pansy literally glowed whenever she wore anything remotely revealing. A true Slytherin with pride and confidence that wasn't fake.

The Ravenclaw Tower was already buzzing with energy by the time we arrived. The moment we stepped inside—thanks to Pansy sweet-talking the host, a sixth-year named Elias Montgomery—it was clear this wasn’t just any party. Blue and silver enchanted lights flickered across the walls, casting a soft glow over the room. Music pulsed through the space, blending seamlessly with the sound of laughter and shouting. A couple of bookshelves that usually held dusty tomes had been cleared to make room for trays of drinks, and even a few study desks had been transfigured into makeshift lounges.

"Alright," Pansy said, turning to us with a smirk. "Try not to embarrass me." She addressed the boys, sending a pointed look at Enzo and Theo last, both of them giddy.

Theo scoffed. "Please. We should be saying that to you."

Pansy rolled her eyes and melted into the crowd, waving us goodbye, already chatting up a group of Ravenclaw girls who looked like they knew her.

Draco and Blaise exchanged glances before heading toward the drinks, Enzo trailing after them. Theo, ever the social butterfly, immediately started making conversation with a group of seventh-years. That left me with Mattheo, who had been quiet ever since we stepped inside.

I nudged him. "You alright?"

He glanced at me, the blue light casting shadows over his sharp features. "Yeah. Just never thought I’d willingly step foot in Ravenclaw Tower, that’s all."

I chuckled. "Expanding your horizons. I’m proud."

His lips twitched in amusement, but his eyes held something else—something darker. "Not too proud, I hope." His eyes lingering on my appearance, studying my dress casually, "you look stunning, by the way." He muttered and

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, thank you, Matty." A small blush forming on my cheeks.

"Just don't get too cozy, wouldn't want people to think you actually belong here." He adds and smirks, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Oh? And where would I belong then?" I reply, gently playing with the hem of his shirt as we stand close, masked by the surrounding crowds.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached for my fingers, tugging me even closer, his voice dropping so only I could hear. "With me."

A shiver ran down my spine, but before I could respond, Blaise’s voice cut through the noise.

"Oi, Y/N!" Blaise walks over to us and I take a small step back, "Some Ravenclaw bloke’s been asking about you."

Mattheo’s grip on my hand tightened for just a second before he let go. His jaw tensed, but his expression was unreadable.

I turned to Blaise, who was grinning like he knew exactly what kind of chaos he was about to cause. "Who?"

"Don’t know. Tall, dark-haired, looked like he reads poetry in his spare time. Probably wants to charm you with sonnets or something."

I snorted, but before I could say anything, Mattheo exhaled sharply and muttered, "Fantastic."

Blaise grinned, clearly enjoying this. "You should at least say hello. He looked nervous—adorable, really."

I glanced at Mattheo, but he was deliberately not looking at me. Instead, he grabbed a drink from the nearest table, swirling it lazily in his hand.

I sighed, shooting Blaise a look before making my way toward the group he had motioned to. If someone wanted to talk to me, I might as well say hello.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mattheo tip his head back, downing his drink in one go.

I hesitated before making my way toward the group Blaise had motioned to, my stomach twisting slightly. As I got closer, recognition clicked into place.

Callum Davies.

We’d worked on a project together in fifth year, something for Charms that involved hours spent perfecting non-verbal spellwork. He had been quiet but clever, a little awkward at times, but sharp with his magic. I remembered late-night library sessions, parchment covered in notes, and the occasional smirk when he caught me rolling my eyes at something our professor said.

"Y/N," he greeted, his smile easy but a little nervous. "I was hoping to run into you tonight."

I raised a brow, amused. "Really? Didn’t take you for the party type."

He chuckled. "I usually prefer something quieter, but I figured tonight was worth making an exception." His gaze flickered toward me, assessing, before he asked, "Enjoying yourself?"

I shrugged, swirling the drink in my hand Pansy had given to me as we entered the Ravenclaw tower earlier. "It's alright. Same faces, same drama, different night."

Callum smirked. "That sounds about right. Though, I'd argue the company makes all the difference."

I arched a brow at him. "Oh? And what makes tonight’s company so special?"

He hesitated for half a second, then gave me a knowing look. "Well, for starters, I managed to find you in this chaos. That’s a win in my book."

I huffed a small laugh, shaking my head. "Smooth, Callum. Very smooth."

He grinned but didn’t push, instead leaning against the wall beside me, his presence oddly steady despite the loud, drunken energy around us.

After a beat of silence, he asked, quieter this time, "You sure you're enjoying yourself?"

Something about the way he asked made me pause. I met his gaze, searching for whatever it was he wasn’t saying. "Why do you ask?"

He tilted his head slightly, considering. "I don’t know. Just… you seem like you’re somewhere else tonight."

For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. Because maybe he wasn’t wrong. Maybe my mind had been drifting too much—to Mattheo, to the weight of secrets I wasn’t sure I could keep holding onto.

But I forced a smirk and raised my glass. "Maybe I just need another drink."

Callum didn’t quite buy it. But he let it go.

"Should we perhaps dance? Might distract you a bit?"

Before I could answer, I felt the shift in the air—the kind that made my pulse quicken before I even saw him.

Mattheo.

His presence was unmistakable, a storm brewing at the edge of my vision. A second later, he was beside me, too close, his entire body radiating tension.

"Sorry to interrupt," Mattheo said smoothly, though there was nothing apologetic in his tone. "But I need to borrow Y/N for a moment."

I exhaled sharply, my fingers curling into my palm. "Mattheo—"

He ignored me, his grip closing around my wrist, firmer than before.

"Won’t be long," he muttered, already steering me away.

I dug my heels into the floor, resisting for as long as I could. "Mattheo, you can’t just—"

But he wasn’t listening. He never did when he was like this.

"I— I guess I'll see you later, Y/N—" Callum stutters and I send him a small apologetic smile, nodding.

Mattheo's grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to make it clear he wasn’t letting go. His jaw was clenched, his breath steady, but I could feel the storm raging beneath his skin.

By the time we reached a secluded alcove, far from the pulsing energy of the party, I yanked my hand free, heart hammering.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I hissed.

His chest rose and fell sharply, eyes blazing. "What’s wrong with me?" he repeated, incredulous. "What’s wrong with you? Standing there, acting like that Ravenclaw isn’t trying to get you alone—like he hasn’t been waiting for an opportunity the entire night."

I scoffed. "Mattheo, it was just a conversation—"

"Don’t," he snapped, stepping closer. "Don’t pretend you didn’t see it."

I shook my head, frustration clawing at my throat. "You’re being too obvious. People are going to start noticing if you keep acting like this."

His expression flickered—hurt, conflicted. "Noticing what?"

I swallowed hard. "That something’s going on. Between us."

His jaw tightened. "Right. Because keeping this stupid cover is more important than me losing my mind every time some idiot looks at you like you’re theirs to claim."

My breath hitched, my anger momentarily faltering.

"You don’t understand," he muttered, running a hand through his curls, his frustration palpable. "It’s not just tonight. Every time I see some guy watching you, talking to you, hoping you’ll notice them—I feel like I’m coming undone."

I opened my mouth to argue, but something about the way he said it made my stomach flip.

"Mattheo," I whispered, suddenly unsure of what to say.

His gaze was sharp, burning into mine. "And you don’t even notice, do you?" he asked, almost disbelieving.

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but I didn’t need to. Because the truth was simple.

I didn’t notice them.

I only noticed him.

Taglist: @genterom903

#imagine #imagines #fanfiction #harry potter #slytherin boys #mattheo x y/n #mattheo #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader

179 notes · View notes

violetarks · 1 year ago

Text

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #satoru #satoru x reader

1K notes · View notes