#heart eyes fic exchange submission
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A Term For Endearment
Three weeks later, Buck is in the gym doing deadlifts while Eddie is across the floor on the treadmill. Due to the mirror behind him, Buck keeps Eddie in his line of sight during their entire workout. Which okay, might be a little creepy, but now they’re boyfriends. Can’t he check out his boyfriend at the gym?
Buck can do it whenever he wants now. No looking away before Eddie can catch him. No feeling guilty about checking out his ass – and what an ass it is. No worrying about taking advantage of Eddie. He can follow the journey of that black tank top sticking to his muscular torso as he jogs on the treadmill. He can gaze respectfully at the way his tight shorts hug his ass and ride up his thighs when he does squats…
Yeah, he’s pretty lucky.
As exciting as it is to get with Eddie, Buck finds the real exhilarating part is being with him.
They hold hands now. Buck can kiss him whenever he wants. He wakes up in Eddie’s bed. They’ve gone on one date where they went mini-golfing because Buck thought it sounded like a cute first date idea. (Buck lost terribly, mostly because he couldn’t stop glancing over at Eddie as if he was going to disappear. And okay, also every time Eddie bent over to take a shot, which gave Buck a really good view of his backside.)
Buck has plenty of other ideas for date nights, like going to fancy restaurants and the movies. Exploring museums and taking long hikes with beautiful viewpoints. Basically, most of the stuff they’ve already done, but they haven’t done it as boyfriends. Now when they go, Buck wraps his arm around Eddie’s waist, and they kiss and embarrass Chris even more.
Buck’s hoping for their next date night they can do one of those paint and sip classes.
When Eddie wipes his forehead with the tail of his shirt, Buck nearly drops the weights he just picked up to do another set. He focuses on tightening his grip and does his last round, maybe going a little faster so he can cool down on the treadmill beside Eddie.
Usually on Thursdays, Buck goes to the gym in the afternoon before going to pick up Christopher from school. Sometimes, Eddie comes with him and other times he chooses to take a nap or tidy the house. Since they started dating, it’s more times than not that he comes with Buck.
And maybe since they’ve started dating, Buck is lifting slightly heavier weights than he normally would to show off for Eddie. He knows Eddie enjoys the show because last week he caught him staring (possibly drooling) while he did his goblet squat set.
Just another perk to being Eddie’s boyfriend.
It’s another slight modification of their relationship (except not really because Buck can think of two times he showed off in the gym for Eddie and it was decidedly before he realized his Big Feelings for him).
Once Buck is finished, he heads toward Eddie, grabbing two towels on his way in case Eddie needs another. He does tend to sweat a lot and while Buck has never really cared much for perspiration before, on Eddie, it’s almost like an aphrodisiac. (Okay, it is an aphrodisiac. Buck can now openly admit he’s licked a trail of sweat from Eddie’s abs, but they are boyfriends so.)
“Hey,” Buck says hopping on the treadmill beside him.
Eddie slows down and grins, “Hey yourself.”
“You almost ready?”
Eddie nods, lowering the speed until he’s walking. “I need to grab some more water before my cool down. Save my spot?”
“As if you have to ask.”
Eddie hops off and goes to the water fountain. Buck turns back on his music and smiles at his retreating back, his gaze sliding downward because he gets to and there’s nothing wrong with taking ad—
A woman jumps on Eddie’s treadmill and Buck takes out one of his AirPods to gesture at Eddie’s towel hanging over the arm.
“Sorry, that’s my – my boyfriend’s.”
The women looks a little surprised at Buck talking to her and steps off the treadmill.
“Oh, sorry,” she says and goes to a free one four down.
Eddie is making his way back toward Buck, stopping to take a sip of his water. The hair on the side of his head is a shade darker from sweat. His skin glistens in the very unflattering lights of the gym. His black tank top is darker under his arms and along the neckline. There’s a steadily growing hole at the bottom of the t-shirt near the hem. He gulps down the water and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.
Boyfriend.
He just called Eddie his boyfriend.
Out loud.
He hasn’t gotten to say it out loud yet. Not to a stranger at least.
Sure, when they told the team, and their families, and Chris, Buck said, ‘Eddie and I are dating’ and ‘Eddie is my boyfriend,’ but he’s never said it to a total stranger.
And while he really enjoys saying it in his head, there’s something about saying it to someone else that makes that spark of affection and heat in his chest flicker to life for Eddie.
Buck smiles and drapes his sweatshirt he wore into the gym on the arm of the treadmill to stop anyone else from getting on it because apparently a towel isn’t enough. No one else should take his boyfriend’s treadmill.
As Buck jogs through his cool down, Eddie comes back and jumps on the machine. He runs a hand through his hair so it’s sticking up on end from the humidity and perspiration. Buck’s fingers twitch. When they’re finished exercising, he’s going to run his fingers through it. And when they’re waiting in the pick up line for Chris, he’ll curl his fingers in the tendrils. And when—
“You miss me?” Eddie jokes increasing the speed to match Buck.
Buck grins, nearly tripping. “Always.”
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#heart eyes fic exchange submission#thanks again kwills91 for setting this up!#cute little one shot#Valentine’s Day coded#maybe#buddie#buddie 911#buddie fanfiction#buddie fanfic#evan buckley#Eddie diaz
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25 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader
summary: (Y/N) decides to get her brother’s best friend’s attention and he’s more than willing to give it to her.
warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, brother’s best friend!nicholas, dominant tease/bratty submissive, slow burn, forbidden romance??, implied age gap but not by much tbh it’s mostly just power dynamic
required listening: 25 by Veruca Salt
word count: 7,742
a/n: ik I try to wait a week between fics but I’m sawriiii I just loved this one too much to not post immediately. I do have another fic in the drafts but honestly I hate it now so I don’t think I’ll post that one. anyway im already planning on continuing this one YUPPPPP 🙂↕️ i just love listening to my playlist and writing xoxo lmk if you’re a veruca salt fan
reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!
I never meant to eavesdrop on my brother’s conversations with him — Nicholas. Their voices, along with the sounds of Call of Duty blasting through the tv speakers, always managed to spill through the Jack and Jill bathroom that bridged our bedrooms. I would catch myself lingering by the bathroom door, my book or phone in hand as a cover, pretending I just happened to be nearby. My brother would crack some joke, and Nicholas’s laugh would come through low and warm, and my skin would prickle at the sound. Or sometimes I’d even hear the salacious stories of Nicholas and his fling of the week. Either way, I listened intently.
Nicholas and my brother have been best friends for years. He just showed up to the house one day and just kept coming back, like what happens whenever you find your best friend for life, like how I did. But my brother and I don’t run in the same circles, not really; he has his friends, and I have mine — and they never mixed, not even at our backyard cookouts where we’d each invite a friend or two. We always found ourselves at opposite corners of the house, and it was probably because they were a little older than us.
As a result, I never bothered, or was too nervous, to exchange more than a few words with Nicholas other than the occasional polite conversation, but he always managed to get under my skin either way. It was like he knew, somehow, like he could see right through me, past all my attempts at being casual or indifferent.
I couldn’t control the way my heart skipped a beat every time Nicholas’s eyes flicked over to me whenever I’d pass by them in the living room or as we passed around plates at the dinner table, especially not when I’d pass by him in the hallway and he’d flash me that all-too-famous smirk. I guess that’s why I eavesdropped on them; it was the only way I got to know him without having to say a word to him.
So, I didn’t know what was so different about that night that I just had to get Nicholas’s attention somehow, even if for just a second. I wasn’t sure if I would’ve bumped into him in the hallway, or even the bathroom, or not, but I still decided to slip into the skimpiest set of pajamas I had — a delicate pair of shorts that barely reached the back of my thighs and a camisole that clung to me like second skin. My mom had told me to never wear it whenever there were people over; it was “too revealing.”
“(Y/N)!” My brother’s voice traveled through the bathroom, shouting over his TV.
Hesitantly, I rolled out of my bed, my sock-covered feet quietly shuffling across the floor over to the bathroom. Before I reached the door to his room, I looked down at myself and suddenly grew shy. Maybe I was trying too hard. Would Nicholas notice? Second guessing my sudden boldness, I carefully hid half my body behind the door frame when I cracked open the door to his room.
My eyes flickered to Nicholas, who was perched on the edge of my brother’s bed, controller in hand, leaning forward slightly as he focused on the screen. He didn’t look over right away, but the second I peeked through the crack of the door, his gaze shifted back and forth between me and the TV, his thumbs hesitating on the controller.
“Yeah?” I asked quietly, trying to sound as casual as possible, one of my feet cricketing against the other.
My brother barely glanced at me, his eyes glued to the team deathmatch round they were playing. “Do we still have any snacks left in the pantry or did you finish them?”
I hesitated, feeling Nicholas’s eyes on me. His gaze lingered, scanning over what little of me was visible behind the door. His dark brown eyes were unreadable, but there was something in his expression, something curious, that made me feel both exposed and exhilarated.
“Yeah, there’s still some cookies and chips. I'm not a vacuum,” I said finally, my voice softer now and muttering the last part. I rested my cheek against the frame, my gaze flickering between Nicholas, the floor, and my brother.
“Could you bring us some?” My brother asked, his fingers violently attacking the buttons on the controller, the sounds of loud gunshots and footsteps responding to his every button mash. “We’re in the middle of a round.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice even. I pushed off the doorframe and stepped back into the bathroom, catching the way Nicholas’s gaze dropped briefly, taking in more of me now that I wasn’t partially hidden.
I ducked back into my room, the air feeling heavier as I padded toward the kitchen. My heart was racing, every nerve in my body alive with the lingering awareness of his gaze. It wasn’t just my brother’s casual request that stuck with me, but the way Nicholas had looked at me — like I wasn’t just his friend’s little sister sneaking glances from behind doors.
In the kitchen, I opened the pantry and pulled out the cookies and chips, my nerves bubbling as I anticipated the moment I’d walk into my brother’s room wearing this outfit. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected — maybe a quick glance and nothing more, but the idea was scintillating either way.
My mom strutted into the kitchen then, still in her work clothes. “I thought I told you not to wear that when people were over,” she smirked knowingly. I had a little bit of a tendency to defy orders.
I glanced over my shoulder, feigning innocence. “It’s hot out,” I shrugged my shoulders as I closed the pantry and scampered past her with snacks in tow.
I returned to my brother’s room with the snacks in hand, pausing at the cracked bathroom door before taking a breath and sheepishly walking in. I stepped fully into the room, my bare legs feeling more exposed than they ever had before. “Here,” I called, keeping my tone neutral, like nothing about this moment felt significant, even though my pulse told a different story.
My brother barely spared me a glance as I set the snacks down in front of them, his attention glued to the screen. Nicholas, on the other hand, wasn’t as discreet. He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over his knee as he finally looked up from the game. His dark brown eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make me feel like every inch of my skin was on display under his gaze.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t smirk or tease the way he usually did. My cheeks burned as I shifted on my feet, my fingers brushing against the hem of my shorts, unsure what to do with myself.
“Thanks, (Y/N),” Nicholas said finally, his voice cutting through the tension. It was smooth, casual.
I smiled softly, more out of nerves than anything else, and started to retreat toward the door. “Don’t get used to it,” I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder. I cast one last glance at Nicholas. He was still watching me, his head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was suppressing a smirk. It was like he knew exactly what I was doing.
Now, I don’t know why I did it, maybe because I was so flustered that I didn’t notice or maybe I subconsciously knew what I was doing, but I left my bathroom door open just a smidge, enough for the soft light of my room to spill out and shine through the darkness of the bathroom, like a beacon in the night begging to be followed. Maybe it was a dare, or maybe I was just curious to see if he’d take the bait.
I threw myself onto my bed, stomach down, trying to calm my ever-racing heart as I replayed the moment Nicholas’s gaze lingered on me. I couldn’t bite back the smile forming on my lips as I pictured the look in his eye when I walked into the room. It sent a thrill through me. Did I finally manage to pique his interest as much as he piqued mine?
My heartbeat was unrelenting, so I reached for the book on my nightstand, hoping that reading a few pages might calm me. Of course, though, I wasn’t focusing on the pages. How could I? When my older brother’s hot best friend was right on the other side of that door?
Eventually, the sound of video games and laughter died down as the minutes ticked into the late night, replaced by muffled conversation before trailing off into complete silence. The only sound I could hear, now, was the occasional turn of the page and my thumping heartbeat, maybe the imperceptible hum of the lightbulb coming from my bedside lamp.
And on the other side, Nicholas could also hear the faint scratch of a page turning, too. He was lying down in his makeshift bed of blankets on the floor, quietly scrolling on his phone. The screen of his phone cast a faint glow on his face, but his attention wasn’t on the timeline of tweets he had planned on reading through. It was on that tiny crack of light spilling into the dark bathroom, the faintest view of my room on the other side.
He couldn’t sleep. How could he? The tight, little number I was bold enough to wear but still shy enough to hide behind the door frame, the way I glanced at him when I passed through to give them snacks, the subtle sway of my hips as I disappeared back into the bathroom to my room as if I hadn’t worn that number on purpose. And now, the crack in my door was basically daring him to walk through.
I didn’t know it, but it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed me. He always looked forward to seeing me scamper through the kitchen as quickly as possible whenever they took it over for whatever they were doing, and he was always equally curious about what would happen behind my door, especially when he could hear me laughing with my friends or my CD player blasting Veruca Salt.
His friend — my brother — was out cold, snoring like a chainsaw. Nicholas glanced at him, then back at the door, then back at him, then back at the door. It was a bad idea; he knew it. I was off-limits. My brother hadn’t told him that explicitly, but he did express his distaste when Nicholas made an off-handed comment about me some a couple years ago and that was enough to deter him. But tonight, my brother was asleep, while Nicholas and I were still awake.
Nicholas turned his phone off then, quietly pulling the blanket off himself and standing up, padding quietly to the bathroom and closing the door to my brother’s room behind him. He tiptoed toward my door, taking a peek through the crack and hoping that maybe just indulging himself in the image of me would satiate him. But the moment he saw me on my bed — twiddling with the end of a braid or two or many as I laid on my stomach, propped up on my elbows as I read, my legs crossed at the ankles, the pajamas I wore barely covering anything — he knew just looking wouldn’t be enough.
My heart raced when I heard the faint creak of my door, but I didn’t look up right away, choosing to pretend I was so engrossed in my book that I couldn’t be bothered to see what had made the noise. What did make me glance over my shoulder, though, was the light clinking of glass.
I turned my head and saw Nicholas leaning against the doorframe curiously inspecting a nail polish I had left on the dresser that was near the bathroom door, a smirk on his face. That set my heart racing.
“Nicholas,” I spoke quietly as I closed the book in my hands, watching him as he continued to fiddle with the things on my dresser — nail polishes, bracelets, a hairbrush.
Nicholas didn’t say anything at first, just let his dark brown eyes sweep across my dresser one last time before they swept across my room, then finally landed on me and took in the scene — the book in my hands, the way I was sprawled across the bed, the faint flush on my cheeks that I couldn’t seem to shake.
He glanced over his shoulder back toward my brother’s bathroom door, still closed, before looking back at me. “Are you usually up this late?” he said finally, his voice low, like he was afraid of breaking the stillness of the moment.
I turned onto my side, giving him a better view of me in my pajamas. His gaze lingered on my torso, and I bit back a smile. “Sometimes.”
He dropped his arms and stepped in, his movements unhurried as he quietly closed the door behind him and looked around my room. I couldn’t believe it. He was in my room.
“Your brother’s out cold,” he said, almost like an explanation, as if I didn’t already know. He turned his head to look at the Heart poster on my wall, arching his back to stretch, his shirt riding up a little to show off the happy trail adorning his lower abdomen. I just about choked at the sight.
When he looked back at me, he had that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You left your door open.”
“Did I?” I asked quietly, lying back down on my stomach but looking at him over my shoulder.
His smirk deepened, like he didn’t believe me for a second. “Didn’t you?”
My stomach flipped, the challenge in his tone making it impossible to look away, but I had to if I didn’t want him to see the heat rising to my cheeks. So I turned my attention back to my book but the words blurred together. I couldn’t focus, not at all. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
He stepped further into the room until he was at the edge of my bed looking down at me, still smirking. “You don’t sound very convincing.”
I shrugged, letting my fingers trail along the edge of the pages. I decided to give him an out, something that would test his resolve. “My brother’s gonna kill you if he finds out.”
He hesitated, just for a moment, before sitting down next to me. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I shifted slightly to face him. “I know,” he whispered as his eyes trailed my bare legs.
He slowly laid down on his side beside me, and it all started with a touch — his hand reaching out to rest on my thigh, his palm hot against my skin. My breath hitched, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let my leg drift closer toward him, the faintest encouragement.
“I should go,” he murmured softly, his fingers brushing up and stopping just short at the hem of my shorts. His eyes flicked up to mine, gazing at me through his abundance of eyelashes.
I couldn’t look away from his dark brown eyes, the way they softened as they met mine, yet held something deeper — something that made my pulse race. I was quiet for a moment, savoring the heat of his hand on my hand, the warmth spreading all over my body. “Yeah, you should,” I whispered, my voice lacking any real conviction.
Neither of us moved.
Nicholas’s lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just watched me, his gaze flicking to my lips, then back to my eyes. His hand inched higher, stopping just at the edge of my shorts again, as if he were waiting for a signal. And I gave him it, letting my book fall through my fingers and shifting closer toward him.
That was all it took. He leaned in, his hand sliding up my thigh as his lips captured mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs. It was slow at first, like he was testing the waters, but it didn’t take long for the tension between us to boil over. Quickly, the kiss deepened. His hands roamed, pulling me closer as I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“Tell me to go,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm on my skin.
I tugged him closer, “Stay.”
Nicholas’s weight pressed into the mattress as he rolled me over, his hands sliding along the curve of my waist and down to my hips as our legs tangled together. My fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him closer as the world outside my room melted away. Every shift of his body against mine, every brush of his fingertips against bare skin, ignited a fire I couldn’t ignore.
His lips trailed down to my jaw, slow and deliberate, sending a wave of heat rushing through me. His breath was warm against my neck, and I arched into him instinctively, feeling his body tense in response.
I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he obliged, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders, the way his muscles moved as he leaned back down, his delicate chain dangling over me, his hands framing my face like he needed to commit every detail to memory. My own hands wandered, exploring the warmth of his skin, the tension in his back as he pressed closer.
The cool air hit my skin as he slid the strap of my camisole off my shoulder, his lips replacing it with a trail of soft, heated kisses that moved to my collarbone. My heart raced as I looked up at the ceiling of my room, every sense heightened as his hands roamed lower, his touch firm but unhurried.
My breath caught in my throat as Nicholas’s lips continued their slow descent, every kiss igniting sparks along my skin. My hands moved of their own accord, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I arched into his touch. His hand slid under the hem of my camisole, his fingers splaying over my ribs as he paused to look at me, his dark brown eyes asking the silent question.
I nodded, and his lips were back on mine in an instant, the kiss growing more intense, as he bunched the fabric in his palm and pulled it off of me, leaving me bare-chested. He pulled back and drank the sight of me in, his jaw going tight as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine.
For a moment, I grew self-conscious, thinking maybe he would pull away completely now that he’s seen me half-naked. Maybe I didn’t measure up to the girls he’s been with. “Is something wrong?” I quietly asked.
Nicholas shook his head almost immediately, his forehead still resting against mine as he let out a shaky breath. His hands moved to cradle my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks as his dark brown eyes opened to meet mine. They were softer now, but no less intense.
“No, fuck no,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, like he was trying to find the right words and failing. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brown eyes locking onto mine. “You’re perfect, (Y/N). That’s the problem.”
The raw honesty in his tone made my breath hitch, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping for a moment before flicking back up to him. “Then why did you—?”
“I needed a second,” he interrupted softly, his voice almost strained as he cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin. “You’re just—you’re making it really hard to be the good guy here.”
His words sent a rush of heat through me, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched his face. “I’m not asking you to be the good guy,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.
“You sure?” he murmured against my lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because if we do this, there’s no going back. Your brother’s gonna kill me if he finds out, and I don’t—” He broke off, his jaw tightening as he pulled back to look at me again. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”
I reached up to frame his face, my thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as I held his gaze. “I want this, Nic,” I said softly, my voice steady now despite the chaos in my chest.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I really meant it. Then, with a quiet curse, he groaned quietly, like he was fighting an internal battle, before he leaned down to kiss me again. This time, it wasn’t tentative or testing — it was all-consuming.
I gasped softly into the kiss, my hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine with a heat that made it impossible to think straight. His hands slid down my sides, his touch rougher now, less restrained, like he was done holding himself back.
Nicholas’s lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and I couldn’t bite back the quiet moan that escaped me. He groaned in response, his fingers gripping my hips tightly as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Jesus, baby, you’re gonna wake the whole house,” he muttered, his voice rough and muffled against my skin.
I let out a breathless laugh, tugging on his hair to make him look at me. “You’re the one talking so much,” I shot back, my voice barely above a whisper.
His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. “Oh, is that right?” he said, his tone low and dangerous as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re the one moaning like you don’t give a shit if your brother hears us.”
My cheeks burned, and I glared at him, my hand smacking lightly against his chest. “You’re an asshole,” I muttered, but the smirk at the end of my lips betrayed any conviction I’d intended to convey.
Nicholas caught my wrist gently, grinning and clearly pleased with himself, and pinned it against the pillows above my head, “And you’re a fucking tease,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eyes. He planted a wet kiss on my lips, murmuring, “Okay, we both stay quiet then, deal?”
I bit my lip, narrowing my eyes at him, the corner of my mouth twitching with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice barely audible but dripping with playful defiance.
Nicholas’s grin deepened, and he leaned down, brushing his nose against my own before pulling back completely and resting back on his heels as his fingers trailed down to the waistband of my shorts. His fingers lingered, his touch light but deliberate as his dark brown eyes locked onto mine. His teasing smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something that made my heart pound harder than I thought possible. He hesitated for just a second, like he needed one last confirmation, and I gave him a small nod, my breath catching in my throat as I lifted my hips slightly.
He exhaled softly, almost like he was steadying himself, before he slid my shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, leaving me completely bare beneath him. The air felt cool against my skin, and I had to fight the instinct to cover myself. Instead, I forced myself to hold his gaze, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing.
Nicholas’s eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every detail to memory. He let out a quiet curse, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on my stomach and leaving lingering kisses near my navel.
My fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as I looked down at him. He rested there for a moment, his breath warm against my skin as he closed his eyes, like he needed a second to process everything.
I let out a soft laugh, the sound trembling slightly as I tugged gently on his hair. “You’re so dramatic,” I teased, my voice light but full of warmth. “Are you sure you’ve seen a girl naked before?”
He shot his head up, his eyebrows flared in surprise, and for a split second, I thought I might’ve caught him off guard. But then his smirk returned, sharper now, and he grabbed both my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head as he shifted to cover me completely. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that,” he growled playfully, his voice dropping an octave as his free hand skimmed down my side, his touch light but promising.
I squirmed under him, trying to hide the way his teasing touch was already getting to me. I don’t know what it was about Nicholas that brought out this side of me — teasing, defiant — but I loved it.
“You’re such a—” My words cut off in a gasp as he pressed his hips against mine, the sudden pressure of his sweatpants against my bare self making me lose my train of thought completely.
Nicholas chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “What was that, baby?” he murmured, his tone smug. “You were saying something?”
I glared at him, my cheeks burning, and wriggled my wrists under his palm, “Nic, the longer you’re not inside me, the more time you’re giving my brother to wake up.”
Nicholas froze, his dark eyes widening for just a second before narrowing into something almost predatory. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips turned wicked, and his grip on my wrists tightened slightly as he pressed his forehead against mine. But then, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Fine,” he murmured, his tone dropping even lower, sending a shiver down my spine.
He released my wrists, and I immediately brought my hands to his chest, letting my fingers trail over the defined muscles before sliding them down toward the waistband of his sweatpants. My heart raced, my cheeks burning as I hooked my fingers under the fabric.
Nicholas shifted slightly, propping himself on his elbows as he watched me, his dark eyes hooded with intensity. The faint smirk tugging at his lips remained as I hesitated for a moment, my fingers gripping the waistband of his sweatpants. I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and steady, as if he were daring me to go further.
Slowly, deliberately, I tugged the fabric down his hips, the soft material sliding against his skin. His muscles tensed slightly beneath my touch, and I couldn’t help the way my breath hitched as his length slipped out — ready and aching. The tension between us was palpable, the room heavy with anticipation as I pushed his sweatpants lower until they pooled around his knees.
Nicholas’s hands found my hips, his grip firm but not rough as he leaned down to kiss me again, his lips capturing mine in a way that made me forget everything else. His body pressed against mine, the heat of his skin sending a rush of warmth through me as his hands trailed up my sides, fingers skimming the sensitive skin just beneath my ribs.
For a moment, we just stayed like that, our breaths mingling as we stared at each other, the unspoken tension between us reaching its peak. Nicholas’s gaze was intense, his dark eyes searching mine as if he were asking for permission one last time.
I didn’t bother nodding. Instead, I reached to wrap my hand around his length and guide him in, to which Nicholas responded by burying his head in the crook of my neck and muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” before reaching to replace my hand with his own. “You’re so wet already.”
The air seemed to still, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of sheets and our breathing — ragged, uneven. Nicholas moved slowly at first, his grip on my hips tightening as he inserted himself into me. I let out a whimper as I felt every inch of him, the way he stretched and filled me, his warmth burning into me like a fire I never wanted to put out.
My hand found its way to his back, my nails digging lightly into his skin as I arched beneath him, a quiet gasp slipping past my lips. “Nic…” His name came out in a breathy whisper, and the sound of it seemed to spur him on. His hips moved, deliberate and measured, and every movement sent shockwaves through me.
“Baby,” he murmured into my neck, his voice strained and breathless. “You feel so fucking good.”
The heat pooling in my stomach grew with every roll of his hips, my body responding to him in a way that felt instinctual, like I had been waiting for this moment all along. His hand slid down to grip my thigh, pulling it higher around his waist as he angled himself deeper, drawing a sharp cry from me that I quickly muffled with my free hand.
“Shh,” he teased softly, his lips brushing against my ear as he chuckled, though his voice was tight with restraint. His breath was warm against my skin as he added, “You don’t want your brother barging in, do you?”
I shot him a glare through my haze of pleasure, but it was useless. Nicholas was in control now, and he knew it. The rhythm of his hips changed, slower but impossibly deeper, making it even harder to stay quiet. I bit down on my lip, my hand reaching to clutch at the sheets as waves of heat rolled through me with every deliberate thrust.
Nicholas shifted slightly, his lips brushing over my jawline before capturing my lips again in a kiss that was just as demanding as the way his body moved against mine. His free hand trailed up my side, his thumb grazing over the sensitive skin just below my ribs, making me shiver beneath him. His hand trailed further down, pressing down on my lower abdomen as if he could feel himself moving inside.
The added pressure made me gasp, my head tilting back as pleasure rippled through me, sharp and consuming, and quickly I covered my mouth again. Nicholas groaned in response, the sound low and guttural, and I realized just how loud he was getting. My heart raced, panic and desire tangling together as I reached up and pressed my other hand over his mouth, muffling the next moan that slipped from his lips.
His dark eyes widened in surprise for a split second before narrowing, a flicker of something mischievous and dangerous sparking there. His hips slowed, the deliberate roll of his body against mine making my own breathing hitch. He didn’t protest my hand, though — instead, he leaned into it, his tongue flicking out to trace along my palm teasingly, his eyes locked onto mine as if daring me to keep him quiet.
I clenched my jaw, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was useless. Every movement of his hips, every flick of his tongue against my skin, was breaking me down piece by piece. He shifted slightly, angling deeper, and I bit down hard on my lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape.
I peeled the hand I had over my mouth, “Nic,” I hissed under my breath, my voice shaking as I glared at him. “You’re impossible.”
He grinned against my hand, his dark eyes hooded and filled with heat as his hips rolled again, drawing another muffled gasp from me. His free hand slid up my thigh, gripping firmly before pulling my leg higher around his waist, allowing him to press even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, and my fingers flexed against his face as I tried to stifle my own sounds.
Nicholas groaned again, louder this time, and I pressed my hand harder against his mouth, shooting him a warning look. “Shh,” I whispered harshly, my voice trembling as I struggled to keep my own composure.
He nodded slightly, his lips brushing against my palm in silent agreement, but the way his hips moved told me he had no intention of slowing down. If anything, his pace quickened, each thrust more precise, more deliberate, as if he were testing just how far he could push me before I completely unraveled.
My hand stayed over his mouth, but I could feel the vibrations of his muffled groans against my skin, each one sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through me. My free hand clutched at his shoulder, nails digging into his skin as my body arched beneath him, helpless to the rhythm he’d set.
The tension between us was unbearable, every movement, every touch pushing me closer to the edge. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as I fought to stay quiet, to stay in control. But Nicholas wasn’t making it easy. The hand he was using to press down on my lower abdomen slipped between us, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot where our bodies met, and I couldn’t stop the sharp cry that escaped me.
His eyes flicked up to mine, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as they remained muffled against my hand. He pressed his fingers harder, circling with just enough pressure to send me spiraling. My body tensed, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure crashed over me in waves, and I had to bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. That’s when he let go of the thigh he had wrapped around his waist and guided his hand over my mouth, pressing down to muffle my sounds.
And now, we were both there, covering the other’s mouth with our hands, trying so hard to fight back our moans. All we could hear was the sounds of skin and our labored breaths blowing through our nostrils.
The room was thick with tension, every sound amplified as we moved together, muffling each other as if the act itself were part of the thrill. Nicholas’s hand covered my mouth firmly, his dark eyes locking onto mine as his hips drove deeper, more deliberate. Each thrust sent waves of heat rippling through me, my body trembling as I teetered on the edge of control.
My breaths were shallow, uneven, my free hand clutching at his shoulder as the tension in my stomach coiled tighter and tighter. His other hand slid down my thigh, pulling my leg higher around his waist to angle himself deeper, and the sensation was overwhelming. My head tilted back, the cry building in my throat muffled against his palm.
I was close — so close it felt like every nerve in my body was on fire. Nicholas must have sensed it because his pace quickened, his movements more erratic as he chased the edge with me. His lips curved into a smirk against my hand, but the dark intensity in his gaze told me he was just as affected.
When the tension snapped, it was like a dam breaking. My thighs trembled around him, my breaths coming out in sharp, uneven bursts, as I arched beneath him, a wave of pleasure crashing over me so powerful it left me shaking. Nicholas’s hand pressed tighter against my mouth, muffling the sharp cry that escaped me as I clung to him, my nails digging into his back. He groaned in response, his movements faltering as he watched me fall apart beneath him, my hand covering his mouth falling limp over my forehead.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. His hand stayed firmly over my mouth, his other sliding down to hold my hip as his pace grew erratic, desperate.
I barely had time to catch my breath before I realized he was close too. His movements grew rougher, his control unraveling as his own breathing turned ragged. The hand covering my mouth loosened slightly, and I took the opportunity to nip at his finger, earning a low growl from him as he pulled it away.
Nicholas’s eyes snapped to mine, wide with surprise. “What the hell—” he started, but I cut him off with a fierce whisper.
“You better pull out,” I hissed, my voice sharp despite the trembling in my tone.
Nicholas’s jaw tightened as my words registered, his dark eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and urgency. His breath hitched, and I could feel the tension radiating off him as he fought for control, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. “I’ve got it,” he muttered, his voice strained and low, almost as if he were trying to reassure himself as much as me.
“Nic,” I pressed, my tone firm despite the lingering haze of pleasure coursing through me. My nails raked lightly down his back, urging him to listen, to not lose himself completely.
He nodded, his movements becoming deliberate, careful. His hand shifted to grip my waist tightly, steadying himself as his breathing grew heavier. “I’m not gonna—” His words cut off with a guttural groan, and I felt his body tremble against mine, his restraint fraying with each passing second.
At the last possible moment, Nicholas pulled out with a strangled curse, his hand reaching down to finish himself. His dark eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenched as his release spilled across my stomach, warm and lingering. The sight of him unraveling like that, the raw vulnerability etched into his features, made my chest tighten.
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing, his body still hovering above mine as he tried to catch his breath. His head dipped forward, his lips brushing softly against my temple as he whispered, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, my voice catching slightly as I answered, “Yeah, I’m okay.” My hands found his shoulders, grounding both of us as he shifted to sit back on his heels. His gaze softened as it roamed over me, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret.
“I didn’t—” he started, his voice hoarse and unsteady, but I cut him off with a small smile.
“You didn’t,” I reassured him, reaching up to trace the edge of his jaw.
Nicholas exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated like before; it was gentle, filled with a quiet kind of affection that made my heart ache. When he pulled back, his fingers brushed lightly across my stomach, his touch careful and almost apologetic.
“Let me clean you up,” he murmured, his voice soft as he reached over to grab a discarded shirt, maybe mine, from the edge of the bed.
I rolled my eyes, my lips twitching in amusement as I watched him carefully clean me up, his movements surprisingly gentle despite the teasing smirk still tugging at his lips. When he was done, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my stomach, his lips lingering for just a moment before lying down beside me, pulling me into his arms without hesitation. His body was warm and solid against mine, his breathing still slightly uneven as his fingers traced idle patterns on my shoulder.
The silence that followed was thick but not uncomfortable. Nicholas’s fingers moved gently across my skin, as if he were trying to map every inch of me. My cheek rested against his chest, his heartbeat steady and grounding beneath my ear. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment, even as a thousand unspoken thoughts swirled between us.
It felt natural, lying there with him. His hand slipped to my hair, tangling in the strands softly, and I let out a contented sigh. Neither of us said anything for a long time, the stillness interrupted only by the sound of our breaths syncing together.
Nicholas was the one to break the silence, his voice low and husky. “What time is it?”
I blinked, my mind still clouded from everything that had just happened. I tilted my head toward my bedside table, squinting at the digital clock. “Almost three,” I mumbled.
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face while tightening the arm he had around me briefly before letting out a resigned sigh. “Your brother’s gonna wake up in a few hours.”
“Exactly,” I muttered, untangling myself from his arms and sitting up, “which is why you need to get out of here.”
Nicholas smirked as he sat up as well, his dark brown eyes watching me closely. “Kicking me out already?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I’m starting to feel used, baby.”
I rolled my eyes, climbing out of bed and walking past my dirty camisole that was discarded on the floor to reach into my dresser and pull out a clean shirt, “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“You’re the one that asked me to stay,” he quipped, leaning back on his hands as if he had all the time in the world.
I shot him a warning look, but it only seemed to amuse him further. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I grabbed my shorts from the floor as I walked back over to the bed and tossed them in his direction. “If you’re so eager to hang around, you can help me get dressed. I think that’s the least you can do after fucking your best friend’s sister.”
Nicholas froze for a moment, his smirk faltering as his dark eyes widened slightly at my words. A laugh escaped him, low and incredulous, as he shook his head. “Wow, you really don’t hold back, do you?”
I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Am I wrong?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed my shorts from where they landed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he beckoned me closer with a playful glint in his eyes. “Alright, princess. Let me help.”
With an exaggerated sigh, I stepped closer, though the flush creeping up my neck betrayed my nonchalance. Nicholas patted his thigh, gesturing for me to stand between his legs. His hands were warm as they slid up my calves to my thighs, holding me steady as he crouched slightly to help me into the shorts.
His movements were slow, deliberate, as he guided the fabric up my legs. He tugged the waistband gently, his thumbs brushing against my hips before snapping the shorts into place. His dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, the teasing glint softened into something quieter, something that made my heart stutter.
I reached for the clean shirt I’d left on the bed, but Nicholas beat me to it, picking it up with a smirk. “Arms up,” he instructed, his tone mockingly authoritative as he held the shirt open.
Rolling my eyes but unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips, I raised my arms, letting him slip the shirt over my head. His hands brushed against my skin as he adjusted the hem, smoothing it down over my waist. When he leaned back on his hands to admire his handiwork, his smirk returned, but it was softer now.
“There,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Good as new.”
“Thanks,” I said softly, my stomach fluttering. I bent down and reached for Nicholas’s clothes and tossed them to him.
Nicholas caught the bundle of his clothes easily, the smirk on his face growing as he stood to pull his sweatpants back on. I watched as he stuffed his dick into his sweats, my cheeks growing hot as he then slipped into his shirt. The chain around his neck glinted faintly in the dim light as he adjusted it, his dark eyes flicking back to mine.
Nicholas smiled softly, running a hand through his tousled hair as he stepped toward the bathroom door.
I followed him as he reached for the door, keeping my voice low. “Please don’t tell anyone about tonight.”
He turned to face me, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe as his smirk softened into something more genuine. “Relax, baby. Your secret’s safe with me.” The teasing lilt in his voice was gone, replaced by a quiet sincerity that made my chest tighten.
I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. “Good.”
He pushed the door open slowly, peeking into the bathroom to make sure it was still quiet on the other side. Just as he stepped through, he glanced back over his shoulder, his smirk returning in full force. He winked, disappearing into the bathroom with a quiet click of the door.
I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door as the reality of everything that had just happened settled over me.
My skin still tingled everywhere he’d touched me, his hands, his lips, the way his voice had dropped when he whispered my name. It all replayed in my head, over and over and over. With a deep breath, I turned back to my bed, doing a horrible job of biting back the smirk on my lips.
I should’ve been panicking — thinking about what my brother would do if he found out, but all I could feel was a heady mix of excitement and disbelief. I had just slept with Nicholas, my brother’s best friend.
#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez x fem!reader#nicholas alexander chavez rpf#nicholas alexander chavez imagine#nicholas alexander chavez fanfic#nicholas alexander chavez fic#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas alexander chavez x fem!reader#fic-o-meter
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Helloo, hope your well! In celebration of Leah’s comeback can we get a smut fic 😁
I was thinking the context could be based on Leah’s girlfriend treating her to a massage that maybe turns sexual bcs Leah gets intensely turned on. Could the fic be mainly Leah receiving but not necessarily being overly submissive (maybe just in the middle idk). Could u include tribbing, Leah receiving from a vibrator maybe? Plus whatever else you’d like to include.
And in terms of the context of it being after her comeback game, you can explain and include that however you’d like :)
Louder than the crowd
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Pure smut pretty much - long build up - tiny bit of fluff?
Word Count: 1,433
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“I’m so fucking proud of you” you whisper to Leah, your hands holding both sides of her face. Your body stretched over the barricade on the side of the pitch. You both give each other small kisses, eyes glossed over, before engulfing each other in the tightest hug, risking popping her shoulder next. “I’m going to make you scream a lot louder than that crowd did tonight”. You both smirk at each other before leaning in again.
-
Leah’s family and you decided to take Leah out for a celebratory dinner after the game at a local pub. By the time you both arrived home, you could tell Leah was exhausted. Her body was slumping, and she moved slowly.
She sat on the couch, feet on the coffee table, you looked over at her and sighed. You began to walk over to her and straddled her lap. “Well, hello there” she smiles.
“Hi,” you smile back. You lean in and exchange a few slow kisses before you pull back. “What do you think of some wine and a massage?” you smirk and play with the baby hairs on the back of her neck.
“Oh baby, I’m sorry but I’m far too tired to give you a massage tonight, maybe tomorrow?” she sighs.
“No, you idiot, for you” You laugh at her absurdity.
“Oh! Well in that case, yes fucking please”.
“Off you go upstairs then, take your clothes off, I’ll meet you up there”.
“You sure this is just a massage babe?” she raises an eyebrow, you wink at her, tapping her bum to signal her to go.
-
You’ve set the room up, lights off, multiple candles lit, oil on the go, a playlist of slow sensual music playing through the speaker, and an almost naked Leah laid stomach down on your bed. You walk over towards the bed and trace your fingers over your girlfriend's toned back. She twists her neck to look back at you and smiles. You move your fingertips to trace the laced red underwear she wears and continue to slowly guide along her hip bone. You make eye contact with her and smile before slowly straddling her ass.
You’re dressed in short but loose bed shorts, and an oversized t-shirt belonging to the blonde underneath you. You lean forward, placing your hands on the bed, either side of Leah’s shoulders and move your face down to softly kiss her left shoulder. You continue on, extremely slow to her right, then move to the middle and up the back of her neck. You hear Leah’s breath turn shaky and you smile against her skin. You lift yourself back upright and begin to turn over the bottle of oil you’ve had lying next to you. “I heated this up a little bit so it shouldn’t be too cold”, you tell her before squeezing lines of oil over her back. You decide to get creative and squeeze it into a love heart, softly smiling before placing the bottle down.
You start to smooth the oil over Leah’s still summer-tanned skin. The oil is warm and so is Leah. The sight of your hands gliding over her muscled back cause you to roll your hips on her ass ever so slightly.
As you begin to apply pressure to her shoulders you feel Leah let out a sigh. You continue on her back for about ten minutes before you decide to move to her legs. Before you do, you run your hands along her sides, grazing the side of her boobs before meeting her waist and eventually her hips. Leah lets out a muffled moan and wiggles around a little. You slide your hands down her ass, then all the way to her ankles.
You begin her leg massage at the bottom of her calves, moving up and increasing pressure, you feel Leah relax into your touch, and you can tell how much it is helping. You are soft around the back of her knees and then move towards her thighs.
Before beginning you spread her legs a little wider, to allow you more access to her thighs. You see Leah’s groin push itself subtly into the mattress and you giggle to yourself. You once again squeeze strands of oil onto the back of her thighs and rub it in with pressure. Leah seemed to be relaxed until you eventually moved to her inner thighs. She began to squirm, a lot. “Baby, stay still,” you tell her.
“Mmhh” she grunts back.
“Do you want me to do here as well?” you whisper in her ear, cupping her ass, leaning on her back. Her breath almost stops.
“Oh fuck” she mumbles.
“Is that yes, my love?
“Y/n, I think you know the answer to that”, you smirk at her words and grab the laced red covering her ass, pulling it down till it is discarded on the floor. You immediately notice her incredibly wet pussy and watch as it begins to drip onto the sheets. You bite your lip hard and return to the massage, kneading your hands into her ass. After about 20 seconds of slow kneading and lots of grunts from the blond's mouth she reaches her hand behind her back to meet yours and directs it to feel how wet she is. You move your fingers around slowly, spreading it all over until you suddenly slap one of her cheeks and flip her over to her back.
She looks up at you, now straddling her crotch. You keep eye contact and slowly lick your fingers, tasting her. She bites her lip and reaches her hands out to touch the bottom of your (her) shirt. She tilts her head up signalling you to take it off. You follow her command and lift the shirt over your head. You lean down once again and slowly hover your chest over her face. She places one hand on your waist and the other on your left boob. She licks across your breast slowly before softly biting your nipple. She runs her left hand down your back while she begins to suck, before moving to your right and repeating the same action. You move your face to hover over hers and attach your lips. You both begin to get more passionate, Leah’s tongue inserting itself into your mouth. She moves around your mouth, as you do hers, both of you grinding into each other. She pulls back, “take these off” she whispers, pulling at your shorts. Which you do immediately, removing yourself off the bed and slowly dragging your shorts and underwear to the floor.
As you move back onto the mattress you position yourself on your knees in between Leah’s legs. You smile at her and look down at the beautiful woman beneath you. Running your hands from her collarbone to her hipbone you let out a shocked sigh at just how sexy she is. You lock eyes with her again, before lifting her right leg up over your shoulder, shifting yourself further towards her. You then slowly begin to lift your right leg over her left, holding eye contact with her, as her breaths quicken.
As soon as you lower yourself, you’re met with the wet centre of your girlfriend. The contact makes you gasp, and you immediately need more. You begin to roll your hips slowly into her, both of you incredibly wet, filling the room with the sound of you two against one another. You feel Leah begin to start grinding as well. As you both continue grinding into one another, your wetness spreading across both of your thighs, moans begin to fill the room. You tilt your head back and Leah places her hand on your hip, forcing you to move faster. You move one of your hands to her tit and squeeze hard. “Good girl baby, keep going, fuck”, you grunt. You keep grinding, harder and harder, and so does she.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” she screams. “Keep going, yes, fuck!”
“I’m gonna cum baby, cum with me, please, come on” she speaks through moans.
You both speed up, your sheets almost as wet as you are now.
“I’m cumming, fuck! Ugh! Yes! Fuck…God…oh fuck” She moans, along with you as you both cum against each other, both of you so wet its slipping into each other. “God you’re so fucking good” she pants. You smile at her before moving up to peck her lips.
“I told you I’d make you scream louder than the crowd”, you smile against her.
“Shhhh” she whispers, leaning into you once again.
-
A/n: I know this is wayyy past her comeback but lets pretend -
I’m sorry I didn’t include the vibrator I thought it was getting a little long, but if you'd like to send in another request for a different circumstance where you want the vibrator, I’m more than happy to write it! Hope you all enjoyed!
As always, kind feedback along with any questions or discussion points are always welcome in my inbox :)
#leah williamson#awfc#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#wlw#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso one shot#lionesses
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A New Beginning With You | Lee Juyeon
SUMMARY: it has been a couple of years since you and your childhood best friend, Juyeon, went on your separate ways. Years later, you were given the opportunity to return to Seoul to pursue a new career, only to find out that your new employer is the one you have been dreading to see. Will you toss away all of the emotions again, or will you finally come to terms and fix this broken relationship with him?
PAIRING: ceo!Juyeon x f!reader
GENRE: office au, ex-childhood friends to lovers, coming of age, angst, fluff
WARNINGS: nc-17, slow-burn, this is pretty angsty ngl 😭, betrayal, several heart wrenching moments (it takes a while for both Juyeon and reader to figure out their emotions), language (one curse word), miscommunication, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk a couple of times, several heated arguments, petnames (princess, sweetheart), kissing
WORD COUNT: 15,466
A/N: here is my submission for deoboyznet's holiday exchange event!! boo @cloverdaisies i'm your secret santa 🎅👀 ngl i did struggle with the prompts that you gave mainly cs i don't usually read/watch coming of age works so i hope i did this fic justice 🥹🥹🥹 big big shoutout to @momhwa-agenda for choosing the banner, also helping me to beta read (along with @from-izzy @juyeonszn) sending my unending kisses and hugs to all of you 😘💕
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Seven years ago
“What do you mean you’re leaving?”
It all just felt so sudden, and you weren’t sure if you were hallucinating as you heard those words that came out from the mouth of your best friend for the past seventeen years. You both have made a promise to one another since you both were in kindergarten that no matter how big or small the situation may be, you both will always have each other’s backs and that no secrets were to be kept from one another, even if they may feel like you have been punched right into the face during the aftermath of it all.
Or that was what you thought.
“Y/N…I had no control over anything…you do know how my father often has to travel across the globe for his job—”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that you decided to keep it a secret from me when you first discovered that you were potentially going to follow your father’s footsteps for his company.”
From the beginning, you knew that Juyeon’s father worked at a relatively elite corporate company. Because of his status, he was often sent away to various countries to fulfill his job. It has been decades since his father has been in and out of Seoul, and he would often travel on his own not wanting to bother his family and wanting them to have a peaceful life here.
Never in a million years would you have thought that he would bring his entire family along with him as he starts a new chapter in his life in the States, and also get Juyeon to follow in his father’s footsteps.
You were on the verge of crying, your cheeks were heating up, and you had unintentionally balled up your fists, clearly failing terribly to suppress the anger and betrayal you felt.
“I just don’t get it, Juyeon. You have always wanted to pursue basketball. Hell, you have even sought a sports scholarship to get into one of the prestigious universities in Seoul! Why are you giving up now?” You huffed.
You could tell that he was showing some reluctance in his answer, and truthfully, he didn’t really know how to give you an answer, either. But he decided to reply in the most plausible and fitting one that was right for the current situation you both were in.
“Family has to always come first, Y/N. If it were for my family's future, especially my stay-at-home mother and younger brother, I would do anything to ensure my father and I can provide for them.”
You scoffed. “Bullshit.”
You took a few steps forward until you were merely inches apart. Looking straight into Juyeon’s eyes, you could tell he felt the same way and was also trying to hold back his tears.
“You’re not the Juyeon I know. My Juyeon, who has been right by my side ever since we were kids, would always go above and beyond to work for what he truly wants. He is never afraid to voice his opinion, and he would do anything to ensure his happiness would be fulfilled no matter the consequences.”
Finally, the tears that you have held back for so long began dripping down your face as you began to hit him simultaneously on his chest.
“What exactly happened to you, Juyeon?”
At the same time, tears clouded his vision as a single teardrop dripped onto his face. You could tell that something was holding him back from telling you the truth, if any, and his following answer would break you down even more.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
With that, a black car pulls up at the school entrance, revealing his younger brother rolling down the window to call out for his big brother. You could see multiple pieces of luggage lined up at the back trunk of the car, and they were ready to head straight to the airport.
With a glance back to signal to his family that he would be coming shortly, he turned to you to apologise once more before gently pushing you away to leave.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I wish you all the best in your future as you enter university and eventually the workforce.”
Just like that, Juyeon quickly sped down the stairs and opened the door to the car before settling in. Within seconds, his parents, sitting in the front seats, gave you a little wave before they drove away right through the exit.
Almost instantly, all of the built-up tension was suddenly released from you all at once, and you finally broke down crying at the entrance of your high school. What you thought would be a memorable, happy graduation for you both as you parted ways with your youth years turned out to be one sad separation from your best friend.
You both planned your summer holidays with one another before officially enrolling in university in the autumn. You were going to head to Busan for a five-day trip during the first month, going to visit your aunt who lived on the outskirts of Seoul to help her in her fieldwork (especially when she has a soft spot for Juyeon), and even going to visit all of the bazaars that were going to be held in central Seoul.
There were so many potential activities and times you could have had with one another, and you were even planning to propose to Juyeon that you wanted to be more than just childhood friends.
Because you have been having an insane crush on him since you were kids, and you realised it was love by the time you both entered high school.
Unfortunately, it was too late to confess your love to him, as he was now long gone, heading straight to the airport before he eventually said his final goodbye to his home for the past seventeen years, Seoul.
Maybe it was fate that you both were just not meant to be with one another; perhaps it was why his father had no choice but to bring his whole family with him to start a new life in the States.
For the first time, you cursed and blamed yourself for having such hope and planning a potential future with someone who was clearly out of your league, and you thought it had all been a waste of time since the beginning.
With that, the little needle-felted cat you have been hiding and made last night was released from your grips as he fell towards the stairs and eventually towards the ground. As you noticed, more tears kept welling up in your eyes, and you brought both hands to cover your face, not wanting to care about anything right now.
I shouldn’t have had so much hope. I was stupid enough actually to fall in love with you, Juyeon.
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Present Day
“Oh, Y/N! Looks like your article just got published in the London Mail this morning!”
Your co-worker gave you a little pat on the back before he placed the newspapers right onto your desk, and it was clear how your article was published right on the front page with your name written very obviously at the right corner.
“Please, it was nothing. It’s what I do all the time,” you replied bluntly.
“What do you mean it was nothing? You just interviewed the rising actor of the month! That’s big news, and you deserve to celebrate it!"
“Please, it really is nothing—”
“Hey everyone, our department needs a little night out after work at the local pub! We’re toasting to Y/N’s big break in the news today!”
Your co-worker shouted out loud, and eventually, cheers erupted in the office, everyone congratulating you and thinking about the potential drinks and songs they would go for once work is over.
You smiled and chuckled at the sight. You have always loved your job and are grateful to have met such a fantastic group of people in this company.
It wasn’t your dream to pursue the path of becoming a reporter in the beginning. Sure, you have always had a passion for writing, but you have always considered it your hobby. Thanks to your sister, who was studying abroad in Manchester then, who convinced you to take that leap of faith and turn that hobby into a potential job.
So here you were, living the best of your life. You followed your sister’s footsteps and went on to live abroad in the UK, enrolling in the University of Manchester, where you successfully graduated with honours the past year. Thankfully, you secured a place in the London Mail right after graduation due to your outstanding grades.
The move from Manchester to London was a bit tough, but you initially managed to pull through with your sister and her boyfriend's help. They were kind enough to help you settle down and stayed with you for the first couple weeks before returning to Manchester. You miss your sister’s presence, but you know that eventually, you had to venture out on your own and face reality as an adult.
It has been a year, and you have adapted to living alone. Often, things would get tough, but it was also thanks to you having such a fantastic team of colleagues that you were able to pull through it all, even when there were times you had to work overtime to fulfill all of the datelines that were pilling up nonstop, especially during the holiday seasons.
It wasn’t until recently that your article was accepted and published on the main cover page of the news, and that was when you finally earned your big break after a year. The company has deemed you to be one of the most talented youngsters they have had over the past decade, and they were more than happy to have had you as their employee.
Since then, things have settled down for you as you got a pay rise and had fewer hours to give you more time to rest well, mainly when you only survived with four to five hours of sleep daily. Now, you can eat your breakfast correctly and get a good seven to eight hours of sleep before coming every day.
Just as your co-workers were having the time of their lives trying to figure out the plans for tonight after work, your office desk telephone rang, and you picked it up hastily, thinking that you’d have another big scoop to write about
But it was from the CEO.
“Miss Y/N, please report to my office immediately.”
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You were back home after that fun night out at your local pub with your co-workers, holding a beer in hand as you FaceTime your sister over the phone.
“Well, it’s a good opportunity for you, don’t you think, Y/N?”
“I’m not too sure about all of this, sis. Like yeah, it would be great that I would be back home, but still—”
“Hey, I know mom would be ecstatic to have you back in Seoul with her. And it just so happened that you have been telling me how you recently began feeling a little homesick. I’d say it would be great for you to take up the offer.” She reassured.
It was the moment your mouth fell open wide when you heard that you had been offered to be a senior reporter for one of Seoul’s top magazines at the moment, GQ Korea, where you would be interviewing potentially all of the current well-known celebrities in the country and getting a higher pay as well.
It seems that they have come across your contributions from the London Mail, and they were keen to have you on their team. Your first thought was grateful as your works were recognised globally, but also because you miss being home. But another part of you has already settled in the UK, so you weren’t sure if leaving now would be the right choice.
But now that your sister has given you some input, that was when you knew that it wouldn’t hurt to try it out, at the very least.
With one final sip of your beer, you leaned forward and gave your sister a smile for the first time since calling her this evening.
“I’m going home now, sis.”
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It has been a week since you settled into Seoul, and you have loved being back in your comfort zone: the culture, the food, and the environment you grew up in.
Your mom was overjoyed as she picked you up from the airport, insisting she would take your luggage, especially when you have flown almost twenty-four hours just to get home. By the time you got home, your mom was already ready and prepared with all the dishes she had premade before your arrival and needed to heat them quickly.
You quickly took a shower before joining her at the dining table. You both chatted for close to midnight before she told you she would sleep ahead of you. Meanwhile, you decided to clean up your childhood bedroom to make space for everything you brought back from London.
There was this nostalgia as you entered your room; everything was still the same, exactly how you had left it when you left for the UK years ago. The same old blue painting on the wall, all your posters hung on them, even your favourite comic books that were still arranged nicely on your bookshelf.
You could tell there wasn’t a speck of dust in the room, indicating that your mom must have cleaned it occasionally. You couldn’t help but sigh, thinking about all the hard work she always puts herself through.
It took you a while to go through all your belongings, mainly because you were reminiscing as you looked at the pictures, books, and figurines scattered throughout your room.
It wasn’t until you came across a box tucked away at the corners of your room that you pulled them out towards the centre as you opened them up.
And god, you wished you hadn’t done that.
All the pictures and items contained memories you had with your past lover, Lee Juyeon.
You paused momentarily before reaching out to pick up the first item on top of the box: a picture.
It was taken when you both were in kindergarten. You were holding hands, wearing backpacks and little yellow helmets on your heads. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight; it was nostalgic and cute.
Right after that, you took out a pair of bracelets right below the picture. It was a friendship bracelet that you both made during middle school. It was summer when you recently discovered the trend of making friendship bracelets, where you went straight to Juyeon’s house across the street, practically dragged him back to your house, and got him to make one with you. You giggled at the thought of how Juyeon was so lost at the time, having to come to you almost every five seconds to tell you that he had either lost a piece or was having trouble threading the beads through the string.
When you thought it would all be good memories, you stumbled upon the one item you wished you would not have to see again.
The needle-felted cat you made for him on the night before graduation.
Unbeknownst to you, your hands began to tremble as you took the cat into your hands, staring at it as the memories flashed back: how you would give this to Juyeon and tell him that you were ready to be more than just close friends, up to the point of how he suddenly announced to you that he was leaving for good.
Slowly, you felt that your tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, and you quickly dumped all of the items back into the box and tucked them back in the corner, using a few items you had in your room, such as cardboard to block it completely out of sight.
You were not ready to go through all of the roller coasters of emotion once again.
Especially when deep down in your heart, you still had some feelings left for him. Even if you did not wish to admit it out loud.
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You stood outside the tall building as you tried your best to fix up the blazer that your mum insisted you put on for your big day. With your handbag and laptop, you gave yourself a deep breath before mentally preparing yourself that this would be your new workplace from now on.
You looked to see the vast sign plastered outside the building: GQ Korea. You were definitely at the right place. It took you a few seconds to finally be able to take your very first steps into the building. Once you did, you were amazed at the astonishing art that filled the reception floor. It was a fashion and art magazine; after all, there was no doubt that the company's directors entailed such a choice of decorations to captivate everyone who walked into their building.
You walked straight towards the counter, where you were greeted by two ladies who were already expecting your arrival. Immediately, they got you signed up in the system, and one guided you to one of the fifth floors, where you would be meeting your new team and department that you would be working with.
As you were guided into the head of the department’s office, Ms Kim, who has been guiding and overlooking this particular department for the past five years, greeted you and made you feel comfortable instantly, which made all of your tensed-up muscles relax fairly quickly. She communicated well with you and, surprisingly, even shared some of the same ideals as you did. You were beyond grateful to hear when she mentioned that she has kept up with your works from the London Mail, and it was about time that the team needed someone like you.
Once both of you had taken the time to break the ice, Ms Kim led you to your desk just outside her office, where countless cubicles filled the entire floor. At first glance, you have estimated that there were about fifty employees who worked in this department. It didn’t take them long to greet you personally before you eventually made your way to your desk in the middle of the floor.
As you unloaded your bag of materials onto the desk and placed them in an organised manner, your hands digging through your bag finally stopped when you felt a familiar material. Instantly, you pulled it out to check what it was, and you were once again left speechless with what it was.
A picture of you and Juyeon back during your graduation from high school.
The only plausible reason it was in your workbag was because of your mother. You have never once told her that things ended badly between you both, and you have always shrugged off the fact that you were still keeping in touch with the man himself and that you both were still having a healthy friendship. You just didn’t want her to worry much, especially when she knew how much you both have been through, and she practically treated Juyeon like her own son.
As all loving mothers would do, she woke up hours ahead of you this morning to prepare you a filling bento box. She wrapped it with traditional cloth and placed it neatly into your work bag. At the same time, she probably put the little picture frame into the bag, hoping it would motivate you during work and decorate your new workplace.
With just a few seconds of staring at it, you looked down to see an empty trash bin that sat right beneath your work desk, and without thinking much, you immediately placed the picture right into it.
I’m sorry, mom. But I will not be needing it anymore.
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Your first week of work flew by quickly as you easily got used to the working lifestyle. Seoul was your home, and it wasn’t hard to adapt back to the culture. In fact, you were grateful that your new group of co-workers could be on par with the ones back in London; they were all as great and supportive in helping you ease into the new environment. Your new co-workers even encouraged you to head out for a little drink at the local izakaya restaurant after work since it has been a long weekend for everyone, and you surely did enjoy the little company you had before heading home a little after midnight.
In terms of fitting in as GQ Korea's new reporter, it has been a thrilling ride learning about all of the entertainment biz that has been going on in the country. Since your forte was with celebrities, your head of department had assigned you the same, focusing on the rising K-Pop stars in the industry.
It has been a while since you kept up with Korean celebrities since you mainly focused on Western artists abroad for a couple of years. But as you kept up with the news and made sure to read the newspaper first thing every morning you came right in, you made sure that you have been kept up to date with all of the latest announcements and events that have been going on in the industry.
Today was a big day for you as Ms Kim had instructed you to head up to the top floor, where you would first meet up with the CEO for the very first time since joining the company as he would like to brief you through the details in regards to the celebrities that will be coming later in the day.
You thought it was probably some hotshot celeb for the CEO to personally guide you through each step regarding what or how you should deal with them. However, you weren’t too mad since you figured they probably did things differently here in Seoul.
As you finally reached the top floor, you were then escorted by whom you assumed to be the CEO’s personal assistant, who was already expecting your arrival as they kindly let your head department know that she was free to leave. The walk down the hallway towards the CEO’s office seemed a little daunting to you for some reason; perhaps it was also because you were meeting someone who is considered to be one of the famous people in the heart of Seoul—there’s a reason why GQ Korea is always on the top-selling markets.
As the assistant kindly knocked on the door and got a verbal cue from the other side, she took a step behind to let you move forward as you slowly turned the doorknob to enter the room.
Immediately, you notice how the entire office is decorated extravagantly, filled with tons of high-end decorations that suit the taste of the CEO himself. The wide, clear windows dominated most of the room, offering a panoramic cityscape view. A curated selection of artwork filled the walls, which added a little personal touch to the working space.
You didn’t realise that your mouth was wide open as you slowly took in the mesmerising view until you turned towards the desk, where the CEO was sitting on his chair with his back facing you, flipping through multiple documents in his hands.
As you slowly made your way towards him, your little footsteps made the CEO’s ears perk up, causing the man to stand up and finally turn to face you in person for the first time.
With that, your entire world seemed to pause for a moment.
What exactly was going on? There was no way this young man could be the CEO, especially when you were certain that he had left Seoul years ago and sworn that his chances of returning to his homeland would be close to zero. Your laptop in hand was slowly beginning to slip off before you were brought back to reality and quickly caught it before it eventually hit the ground.
That was when you finally muttered your first words since stepping into the CEO’s office.
“J-Juyeon…?”
It was pretty evident that the man himself was just as confused and shocked as you were; he practically stood there motionless, trying his best to make sense of the current situation.
“Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“I should be the one asking you that,” you replied.
You were about to go haywire just from this interaction alone. It was hard enough for you to move on from what happened seven years ago, and it proved to be a lot harder than you thought when you came back a few weeks ago to see that all of the things that you’ve tried so hard to forget were now back in the comforts of your bedroom.
Ever since then, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t want anything to do with Juyeon anymore, and you have decided to shut your heart regarding anything related to the man himself.
If only it were easier said than done.
Juyeon finally took his first step away from his desk as he slowly approached you, extending his hand as if he was craving your touch again. You could tell that he was desperate for a little physical contact, perhaps to prove that you really stood in front of him.
But you couldn’t, and you weren’t ready for any of that, so you backed off instead, giving him a clear signal that you weren’t on the same page as he was.
There was this evident sadness in his eyes, and he tried his best to hold back his tears as his eyes began to water.
“Y/N…I—”
“Miss L/N. You can address me that, Mr. Lee,” you bluntly replied before diverting your attention to the ground.
It was when Juyeon finally got himself together and straightened his posture before clearing his throat. “Very well, Miss L/N. I’ll quickly brief you on the events happening today, with the group of celebrities arriving in a couple of hours soon. Please, have a seat.”
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“I hate him, I really do!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you took the pint of beer in your hands before slamming it down onto the table. Your sister had to restrain you from causing a scene at the bar, trying to settle you down and handing you a glass of water to chug down your system.
Your sister had just recently came back to Seoul for a little vacation, and you immediately asked that she could keep you accompany down at the local izakaya restaurant that you often visited to let off some steam.
“Karma is really on your side huh, Y/N,” your sister teased.
“I-It’s not funny, sissy….” your voice began to slur, indicating that you were starting to get drunk at this point. “Why…of all people, why?! Why did it have to be him? As my boss! In my new workplace!”
“Look, it can’t be that bad. Who knows, maybe you might get another chance again with him.”
“That’s not the point, sissy….after what he has done to me? After all that I have done to try my best to move on from the past? This should not be happening to me at all!” Your voice broke as you began tearing up, causing your sister to pull you close into her embrace, slowly caressing your back to help soothe you a little.
Your sister was well aware of your history with Juyeon, especially when you’ve spent weeks, which eventually that turned into months of crying out to her over the phone since she was already studying abroad then, she knew how much the whole situation wrecked you badly, to the point that it has taken you months to start going out and meeting people outside of university eventually.
She was there when you were both younger, seeing how you developed a crush on him later and knowing you weren’t just childhood friends and had something way more than that. It was a shame that Juyeon left without telling you, and she would’ve gone to the airport to confront him about it if only she had been back in Seoul then. But deep down, she knew Juyeon as much as you did and knew that suddenly, something probably came up for him to leave the country like that.
As a matter of fact, your sister had always wished and rooted for you both to become a couple eventually; she had always been a firm believer of childhood friends to lovers anyway, especially when that was how she ended up with her current fiancé. Now that you both have reunited in the most unexpected way, she believes her theory about you both eventually having a second chance was stronger than ever before.
With that, she lifted her eyebrows as if she had just come up with a brilliant idea. “Say, little sis. What exactly are you up to at work tomorrow?”
You sniffled. “Umm…I guess I have a meeting with Juyeon to discuss the upcoming fashion show that is due to be set in a couple of months. Why do you ask?”
Your sister gave you a little smirk in return before cradling you like a baby again. “Oh, it was nothing. I’m sure you’ll have a fruitful discussion tomorrow.”
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You dreaded coming to work today. The very first reason is that you woke up with a really bad hangover from last night, and you practically don’t remember much that has happened besides chugging down pints of beer from your system. It has been a while since you’ve drank this much, and most importantly, because you were upset over something. Otherwise, you were pretty much sober most of the time and always being the one to drag your co-workers home because they were far worse than you were.
And, of course, it was also because you hated the idea that you must come face-to-face with your so-called ex-childhood best friend again—this time, in an actual meeting. Well, in some ways, you were glad that it was only a meeting for a potentially massive event that the company had been known to host for years and that Juyeon would probably be able to distinguish between personal and work-life issues.
But still, you just weren’t ready to face him again, especially with the huge shock you’d received the day before. It was already hard enough for you to stay focused when Juyeon briefed you through your job scope and the meeting you would have for the day, trying your best not to let the tears drip down nor let the anger boil up.
However, you had no choice since you must also stay professional at your work. You just got back to Korea, and there was no way you would chicken out and move everything back to the UK again. Well, potentially, you could, but it wouldn’t be an ethical move to make.
So here you are, hugging your documents and laptop towards your chest, standing outside the meeting room. You had to take a few deep breaths before you could muster up the courage to turn the doorknob and enter the room.
Once you did, you noticed how the entire room was filled up, with most of your co-workers in their designated seats, sorting through the documents they would use for the meeting. You immediately diverted your attention towards the front where Juyeon was seated, and you hated how you had actually spent a good minute admiring his features.
He wore a simple beige coat over a white tee, paired with a pair of black slim pants with leather shoes. His black hair was styled all the way back, leaving a little strand of hair down on his forehead. He was busy flipping through his documents while setting up his laptop to project the PowerPoint slides for everyone to see.
You just hated how extremely good-looking he was right now and that there was a high chance that you wouldn’t concentrate on your work throughout the next hour.
And how you would actually want to run into his embrace and give him a little peck on the lips—
Wait, what?
As Juyeon finally lifted his head from the monitor and looked at everyone else in the room, it was a sign that the meeting was about to commence, and you quickly took the still available seat, the front seat.
Throughout the presentation, you tried your best to take in everything that Juyeon- well, your CEO, was trying to convey to his employees. It turns out that this upcoming fashion show would be one of the most crucial ones the company has ever done for years, especially now that all the big brands are willing to collaborate with GQ Korea and put out the best fashion show in the country.
It was quite a breathtaking look to see how Juyeon was passionate about his job, talking and explaining each detail to his employees carefully while making it enjoyable for everyone to learn or be part of. With that, you have noticed how every single employee in the room was constantly taking down details as quickly as lightning, making sure not to miss out on any small detail. There were moments when some would raise their hands to ask further questions, and Juyeon was more than happy to answer them, making the whole meeting seem less stressful but instead quite engaging in return.
There were times when you found yourself staring at him more than you should’ve, and every time he diverted his attention towards you, you would quickly duck your head down to look back at your laptop as if you were busy typing away on your notes.
Time seemed to have passed quickly as Juyeon finally wrapped up the meeting and let everyone off. In fact, the meeting ended right at the dot, and it was just past noon, meaning it was lunchtime for all employees. Everyone was quick to dash through the door, their stomach grumbling after using up all of the energy for the meeting. For you, you decided to pack up your belongings at your own pace, knowing that you would be spending your lunch back at your cubicle with the little bento box your mother had packed for you this morning.
As you are about to head straight for the door, the familiar voice stops you in your tracks, making you turn your head back to face the man himself.
“Miss L/N, I would like to have a word with you.”
Oh, god. It’s here.
Mentally, you were cursing out all the vulgar words you knew at the back of your mind as you slowly approached your CEO, trying your best not to let out the croak in your voice.
“Y-Yes, may I help you, Mr Lee?”
“There is a place that I have to pay a short visit, and I would like you to keep me company.”
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Whenever an employer or the CEO would address their employees to keep them company as they pay a visit to a certain location, it usually meant that it was to meet up with a client or to survey certain products or places that could significantly be crucial for the company’s success.
But here you were, sitting in one of the fancy cafes that wasn’t far from the office, having lunch with your CEO, who was sitting in front of you.
Juyeon said nothing along the way as he brought you to the cafe, insisting that you sit down and order from the menu with no questions asked. As awkward as it was, you were about to deny his request before he looked straight down towards the menu, not even glancing at you.
You figured this was probably part of the job, and there was no way you would deny your CEO’s request right here and then, especially when it was working hours and everything was strictly business.
Once both of you have made your orders to the waitress that just passed by a minute ago, you diverted your attention towards the tablecloth, not wanting to look straight at Juyeon. However, his deep voice caught your attention, and you lifted your head back up after hearing the words you had wanted to say for the past seven years.
“I think it’s about time I told you the truth, Y/N.”
Oh, he called you by your name.
As you focus your attention right on him, you can see the sadness in his eyes once more, just like how it was back when you first encountered him in his office the day before.
“Umm…with due respect Mr Lee—”
“Juyeon is fine. We’re outside of work, Y/N. I would appreciate it if you could talk to me like we used to, and I will do the same,” he responded, slowly resting his arms on the tablecloth as if he were leaning slightly closer to you.
With that you took a significantly big gulp, knowing that the day you longed for was finally here. You were about to get the answers you desperately needed to know, but at the same time, you weren’t so sure if you wanted to know the truth right now, especially with all of the things that you have gone through trying your best to take him out of your life completely.
“Will you please give me a chance to listen to what I have to say?” He pleaded, looking at you with a desperate look in his eyes.
Your gut and mind were trying to tell you that you have done your best to completely eliminate him in your life for the past seven years. Would you give up easily and open your enclosed heart just like that? After all of the hard work that you have done?
Say no, Y/N. You have gotten over the guy. It’s all over between you two—
“Yeah. Go on.”
Goddammit, Y/N.
Immediately, his eyes lit up upon your words, and his shoulders slumped down a little, indicating that he has relaxed a bit.
“Oh, thank god, Y/N. I guess you were still the same old Y/N that I remembered—”
“You said we’re not employers and employees now, so I’d say cut to the chase with what you have to say while you can, Juyeon,” you bluntly replied as you crossed your arms around you.
In return, Juyeon gave you a little weak smile and a sigh before he eventually diverted his full attention to you.
“Remember when we got separated back in high school? During our graduation day, you—”
“You left me behind, Juyeon.”
“I didn’t have a choice back then, Y/N. But now I’m here to tell you everything. You have no idea how our stomach dropped when my father came home and told us that his company was about to go bankrupt, and we were on the verge of losing everything.”
So that was what happened.
“And how it was also the day my mother found out that she had cancer and her chances of recovery were lower than expected.”
“J-Juyeon…w-why didn’t you tell me all of this?”
“I wanted to. I really wanted to so badly, Y/N. Because you’re my best friend, and you deserve to know everything. But I just didn’t know how to, and I was afraid of what might happen, and I don’t want to put the pressure on you.”
“W-Where are they now, then?”
Juyeon had to take in a big breath before choosing his following words wisely, knowing it must’ve been hard to even talk about it publicly. “Mom became bedridden, and she’s still receiving treatment in one of the hospitals back in the States. Dad is currently running a small little shop near the hospital along with my little brother.”
“Then, why did you come back here?”
“I came back because starting a proper company there was tough. I figured there might be a slight chance things could work out here in Seoul. With the remaining funds we had, I eventually begged my dad to give his final trust in me as I found a way to make things work out. Luckily, we had some acquaintances back here, and they helped me get into one of the prestigious universities and eventually landed me a job here at GQ Korea. I started as a normal employee before I eventually became their CEO a year prior.”
It was then you noticed a single teardrop on the verge of dripping down his face from the corners of his eyes. Naturally and unbeknownst to you, your hand reached for the tissues placed neatly on the table, and you leaned in to wipe away that single teardrop.
Only then did you both realise what you were doing, and that was when your eyes widened, and you were about to prop down back to your seat.
That was until Juyeon grabbed your wrist, not wanting to let you go.
“This teardrop is nothing, Y/N. I’m so sorry you have to see this side of me. It’s not very cool, I guess,” he chuckled, trying his best to lighten up the mood a bit.
As soon as he says those words, your other free hand eventually finds itself on Juyeon’s shoulders, causing the male’s eyes to widen this time before you finally speak out the words that you have always wanted to tell straight to his face all those years ago.
“Juyeon, you need to start learning to put yourself before others. And I really mean it.”
“Y/N, I—”
“No buts. Even after all these years, you’re still the same as before, always prioritising others before your own. As much as you are the most kind-hearted soul I’ve ever seen, you need to start loving and giving yourself some credit,” you replied, adding a little pressure onto your grip on his shoulders.
With that, none of you said a word for a good couple of seconds, and you both just spent the entire time staring into each other's eyes as if you were conveying your messages non-verbally. That was until Juyeon finally decided to break the tension off by smiling at you, a genuine one you had consistently grown to love back then.
“So, am I back in your good graces now, princess?”
You were finally brought back to your senses, and you quickly removed both hands from him and sat down swiftly back on your chair, ducking your head down while giving a slight pout.
Juyeon missed this sight of you and was absolutely admiring the whole situation that unfolded before him. Just then, both of your meals arrived, and the same waitress from before gently placed each of your respective ones in front of you. Juyeon then gently placed the cutlery in front of you.
“Dig in,” he mentioned before whipping out the napkin and placing it right on his lap, before going in with his cutlery to cut through his steak.
In return, you swiftly picked up yours and roughly cut through your freshly cooked breaded cod fish.
“No one calls a normal friend princess, Lee freaking Juyeon,” you mumbled.
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Just when you thought that would be the only time you would actually spend some time alone with Juyeon, it turns out the male had perceived that you both were back just the way you were when you were kids.
Since that day, Juyeon would actually make his way out to invite you often to join lunch with him at the same cafe, usually ordering a different dish from the wide selection of food on the menu. What Juyeon loved the most about the place was the ambience and good coffee, and he would always be seen ordering a big jumbo-sized cup of iced latte to bring back to his office to help get through the rest of the day.
You, on the other hand, were often stuck with more or less the same few dishes that you’ve tried, and you, too, would order your usual iced americano back to the office once you both were done with the meal.
At first, you have always tried your best to avoid having contact with him; that first lunch date was just a typical day, as you would try to convince yourself. But whenever Juyeon gets a little break out from the office, he would either send you a personal email or sometimes ask his personal assistant to come down to your department to inform you to wait for the man down at the lobby at noon.
You obviously could do your very best to come up with excuses to let him know that you’re busy with something or you already have plans to eat with your co-workers, but it seemed that the heart does what it wants, and it does not align with the signals that your brain is trying to tell you; which is to avoid and cut off this whole friendship for good.
So you were back to being the giddy seventeen-year-old little girl who often felt excited whenever you spent time with your childhood friend. Hence, every time you were taking the very last escalator down to the lobby, you would often use that little time to admire the way Juyeon would always lean against one of the pillars while swiping through his phone with one hand and keeping the other one inside the pocket of his coat.
But you did not want to admit it just yet, so you would constantly remind yourself that he’s only back for a while; it wouldn’t be so easy to open up your ice-cold heart again.
That was until today.
Just a few days prior, Juyeon had given you a ticket to visit this huge Christmas market in the town centre. At first, you stared at the paper blankly, thinking it was all a joke and he couldn’t have gone with you. But the male made it clear that he invited you to come along, which would be the two of you together.
Your heart was bouncing so fast that you were afraid it would eventually pop out of your chest as you slowly approached where you both were supposed to meet. You figured it best that you arrived twenty minutes earlier to compose yourself and try to understand your situation.
As you paced back and forth for god knows how long, you finally heard your name being called out from the far distance, and you perked your head up to see that Juyeon was waving his hands and running towards you like he used to back when he was a kid.
Once he finally stopped right in front of you, he began panting heavily to the point you were genuinely worried if this man was actually alright.
“Woah, what the hell happened to you? You seemed like you were escaping from a monster or something,” you joked.
“N-No…I went to get this for you…” Juyeon then hands you a brown paper bag, and you accept it while being all confused.
“Open it, Y/N. Have a look at what’s inside,” he insisted before resting both hands on his hips.
While giving Juyeon a weird look, you finally peeped into the bag and extended your arm into the brown bag before you finally felt something soft against your palms and eventually pulled whatever it was out.
Your eyes widened when you saw what it was.
“J-Juyeon…this…”
“Remember way back in high school; we promised each other that we would want to visit the Christmas markets, and how badly did you want this soft alpaca plushie that was way too expensive for neither of us to get our hands on? Yeah, I actually got it before the store closed like minutes ago.”
He remembered.
You have always been vocal about wanting this plushie for years, and there was no way your parents were buying it for you, claiming that it was way too expensive (which it was since it was part of a collaboration with one of the high-end fashion companies) and that you wouldn’t have a proper use for it. Back then, Juyeon couldn’t do anything but reassure you that one day, your wish would definitely come true while always giving you pinky promises.
And now, you were finally receiving your biggest Christmas wishlist item as an adult, and you couldn’t be much happier.
You laughed. “Juyeon, you do realise that I’m not a child anymore, right?”
“Who says plushies are only meant for young children? Why can’t adults have their collection? I’ll tell you I have a Build-A-Bear in my bedroom.”
“You must be joking.”
“Mark my words, Y/N.”
Eventually, you both started laughing out loud before you hugged the plushie close to you, activating the heating function in the toy to keep yourself warm; that was the main purpose that made you want to purchase this product long ago.
“Thank you, Juyeon.”
“Well, instead of thanking me, why don’t you keep me company for the night as we explore this Christmas market together?”
You smiled. “With pleasure.”
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“Oh, Juyeon~ Have I ever told you how much I’ve admired your good looks? I’d like to think that your family genes are something else.”
After an hour or two of walking through the entire Christmas market and having too much fun going to each stall and trying out the different activities and food, you eventually stumbled upon one located towards the furthest end and sold various eggnog drinks. You have never tried this particular alcoholic beverage before; you were mostly used to the beers that you often get back in the pubs in London. However, Juyeon insisted that you give it a go especially for the Christmas season, and he eventually bought both of you a mug.
The initial taste seemed a bit off to you, but once the alcohol started kicking in, you eventually began to chug the whole liquid down as if it were nobody’s business. After some time, one mug of eggnog began turning into two, and then three, and finally, you were pretty sure that you were on your fifth mug by now.
That was when Juyeon realised that he should’ve stopped you by your second or third mug because now you were barely walking properly without his aid, and your speech began to slur as he linked your arms over his shoulders, trying his best to support you while walking you back home.
You both had to take the subway trains to head back to your apartment and during the entire time, you were clingy with your childhood friend, often wrapping your arms around him and giving him a tight squeeze while mumbling incoherent words. You caught the attention of all passengers and passersby, but Juyeon could only smile at how you looked right now.
He had never seen you drunk before, and this was a whole new experience for him. But he wasn’t too mad that you reminded him so much of your younger self; it was as if he was witnessing the seven-year-old you again in the present day.
After walking from the subway and, eventually, towards your front door to your apartment, Juyeon was about to take you up towards the elevator until you stopped him in his tracks.
“No Juyeon~ why are you leaving me so early? We still have so much more to see in the market!”
He smiled. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to head home to get some rest.”
“But I don’t wanna~”
With that, Juyeon grabbed hold of both your shoulders as he bent down to be on the same eye level as you, trying his best to talk to you in your drunken stage.
“Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm? We’ve had loads of fun today, and besides, your mom and sister would be worried sick about you at this late hour.”
Immediately, you lifted your pinky at him, which caused the male to stare at you blankly. “Pinky promise that I get to see you tomorrow, Juyeon-ie?”
Oh, how insanely adorable you were to Juyeon right now.
He chuckled before linking his pinky with yours, shaking it left and right slightly as if to seal the agreement. “I promise, we’ll see each other in the office first thing tomorrow morning.”
With the final pinky shake, Juyeon guided you towards the elevator and pressed the button. As you both waited for the elevator to come down to the ground floor, you suddenly broke off the silence, and Juyeon had to blink twice to know he wasn’t hearing things wrong.
“I’ve always liked you Juyeon…even after all these years…I never stopped loving you…” you sobbed.
Your nose was now sniffling, and you closed your eyes to let the tears drip down, not caring what Juyeon would think about all this. You were done trying to hold it back for so long, and you needed to let the burden that you’ve held onto for years finally let loose, and well, you were drunk at this point, so you couldn’t really control the words that slipped out from your mouth.
“Why did you leave me just like that…did you know how much pain it has caused…and how hard I’ve tried to forget every single thing about you? I even threw away all of the pictures and toys we’d had together because the flashbacks of memories would often play in my mind upon seeing them,” you were now crying, and you began to raise your voice a little.
“Why, Juyeon, WHY!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, and immediately you burst out crying, plopping straight down onto the concrete floor. You hated how the alcohol wasn’t making you think straight and that you were feeling a roller coaster of emotions right now.
Just let it out, Y/N. You’ve suffered long enough—
Immediately, a warm pair of arms wrapped around you, and a hand gently pushed your head down to let you rest on the crook of their neck. You finally glanced up to see that it was Juyeon, holding you tight and resting his chin on the top of your head.
As much as you want to push yourself away from him, you can’t. You couldn’t explain why, and you have even made a pact to yourself that you wouldn’t want anything associated with him anymore.
But why did the saying the heart wants what it wants have to be so accurate?
You hated it, hated how you have always let your emotions take full control over your mind, not making you think straight, and often going against your plans. In fact, your heart ached so badly, and it was the same feeling that you felt seven years ago, right when Juyeon left you alone as he hopped onto his vehicle.
The only thing you could do right now was to let the stream of tears pour down and cry out to your heart’s content. You felt weak, and you could do nothing to push him away.
Juyeon couldn’t blame you, though, because how could he? Especially when he was the one who said nothing all those years ago. Now, he was seeing with his own eyes how much pain and trouble it has cost you, turning you into a vulnerable little petite girl who was crying her heart out in his arms.
With that, he moved his lips down to plant a little kiss on your head and eventually closed his eyes as your cries filled up his eyedrums.
“I’ll make it work, Y/N. I promise you that I’ll make things work this time.”
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“Oh, good fucking hell.”
You were sitting on your work desk, bringing your hands to cover up your face. It was an absolute nightmare to hear from your sister about what happened the night before—how you got drunk and caused a little scene in public, which made everyone turn their attention towards you, how Juyeon was the one who brought you all the way back home, how you had a breakdown in front of him to the point you eventually fell asleep after crying your eyes out to the point he had to physically gave you a piggyback up to your front door and assisted your sister to plop you down on your bed.
If there was a nearby cliff near your workplace, you would do anything to ditch work and actually head straight up there to jump off from the embarrassment.
You were already not having a good time reuniting with Juyeon, let alone trying to sort your emotions out while seeing him at work every day and that he was your boss. But to confess your deepest thoughts while being vulnerable and drunk in front of him? That was not written anywhere in your books.
As you were spending your entire lunch break groaning over what happened last night, you immediately received a call from your desk telephone, and you quickly composed yourself before picking the phone up.
“Y-Yes, hello? This is L/N from the editorial department; how may I assist you for the day?”
“Good afternoon, Miss L/N. Please report to the CEO’s office immediately whenever you can.”
Oh, Jesus take the wheel.
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The entire walk up to the CEO’s office was nerve-wracking; it was as if you were being sent to detention at the principal’s office because you messed up really badly. So many thoughts ran through your mind, thinking about how to apologise to Juyeon for the scene you had caused the day prior.
Once you walked into his office, you tried your best to devise the best phrase to start the conversation, but it seemed that Juyeon beat you to it, immediately handing you a red ginseng hangover drink.
You reluctantly accepted it while mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ before he insisted that you drink it immediately before him. Once you were done, he took the bottle away and tossed it straight into the bin, directly briefing you about the upcoming fashion show, now only a month away.
Now that it was back to business and you were no longer childhood friends, you tried your best to keep your composure as you listened to all of the details he was going through one by one with you.
Eventually, he decided to bring you along to meet up with one of the CEOs of the high-end brands on a trip to Seoul to discuss the plan in person further. Apparently, you have met with the CEO of Fendi, and it’s one of the brands that have been associated with GQ Korea for decades now. Somehow, Juyeon has gotten pretty close with the famous man himself over the years.
All of you met up in the famous Four Seasons Hotel for a pretty luxurious high-tea session while discussing the whole fashion show. It was mostly just Juyeon conversing with the CEO himself; you were mainly there to take down all the essential notes that both parties spoke.
Usually, it would have been his personal assistant job, but he insisted that you come along this time, saying it was part of your training. To be completely honest, you weren’t sure if Juyeon was the one mixing up between work and personal life issues at this point. All you wanted to do was to pray that this meeting gets over and done with quickly so that you could head back towards the comforts of your cubicle in the office and not face Juyeon for a while.
After an hour or so, it seemed as if the meeting was wrapped, and both parties finally parted ways for now, causing you to head straight back to Juyeon’s vehicle. Many people would think most CEOs would have their chauffeur, but Juyeon insisted that he always preferred to drive alone.
He was still the chatterbox that you have always remembered back in the day, how we would often come up with any possible topic that would keep you entertained; you both could talk for days back then only if both of your families didn’t stop you from heading back home for meal time.
There was only one problem this time: you were still troubled by what had happened the day before, and it was hard enough to even join Juyeon for this meeting with the CEO of Fendi in the first place. Now that both of you were alone in the car, things were far more awkward than they already were. Juyeon never touched on the topic from last night, but still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the face.
Just when you thought Juyeon was about to take the left turn to head back towards the office, he took the other lane instead and drove towards the opposite direction.
“Juyeon, the office is the other way—”
“Let’s go somewhere, Y/N. Treat this as a little gift of stepping out of office hours for a bit. You’ll still get paid, though; don’t worry. I’ll make sure to inform your head department about your absence.”
What on earth is going through your mind, Juyeon?
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It has been a few minutes since you have physically pressed yourself against the tank, slowly admiring various species swimming about minding their own business.
Apparently, you both have arrived at the COEX Aquarium, known for homing a large variety of rare species of aquatic animals and typically the best place for school trips, holidays, and even as a date.
Wait, scratch that last one—
“Didn’t you always say how coming here has been on your bucket list for the longest time?” Juyeon questioned you as he slowly walked up towards where you were from behind, slipping both of his hands into his cloak as he, too, began admiring the beauty in front of him.
That was when you finally diverted your attention to his face for the first time since hopping into his car this morning to head to the hotel. You were upset at yourself with how the feelings were the same as before: his pretty sculpted facial features, how good-looking he actually was, and how he could do the bare minimum, yet you would still swoon over the man himself.
With all that has happened lately, something told you this was more than friend behaviour. Sure, Juyeon might be trying his best to patch up this whole relationship you once had, taking you to places and recreating new memories with one another, but you weren’t sure if Juyeon felt the same way as you did.
That deep feeling within the pit of your stomach made you feel uncomfortable, and it was about time you finally confronted him about the one question that had pondered at the back of your mind for the longest time.
If both of you wanted to continue whatever was happening between you, you needed to get the specific answer first.
And it has to be now.
“Juyeon, can I ask you something?”
He hummed. “Yeah, go ahead.”
With that, you turned your entire body facing him and took a deep breath to figure out the right words to convey your feelings for the man himself. “I meant what I said the night before.”
That alone was enough to get his full attention, as he was now slowly turning himself fully towards you as if he was staring straight into your soul. You wanted to chicken out so badly and tell him it was nothing, and you both could just continue with the silence. But you have already come so far, and you know that this will only continue to haunt you for as long as you live if you aren’t going to address it now.
So you mustered up every bit of courage left within you, and opened your mouth again.
“I never stopped loving you, Juyeon. Even though we have lost contact for so many years, I never once stop thinking about you every single day. As much as I’ve tried so hard to forget about you, hell, I threw everything that reminded me of you into the dumpster or boxes and kept them deep somewhere where I wouldn’t even think about searching for it ever again, but to no avail.”
Your body began to tremble as you tried to calm yourself down by playing with your fingers. “I couldn’t, Juyeon. Every time I thought I have succeeded in getting rid of you from my life for good, the thought of you just somehow finds its way to creep back up in my mind.”
“I have no idea if karma sent me back here to Seoul, especially when my career was doing well in London. Imagine coming back and discovering that my new employer is someone I’ve tried so hard to forget about? The mixed emotions I felt then were insufferable.”
As you began to speak more, tears started welling up in your eyes, causing your heartbeat to rise rapidly. But you decided to press on and choke back on your tears.
“With all that you have done for me for the past weeks and months, I truly have no idea what on earth you are trying to prove to me, Lee Juyeon. Are you trying to fix our broken friendship? Or is it something more? What exactly are you even planning to do, Juyeon?”
Finally, you took a few steps closer until you were inches away from him.
“Be honest with me now, Juyeon. What exactly am I to you?”
There was this tense moment between you two, and neither of you said a word to one another. You were looking straight at your childhood friend with red, puffy eyes, and his eyes were widened, looking at you and trying his best to take in everything you’d said.
Something tells you that it was best not to hear about Juyeon’s opinions at all for the fear of rejection once more. If you had the power to dissect his mind to determine his thoughts and feelings about all of this, you would. Yet, you were still afraid of what might happen next.
As you wait for his response, you slowly examine how his shoulders began to slump, and eventually he tries his best to talk some sense into you.
“Y/N, I—”
“Ah! It’s Juyeon-ie!”
The both of you immediately darted your head towards where the voice was coming from, and that was when you noticed a female running towards Juyeon while waving her hands, and a rather old man accompanied her.
Who could it be?
“Saeran? And Uncle Lee? What are you two doing here?” Juyeon questioned as the two individuals made their way towards you. It was also then they both noticed your presence and the soft-spoken young lady was the one who broke the ice.
“You must be?”
“O-Oh, I umm—”
“She’s Y/N; she used to be my neighbour back in the days when I was still living in Seoul.”
Just a neighbour, huh?
“Ah, Y/N!” The young female extended her hand for a little handshake, in which you awkwardly return the favour. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person finally! Juyeon has spoken a lot about you.”
Before you could even give a reply, it seemed that the older man whom you now know was his uncle, or rather, perceived that he was the one who managed to help Juyeon get a new start in life back here in Seoul, finally spoke and diverted Juyeon’s attention back to what they were here for in the first place.
“We had made a little appointment this afternoon, don’t you remember, Juyeon?”
“Oh, yes! I’m so sorry. It must’ve completely slipped my mind since I have been pretty caught up with work lately,” Juyeon apologised while slightly bowing towards his uncle.
“Not at all, Juyeon. I’m sure you must’ve been pretty busy with-” his uncle then diverts his attention towards you. “-a lot of things.”
You definitely felt way too uncomfortable at the moment, and you needed to get out of the aquarium right this second if you did not wish to be suffocated by all of the tension in the air.
Immediately, you gently removed your hands from the young female and quickly made a ninety-degree bow towards all of them.
“My humble apologies, it seems that I have disrupted an important meeting. I shall take my leave now.”
As soon as you turned your heel towards the other direction, you suddenly felt a pair of hands grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Y/N! Wait, I’ll drive you back—”
“No, it’s fine,” you tried your best to smile at him. “I’ll just take the train located right outside the aquarium. Have a good day.”
You instantly slip your hands off his grip and dash straight towards the front door, trying your best not to look back and ignore the tears dripping down your face as you walk down the steps towards the subway.
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It was now week two of cutting off all contact with Juyeon. It hadn’t been easy for you both at work and personally. In fact, you haven’t been doing great at all. It was as if you had turned into a living zombie, often feeling rather emotionless and drowning yourself in paperwork and avoiding contact with another except for your head of department.
Since Juyeon was still your employer and CEO, he has definitely tried all means of contacting you, asking to see if you were doing okay or trying to get you up to his office to talk about the fashion show, or rather, to talk things out. But every single time, you would find ways to decline his request as best as possible while respecting him as your boss first and foremost.
After a week of declining his invitations, his messages and calls eventually stopped coming a week ago; it was as if he had completely vanished for a little while. From what you have heard, it seemed that he had some urgent matters that he had to deal with, causing him to leave the office into the hands of his assistant for now.
It was finally a little breather for you since you didn’t have to put on this facade for the time being, letting you let loose for a bit. Going through sleepless nights throughout the past couple of weeks definitely has taken a toll on your mental well-being.
You told yourself you needed to hold it all in for another week. Once this whole fashion show is done, you will get your well-deserved vacation off work for one week.
It’ll be alright. Things will definitely work out in one way or another, Y/N.
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It was finally the day for the long-awaited fashion show hosted by GQ Korea and the collaboration among famous brands around the globe. A swarm of people marched into the rented convention hall, filling the entire space within minutes.
You and your co-workers were busy getting everything organised and ensuring everything was in place. Since you were in the editorial department, you have been going about talking to all of the big figureheads from each respective brand, mostly just breaking the ice as well as interviewing them so that you have your necessary notes to draft out the proposal for the upcoming magazine.
Time passed quickly and it was time for the show to begin. As you sat down on one of the chairs, you made your way towards the far end corners of the hall, getting ready your notepad and trusty blue ballpoint pen.
As the light began to dim, Juyeon eventually made his way up on stage with a microphone, giving the guests a warm welcome and a little opening speech before the models began their runway walk. Seeing the man himself again was a bittersweet moment for you. As much as you wanted nothing more associated with him, your eyes just couldn’t seem to turn away from him.
It did not help that he was dressed up in a black tuxedo, with his hair styled up with his usual one strand on his forehead. He looked strikingly handsome, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to woo almost everyone in the audience tonight. The way he presented himself was truly magnificent, and you could see why he was able to rise to the ranks of being a CEO at such a young age.
Tears began welling up in your eyes again, but you tried your very best to hold them back and mentally cursed at yourself, thinking that this was all professional work now and that there was no room for any personal matters for the night.
Once he made his desired speech, he eventually came down from the stage and sat at one of the front row seats, and that was where you could clearly see that the very same girl from the aquarium sat right next to him, along with his uncle and personal assistant. It shouldn’t bother you since they are practically family to him. It was none of your business, so why couldn’t you take your eyes off them?
Or rather, with him and the young lady who was clearly having fun whispering into each other’s ears.
It has nothing to do with me.
You constantly reminded yourself that whenever you tried to spare a glance at them, all while you were taking down notes from the show. It was definitely a challenge trying to stay focused, and there were a couple of times when you needed to close your eyes for a bit and take a few deep breaths to proceed with your work.
The show finished smoothly, and the audience responded with a standing ovation. You definitely felt a sense of accomplishment from that, too, given that all of your hard work over the past months had finally paid off.
The event wouldn’t have been complete without an after-party, so here you were in the hall next door—with all of the guests, models, and even staff alike having loads of fun chatting about with a glass of champagne in hand. Eventually, the DJ that was hired began to blast out a wide selection of music, indicating that whoever felt comfortable hitting up the dance floor was able to do so.
You smiled as you saw a couple of your close co-workers pull up some moves on the dance floor; it reminded you of loads of your time back in the UK—going to the local pubs and just having the time of your life drinking and partying with your friends.
Just as you were lost in thought, you suddenly felt a little tap on your shoulder, and you turned around to see that Juyeon’s assistant insisted that someone wanted to see you in person.
You didn’t think much of it since you already had a little bit of alcohol in your system, so when you finally realised who was the one who wanted to see you, panic began to rush through your veins, and you tried your best to make sense of the situation.
“Mr Lee? Is something the matter?”
You did not need to see the older male again, especially when he gave you a not-so-good first impression back at the aquarium. However, you had no reason to devise an excuse to leave; he was much superior to you anyway.
“Why, good evening, Miss L/N. I hope you are enjoying the party so far, and congratulations on the job well done. I must say Juyeon always excels in his work, no matter what obstacles he encounters along the way.”
The only thing you could do was flash a little smile back at him, as much as it made you uncomfortable. In the back of your mind, you have dozens of questions running through your mind, thinking about in what manner his uncle has any business with you.
Eventually, he began speaking as if he was chanting through a book, giving you a whole load of information that was a little bit too much to take in at the moment.
“It seems that Seoul life has been too tedious for you, don’t you think? Have you ever wondered about transferring back to London? Perhaps it would be a much better place for you to reside in.”
“Umm, with all due respect, sir, how did you know about my background—”
“Oh, I have always kept an eye on you; you were Juyeon’s childhood friend, after all.”
Keyword. “Were”
“With that being said, I have read a couple of your articles before from the London Mail, and I must say, they are actually quite extraordinary.”
“W-Why, t-thank you, Mr Lee. I really do appreciate them—”
“Speaking of transferring, the CEO for Fendi has actually taken quite a liking to you and your work. Even throughout the whole fashion show back there, he has been talking on and on about you, saying how you would prove to be a fruitful addition to his company.”
Just like that, Mr Lee began to step forward to hand you a little sticky note, which clearly had a number written on it.
“If you ever change your mind, give me a call. Besides, I’m sure you already know the answer deep within your heart. I will be waiting,” Mr Lee responded with a smug before entering back into the hall.
You stared back down at the note and eventually began thinking about what his uncle said prior. Suddenly, you started feeling conflicted, thinking this was the right place to belong. But it could also be his way of trying to brainwash you; you’re pretty sure you felt like a menace in his eyes.
You decided you needed some fresh air to clear your thoughts for a bit, so you headed out towards the balcony right up the stairs. You figured that an open-air rooftop seemed perfect for some alone time.
If only you were the only one who was planning to use the same exact spot that is.
Right when you reached the door that was ajar on the rooftop, you immediately recognised the two people standing before you, the female leaning in to give your childhood friend a peck on the lips.
You stand there motionless, and immediately, your blood starts to boil, something you haven’t felt in a while. The glass of champagne then drops towards the ground, and the shattered noises make the two turn their attention towards you.
It all felt like a sudden pause like time had stopped for a few moments. The both of you were staring deep into each other’s eyes, not knowing what to do or how to respond. But then, Juyeon eventually spoke to break the silence.
Before you could ever hear what he had to say, you were already dashing down the stairs, not caring that you had missed a couple of steps and that there were a few instances where you felt like you were about to trip and fall straight down back where you came from.
Not even wanting to let your co-workers know about anything, you quickly dashed through the front gates, running through the now gloomy skies that were bound to have a heavy downpour within a few minutes.
You should’ve remembered that Juyeon was the basketball team leader back in high school for a reason; no matter how fast you ran through the streets, he eventually caught you and yanked you back towards him, causing you to press up against his chest.
“Let me go! Let me go—”
“Y/N! Please! Let us just talk things out.”
You used up all of your strength and pushed him away as hard as you could before you began raising your voice back at him. “Talk? Don’t be ridiculous. You have done more than enough, and I have seen enough.”
“Y/N, no. You don’t understand—”
“What else do I have to understand!?!? You have done more than enough to shatter me over and over again, Juyeon! And to think I was dumb enough actually to think we could work things out again!” You screamed.
“Y/N…please…just calm down and listen to what I have to say…” Juyeon was now practically begging you, begging you just to stop.
“You clearly don’t understand the pain that I’ve gone through, Juyeon. You weren’t there to witness or experience it anyway! Why did we even become friends in the first place, huh!?!?”
God, cat’s out of the bag.
That last sentence was definitely not meant to be said at all; it was one of your deepest, darkest thoughts that you have sworn that nobody should ever find out about, especially when it is directed towards the person who stood before you.
“I hate you, Juyeon…I really do…for all of the pain that you have caused me…” you were now sobbing like a child, which pained Juyeon so much seeing how you were now.
With that, a loud thunder resonated throughout the city, and a heavy downpour began pouring down from the skies. The both of you were now soaked, and you mustered up the courage to say your final words to him as the tears began mixing with the rain.
“Please…I beg of you…just stop looking for me…or even talk to me at all…just leave me alone…that’s the last thing I will ask of you…”
“I don’t want anything to do with you no more.”
You slowly began backing away, and when you reached a good amount of distance, you turned your heel and began running away into the shadows, not sparing a final glance at your childhood friend who stood at the same spot under the pouring rain.
This is my final goodbye, Juyeon.
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If you thought the whole week of you being a walking zombie in the office was terrible enough, clearly, nobody was prepared for the current state that you were in. You locked yourself up in your room and refused to see anybody, even your mother and sister.
You would constantly lay in bed, tossing and turning, even though it was hard to fall asleep. Since you avoided contact with your family members, there was nothing much they could do but place a tray filled with your meals and dishes in front of your door, waiting for you to eventually open up during times when you actually felt hungry and took them into your room to savour them all on your own.
You didn’t need anyone or anything now; you craved alone time and peace.
As you curl up in bed, sometimes even at the corners of your room, your eyes would often dart towards the sticky note handed to you by his uncle. So many times you have thought about it: what if life would’ve been better abroad and coming back to Seoul was truly a grave mistake that you have made? What if this whole decision was actually an awakening moment for you to realise that this is not where you should belong?
Days went back and eventually, it became a week. There were only a few days left before you returned to the office for work. The longer you kept staring at the note, the more motivated you were to take the risk and start again.
Every time you were reminded of what happened that very fateful night, you rationalised that maybe what Mr Lee said was true after all. Perhaps Seoul is really not your place to belong.
As the clock ticked, your desire to leave everything behind felt stronger.
You waited until the clock finally struck noon for you to finally stand up with your phone in hand, punching each number into the dial pad and bringing it to your ear.
Once the ringing eventually got through and you were met with a voice on the other end of the line, you took a deep breath before muttering the words you have been reluctant about all this while.
“I’ll take up the offer.”
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“For the very last time sissy, I promise I will be fine,” you spoke through your headphones as you were on a video call with your sister, who was back home at your apartment.
“You have never done something so impulsive before, and given that you made this whole decision during your darkest hours? I highly doubt that you’re okay, Miss Y/N.”
“Well, I can assure you that the darkest hours are gone, and I’m now free and much happier. I can work with Fendi!”
Your sister sighed through the phone. “Working with big brands is one thing; what about your physical and mental well-being?”
“Rome doesn’t sound too bad to me, and besides, living in the UK for a couple of years has definitely given me the experience I’ve needed to survive back in the EU again.”
“Fine. Just…be careful, okay? Give mom and I a call once you’ve touched down.”
You gave a little flying kiss through the phone. “Don’t worry, I will.”
After waving goodbye on both sides, you clicked the red end call button and leaned back onto the chair you had been sitting on for the past hour. It was definitely a shocker to you that Fendi was willing to accept you immediately without having to go through any sort of significant interviews and that they were kind enough to even provide accommodations for you. At the same time, you work for them under a contract of two years. Frankly, it was a good deal and a steal.
You slowly stare into the digital clock on the big screen, which eventually becomes an announcement.
“All passengers bound for Rome, Italy, please head to gate 4B and be ready for boarding!”
Instantly, almost all of the people around you began standing and lining up as if they needed to be the first to get on board. You have always disliked and never understood why the rush and pushing against one another trying to fight for the first slot, so you often just sat back and relaxed until only a couple of folks left to board the plane.
Time went by quickly, and thirty minutes have passed since then. Now, only a handful of passengers are left to board. That was when it was your cue to get up and sling your backpack onto your back.
As you slowly walked towards the counter to let the flight attendants scan your passport and let you through the gates, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulders, causing you to turn behind to see who it was.
You didn’t have much time to respond until you were pulled in for a tight embrace; that familiar cologne was enough to make the tears well up in your eyes again.
“J-Juyeon…” your voice muffled.
“Stop. Let me just…let me do the talking this time. Please.”
You would have definitely fought back and started pushing him away once more, but it seems that you were either too taken aback or lost all of the energy throughout the past week to do so. Instead, you just stood there motionless in his arms.
“Y/N, I know it would be horrible for me to ask for forgiveness because I definitely do not deserve any of that after what I have put you through. Or even for another chance because you clearly gave me one, and it was my fault for not appreciating nor cherishing the moment when it happened,” he began stroking your head, his fingers running through your long, silky, soft hair.
“But one thing is for sure: I will not let you go this time. This time, I am going to hold you so tight that there’s no room for you to escape; I’ll make sure that you will forever be safe and sound in my arms, and I will be the one who is going to bring you joy instead of pain and tears.”
He then bends down to give you a little kiss on your forehead. “You mean a lot to me, Y/N. And I’d like to think you are more than just a friend; you’re my other half. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to move on, knowing that I will lose you again, and this time, forever, if I don’t stop you now.”
“So please, Y/N. I’m begging you. Please don’t go.”
With his final words, you eventually find your arms slowly snaking up his back and returning the hug to him. You weren’t too sure why you did that, especially after the tremendous pain you have gone through the past week in particular. At the end of the day, the phrase where the heart wants what it wants will forever remain faithful to you, whether you like it or not.
You sobbed. “You’re not going to make me stay that easily.”
“Oh yeah? You think I’m not capable of doing that?”
“Prove it then.”
Instantly, one of his hands travelled back up to your chin and lifted them, causing you to look directly towards his as he slowly bent down to interlock his lips with yours. The kiss was rather heated, as if the both of you had been waiting for this to come so badly. You couldn’t care less if you both were actually making out at the airport.
Juyeon cupped your face with both hands as he tilted his head for you to gain more entrance into his. His lips felt soft yet demanding as if you were devouring a forbidden fruit. In return, you run your fingers through his silky black hair.
After a few minutes, you both broke apart for some fresh air, trying your best to catch your breath simultaneously.
“Is that supposed to make me stay put in Seoul, Juyeon?” You teased.
With that, he merely replied with a little smile followed by a smirk. “That, Miss Y/N, was actually a pact you made to me. Treat it as a contract, if you will, that you are bound to stay by my side no matter what.”
“Ugh, that’s so foul of you!”
“You should know that I have my ways; I’m not the CEO of GQ Korea for nothing.”
The both of you eventually burst out into laughter while Juyeon finds both hands on your waist while you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“Listen, Y/N. I want to apologise on behalf of my uncle and Saeran.”
“Oh, yeah. No big deal. By the way, is Saeran—”
“It’s not what you think it is.”
“It’s not?”
He smiled. “She’s my little cousin, and she often showers me with tons of hugs and kisses, even though I’ve told her to stop a million times.”
“Well, you’re lucky to have a cousin who loves you that much,” you replied.
“Yeah, but she’s going to have to learn that she can’t do that anymore because someone else is going to replace her job for that.”
As much as you knew who he referred to, you still wanted to drag this further. “And who exactly is that?”
“Hmm…maybe the contract before wasn’t clear enough. Should I make another one?”
You slapped his chest immediately. “Don’t you dare, we’re in public.”
Again, another burst of laughter was genuinely beginning to make you feel a lot better, even to the point of slowly healing all the scars you have had before.
With that, you needed to make yourself clear to the man himself.
“Juyeon, can I just be honest with you?”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“I appreciate you doing all of this for me, but I just want to give you a heads-up that it’ll take a while for me to heal from everything completely and that I’m sorry if I don’t give you the exact treatment that you expect from me, and I—”
You were then silenced with another kiss on the lips; this time, Juyeon took the time to shower you with as many kisses as possible, making sure that each was worthwhile before breaking the kiss again.
“Y/N, I don’t care about all of that. You can take as long as you need, but just know that I will be here for each step you take, and I’ll give you support whenever you need it. I promise. I will not leave you behind ever again.”
As you both plastered a soft smile, you leaned in to rest your forehead against each other, taking in everything that had happened minutes prior.
“Here’s to a new beginning with you.”
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“ BLOOD BOIL ”
PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: NSFW! (Death Island Jill), age gap relationship (not as specified as my previous fic), female described reader, dominant Jill Valentine, submissive reader, manhandling, rough intimacy, mentioned use of strap-on toy, words used to describe toy such as “dick” - etc, hair tugging (ive tried my best not to specify hair texture), pinch of degrading, concept of power-play dynamic, jealousy & argumentative situations, use of “gaslighting”. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!
WORD COUNT: 6.4K+
DESCRIPTION: Jill’s jealousy is like spitting fire, just from one simple glance of a man speaking to you. Perhaps she’ll use her words against you. Force you on your knees to make you understand.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sigh. Not my best work, but here we are my friends. I acknowledge this is lackluster, but I missed writing for Jill, and so I at least want to do something for her. My apologizes! I will edit later if there are any mistakes. And hopefully, my brain will be ready to write again.
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You’re invested thoroughly, thumbs bending into the hardened wheel, and your pink tongue wiggling in place, caught between your two front teeth, canines gnawing down amongst the moist muscle, all whilst you remain burrowed into a blanket of concentration.
So close, and nearly there. The banner sign is spread wide just up ahead, the crimson finish line taunting you, and the wheels of the vehicle skidded against the road, engine humming as the speed heightens. The countdown is in white bolded numbers in the upper right corner of the screen, approaching the last few seconds, there’s only a few more feet left-
That is, until an all-too-familiar ringing soon began to vibrate beside you. Perhaps it’s been the fourth time that she’s answered a phone call today. You couldn’t exactly give an explicit or precise answer, you had lost count a few hours back. Nonetheless, it drew your attention away all the same, hands loosening against your wheel.
“Gotta answer this, just give me a sec.”
A gruff response is heard from your right, and you watch from your peripheral vision as the other woman sits up from the false car seat. She trudges along the neon star-patterned carpet, her calloused thumb tapping with haste against the brightened screen of her phone as she sauntered over to the exit door. Clearly leaving no chance of objection from your side, too quick on her feet to even spare you a mere glance.
The car seat rumbles from below, the vibrations resembling a mini earthquake just against the flesh of your thighs, signaling your loss. Your softened eyes peer upwards and flicker toward the games’ screen. “Last place” taunts you in a pixelated format, the letters spinning around in repetitive loops. You had lost, and now the game was finished. The taste of triumph now blemished and dulled. An abhorrent sink of your heart weighs down in your rib cage, strong enough to plummet into your stomach.
You’re almost beginning to question whether this was all worth it or not. The plans, the date, the broken promises she always manages to cultivate off the tip of her tongue. You hadn’t forgotten the way the older woman’s rough hands circled your waist earlier this morning, pulling you close. Velvety lips tracing your cheekbone; leaving chaste kisses in its wake.
All about you, today. That’s what the middle-aged brunette had ensured. But ruined plans were practically habitual when it came to such a relationship with a woman of her degree. Ensnared in her work. Drowned in stacks of reports and hour long meetings. Body battered and aching by the time she’s finished training. It’s always “saving civilization” and “eradicating bioterrorism” first— and, of course — you came second. The way she has been so adamant on abandoning you today makes that point even more crystal clear, with each individual call she’s making, more words exchanged about sudden work relations rather than her own girlfriend on a well planned date.
It takes all your willpower not to let it dilute your mirthful attitude. With a shrug of your purse’s strap over the arch of your shoulder, and the shimmying of your hips out of the vibrating car seat, you begin to stand. Make your way over to a different game across the expanse of the arcade room. The area is dimly lit, save for the intensely hued lights flashing from each individual game screen.
Whilst you stay immersed by mashing blue and red buttons inside, a grin over your youthful features, Jill Valentine is much on the contrary. She’s stood outside, a scowl cast over her pink lips as she speaks with her colleague about information she could, quite literally, give two shits less about. Her boot is kicked up against the wall of the building, an expression of irritation clouding over her already-hardened features, wrinkles of age twisted around the flesh of her waterline, smile lines curling downward against her frown.
“Tomorrow, alright? I’m busy today. No more calls, got it?”
She warns, swallowing down the hiss that nearly pounces out from between her lips. She wants to say something worse than that. Maybe even a good, ‘go fuck yourself and stop calling my number’ sounds more appealing, but she diverges from actually saying that venomous remark. Doesn’t stop her from muttering a few curses under her breath once she’s hung up the phone, though.
There’s two sides of the story here, but at the end of the day, both of you are unsatisfied with how today's events are being twisted. The older woman is aggravated that she's being interrupted from her time with you. The younger, you, becoming rather solemn over the fact that your girlfriend is constantly being taken away.
The short-haired brunette rubs a palm across the stretch of her forehead, long fingertips and wide knuckles bumping up against her pale skin, and she breathes in before exhaling a hefty amount of air.
“Alright”, she shrugs, saying this more to herself in reassurance than anything else, mentally preparing herself for that look of despair in your pretty eyes that she’ll soon be faced with. God, she felt terrible.
She shoved her phone back into the small pocket of her jeans and pivoted on the heel of her shoes, hand grasping for the door handle. She brought herself back inside the arcade. She almost smiles at the sight of you. All excited and giddy, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. ‘Like a kid in a candy shop’, she’s chuckling to herself, boots shuffling along the soft trim of the patterned carpet.
Almost.
But seeing another form pressed up against your side sours something deep inside her. Large hands guiding yours to certain buttons on the machine, hip brushing up against hip, boisterous laughs echoing in the air, all whilst the cartoonish music and spirited sound effects synthesize in the background.
The woman can feel the pumping organ within her chest palpitate, it’s warm and uneasy, a maelstrom of heat broiling at the pit of her stomach and seeping into the pores of her skin. Her flesh is set aflame, fists clenched, and her jaw tensing; her teeth grit inside her mouth, white canines squeaking and clashing against each other in a slow grind.
Jealousy is the easiest way to describe the scorching sensation. Seeing what’s rightfully hers — melt under the presence of another?
‘I left her alone for one goddamn second.’
Jill Valentine scowls as she feels her blood singe. ‘The hell does he think he is? What gives him the right to just fuckin’ walk right up and get into my girlfriends personal space?’
She tries to be bitter, tries to find a reason for her unreasonable irritation. Beaming brightly, the apples of your cheeks uplifted and shimmering, round eyes focused on some stupid fighting game that resembles Mortal Kombat. Jubilant and content, obsidian pupils dilated. This beautiful display, and yet, it wasn’t for her to indulge in, was it? It’s as if a hand had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart.
Her ego has deflated, and like a dejected child, she glumly sits herself down close nearby, slumped in her seat as she watches you chatter with the male stranger.
Her phone vibrates. Another message. She ignores it purposefully, thoroughly imprisoned into the wreck of her own insecure psychology.
The evening has improved, for the most part. At least, it’s more appealing for your half rather than the middle-aged woman. The two of you eat at a nice restaurant just downtown, settled into your seats at a wooden table, a view of the lively city; just outside the wide casement windows beside you, a serenic display.
Not even a nice meal can save the grimacing brunette's mood. Not when you’re rambling on and on about the new combos and tricks that you’ve learned today, or about how much you’ve improved on a specific fighting style game. It only seems to tamper with Jill the more she’s listening to you.
You speak with tones of exultation and glee, fascinated and bewildered from the mere fact that something you once were intimidated by is now mastered by a smash of your finger against a button. So many clashing statements of ‘he taught me this,’ and ‘he taught me that’ had been eagerly pronounced amongst the opening of your lips and the click of your wet tongue.
Jill tightened her hold against her cutlery, her fork scraping along the edge of her porcelain plate. Watching your facialized jocundity does nothing but dampen the warmth she once envisioned for today.
“Yeah”, she hums in response, nodding her head, her discouragement concealed by a pleased facade, “I’m glad you had fun, baby.”
Veins bulge, and her body heats up. She can feel her blood grow scalding hot once more, that air of vexation and covetousness swirling around her head and mixing her brain into mush.
The car ride home is no different. Her skin has grown white around the bulbs of her knuckles, hands gripping firmly on the steering wheel. It’s a silent drive, unpleasant. Even more-so when the two of you return to the comfort of your shared apartment.
That’s when everything unwinds. Now away from the curious eyes of the public, finally concealed underneath the roof of your own home. You make an attempt to speak again, but are silenced immediately.
The middle-aged woman kicks the door closed with the heel of her boot, sending it slamming behind her, the lock on the knob jittering as it connects into place. You had acknowledged that perhaps she was upset, but to this length of such physical force? She was damn mere seconds from breaking the door. You really couldn’t read her as well as you always thought.
You had winced, crumbling into yourself at the sudden act of outrage. Shoulders hunched up so far that you felt them brush up against the outer shell of your earlobe. You cowered and trembled, bones threatening to just melt into jelly, and shrink away into a meek puddle of nothingness. An image of a mouse, so small and fragile, standing in the shadow of a warlike fiend.
“Can’t shut your goddamn mouth for one second, can you?”
The seasoned agent scowls, her jaw tightening up and falling stiff. When in a moment of anger and fury, rationality seems so far from the field of vision, and right now? The blue-eyed older woman was blinded. Jaded from her own sense of possession and childish jealousy.
“Do you think I really give a shit about how much fun you had with some stranger? I leave you for one second-”, her pink lips are pruned and falling agape as she spits out words of poison, eyes widened and nearly bulging from her sockets, “one fucking second, and you’re letting some dickhead breathe down your ass? His hands all on you?”
Evocation crosses her, a vision of the man in the arcade. His eyes descend upon you just behind the gleam of his rimmed glasses, lanky fingers drawing against your wrist. Staying firm and still, his body just adjacent from yours. Both faces painted in frames of magenta and indigo, pearly whites showcased from behind the curve of his thin lips; admiring every crevice and curve of your physique and womanly structure.
That’s all that it took for the older woman. She gave it time to marinate in her past memory, but the inner ache had failed to dissipate. Her blood boiled.
“You-”
An immediate expression of confusion unveils, drawing over your quivering features. You’re intimidated by her sudden hostility, the tailbone of your spine colliding against the marble surface of the kitchen counter in a cowardice attempt to escape the situation.
“You looked fine earlier- you said it was alright- I just-”, you’re trembling over each word, you’re beginning to ramble, “I don’t understand why you’re so upset? I didn’t mean to do anything wrong- me and him were just playing together, it wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t even know him, Jill.”
The brunette's lips curl into a cruel, and nearly incredulous smirk at your response, her head shaking whilst she draws her hand out in a physical gesture of her own exasperation. Her face, creased with age and experience, now flushed crimson. She looked crazed.
“Oh, save the bullshit. You liked it, I saw you. Talked about how much fun you had with him all day. Should have just gone home with him.”
“You should have told me!-”
You pipe out, voice drawn out squeaky and timid, your words drowned by the booming shouts she’s hissing out, seething as she dares not face away from you. Determined to win this argument.
Having the audacity to convince you that you’re in the wrong here. As if your innocence and sweetness toward passersby meant that you were unfaithful rather than enjoying simple pleasures. Your one interaction with a man deemed nothing but cheating, and all because he versed you in a mortal kombat game.
“Oh, what? I’m supposed to tell you not to go out and fucking flirt with other people?”
Jill has never acted like this before. Had always bathed you, her beautiful and prized girl, in dollops of sugary sweet words and reassurances. She’s the older woman here. Shouldn’t she be more understanding? But so stuck in her old-fashioned ways, brain clearly riddled with arrogance and self-righteousness.
An argument had never been formulated, emotions never stirred. Maybe a few huffed words were exchanged over which groceries to buy, or what dinner to eat — but such verbal abuse was nonexistent. Had never happened in your “tranquil” relationship. Except for now, that is.
So much effort, all for the middle-aged woman’s tender facade to be burnt down into smithereens, and her jealousy is like spitting fire, making your eyes well up with liquified warmth. You harshly remind her of her mistakes prior. Your planned date with her, the arrangements and proposed ideas. All for her to be entwined in her cellular device, making calls and sending out texts for the whole day.
“What about earlier? When you ignored me, and were glued to your phone all day? Clearly your job is more important than me.”
The waterworks threaten to spill over the dam that is rightfully your rounded eyes, glistening tears mounting in transparent pearls along your rows of onyx shaded lashes. Something in Jill’s face twists at the sight, her stomach churning. Realization, but it’s blurred away quickly.
“You couldn’t care less about me, could you? You promised me— promised you’d spoil me today and give me your undivided attention. I guess I don’t matter?”
You swallow mid-sentence, heart thumping against the structure of your rib cage. Each word of yours is so weak and broken, resembling a sickly and puny hiccup. Your trembling palms are grasping for the counter behind you, nails clutching for the cool surface. You were tired of the accusations. Exhausted from being denied her love and affection, and instead being faced with taunts and insults. You deserved better than this.
“I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me. Because he gave me a better time? Because he didn’t toss me aside for hours and avoid me? Break promises?”
The way you bit back was unexpected, but the moment you let it sink it, regret soon molds over.
The air surrounding the two of you is thick and heated, so sweltering that it threatens the capability of breathing. Your words had struck Jill deeply, aiding the maddened concoction that bubbles in the blackened abyss of her belly. The acidity rising up the tube of her esophagus, bile trapped inside her throat.
“I’m done with this conversation, Jill. You’re just- you’re not being fair. I’m not going to argue with you over this.”
And when you turn to face away from her? Daring to flee, even in such a time like this — strict actions soon come after the exchange of harsh words.
Jill crosses the room, a large hand stretching to reach you. Her calloused hand circles around your wrist, clutching you firmly and with much purpose, thumb dipping toward the head of your ulna bone. She pulls you in a sharp and precise yank, not caring about how she manhandles you, even after the exaggerated yelp that is pushed from your plush lips.
The rough pads of her fingertips dip into your smooth flesh, her blunt and trimmed nails digging crescents along the velvety surface, forcing you to succumb to her forced authority. So many years she’s spent using those fingers to wield weapons and train in combat, now abusing their force of power by bending you into a cage of submission.
“The hell do you think you’re goin’?”
Another tug, and your shoulder blades collide against her chest, your figure taut and almost held in a paralyzed state, not daring to move an inch. Nor a bare centimeter. Your face grows pallid, knees wobbling beneath you and nearly failing to stay balanced.
“Don’t ever walk away from me when I’m talking. Do you understand me? You listen when I speak to you.”
Moist heat fans over the stretch of your nape, and your neck hairs curl up in response. Goosebumps prickling up along your arms and legs the moment you are subjected to the humidity of her breath blowing out along your ear, her robust anatomy pressing rigidly against your own limbs.
You can hear the clack of spit draw atop her gums, echoing along the press of her tongue whenever she’s vocal. Her voice is gruff and deep, yet feminine and rich all the same. Drawing out sentences of dominance and command that make strange waves of heat lap at your tummy, pooling in the center of your cotton panties. You mistake the sudden dampness for a burst of anxiety.
“Do you have any idea…”
She pauses, as if holding back from lashing out on you entirely. She’s being cruel. Scowling as she stands behind you. Her breasts flush along your back, and her firm hands trapping you down. Making sure you don’t run away this time. Not that you’d even contemplate it.
“Do you have any idea how I felt? How I feel? The shit I do? I’ve got a job. Risk my life every fucking day. I’ve been in this mess probably longer than you’ve been alive, you know that?”
A gulp resounds from your mouth, tastebuds along your wriggling pink muscle now wrought with parchedness, lacking any formulation of moisture. Valentine continues after taking a sharp breath, each syllable she pronounces is rough and gnarled.
“So I can buy you stupid shit, like a ticket to the arcade. So you can sit around, and let some shithead drool over your head. And now you’re blaming me? Because I had some calls to make? Because you couldn’t be patient for a split second?”
Her calloused digits release the grasp along your wrist, now shooting upward to thread through the roots of your hair, curling into the locks and giving a firm tug. Controlling the position of power so tortuously. She pulls so hard that a squeak is forcedly erupted from you, stars swimming in your vision.
“And the funniest thing?”, she grimaced, still scowling beside your ear, “you haven’t apologized once. You didn’t even try.”
She yanks along the strands as if your tresses are some sort of personalized leash, nails scraping along the slope of your scalp, bringing you so far back that the arch of your throat is craned downward. The crown of your head pushed into her pronounced collarbone, doe-like eyes peering up at the older woman.
“Do I have to teach you how to apologize now, too? Have no goddamn manners for your age. Always want everything.”
Warmth floods your tummy once more. Something runs slick along the square of your gusset. You feel it whenever you wobble and shake, the sensation of stickiness webs elongated strands across the bridge of your puffy labia. It’s not your self-proclaimed anxiety. It’s your undeniable arousal.
“I’m sorry”, you sputter out a hoarse response, your supposed apology that the older woman demanded. She doesn’t seem to let up though, but of course she wouldn’t. Jill Valentine has never been the type to easily succumb — or sugarcoat, either. And with the current events? Consider her praise and sugary sweetness gone for tonight.
“You’re sorry”, she grunts out mockingly, condemnation swirling in the depths of her obsidian pupils. “I’m sure you are.”
With your hair still firmly gripped between her fingers, she presses her hips into the softness of your rear, propelling you forward with a quick shove.
You stumble on your clumsy feet the moment she ushers you into the kitchen, steps unpurposefully misplaced, and soon enough — your right cheek is smushed along the crisp white marble countertop. You find yourself bent over the kitchen’s island, memories of dicing vegetables along cutting boards, and preparing supper for your lover have been eradicated. Replaced by an image of sheer wanton destruction.
It’s filthy the way you writhe along the hardened surface, thighs spread apart and separated by Jill’s intruding knee. She wedges her toned leg in-between, the warmth of her kneecap placing cruel pressure against that specific swell that hides inside your undergarments. You have to bite back the urge to grind your hips downward; the temptation is so intense that it makes your brain fog.
“If you’re so sorry, you know what you did wrong, I take it?”
Both of her slim and scarred hands abandon your hair and slide down the bend of your spine, digits rolling up your pretty little skirt in each palm, crumpling the cotton material into an irrelevant lump of creased fabric. Jill shrugs the hem of the garment to the top of your hips until it’s shriveled and stiff, baring your back-end to her hungry eyes.
“So”, she begins to speak, the trace of her hands along the suppleness of your right cheek was nice and simple, her voice devoid of any real emotion, “tell me
what you’re apologizing for.” She cups the soft flesh, her fingers dipping into your ass as if it were dough. “And what you did wrong.”
What you did wrong? The hilarity of it all was tremendous.
You can’t find the words to speak, no reasonable way to reply to her command. You nearly huff from the audacity, but your words grow choked up, and your voice is drained due to the spreading ache that suddenly engulfs your rear. She’s spanked you, quick and sharp, the edge of her calloused palm dragging against your soft flesh like a whip, the texture like dry sandpaper as it strikes you.
A cry bursts from your lips, a wail so pitiable that Jill can’t help but chuckle with dastardly amusement. Any other moment, and she would have soothingly brushed her fingers against the crimson welt that shapes into your ass, offering cherishing caresses in replacement of a verbal apology. But In her current belief? Your lack of response challenges her patience, nearly ready to land a firm hit against your flesh for a second time.
“I’m- I’m sorry for talking back-”, words tumble out in a clustered mess, your speech impaired due to the throbbing ache that courses up along your hip. You grit your teeth once the same treatment spreads to the surface of your adjacent hip, Jill’s hardened blows lashing along the unmarred skin, leaving no patch of muscle unattended.
“And for speaking to him-”, three spanks she’s planted, and yet you’re already a quivering mess, shrunken and beaten against the solid countertop. There’s no doubt in hell that she’s not being easy with you, and the experience behind her proficient hits proves that.
“Jesus Christ.”
The older woman mumbles out, and the way she hisses under her breath is akin to something of judgment and surprise. A blunt nail curls into the hem of your underwear, tugs it, and stretches the flimsy and sheer fabric upward.
It’s only then that you realize what she’s scrutinizing. Especially after you feel the drag of her thumb dipping toward your clit, rubbing slow circles against the cloth in a devilish tease. Your teeth clash and bump against each other, a pathetic whine almost escaping, and all due to the older woman’s perverted touch.
“Your panties,” a boisterous laugh bellows from the pits of her stomach, and you flush with embarrassment as you understand what she means, “you’re soaked.”
Lo and behold, you indeed were “soaked” (as Jill had quoted). A patch of wetness soils the gusset of your undergarments, arousal seeping past the threads of fabric, darkening the material that’s clung against the swell of your cunt. To make matters worse, you’re bare and vulnerable, right in front of the older woman’s eyes. She won’t live that down, you just know it. Not until the day you die.
A grunt resounds in the kitchen, her form separating from yours to stand upright, lengthy fingers lazily threading over the zipper of her pants, tugging it downward, hearing the sound rip its way loose.
“So goddamn mad at you right now”, she mumbles under her breath, glowering at your crumpled figure. “Can’t fucking believe you. First, you’re arguing with me — and now this?”, the scowling brunette's fingers finish plopping open the last few buttons of the jeans she’s wearing, navy blue boxers snug underneath. Her pants slither down the hardened muscle of her thighs, undressing herself with impatience.
“Get to the room. Now”, she demands of you, and with that mere order, nothing else needs to be said. There’s no need to delay the inevitable. “And take off that skirt, while you’re at it.”
Your heart lurches in your chest, each thrum of the frenzied and wild organ so heavy that you feel the weight of it sink into the depths of your body. With every singular step, you risk stumbling against the wooden floor; your shoes barely touch the ground as you practically race and scramble just to reach the bedroom door. Like a delicate flower, you are — carried by the gusts of wind that are Jill's oppressive instructions.
With clammy palms and trembling fingers, you grasp for the steel knob and swing the door open, wasting no second to wobble forward and seat yourself off the edge of the mattress.
Metal collides and clinks together in warning, telling you she’s coming. Undoing her shirt, and wrapping the belt around her hand. The processed leather screeching and creasing underneath the grind of the older woman’s digits. She follows your shadow in leisurely strides, turning the corner with measured composure and a solemn expression. As if she hadn’t already planned on how she was going to fuck you dumb.
It only makes the thickened heat between your thighs dribble further into its cotton bed, as each crisp and rough stomp of her boots along the solid floorboards makes you warm with want. Eager. Anticipating. Thighs grind together once you manage to slither your heels off, toes curling into the carpeted material below the bed.
And when you finish unzipping the top of your skirt, allowing the fabric to lower from the dip of your waist, and pool around your ankles — a figure of dominance and control stands in the doorway, the hall devoured by darkness.
Over the course of time, love and intimacy came in their own, individual ways. Between the two of you, that is.
The middle-aged woman found herself to be consistently busy, her nose always pointed and buried into the stack of reports she needed to finish, wrists tight and strained from how long she’s spent scrawling notes amongst the white sheets of torment.
Sex wasn’t as common. Lovemaking being quick and rushed, soft words spoken, honeyed kisses exchanged between bated breaths and velvety lips that speak words of encouragement and devotion.
Nights spent wasting away by the creaking wood of Jill’s office desk. The one she has propped away in some messy room of the apartment. Cork-boards filled with maps and pinpoints, a few pictures of you propped up in irrelevant areas. Atop the cabinet — framed photos of your beaming face furnished along the white walls. She’s got you everywhere, along with her crumpled balls of paper that are strewn around the floor, obvious that she grew too tired or lazy to throw them into the trash bin. She loves you so much that it’s sick.
The brunette finds herself arching her spine into the back of her rolling chair, bony fingers threading through your tresses, curling into it as she grunts. Her head is thrown back as she huffs out sequences of sultry content, your tongue laving bundles of spit over her clit, dipping near her entrance and tasting the drip of her cunt, humming as you feel the press of her fingertips along your skull.
Another night you’ve searched for her, desperate and deprived and begging on your knees. Another night she orgasms, groaning and gasping as she spasms against the lap of your tongue. It repeats like a record, over and over. Until the next day she goes back to work, and refuses to make time with you all over again.
It’s different today. Where everything tumbled down the rabbit-hole.
The sight of her now is so rare, you’re sure you’ll never forget such an image. Obsidian shaded silicone protruding from her pelvis, tilting toward the ceiling as if it’s some striking weapon, foreseeing a prophecy of impending doom. A toy she purchased months before, buried in the past. Clearly forgotten about, and never used — unfortunately kept tucked away into the bottom of her wardrobe. Sleek and shiny. Brand new, and ready for a good breaking in. Tonight’s the night, you suppose.
Her almond shaped eyes bore into yours, rich-colored cerulean swirling around dilated pupils, speaking words without volume. She’s as enchanting as she is daunting, threads of syrupy strands curling down the stretch of her sharpened cheekbones, hair falling as she keeps her gaze on you. The portrait is so beautiful and provocative, you’d never wish this memory to diminish.
“Open your mouth.”
Jill drawls, low and raspy as she waits with her palms laying flat on her hips. Glancing down at your feeble figure which kneels before her, staying balanced whilst you clamp your hands against her thighs.
Poor thing you are, so cautious and wary when your mouth opens, your jawbone taut and rigid, feeling like weighted stone as your quivering lips press forward.
You’re new to this, inexperienced to the bulbous head that is welcomed into the accommodated warmth of your mouth. The plastic has no taste, just the scent of its artificial realness drifting past your nose hairs and swirling around the dizziness in your head.
You clamp tighter around her thighs, swallowing waterfalls of anxious drool down the well of your esophagus, your timid tongue curling up and hiding beside the security of your tonsils. Too nervous to thoroughly take her in.
Like an infant against a pacifier, suckling the tip further into the wetness of your gums, keeping your eyes closed all-the-while the rubber like-plastic protruded from your right cheek. Terrified to be face-to-face with her snarling and haughty judgment.
“You think that’s good enough?”
A calloused hand soothes across the hairs of your nape, laid to curl and rest there as she draws you near. A reminder that she’s in charge. The hardened press of her thumb into your neck confirms that.
“Stick your fucking tongue out. Blow me like a big girl, yeah?”, her tongue runs over her enamel and she sucks, swallowing dryly against the glistening whites of her teeth. “Do it how I want”, and so you try.
With you kneeling, bare and naked, tits hanging below you, and your cunt squeezing around thin air between your legs — you comply. Your cheeks hollow out as you take half of the length into your waiting mouth, plopping the heavy silicone amongst your writhing tongue, allowing the pink muscle to curl around the mushroom-shaped tip. With the rough and warm hand guiding you, you bob your head to a steady rhythm, spit and gargles conjoined.
“Yeah, that’s it. Just keep quiet and put that pretty mouth to good use.”
Slick draws cold over the flesh of your lower lips, arousal potent and thick like molasses as it drips between each pulsating fold. A piteous mewl reverberated in your throat, sweet eyes flitting up to catch Jill’s gaze, and she swears to the heavens she could come from that innocent look alone. The salty tears brimming along the corners of your waterline, mere seconds from spilling — the flush of your skin. You take her so well, you always do. It almost makes her want to croon, and to apologize for being so filled with contempt.
That’s not to be easily given, though. Especially not with the way you gag when the rubberized cock dips past your tonsils and tickles along the slimy walls of your throat, reflexes causing you to choke. You're quick to gain composure, though, too cock-drunk to allow the show to end. You’re back to bobbing your head, nails digging crescents into Jill’s thighs as you clamp tighter and tighter.
You want this. It’s a fact that aids in inflating Jill’s ego.
The bedroom mirror captures the image just across from the both of you, and the older nearly groans at the vision. Watching your pebbled nipples fatten and swell within the reflective glass, breasts swinging as you brought your mouth down with every push. Imitating the way Jill ruts her hips carelessly into your mouth, matching your rhythm. Jesus, it was a sight.
A hand fists into your hair, halting your desperate movements and dragging your mouth off her spit-lathered dick. A sheen of drool pearls along the plastic veins that wrap around the black shaft, glimmering and glistening under the wax and wane of the yellowed lighting. Leaving with an obnoxious pop — you gasp for breath after the separation, spittle soiling your pretty face and coating your lower chin in patches of saliva — all in which had gushed out when you were too busy blowing Jill’s length.
“That’s enough”, the brunette says, respiring heavily, “lay on the bed.” The harness strapped to her hips rattles, the toned muscles in her abdomen rippling with every sharp inhale she takes. She directs you with the point of her chin. “On your back, legs up.”
Spots of black speckle your vision for a second, your sight blurred from the liquid pooling in your eyes, and pearls of sweat lining in columns within the pores of your forehead. It’s hard to almost process what she says, but you understand after a moment of catching your breath, your palms separating from her thighs.
Your knees wobble once you physically begin to stand on your feet, and you internally chastise yourself for not being quicker and more precise. You totter over a couple of feet, crawling atop the silky sheets without much complaint, and she’s in your peripheral, right behind you.
The comfort of the bedsheets surround you, cushioning your form and laying you like a princess amongst her throne. It’s necessary, of course, due to the older woman’s authoritative press of her hand into your chest, sinking your naked body further into the comforter. Might as well get snug before your brain is fried from sex, which leaves you as nothing but a pile of sizzled, meaty mush.
“Atta girl”, Jill coos with a salacious glint in her eyes, her hips meeting the backs of your thighs the moment she grasps onto your legs and keeps you held upright.
She slants her head to the side, brunette strands falling astray as she examines your pussy, calloused hands kept firm around your ankles. A few seconds of examination, and then a shit-eating grin becomes pronounced over her features. Thoroughly complacent after acknowledging that you’ve grown so wet that she doesn’t even need to prepare you.
“Don’t even move an inch”, she warns, “Just like that.” A hand slithering down from your ankle to her pelvis, taking a moment to stroke her silicone dick for a moment, a palm wrapped firmly around the thickened shaft; making haste to rub the head up against your cunt. She lubricates herself in your juices by rocking her hips to a steady rhythm, the toy dipping back and forth beneath the cushion of your lower lips, watching the moisture disperse. A generous coat of your sloppy spit and arousal scillinates over the deeply shaded rubber.
A whine escapes your lips, head thrown back as she teasingly stimulates your clit just from the gentle prod of her cock slotted up against your pussy, and you sob, hands clamping down on the sheets with desperation. The friction is delicious and brutish equally.
But nothing in this universe compares to the euphoria of when she fills you. Guiding the toy with one hand, watching the girth fill you with ease. It’s a tight fit, your cunt swallows her up within mere seconds, squelching cervix walls wrapping around her length. As if never wanting to let go, mirthful at her forceful entry. You’ve never felt so stretched before, it’s almost indescribable how big Jill Valentine is.
“Jill….”, you cry, but it’s with bliss rather than pain. The sound of your high-pitched squeaks are enough to make her rasp out a moan, scarred hands pressing your legs up to your chest, basking in the submissive portrait you’ve painted. The brunette feels her own heat build up beneath the restriction of her strap harness, salivating whilst she watches your adorable little bud grow erect. No longer thinking about the guy from earlier, now, are you? Neither is she.
The older woman drives her dick further within you, in and out, in and out — all with a precise rock of her hips, her muscles relaxed. Beads of salty sweat slip down in rivulets, the lines of liquid traveling past her neck and in between the supple dip of her cleavage. Consumed by the ample swell of her tits hiding beneath the gray fabric of her sports bra.
She fucks you until you orgasm too many times to count — and what else is there to do? With you, so weak and whorish beneath her, always bent from her instruction. She’ll continue until you’ve learned your place.
#jill valentine smut#bloodcasket#jill valentine x female reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil fanfiction#jill valentine fanfiction#jill valentine x reader
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🔮 LESSONS IN CONTROL
contents: ascended!astarion x gn!reader (tav), dubcon, hand-wavey mind control magic, heavy possessiveness, master/pet titles used, canon-typical objectification and condescension of tav/self-insert by ascended astarion, reader is needy and also smitten, fingering, penetrative sex (reader receiving in unspecified hole), praise kink, lovey dovey sex depending on ur interpretation of whether or not astarion genuinely loves tav/self-insert (if it helps, i wrote it with the mindset that he does love you)
a/n: wahoo!! second week let's go! please accept my first bg3 / astarion fic <3 he's so... so... i wanna kis his FACE!! as always, rbs & comments are appreciated!
you will never tire of the way that astarion looks at you, even now. there’s a covetous kind of adoration that shines in his eyes, a sort of smug, devoted possessiveness that makes your skin ache to be touched by him.
“there’s my little treat,” he purrs, welcoming you into his lap. his hands come up to rest on your hips, where they belong. “my sweet, darling pet… whatever is the matter?”
“i miss you.” you press up against him, petulant in the way you know he loves to indulge. “will you come to bed with me?”
“oh? surely, i have not been neglectful.” he doesn’t kiss you as much as he possesses you, licking into your mouth with a single-minded desire that makes your head spin. “after all, it was only last night that i took you until you could barely breathe from the pleasure.”
“but i could never have enough of you,” you say, punctuating your words with sweet kisses. “i’m addicted to you, master. i can’t help myself. whenever you’re not touching me, i ache for you.”
“needy,” he clicks his tongue. the taste of his condescension is sweet on your tongue. it drips over your skin, sticky and golden as honey. this is what you live for— this love, this obsession, this subjugation. “but far be it for me to deny you. where it is it that you ache, my dearest? is it… here?”
he dips his head, leaving a trail of warm, sloppy kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, down to your chest. the subtle point of a fang grazes against your nipple, and you gasp as his lips follow, suckling at your chest. neither of you have been warm-blooded or warm-bodied in centuries, but heat still shoots through your body at the way his mouth feels against your skin.
“l-lower, master— i need you, i—”
“lower?” his fingers trail down your stomach, slipping between your legs and rubbing at your leaking hole with well-practised grace. “here?”
“please, please stop teasing, master,” the words pour from you, a font of desperation. his presence is overwhelming in the best way. your chest heaves as you try to contain the abject desire that threatens to burst from your heart. “inside. i need you inside. please.”
his smile is a knife’s blade across his face— sharp, swift, satisfied. “how is it that you only grow more perfect for me with each and every day?”
if you were in your right mind, you might answer: of course you’re perfect for him. he’s molded you to fit his desires, rewarded you with pleasure beyond your wildest dreams in exchange for your submission. his love, his control— they’re one and the same.
love as subjugation. love so strong it rips you at the seams, remodels you in astarion’s image. this is what you crave. this is everything to you—
your mind goes blank as his finger breaches your hole. you’d prepared yourself for him— of course you had— and both you and your master reap the fruits of your labor. he makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat, feeling how pliant you are, how warm you are, and even the barest hint of his approval makes your head spin with heady bliss.
his fingers stretch you out, stroking along your sensitive walls and easily finding your favorite spots. you let out a soft, shuddery sigh, melting into astarion's shoulder as he fingers you open. he coos and curls his fingers just so— a reward for your easy submission.
ever since his ascension, astarion has changed— this much is undeniably true. what hasn't changed, though, is his uncanny ability to play your body like the finest of instruments. if he hadn't trained your hole so well, perhaps you'd be satisfied to sit on his fingers forever, drooling your brains out on the fine fabric of his regalia. as it is, your body hungers for more.
a wordless whine escapes your lips.
“i know, my sweet. i’ve been so mean, haven’t i? i said i would stop teasing, yet here you are, so horribly teased.” he gives you a few more indulgent thrusts, taking his time to enjoy every shudder and shiver he pulls from your willing body. “and you’ve been so patient, too. so perfect.”
he pulls his fingers from your body, making a deep, satisfied noise at the way your walls cling to him, as if loathe to let him go. you mourn the loss, soul singing a requiem. every moment that he is not inside of you is suffering.
“shh, i know. i know,” he hushes you, soothes you, gently caressing your skin. “let me make it up to you, my love. what does your little heart desire? just speak the words, and i shall give it to you.”
a reward. your master is gracious, kind, and perfect. even being in his presence is reward enough. but, if he truly wants to reward you… there is only one thing you crave. there is only one thing you have ever craved, and you know he craves it, too.
“control me, master,” you plead. “compel me. please. i want you to.”
“however could i say no?” something sweet and distinctly desirous shines in his eyes, and he captures your lips in a deep, drugging kiss. his control envelops you, familiar and warm as the olympian hearth. when he pulls back, you remain connected to him by a thin, shimmering strand of saliva, and by the twin sparks of lust that burn in your bellies. "my treasure."
his will wraps around you, diffuses through your limbs, and your mind quiets. there's nothing quite like this— this bliss, this pleasure. it makes you feel so, so good, just to submit, just to obey.
you feel his commands nudging at your mind, puppeting your body. saccharine devotion rises up within you, and you shudder with delight. so this is the game tonight— he wants you needy, wants you adoring, wants you fawning over his every move.
you'd give it to him even if you weren't under his thrall. such is the unconditional nature of your love. if he became a twisted, soulless version of himself, you would twist yourself to match him, and you'd pour enough soul into him to sustain him too.
"love me," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "give me everything of you, and love me."
“yes,” you breathe, desperate supplication to the only god you know. if your master’s control had been any less potent, you would believe that you were acting of your own accord. but… this is good, too. just because he’s drawn the words from your lips doesn’t make them any less genuine. “i love you, astarion.”
“there’s my perfect little pet,” he says. something flashes across his face— something you don’t recognize, something that hints at regret. the urge to kiss the sadness from his expression is familiar, and not completely contrived. “i love you, too.”
his hands find your hips, and he finally, finally sinks inside of you. your eyes flutter shut, intent on luxuriating in this pleasure to the fullest. there is no greater joy than when astarion is inside of you, filling you, making you his. there is no greater glory than serving your master.
“astarion,” your breath catches in your throat as he rolls his hips up. his cock drags deliciously against your sensitive walls. he stimulates you mercilessly, making sure to pay attention to all of the spots that make you go weak and dizzy and pliable. you cling to him, melting against his shoulder as he thrusts up again and again and again. “i— i’m— astarion!”
“i’m here, little love,” he purrs. “it feels good, doesn’t it?”
“so good,” you say. it comes out as a soft little sob. “i— you— wait, astarion, i— oh!”
he shifts your weight in his lap, and the slightest change in angle lets him slip just a bit deeper. the tip of his cock kisses a painfully sensitive spot deep inside, and your eyes widen, shock quickly giving way to pleasure. he’s so deep. you’re so full.
“there it is,” he coos. “that’s right. look at you, taking me nice and deep. i can practically taste it, you know. how good you’re feeling.”
your body is his. he owns it. he controls it. the barest hint of a command nudges at the corner of your mind, and you let go of the lingering pain. your gaze goes unfocused, and your jaw slackens. you have never believed in an eternal paradise, but if you did, you think it might feel something like this.
“that’s it. you’re really feeling it now, aren’t you? just keep feeling good for me, darling.”
you slip in and out of lucidity, after that. your body is a livewire of sensations, melting under astarion’s gentle, sensual caresses. nothing matters besides him. it doesn’t even matter if you cum, though you’re sure you do. astarion would never let you feel anything but pleasure. he would never let you go unsatisfied. you love him, after all. this tender dance of flesh and bliss is what lovers do.
re-emerging into reality is like breaking through the fog of a lovely dream. you come to with your cheek resting against his chest, body clean and dry and delightfully sated. though you know he hasn’t had a pulse for several hundred years, you swear you hear the gentle thud of his heart beating as he traces absentminded patterns over your skin.
“did i love you well?”
“you were perfect.” a soft smile pulls at his lips. warmth floods your chest, followed by a pang of… of something. something aching, something hurt. you brush it aside. there is no room for hurt in his arms. you have loved him well. you have pleased him.
“thank you,” you murmur, a tender prayer against his skin. the last of his influence drains from your limbs, and you’re once again in full control of your own mind. the loss of his familiar presence in your mind hits you like waves crashing upon the shore. “i miss you already, master.”
he considers you with an inscrutable expression, and he sighs, warm and playfully exaggerated. again, you catch a hint of that odd, misplaced resignation. it almost makes you pout. is he unhappy with you after all? is he dissatisfied?
the need to reassure, to be reassured, drives you forward, and you pepper chaste kisses over the elegant curve of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. your sloppy adoration draws a soft laugh from his lips, and satisfaction settles in your heart once more.
“you’re so needy, darling,” he says, nuzzling his nose against yours. “but i love you for it.”
the declaration soothes you— a healing balm for all of your little aches and pains. he always knows just what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger.
“i’d do anything for you,” you say, and you mean it. “i’d give anything for you. everything, all of me, for you.”
the words darken his gaze, snuffing out the spark of regret you’d sensed in his expression for good. your heart flutters. this is how your master should look— confident, powerful. satisfied. happy.
a smile curls, smoke from the ashes, on his lips. it’s sharp; it bleeds at the edges, dark and possessive. “i know, little love. all of you, for me. just as it should be.”
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Good boy
Kinktober ‘24 - face sitting/submission
Hunter × F!reader
Rating: Explicit
Wordcount: 2k
Summary: You're part of the Bad Batch for a while and the tension between you and Hunter is about to snap.
Notes: This is the first time writing sub!Hunter and I have to credit @bring-backup-99 for making me fall in love with the idea of Hunter subbing. This fic is also meant as a little gift for you, for treating us so well to now already over 50!!! chapters of Bad Choices, I hope you like it. Tags: mutual pinning, sub! and simping Hunter, face sitting, oral f receiving. This is one of a few shorter fics I wrote for Kinktober. If you have any special kink and clone you would love to see, my requests are open.
It started innocently enough - fleeting glances, soft smiles exchanged when no one was looking - but it wasn't long before the tension between you and Hunter became impossible to ignore. He was always there, watching you with that quiet intensity, the unspoken need burning in his eyes. It drove you crazy, the way he hovered close, always attentive, always trying to make sure you were safe and taken care of.
But it wasn't just his protectiveness that got to you.
No, it was the way he looked at you.
Like he wanted to devour you. And that face - his strong, sharp features, that jawline, and his nose. The way his nose curved, slightly prominent and perfectly shaped. You couldn't stop thinking about it. How it would feel pressed between your legs, grinding against you while his mouth worked you over.
You'd fantasized about riding his face more times than you could count, imagining his tongue buried inside you, your hands tugging his hair while you used his nose to rub yourself to climax. His face, especially his nose, just looked so... rideable.
And the way he practically worshiped you with his eyes every time you were around, you knew he wanted it too. He seemed so desperate to please you.
Today the ship was quiet, the others out on a supply run, leaving just you and Hunter alone with not much to do. It had been a while since the two of you had been alone, and the silence between you had grown thick during the last hour, filled with the weight of your unspoken desires.
Hunter paced around the ship restlessly, pretending to do repairs. You watched him from your seat, biting back a smile at how worked up he was getting. He’d been trying to hide it for weeks, the way he looked at you, how his gaze lingered just a little too long. But you saw through him — you always did.
Finally, he stopped, running a hand through his hair he took a deep breath.
"I can’t do this anymore," he admitted, voice rough with frustration. His eyes were pleading, searching for any kind of relief.
You raised an eyebrow, acting innocent. “Do what, exactly?”
He turned to face you fully, swallowing hard before speaking.
“Pretending that there’s nothing happening between us. That I’m not thinking about you every damn second and slowly loosing my mind.”
The vulnerability in his voice made your heart skip, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you crossed your legs slowly, watching his eyes flicker down to the movement, and you saw how his throat bobbed as he swallowed again.
“And what do you expect me to do about that?”
His shoulders tensed, you could see how hard he was holding himself back.
“Anything. Whatever you want,” he said, almost breathless. “Just—" He paused, his voice dropping into a desperate whisper, "I need you.”
You leaned back, allowing the power to shift in your favor. The way he looked at you, so raw and needy, sent a wave of heat through you. You had him exactly where you wanted.
“You need me?” you repeated slowly, savoring the way he hung on your every word.
Hunter nodded, his eyes wide, waiting, like a man on the edge, desperate for permission.
“Please,” he rasped.
You took your time, letting him sweat under your gaze.
A smile played on your lips as you stood up, moving toward him, savoring the way his breath hitched with each step. You stopped just inches from him, looking up into his beautiful golden brown eyes.
Hunter let his hands slide up your sides, gripping you like he was afraid you'd slip away.
"Want to see you fall apart for me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, inhaling your scent.
"Want to taste you," he breathed out, the words tumbling from his lips with no hesitation.
The thought sent heat straight to your core, but you didn't plan on making it easy for him. You leaned back, looking into his eyes, enjoying the way he seemed so desperate for your approval.
“Then get on your back,” you said softly, watching the way his body tensed with anticipation, his eyes widening at the command.
“And take off your shirt”
He hesitated for only a second before obeying, stripping the top part of his blacks and lying down on one of the bunks, his eyes never leaving yours. His chest rose and fell rapidly, the anticipation making him tense in every part of his body.
You’ve seen him topless before but he looked even better now, so eager for you, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his caramel skin emphasizing his tattoo running down his chest and you noticed he was already sporting a prominent bulge. His blacks did a poor job at hiding it and you had to bite back a groan. The outline of his cock looked promising.
His broad form was sprawled across the narrow mattress, hands resting casually behind his head and his dark brown locks were slightly tousled but there was a tension in his jaw and the barely-restrained hunger in his gaze was impossible to miss.
You started by pulling your shirt over your head, your skin tingling under his intense stare. His breath hitched, though he stayed silent, watching.
You teased him, unbuttoning your pants slowly, sliding them down inch by inch until they pooled at your feet. Hunter shifted, his eyes trailing down your body.
Your fingers reached behind to unclasp your bra, letting it drop to the floor. The weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear, heat building low in your belly as you felt exposed in the best way.
Finally, you hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties and slipped them down your legs, standing before him, completely bare.
Hunter didn't move right away, but the look in his eyes said everything - pure, raw need.
You relished the way his eyes darkened with desire, his control slipping as he took in every inch of your exposed skin. The cold air of the Marauder’s ventilation made you shiver, your nipples hardening from the sudden chill. It felt good to have such an effect on him.
With one step you closed the gap between you and reached behind his head to loosen his bandana. Before he could react you snatched it and with one swift motion you ran it through your soaked folds and threw it to the floor.
"Kriff," he growled dangerously, sitting up, reaching for you. "Please…"
“Please what?”
"I want you."
The desperation in his voice, the way he hung onto your every word, made you bolder. You pushed him back down and climbed onto the bunk, straddling his chest, your knees on either side of his head. You could feel the tension radiating off him, his hands hovering near your legs but not quite touching.
"Is this what you wanted?" you teased, leaning down slightly, your pussy hovering just above his mouth.
You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, his anticipation building with every second but not daring to touch you, not yet.
"Yes," he groaned, his voice thick with need.
His nose brushed against your inner thigh, and you shivered, your body responding to the feeling of his sharp features so close to where you wanted him. And you would get there, but you wanted to drag this out, make him wait a little longer.
“Such a beautiful pussy", he whimpered.
You couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to grind down on him, to ride his nose and make him watch as you used him for your own pleasure.
"I know you've been thinking about it for weeks, devouring me with your eyes", you murmured, running your fingers through his thick, curly hair, tugging slightly and earning a moan from him in return.
"Yes," he gasped, his hands twitching at his sides, "…been dreaming about it too... please, I need you."
“What is it that you want Hunter? Use your words.”
“I want you, want to touch you…to taste you, want to bury my cock in your pussy…I…I…anything…just let me make you come”
“So desperate” you said softly, “If you’ll be good Hunter, maybe I’ll let you fuck me. But first…”
You smiled, your heart racing as you finally lowered yourself onto his mouth, feeling his lips part eagerly and he licked a slow, deliberate line up your folds. His tongue was hot, wet, and perfect, and you let out a shaky breath as the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.
"Just like that," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.
Hunter groaned against you, his hands finally coming up to grip your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you like a man starved. His tongue flicked against your clit, teasing and circling as he sucked and licked, his nose pressing firmly against your mound. The feel of it, the pressure of his nose grinding against you as he worked his tongue deeper, was everything you'd imagined.
“Good boy”, you whimpered and earned a moan from him in return.
You started to move, grinding your pussy down against his face, riding his tongue and nose as he eagerly took everything you gave him. His moans vibrated through you, and you could feel how much he loved this - how much he loved being used, being under you, pleasing you, worshipping you with his mouth.
"Yes," you moaned, lewd sounds falling from your lips, your fingers tightening and tugging his hair as you moved faster, feeling the tension coil tighter in your core.
"You're doing so good, Hunter... so good for me."
His grip on your thighs tightened, his breath coming in heavy pants between licks as he worked harder, desperate to make you come.
"Please come for me," he mumbled, his voice barely audible against your wetness. "Please... let me make you fall apart."
The sound of him begging, his tongue buried inside you, his nose grinding perfectly against your clit - it was delicious. Your hips moved faster, chasing your release as you rode his face, using him for your pleasure. You could feel the tension in your body snap, your orgasm crashing over you as you ground down hard against his mouth.
“Don’t hold back mesh’la, make a mess of me”
"Fuck, Hunter," you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure surged through you, wave after wave of ecstasy. You could feel him groaning beneath you, his tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.
Before overstimulation settled in you pulled back slightly, still high on dopamine and out of breath. When you peeked down at him he looked absolutely beautiful. His face was glistening with your juices, his lips and chin soaked from devouring you. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression completely blissed out, like he'd just tasted heaven and couldn't get enough.
Your thighs still shook around his head when you slowly came down from your high and lowered yourself onto his chest. You leaned back reaching for his cock, he felt good, big and with a nice girth, you shuddered thinking about how good he would fill you, but you were pulled out of your thoughts when your felt something wet. You glanced down, surprised to see a dark stain spreading across the lower part of his blacks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he panted beneath you.
He'd come.
He'd come just from eating you out.
You smirked, sliding off of him, watching as he blinked up at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen and glistening with your arousal. You settled in beside him resting your head on his chest.
"Looks like you enjoyed yourself," you teased, brushing a hand over the tip of his cock and the wet spot on his pants. Hunter groaned, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You nuzzled his neck with your nose, he smelled heavenly.
"I couldn't help it”, he admitted, his voice rough. "You're just... you're so everything I ever wanted."
You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly.
“Who would have thought you could be so obedient, Hunter”, you murmured against his lips, letting your fingers trail through the soft hair on his chest.
"Maybe next time... I'm going to ride you properly, I bet that dick is going to feel so good."
His eyes darkened, a satisfied smile curling at the edges of his lips.
“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you what that dick can do.”
#bottom hunter#sub!hunter#tbb hunter#tbb#hunter smut#hunter x reader#tbb hunter x reader#sergeant hunter/reader#the bad batch#sw tbb#the bad batch smut
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I Wish You Would // William Nylander
Tropes & Topics: childhood friends to enemies to lovers, resolved angst, poor communication, angst
Word Count: 4K
{This is my submission for @typical-simplelove for The Summer Fic Exchange 2k24, organized by the amazing @wyattjohnston!)
Will checked the time on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time this morning. He knew there were hours left to go before you and your family arrived but his nerves were forcing him to watch time too closely. He’d seen your parents and brother, Ryan, numerous times over the years. You, however, he hadn’t seen or spoken to in over a decade.
As kids, you two had been thick as thieves for the few years both of your dads played together on the Rangers. But a lot had changed since then, most of which his foolish teenage self had put into motion. Still, as Will realized how close he was to seeing you again, his heart skipped a beat while dread dropped his stomach.
Will was beyond excited for his first family skate at Madison Square Garden. He’d gone to a few games already but actually being on the ice? He was jumping out of his skin with excitement, much to his mother’s annoyance and father’s amusement.
When his skates finally hit the ice, he slowly circled the rink, eyes wide as he took in the arena surrounding him. He was so engrossed he nearly collided with you, quickly grabbing your arms to steady you, you doing the same to him.
“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked, worried he’d get in trouble.
“Yeah, are you?” you replied and he nodded, quickly removing his hands from your shoulders.
“I’m Y/N, who are you? You’re new.”
“Willy.”
“That’s a silly name” you giggled and his cheeks flamed hot.
“It is not!” he replied, frowning deeply. You simply shrugged, seemingly letting it drop.
“Do you want to race?” you asked and he nodded, counting down only for you to jump the gun and leave on 2.
“Hey!” he shouted, annoyed, but couldn’t fight his smile at the peal of your laughter ahead of him. He quickly was catching up, convinced he’d easily lap you as the distance closed between you. Just as he was about to reach you, your legs pumped even faster somehow and you crossed the imaginary finish line, fists pumping in victory. “That doesn’t count, you cheated!”
“If you’re embarrassed to lose to a girl, you shouldn’t have raced me.”
“That’s not it, my sisters beat me in races all the time. It’s the cheating that makes it not count.”
You stared him down as you caught your breath and then finally nodded. “Redo?”
“Redo.”
***
“If you sigh one more time, I’m going to push you out of this car” your brother threatened and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him.
“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.”
“You know how important this is to mom” he argued and you pointedly sigh again, making him groan in annoyance.
“I know, which is why I’m here.” A long comfortable silence fell, each to your own thoughts.
“What even happened with you and Will?” he questioned quietly. When you didn’t answer he pushed on, “You never told any of us.”
“Some things aren’t worth revisiting, Ryan.”
***
You were bouncing out of your seat in excitement as your family’s rental car rolled up the final hill before reaching the Nylander house. “Can you calm down?” Ryan groaned but you ignored him.
Willy and you had grown close during the two years your dads played for the Rangers together. You were both fiercely competitive and obsessed with hockey which easily forged a strong bond. Willy’s dad had re-signed elsewhere during the last off-season though so you hadn’t seen him since early fall when his new team had come to the Garden. You and Will had made the most of the quick visit, skating at Central Park and eating with your families at your favorite restaurants. You hadn’t realized how much you relied on his friendship until it was gone, so you’d been looking forward to this trip to Sweden for half the season.
“Oh there it is!” you cheered and were out of the car as soon as it was parked, despite your mom yelling to be more careful. You quickly greeted his parents and sisters as they ushered you into the house.
“Will and Alex are out back with a couple friends, we’ll come out with dinner soon” his mom informed you, sending you eagerly sprinting out the sliding glass doors.
You quickly spotted the two blonde brothers alongside a couple of boys you didn’t know. “Hey guys!” you called and Alex greeted you with a wave and a smile. You were a little confused when Will just nodded at you without coming closer; you were used to hugging your hello’s.
You much more slowly approached the group and were grateful when Alex opened his arms for a hug. You naturally moved to grip Willy next but he didn’t return the hug, causing you to frown at him.
“You okay?”
Yeah, I’m great, we’re just in the middle of a game. We’ll see you at dinner, yeah?” Will said, turning his back and kicking the soccer ball at his feet.
You flinched at his coldness and Alex sent you a sympathetic frown before you turned and went inside. What changed? You knew you two weren’t chatting as much but you didn’t realize something was wrong. You feigned exhaustion from your trip and laid down in your guest bed, declining to go down for dinner.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” your mom asked, gently laying a plate on your bed and placing her hand to your forehead.
“Yeah, I just think the travel caught up to me.”
“Will you be up for a skate after dinner? They wanted to show us their local rink.”
“Sure, yeah, I think so” you nodded, eager to have the common ground of hockey with Will again.
As you joined the Nylanders for the drive, Alex talked your ear off but Will was distant, eyes firmly focused out the window. When you all were in the rink, skates tied tightly and beginning to warm up, you reapproached Will, easily matching his pace. “Are you mad at me or something?” you asked quietly, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop.
“No, I’m not,” he said but didn’t say anything else.
“You’re acting weird, I don’t understand” you pushed, angry at the tears forming behind your eyes and clogging your throat.
“We’re teenagers now, I don’t want to be hanging around a girl as a friend. It doesn’t make sense.”
You tried to process his words but came up blank, “Will, of course we can still be friends.” You noted his flushed face and couldn’t fathom why he was avoiding you and trying to end your friendship just because you were both 13 now. You said the only thing you could think of: “Can we just race?”
“Will you leave me alone if I do?” he spat back and you shoved him, not quite playfully, with your shoulder.
“Only if you win” you goaded and he counted down from 3 before you two were off. You’d been working hard on your skating and were pleased to find yourself in the lead. You didn’t have much size on you yet so to stay on your team’s roster, speed and skill were critical.
As you rounded the final corner with Will close on your heels, you heard him huff in frustration before making himself even with you. You focused, pumping your legs faster, when suddenly Willy veered dangerously close to you. Without thinking, you cut away but lost your edge, flying into the boards shoulder fist.
“Crap, are you okay?” he asked, breathless.
“You did that on purpose you asshole!” you shrieked, quickly getting back on your feet.
“Y/N, language!” your father chastised.
“He did! You were going to lose and you went to trip me” you glared fiercely at him and he didn’t argue your point. The tense silence stretched between you and your families before Willy finally raised his eyes to meet yours. “You’re pathetic, William” you spat, quickly leaving the ice, Ryan close behind.
***
As you stepped out of your rental, Will felt like he was staring at a ghost. As kids, you’d always been cute but you were stunning now. He wasn’t surprised; he recalled with embarrassment how flustered he’d felt during your first trip to Sweden. He understood now he’d had a crush on you but at the time, he just didn’t like these new uncomfortable feelings or how his friends had teased him about having a friend for a girl who wasn’t a girlfriend.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he startled slightly when you were suddenly directly before him. “Sorry, wasn’t trying to spook you there” you said blandly, eyes cold. “Wouldn’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”
He ignored the pointed reference to his previously embarrassing actions replying, “How was your flight?”
“It was fine, thanks” you replied, offering a smile that didn’t remotely reach your eyes. “How was your season? What year is it now in the big leagues?”
Shame flooded his system as your words pulled another memory to mind, the last time he’d seen you before being cut completely from your life.
***
It was the final night of your family’s annual trip to Sweden. He hated these visits. They reminded him of how close you’d been and how much he’d blown your friendship up. But he didn’t know how to fix it so he kept his distance, ignoring your brother’s constant glares as you grew closer to Alex and his sisters. Since the girls were younger than you, they were absolutely obsessed, clinging to every word you said and subtly copying your mannerisms. He’d have found it endearing if it didn’t mean he’d have constant reminders of you long after you’d left the country.
Somehow, you two ended up next to one another at the restaurant but you were dutifully ignoring each other. The girls got sleepy before dessert though so Alex offered to drive them home so your parents could enjoy the visit longer; this left you, Ryan, and him on one side of the table, deathly quiet in comparison to the uproarious conversation your parents were having. Ryan excused himself to go to the restroom and Will couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“So, what are your plans once you’re back home?”
“I leave for UConn in a few weeks.”
Another torturous silence descended and he filled it without thinking, “I have the draft in a couple weeks. Though that’s nothing compared to getting ready for D1 hockey” he smiled but the painful look that crossed your face stopped him in his tracks. “Hey, I didn’t mean–”
“Didn’t mean to what, William? Belittle me getting into one of the best women hockey programs in the country? Tease me since you know I’ll never be able to make an actual living as a pro?”
“No, that’s not what I–”
“You don’t think I realized a long time ago that you won our competitions just by being a dude?” you retorted, voice quiet but filled with pain and fury as he saw tears forming in your eyes.
“I’ve never thought of it that way, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
“The mood that you’ve left us in for years now because of your childishness? Your pettiness? Well, don’t worry, you won’t have to think about dealing with me any longer.”
“Y/N/N, wait” you begged, hand reaching for yours instinctively. You ripped it away, anger and sadness all over your face–pain that he’d inadvertently put there again. The entire table fell silent.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore, William” you spat, stalking towards your brother who’d just emerged from the bathroom. “Take me home, Ry.”
***
And that had been the last time he’d ever seen you for over a decade now. He’d look at your social media occasionally before you’d privated it several years back but you’d fully shut him out that fateful evening despite remaining in contact with the rest of his family. You’d also steadfastly refused to do the family trips and while both sides were curious about what had occurred, neither of you had given details. Will’s silence on the matter was born from embarrassment; he never knew why you didn’t just throw him under the bus–he deserved it.
The dinner that evening passed smoothly, you choosing your seat as far from Will as possible. He was relieved to see your shoulders loosen and your smile grow more genuine as the evening progressed, your armor against him not keeping you from the rest of your childhood friends.
That night, he was tossing and turning as each key moment replayed painfully in his mind. He sighed, finally rising from bed around 1AM to go outside and get some fresh air. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, curled up in a blanket, eyes focused on the dying fire before you. He tried to turn back around but bumped into the grill, causing a terrible metal ringing sound to pierce the quiet night.
He glanced your way to find your eyes firmly on him. “Were you trying to sneak away?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say sneak, I just didn’t want to bother you” he replied, cheeks warming.
“It's your house, William.”
“Yeah but you’re the guest” he argued and you shrugged. You two held eye contact for a moment. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I join you?”
Your only response was to slide over on the couch, making plenty of room for him to sit beside you. A silence descended but Will refused to not take this chance to fix what he could. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. For all the shit I pulled when we were kids. And I’m sorry I never apologized before now, I just didn't want to make things worse.”
You snorted, “How could things have gotten worse?”
He thought it over, “I guess I meant I didn’t want to hurt you more.”
You finally looked at him again and he withstood your sharp eyes assessing him and his words. “Did you mean to trip me?”
“No, never” he swore, turning to face you fully. “I wanted to spook you to win, which was dirty, but I never wanted to hurt you.”
You nodded and a brief smile crossed your mouth, “It seems silly now, we were so young.”
“Yeah but we both know it wasn’t the tripping that sealed the deal” he admitted quietly. “That was a shitty thing to say and I knew better.”
“You didn’t though” you argued and he frowned. “We weren’t adults yet, Will. You felt awkward and tried to tease me like you had when we were kids because you didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know you were salting an open wound.”
“You did amazing at UConn” he offered and was met with a genuine smile.
“You watched?”
“All the time” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“It does?”
“Yeah, Will. You were important to me as a kid and those feelings never went away, there was just so much confusion and pain on top of them. I was over the moon when you got drafted to Toronto. I started and deleted like dozens of congratulations texts” you admitted and he grinned.
“Thanks, Y/N/N” he said without thinking. “Shit, sorry.”
“No, it’s fine Willy” you said sincerely, and he froze in place as you shifted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He tentatively wrapped an arm around you and you burrowed in deeper. It felt so right to have you this close to him again.
After a comfortable silence, he felt you yawn beside him and he gently pinched your arm. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”
He felt you nod against him before moving away to stretch your arms; he followed the movement, taken by how graceful you still were all these years later.
“Can we have a fresh start?” he requested. “I’ve missed you.”
“Fresh start” you agreed, offering your hand, which he eagerly took in his own to shake firmly. His heart stuttered when you didn’t remove it from his grasp so he gently helped you up. Hope flooded his system as your hands remained intertwined as he escorted you to your room.
At your door, you pulled him into a tight embrace. “Want to get coffee and breakfast tomorrow? Just us two?” you asked and he nodded eagerly before releasing you.
“It’s a date.”
***
You slept much better than expected and woke the next morning feeling rested and relieved. You were glad Will had found you the night before and hopeful the rift could be mended.
He’d hurt you as a kid, there was no denying that. But as time passed, you realized that he never had ill intentions. And part of what you’d loved about him as a kid was how silly and impulsive he’d been–you just hadn’t anticipated how those same traits could cause such unintentional damage.
As you finished fixing your hair you heard a knock on the door, “Come in!”
Will poked his head in, “Ready to go? You look wonderful.”
You preened at his praise, surprised and a little embarrassed that your long ago crush seemed to have not shrunk over your many years apart.
At the coffee shop, you were shocked when we remembered all your favorite Swedish pastries as he ordered for the table. You’d been too young when you’d last been together for him to know your coffee order though so you gave that yourself.
“Thanks, Will, I appreciate it” you grinned once you two were settled with your treats.
“I’m happy to” he smiled at you and it caused your heart to stutter slightly. He sat before you a grown man but his smile hadn’t lost its boyishness. “So, how’s life been? Your parents share the basics sometimes but I don’t really know much else.”
You reflected on the last decade, debating what was worth mentioning. “Well, I graduated from UConn with my physical therapy and business double majors.”
“And two championships” he added and you laughed, shaking your head.
“I still can’t believe you kept tabs on my hockey like that,” you admitted.
“It was the least I could do. I always knew you were an amazing player and getting to see it play out on TV was cool, though I wish I could have been there for some of the bigger moments.”
His admission brought tears to your eyes but you quickly blinked them away as you cleared your throat. “Thanks, Willy. I wish you’d been there too, I’ve missed you.”
He smiled sadly at your words, “And now?”
Your anxiety spiked, dreading having to share this information. “I bounced around doing hockey PT at a few different colleges in the US before I joined the University of Toronto training staff about five years ago.”
Silence filled the space and you forced yourself to finally meet his gaze. Pain was in his eyes but you could see he was trying to hide it.
“That’s amazing, congratulations” he offered and you nodded your thanks. “How did I not know we’ve been in the same city all these years?”
“It’s a big city.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
You sighed, nodding your agreement, “I asked everyone not to mention it to you. You were busy, I was busy, and at that point five years had passed, we weren’t friends anymore. I didn’t want to pick the scab. Plus, what would you have done if you’d known?”
“I’d have reached out as soon as I knew you were there. I just never wanted to do it over the phone but if I knew you were in Toronto? I would’ve apologized even if you never forgave me.”
His sincerity clogged your throat with emotions, “I’m sorry, I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of you knowing I was there and not caring enough to reach out. To have it confirmed that our lives had separated too much to repair the gap. I mean, you play for the Leafs now, and I’m just…me.”
“Hey” he said sternly, pulling your eyes back to his face. He reached for your hand and you gladly let him run soothing circles on your palm. “You’re you, Y/N/N. Not just you. I would never have even thought to think of it the way you just did.”
“Was that a sentence?” you teased and he threw his head back in laughter and it filled you with joy; you’d forgotten what a marvelous sound it was to experience, to cause.
“I never claimed to be brilliant, okay?” he responded and you giggled, squeezing his hand. “When we’re both back in the city, can we please meet up? I’d love to have you at a game or just to meet my friends. That place is home now.”
You nodded, “I’d love that…and it is for me too. This season, I’m actually doing my first year as an assistant coach.”
“Tell me everything, that’s amazing!”
And you did, words flowing easily between you now. You were both relieved and shocked that your connection, forged so many years ago and ignored for even longer, healed so quickly, so effortlessly. You’d forgotten how charming he is, how at ease he makes you feel, how much he always encouraged you.
Before you knew it, your phone was ringing because it was well past lunch and Ryan was worried they couldn’t find you.
“Should we head back? I know the big welcome bash is tonight.”
“Want to grab some lunch, just us first?” Will asked and you nodded eagerly, texting your brother the update before following Willy to one of his favorite spots.
***
That night, the Nylander estate was flooded with extended family and friends. There was amazing food, plenty of booze, and music played long into the night.
“Well, now that you two are all good, can you please tell me what happened?” Ryan pushed and you shoved him with your shoulders.
“No, it makes even less sense now. It was stupid and it’s done, alright?”
“Fine, fine” he sighed dramatically and you rolled your eyes. “I’m glad you came, sis.”
“Don’t get sappy on me now” you teased and he chuckled. You heard your name called from the dance floor and you laughed at Will’s sisters motioning for you to join them.
You easily waded into the crowd, losing yourself in the music and enjoying some of your best friends’ company–these girls were like little sisters to you. Before long, Will and Alex had joined and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but you suddenly realized how closely you were dancing with Willy.
“You look beautiful” he said directly into your ear, wanting to make sure you heard him over the music but that no one else could.
“Thanks” you replied, feeling shy, as you ducked your head. The strand of hair that consequently fell in your face was gently brushed aside by Will’s gentle, calloused fingers. Your eyes rose to meet his as he tucked your hair behind your ears.
His gaze was intense and you could barely breathe when his palm cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone so slowly it caused goosebumps to rise to your skin. Despite the music pounding from the speakers and the dancing bodies around you, you two stood, unmoving, staring into each other’s eyes. Your gaze dipped down to his mouth, silently begging for him to close the gap and kiss you.
A second later he did, the two of you meeting in the middle as all the tension, good and bad, was released. His lips were soft and your mouths moved together in perfect synchronicity, your movements slow as you two explored each other for the first time. When he tilted your head to get better access, you released a soft sigh that he hungrily devoured, his hands curling tighter into your hair. Your own hands settled on his chest and you allowed yourself to get lost in him, his scent surrounding you, his touch both soothing and exciting, your tongues twining harmoniously.
The spell was broken by loud whoops and cheers from nearby and you two lurched apart, breathing heavily. Embarrassment flooded your system as you saw both sets of parents and siblings clapping and cheering you two on.
“Only took a decade and a half, you goofs!” Alex called.
“If you hurt her again you’re dead!” Ryan added.
“Guys!” you both chastised at the same time before erupting into giggles, you happily hiding your face in his chest.
Another installment of 'Taylor's incapable of writing a short fic.' I hope y'all enjoyed, especially Claudia 🫶🏻
#william nylander#william nylander fic#william nylander imagine#william nylander x reader#william nylander blurb#nhl fic#nhl blurb#toronto maple leafs imagine#The Summer Fic Exchange 2k24
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There's a bit of fanfiction negativity in the tags :(. Looking for something to cheer me up, what's your personal scogan fanfic favorites?
Yeah, I saw that, both in the scogan and scogean tag, with posts even including the character name tags. Like. Not cool, people. Way to make authors feel shitty who have been guarding the ship lighthouse for the last 20 years. Claiming in the most popular tags, there's only like 1 good fic among more than 1500? Wow, okay. So I was very happy to receive your ask. Let's counter that negativity with some awesome scogan reads!
Damaged by scottxlogan
Can't do any scogan rec list without including the leading authority on the subject. @scottxlogan is the author who pulled me into this ship years ago, not to mention they're a great friend, unbelievably talented writer and artist, and they deserve all the love. Damaged is surely one of their most ambitious projects and deserves every single view, kudos and review out there. Set in the DOFP finale verse that is no doubt the author's specialty, the story comes with an alluring, intricated plot that leaves you on the edge of your seat along with all the feels.
Submission by scottxlogan
I'm also including a newer work by the same author in case you just want to get a feel for how wonderfully she writes these guys, not to mention the shameless steamy goodness that are the author's smut scenes. scottxlogan is an expert at reversing common fandom tropes believably, and this will leave you longing for more of these power exchanges easily.
he carries the reminders by Wolfsheart
@mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea is another great friend and author I would trust even with my biggest squicks (not that she writes those anyway :D). She's not only technically brillant and very well-versed in the lore which makes every pairing she writes a great read (check out her Tony/Emma, too!), but she'll also never fail to make you laugh or put those hearts in your eyes. And don't miss all those pop culture references that even put Peter Parker to shame! She also gives us scogan fans exactly what we need with stories like this one, combining our fav hurt/comfort tropes with a healthy dose of canon fix it.
I loved you since I knew you by strangenewwords
@strangenewwords is a fairly new and dearly beloved addition to our group at @scoganbingo events, but she's already made a huge impact with her delicious smut and angst stories that hit you right in the feels. Technically also brillant, the linked story is definitely one you don't want to get spoilered for beforehand because the ending will leave you in absolute awe and tears. The author doesn't shy away from including the darkest sides of Scott's past but handles every subject with the necessary care and respect, and as I said ... You don't want to miss out on all that delicious smut!
The Day Before the Soldiers Came by Cerylid
Cery is offering a much-needed fixit for the team dynamics between the X-Men and Logan before X2 with this story. It comes with a lot of humor but also far more feels than you expect. The texting is hilarious but it's the quiet tones that get to you.
*****
Speaking of fix-its, since that negativity in the tags kinda got to me, too, I might just throw in one of my own works here too since I also got lots of Scogan stuff out there.
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
is basically my go-to X3 fix-it. You look for something to make that movie right, you got it all right there. Along with a bit of horror (we are talking about resurrection, after all) comes a dramatic rescue mission in a mental limbo, and you get an Avenger and Emma Frost guest-starring. There's a couple of follow up chapters that explore both scogan and Tony/Emma a bit further, and we even get a Laura version in old movieverse along the line, and of course all the nasty nasty smut you guys are here for.
########
So, that's it from the top of my hat. All these accounts have even more great stories to check out, and there's lots of other scogan authors out there with great stories to enjoy. So don't let anyone tell you, there's no quality scogan stuff on AO3.
#sometimes stormy gets asked things#greyskulls#scogan#scott summers#wolverine#fic rec#fic recs#cyclops#scott x logan#cyclops x wolverine#if people are interested#i can look up some scogean too#i feel pretty much alone with my works in that section often#but there a few gems
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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥𝓘𝓘
In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.
↳ fic masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist
a/n: the penultimate chapter, everyone. I can't believe we've made it so far. i hope this story kinda works...it was my first time doing longform and one day i will rewrite all of this to make more sense, but for now its as it is. I love you all.
Loki knew it was improper of him to have met you without a chaperone-like that, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted, no need, to see you. Damn the consequences. Still, guilt gnawed at him. You were innocent in these games, merely appeasing a figure bigger than yourself. He could relate to that.
On Sundays, he had breakfast with his mother. Thor was usually in meetings with the Allfather, but Loki was never truly wanted there and preferred to spend time with the lady of the house anyway. Their usual tea and assortment of pastries didn’t improve wasn't his mood, though, and he still felt contemplative. Frigga noticed.
"My son, what is wrong?" She questioned, putting her teacup down. She always drank jasmine, a delicacy they got from Odin's dealings with China. She preferred the lighter floral flavor to the Queen's English breakfast tea.
"Nothing is wrong, Mother," Loki lied, the words rolling off his tongue with ease. He was always good with lies. Unfortunately, his mother was even better at seeing through them.
"It wouldn't have anything to do with the Chilton girl, would it? The one your brother didn't marry?" Frigga delicately grabbed a scone as if she were discussing the weather. She was trained to gather information without making it seem like she was. Another thing Loki learned from her.
"The mamas of the ton gathered for tea the other day, and her Grandmother was discussing it," Frigga continued on. "Dreadful woman, truly, I don't envy those two girls."
Loki hid a laugh behind his hand, coughing instead and taking another sip of tea.
"She was very loudly complaining about her youngest granddaughter's willful spirit and how it would give her a heart attack one of these days," Frigga chuckled. Loki got the sense she remembered the many times he and Thor had given her a scare.
"Some of the other mamas made comments about how you and she seemed to spend more time together than she and Thor," Frigga spooned some sugar into her tea. "So, my son, I will ask you again if anything is wrong."
Loki took a pause at that, holding his tongue. He drummed his fingers on the table.
"I won't answer things you already know."
"Did something happen?" His mother raised a brow, a challenge in her gaze. His stubbornness was less from his father and more from his mother. She could will any man into submission.
"Nothing happened, mama," Loki sighed. Not a lie. Nothing happened. Although he wanted it to happen. He wanted to press his lips to yours, breathe in your scent, hold you so you could never fall away from him. Instead, he let go. He wouldn't be the stain on your life that he is on his fathers.
Frigga pursed her lips, observing him. She set down her tea cup and rested her hands on the table, something she only did when she was about to say something of importance. Loki braced himself for a lecture.
"Your brother is not a jealous man, and your father is a hard one to please," Frigga stated. "The only thing in the way of your happiness is yourself. I did not raise a fool." With that, Frigga excused herself from tea, leaving her son alone at the table. The only sound left in the room was the clicking of the grandfather clock, the minute hand matching the pace of his thoughts.
Loki liked you. He might even love you. That was the only logical explanation for his delusions. He rubbed his eyes, hating the tension building up behind them as he thought of the chaos he had caused by even getting involved in the life of you.
"Mother said I might find you here," Thor said from the doorway, walking over to the now vacant seat. Loki glanced up as Thor poured himself some tea. Or attempted to. He spilled some creamer and burned his fingers, picking up the cup from the body, not the handle.
"You need to wait for it to cool," Loki sighed, wiping up the spilled creamer. It's appalling to Loki that his oaf of a brother is the one expected to take over the Odinson household.
"I don't often drink tea."
"Clearly."
"But that's not why I'm here, brother," Thor ignores his jab, gingerly sipping his tea and visibly relaxing when it doesn't burn his tongue.
"Oh joy," Loki leaves the table, strolling towards one of the setees. He, of course, does this quite dramatically.
"I always thought you be clever, but I am shocked to find you acting so idiotic," Thor puts his tea down, standing up and heading Loki's way.
"How dare you–"
"Lady Y/N is obviously enamored with you, and you with her. I don't understand why you aren't doing anything about it," Thor sighs. "Is it your own stubbornness? A sense of pride? Please explain it to me."
"I am not enamored with her, and it is not stubbornness," Loki hisses. "She can do better than me, a second son, anyway."
"Is that what you truly believe? That you are really just a second son?"
Loki doesn't respond to that. He just stares out of the window overlooking the room. His mother was inspired by Greek architecture and, therefore, put arched pillars as separators for the open windows. They overlooked the veranda, which was starting to transition into autumn. Oh, how time has passed.
"I will be leaving for France in the coming months."
Loki turned to his brother, hiding a shock that otherwise would have covered his face.
"Leaving? For what?"
"For war," Thor said. "Napolean is out of exile, and his troops are approaching Waterloo. I intend to be there alongside my brothers."
"You must be mad."
"Perhaps," Thor laughed. "But I have always wanted to fight, not to sit behind a desk and manage the affairs of a household. You have always been a better diplomat. I much prefer being a soldier." His brother took a seat on the settee, running a hand through his hair and waiting for Loki to sit down. "Allfather will be declaring you the heir as soon as you are wed. So, no, Loki, you are not the second son. You are the better one."
"I don't deserve you," Loki frowned, finally sitting down next to Thor. "You are a better brother than I could ever be."
"Life has not always been kind to you; that is alright; you are learning," Thor said, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, demanding his attention. "You deserve peace, and you are allowed to have it."
It is not often that Loki becomes emotional. He is used to putting aside his own wants for the needs of the crown. He is used to enduring verbal backlash from his father over every little thing. He is used to being ignored when his brother enters a room. So often, he felt like a tablepiece in his own home. But truly, he was an idiot. His brother saw him the whole time.
Without another word, Loki embraced his brother, shocking them both. He was done being a tablepiece. He wanted to be seen.
~
"Letter!" Ivy screamed from the bottom of the stairs, immediately being shushed by one of the housekeepers. Immediately after your rendezvous with Loki, you had told Ivy everything. All of your fears, wants, and concerns. You had actively been courted by Thor; you couldn't pursue Loki. But he put you in a compromising position that could have gotten you in trouble in society. Did you like Loki? Or did you convince yourself you did? These were the questions swirling around your brain all week. Ivy was in favor of you running off and eloping if only to annoy Grandmother. You hit her with a pillow for that statement.
"Why would I be receiving a letter?" You ask, descending the stairs as you glared at the offending item.
"No clue, but I think you should look at it," Ivy said coyly. You got the distinct impression she knew exactly what this letter was about. You took it out of her grasp, peeling off the wax seal and reading the inked words.
Meet me at the ball by midnight tonight when we first conversed.
Loki
"So?" Ivy peered over your shoulder. "What did he say?"
"Poetic things," you drawled. "He has such a way with words."
"You're lucky the man likes your sharp tongue; otherwise, you'd scare off all the suitors," Ivy sighed. You suppressed a small smile. "So? Are you going?"
"Did you write this?" You ask her, turning around and crossing your arms.
"Of course I didn't!"
"Really?"
"I am not one to lie, sister," Ivy grabbed your hands, pulling you closer. "I am only the messenger. A messenger that is urging you to listen for once in your life." You only glared at your sister.
"I have nothing to wear."
"I already bought you a dress."
"You've been planning this, haven't you?"
"Perhaps," Ivy shrugged. "Now, c'mon! I want enough time to transform you."
You indeed didn't have a choice. Ivy was persistent when she set her mind to something. She yanked your hair left and right to transform it into a perfectly curled and pinned high bun. The dress she chose was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you had no clue where she could've possibly afforded something like it. It was a deep green with a traditional empire waist, but the bodice was covered in a lacy emerald green fabric and decorated with a glimmery trim. The skirt faded to a lighter emerald green at the bottom, giving the appearance of a forest being lit up by the sunrise. You wore your mother's necklace to match, something that grounded the outfit into something wholesome yet romantic.
"You look ethereal," Ivy looked at you in the vanity mirror. "You look like Mom."
You smiled, turning around to envelop your sister in a hug. "I love you, Ivy." She just squeezed you tighter. "I never want to go to another ball again; this is ridiculously tiresome." Ivy laughed at that and let you go, smoothing down the parts of your dress that got scrunched up.
This event took place outside, a last-ditch effort to enjoy the weather before winter set in. The ball was set on the lake, with a variety of lanterns floating through the waters and hanging around the pavilion where guests danced. It looked like a twinkling city, and it was one of the few times when your breath was taken away.
You were already getting more stares than usual from other people, perhaps because it was the first time you dressed up. Or perhaps because everyone knew that Thor didn't propose to you. You ignored their stares and found the first drink you could. It was a long way till midnight, and your nerves were already getting the better of you. You hiked up your skirts and found your way to the water's edge, where workers were helping guests set out lanterns of their own. You asked one of them if the lights were just for decoration or if there was a specific meaning.
"To drive out the darkness of winter and hope for a longer spring, m'lady," he bowed, offering you a lantern of your own. You accepted graciously, finding a quiet place farther down the shore to push your lantern out.
"Making a wish?" a familiar voice said. You turned to see Loki, arms crossed and looking every bit the prince he was meant to be.
"Driving away the darkness, at least that's what they told me," you gestured towards where most of the partygoers were.
"I believe in some traditions; it is also to honor the dead."
"What a somber occasion for a party."
"I surmise they didn't truly know the reason; they thought it would be pretty." Loki shrugged, earning a chuckle from you. You closed up again, remembering that awkward encounter all those nights ago. Turning to your lantern, you looked at the water before returning to the prince.
"We need more lanterns," you declared, marching back to the initial servant who gave you yours. Loki followed behind, not saying anything, but you could tell he wanted to ask. You got three more lanterns and passed two to Loki, returning to the spot you scoped out before.
"Do I dare ask what you're doing?"
"Honoring the deceased," you crouched down, taking one of the lanterns from Loki so you had three. He joined you on the ground, letting you have a moment with your three lanterns. Taking a breath, you pushed them all out on the water. He waited for a second to let his drift away as well.
"To your sister," you said, bowing your head slightly.
"To your family, may they find brighter shores," Loki breathed, eyes softening as he looked at you.
You both continued sitting on the shores, not making a move to get up. If anyone caught you in this position, it would be trouble, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
"We can't go back, can we?" you whispered, looking out at the lanterns getting farther and farther from shore.
"No, we can't."
"Then, why haven't you asked me?" your voice cracked slightly, your eyes finding Loki's.
"Because I'm worried I don't deserve you."
"That isn't up to you to decide, is it?" you inquired, raising a brow. Loki's mouth tilted up in a smile as if trying his best to suppress it but failing miserably.
"I should probably ask then."
"Most likely, before the fireworks start and I am unable to hear you stumble through your speech," you jested, sliding back into your old routine so easily. Loki sat up, offering you a hand, which you took gratefully as you smoothed out, your dress.
"Such a sharp tongue on you; will that ever change?" Loki questioned.
"Most likely not."
"Good," Loki grinned. "I wouldn't want anything else."
"You're stalling."
"I might be a wordsmith, but being vulnerable is not something I particularly enjoy," Loki responded. "But with you, I am forced to be vulnerable, and it rather terrifies me. Except, I keep coming back despite that fear because a day without you is a day without the sun." Loki let out a breath, brows furrowed. He looked so serious, and you thought you had never seen him so handsome. "Y/N…marry me."
"Yes," you responded, grinning. "Now, I think I am owed something."
"Yes, yes you are."
Loki wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, gentle yet strong in a way that had you yearning for more. The fireworks erupted in the background, the party cheering for the colorful display of lights and excitement. You yourself felt like a firework, quickly bursting into a million specks coating the sky. And you wouldn't have it any other way.
taglist: @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @gruftiela @saay-karani @foxherder @lover-of-books-and-tea @lilaclaufeyson @gardasngan @evasmlp @swampespresso
#of vices and men#loki#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson x reader#loki imagine#loki laufeyson imagine#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston x reader#marvel#marvel fics#my writing
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Odds were against us - John Marino
A/N: My submission for @wyattjohnston Winter Fic Exchange 2k24! This is the first time I have participated in a fic exchange and wow has it been really fun for me! Thank you so much, Demi, for being a gracious host and your rockstar organization!
@pcttymcrlecu I hope you love this as much as I enjoyed creating it for you. Also, I am IN LOVE with the song inso for this. I listened to it on repeat the entire time I was working on this. Thank you for sharing 🥰
Song Inspo: Solider by James TW
Word Count: 2.5k
The odds were against you.
Well, maybe not right away. You did grow up two houses down from each other.
But once you moved away for college, the world seemed to keep you apart as much as it flirted with the idea that you two could be together.
Growing up, it was the Masschusettes version of the three musketeers: John, Paul, and you. There was never a Marino brother around without you. Living on the same street had great perks, like a hockey net to shoot at, a ton of legos, and endless nights spent on their backyard play set.
From the beginning, John and you had a connection. Even as his twin brother was supposed to know him the best, you always seemed to be on the same page with your buddy. For years growing up, you and John had been tango-ing with will they, won't they, before he went to Harvard and you went to theUniversity of Pittsburgh. The next three years, every time you were both home, the tango continued. Both dating other people, never wanting to ruin the friendship, finding excuses for why you could never talk about the elephant in the room.
Then, John left Harvard after his junior year to play for the Pittsburgh Penguins. You were thrilled to show him the city! You took him to your favorite restaurants and introduced him to your college friends. It was you sitting next to his brother and his parents, in a freshly pressed Marino jersey, as he did his solo rookie lap in black and yellow.
It was you who left Pittsburgh a year later.
While others in your major wanted to be at Google and Microsoft, you wanted to use your computer science degree for good. When the call came for your dream job at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory in Golden, Colorado, you knew you had to decide. You loved John, but he didn’t know, and it was hard to imagine a life where you stayed on the sidelines for potential. So before you decided, you nudged the situation to see what John would say when he was faced with the possibility of losing you.
“I got a job offer!” You exclaimed to him at happy hour.
“Whoa! Of course you did! You’re so cool.” He puts his chin in his hand, giving you googly, heart eyes in admiration. He is joking, but it puts a silly smile on your face. He sits back up, taking a sip of his beer, waiting expectantly. “So tell me everything. Will you get an office? How close will you work to the arena? And can I come to have lunch with you every day because that is a requirement. We have spent too much time apart.” Your stomach drops out of your body. You look away, taking in a heavy breath.
“That is the one downside.” You bite your lip, then continue. “It’s not here.”
“Oh? Is it like out in the boonies or Philly?”
“No. Like Colorado.”
Surprise slaps across John’s face. Then he looks away, trying to gather himself quickly.
“But you just got here and maybe I shouldn’t go...” You trail off. You hold your breath, wanting John to say something. You know this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. But a yearning inside of you begs for John to tell you to stay with him in Pittsburgh.
“You should go. This is everything you’ve been wanting. You deserve this.” John’s words are everything he should say, but they fucking sting. Tears build in your eyes and you nod. “I’m proud of you.” John finishes with a dainty whisper. He licks his lips, looking away. “Look at us.” He tries for a laugh but it comes out like a cough. “Both of our dreams are coming true.”
You want to ask him why it feels like your chest is imploding?
But you don’t.
Instead, you hug your childhood best friend while telling yourself how selfish it would be to confess you’re in love with him before you go
- - -
Three years later, so much has changed since you hugged John on that bar stool. You have been promoted twice and received national recognition for your work in solar energy. John had rough seasons in Pittsburgh, but has found a new, comfortable place in New Jersey. Paul is with the L.A. Kings in California. You make it a point to meet up with John and Paul when John visits on his West Coast road trips. John and you connect when he is in Colorado. When you’re back home, you make the commute to Jersey and fly home out of Newark. Otherwise, you’re texting daily, sending GIFs and memes and tiktoks back and forth while keeping each other abreast of your busy life.
You’re closer than ever. More in love with him than ever too. But how would it ever work?
The repetitive thoughts consume you as you stir the queso you had been making for your taco night at your new home in Golden. It has been a long, competitive process to get this house, but you are so proud of it. A dream home to match the dream job that the dream boy will see tonight.
A knock sounds on the door. The dream boy waits for you on the other side of the wood.
“Hi!” You squeal when you see John. “Welcome to MY home!”
“Uh, Ma’am, where is the owner of this home? You’re too young and single? It couldn’t be you?” He jokes, then pulls you in for a tight hug. “Thought we could celebrate.” He tilts the bottle of wine at you. It is nothing fancy. In fact, it's Cook’s, the bottle you two had stolen from your parents’ bar to have after prom on the beach.
“Let’s get this expensive gal in a nice lil ice bath.”
“There is nothing nice about an ice bath. Or that wine.” He snorts, shrugging his coat off.
“You can put that in the closet right there.” You point to his right. He opens the door, settling his jacket between two of yours. A warmth spreads through your body at his clothes mingling together with yours, gathering each other's scents.
“Don’t dawdle in the doorway, Johnny. Come into my kitchen!” You’re giddy as John's sock covered feet slide across your wood floors to join you in the open, modern space.
“Gas range?” John oos and aws at all the fixtures you show him. He hypes and gasps at all the right moments. Your cheeks hurt from grinning as you become Vanna White against your refrigerator.
“Go best friend!” He cheers as you do a little spin and dance for him. You laugh at the end.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” You tell him honestly.
“Me too. Glad we got in early.” He opens his arms for you. The weight of you settles against his chest, creating a bonded connection. John squeezes tight, his chin on the top of your head. He works you both into a sway, enjoying the weight of each other’s arms. This version of John is your favorite. The one who blurs the lines between best friends and lovers. You breathe in the fresh scent of his cologne, then wait, making him be the one to break your embrace.
“So is there an upstairs?” He wonders.
“There is! They gave me two whole levels!”
“What! Scam. It’s all a scam.”
“Look at my wall of pictures.” You point out as you head up the stairs. There is a whole gallery wall of frames and people, many of which John is in. Paul too.
“I know these people!” He grins, looking at their decades of memories. “My favorite night.” He points to a picture. It’s the New Year's Eve you were pretty sure you almost kissed.
“Mmm, it’s up there for sure.” You agree, waiting for him. His eyes trace the memory like he wants to burn it into the membrane of his brain. Then he turns to you, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs, becoming the tour guide.
“So up here we have uh…” He looks around. “An office!”
“Oh! And a standing desk?! She works on her fitness.” You fill in.
“We have very different definitions of fitness.”
“I hope so, NHL player.”
“And over here,” He tugs you by your fingers. “We have a guest room. You would never have blue as your color. It is not boring enough. This can’t be your room.”
“Shut up! I love neutrals! They’re in!” You shove at him as he howls with laughter.
“Paul’s room for when he comes to visit. Your parents and sister too.” You can’t help but notice John doesn’t include himself in that.
“Oh here we go.” He gets to your room, pushing the cracked door open to expose your favorite space in the house. He pauses in the doorway, taking it in.
Two lamps on either side of the bed illuminate the room as the sun sets behind the mountains outside. Your white walls are warmed by their dim light. The bed is made with a plush, white comforter and a light tan blanket draped along the foot of the bed. The walls had been painted the faintest of olive green. Various shades of cream and tan pillows create the look of a bed you want to jump into to mess it all up. A black and white picture of waves sliding onto a Nantucket beach is above the headboard.
John has gone still and silent. You are nervous as he continues to look around the comfy oasis you have created as your escape from the world. You were meticulous in your quest for homey, comfort items that would dull the sometimes harsh world out there. Does he hate it?
“What do you think?” You finally ask.
“Honestly?” He murmurs.
“Yes!” You giggle, trying to cross the distance you feel separating you.
“I wish this was our house.”
You freeze. John keeps looking at the bed, eyes ravenous over the clean bedding like he is seeing something else.
“I wish this was our bed.” He sighs. “I wish I was the one who got to sleep here with you because this is so clearly your dream house and I wish I was your dream man.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, still not looking at you. This is when you realize he really doesn’t know. How does he not know?
“You are.” You whisper.
It’s John’s turn to be still and dumbfounded.
“You’re my dream man, Johnny.”
You bite your lip and John rushes towards you. His hands grip your face, tugging you into his lips. Your head falls back, delirious at his mouth finally being on yours. He holds your head up, working his lips to an angle so his tongue can devour your mouth. You never want to breathe again. His tongue and lips on yours are everything you’ve ever wanted. How will you stop?
Need takes over and you break apart begrudgingly. John rests his forehead on yours, thumbs delicately stroking your cheek bones.
“I’m in love with you, Johnny.”
“Good. Cause I am deliriously in love with you. And I’m sick of not telling you that every day.” You grin, inhaling heavily as tears fill your eyes.
“How are we going to do this?”
“I don’t know.” John sighs, gripping your face tighter in his fingers, like that will stop the rest of reality from intruding on your moment.
“I’m scared. We live so far apart. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
“We’ll have to be brave, sweetheart.”
Being brave is your second act.
The next 6 months you navigate the journey from friends to lovers while trying to mitigate the 1,700 miles that separate you. A 2 hour time zone difference weighs heavily on your relationship, along with two careers that threaten to ground you before your relationship even has a chance to take off. Then the off-season comes and John decides to train in Colorado with local NHL players at altitude, convinced it will give him that next step in his game.
The season begins again and your bed is as empty as it was before. You’re miserable. Lonelier than you’ve ever been and it spews mean thoughts in your brain at all hours of the night. John feels the same. You both discuss it openly, but neither of you have solutions for this next roadblock. Something will have to give, you both know it, but neither of you can speak it.
Right before Thanksgiving, your fist feels heavy against his Jersey City apartment door. He isn’t expecting you, but the relieved sigh when he has you in his arms tells you how welcome you are here. He ushers you in, pasting his lips against your skin as you try to set your bag down.
“What are you doing here?”
“Accepting my job offer.” John bolts up.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, babe. Don’t do this for me.”
“I’m not going to pretend it isn’t because of you. Of course it is. But this is a really good career move for me too. We can have it all.”
“Your house-”
“-will always just be my house. I’m ready to upgrade to our house.” You lock your hands around his neck, fingers guzzling up every bit of warmth from his skin. “I know what I want to do in my life and it’s to be where you are.” John groans then hugs you into his chest desperately.
In another month, you cut those 1700 miles down to 0. You and John move into your new place together. While you’re unpacking the neutral bedroom decor he makes fun of, John walks in then pops down to one knee.
“Can’t wait another minute.” He confesses. “I’ve been downstairs trying to talk myself out of doing it and why? For what? Because there isn’t an audience? There isn’t a photographer? Your nails aren’t done? That’s not us. This is us. So, marry me?” Your bottom lip quivers. A blink sends tear tracks down your face as you nod enthusiastically, telling the man, who is still your dream boy, “YES” you will marry him!
The wedding is a fast plan, you need to do it in the off-season and neither of you care for anything super fancy anyway. It’s a quaint ceremony on a similar Nantucket beach that hangs above your now shared bed. You and John stare in awe as you take turns reciting written vows that may as well be a decades long love letter to each other.
“Let’s keep betting on us, baby.” John finishes. You laugh, nodding vigorously.
When it’s time to seal the deal, John winds his hand around your waist, then tilts you down, kissing you so fully that you’re dazed when he brings you back up.
Like it has for thousands of years, a kiss between two lovers seals your fate.
It’s been decided.
A forever commitment.
One that binds you and John as partners, who keep bending the odds and winning anyway.
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Romance in The Hamptons - Alexis Lafrenière imagine
[gif credit goes to @alexislafreniere]
author's note: this is my submission for @wyattjohnston's summer 2k24 fic exchange, and i had the amazing pleasure of writing for @wildrangers! a quick shoutout to @2manytabsopen for helping me with Laf's characterization -- love you, bestie 🫶🏼. but yeah, i hope y'all enjoy the fic!
summary: summertime in The Hamptons leads to a budding romance...
wc: 3,028 words
"I still can't believe you managed to find us such a swanky rental," you giggled at your friend, Jamie, as you stepped into the luxury house that was nestled away in The Hamptons. The walls were painted in a cool, beachy white, and the smell of freshly cut grass and lemon cleaner filled the space. The floorboards groaned slightly underfoot, echoing the promise of lazy days and wild nights ahead.
Jamie shot you a knowing smile. "What can I say? Sometimes, being a travel agent has its perks." The house was indeed a steal for the season, boasting an expansive backyard that led directly to the beach, a hot tub that was already bubbling invitingly, and a fully stocked kitchen that made you want to throw a dinner party every night.
You set down your bags and took a moment to appreciate the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The sun was setting over the ocean, casting a warm, golden glow across the waves. The horizon looked like a canvas painted with a watercolor wash of pinks and oranges. You felt a gentle breeze waft in, carrying the salty scent of the sea. It was the perfect escape from the stifling city heat.
"Let's grab some drinks and hit the beach," Jamie suggested, tossing you a beach towel. You nodded eagerly, feeling the excitement of the vacation bubble up inside you. The two of you walked out the back door and down the short wooden staircase to the sand. The grains felt warm and soft underfoot as you laid your towel on the sand and pulled out a novel you'd been dying to read. The waves rolled in, a rhythmic soundtrack to the quiet evening that was quickly filling with the distant laughter of other vacationers.
As you settled in, you could hear the faint sounds of laughter and a beach ball bouncing in the distance. You glanced over to see a group of people playing beach volleyball, their shadows stretching long across the sand.
Shrugging your shoulders, you diverted your attention back to your novel, eager to dive into the story between the pages. Well, all was going well until you heard someone yell out, "Heads up!"
You looked up just in time to see a beach ball flying towards you. Instinctively, you reached out and caught it, feeling the rough texture and coolness against your palms.
You turned to see who had thrown it, and that's when you saw him: Alexis Lafreniere. He was jogging over, a sheepish grin on his face, with a group of friends in tow. "Sorry about that," he said, his French-Canadian accent making your heart skip a beat. "Are you okay?”
You felt your cheeks flush as you nodded, holding onto the beach ball. "Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound calmer than you felt.
Alexis looked relieved and chuckled. "Good catch," he said, closing the distance between you. His eyes were a warm brown, and his brown hair was a wild mess from the wind. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Alexis.”
You took his hand, feeling the firm grip and the warmth that radiated from his skin. "Nice to meet you," you said, your voice a tad shakier than you'd have liked. "I'm…" But before you could say your name, one of his friends called out, "Laf, come on! We need you back!”
With an apologetic look, Alexis took the beach ball from you. "I'd love to chat more, but we're in the middle of a game. Maybe I'll catch you around?" He didn't wait for your response before he turned and sprinted back to the volleyball match.
You watched him go, his athletic build moving with ease across the sand. As the game resumed, you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that he didn't ask for your name. You shrugged it off, telling yourself it was probably for the best.
The days in the Hamptons passed in a blur of sunscreen, salt water, and late-night bonfires. You and Jamie had made a pact to enjoy every moment, and you both stuck to it. The group playing beach volleyball every evening grew familiar, their laughter a comforting background to your own adventures. But Alexis remained elusive, always disappearing before you had the chance to approach him again.
\\\
One sun-kissed afternoon, you found yourself at the local ice cream shop, the bell jingling as you stepped inside. The walls were adorned with vintage posters of surfers and sailboats, and the smell of fresh waffle cones filled the air. You scanned the flavors, feeling the anticipation of choosing the perfect one to cool off with. That's when you heard it again - that accent. You turned around to see Alexis standing behind you, a sheepish look on his face as he realized you'd caught him.
"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It's you. From the beach. With the good catch." His smile was as warm as the day outside, and you felt your heart do a little flip. "I've been hoping to run into you again.”
You couldn't help but return the smile. "Well, you found me," you said, trying to play it cool. "What brings you here?”
Alexis shrugged. "Just needed a break from the heat. You know, the usual." His eyes searched yours, looking for something unspoken. "I've seen you around the beach, but I never got the chance to talk. I've been wanting to apologize for that. I'm usually not so… abrupt.”
You laughed it off, feeling a flutter in your chest. "It's fine. I've been pretty busy enjoying the sun and the waves." You paused, then took a risk. "So, are you staying in the area for long?"
Alexis nodded. "Yeah, l've got a place here for the summer. I try to get out of the city as much as I can." His eyes searched yours for a moment, and you felt a spark of curiosity. He was famous, but here, he was just a guy trying to escape the heat with an ice cream cone.
"What about you?" he asked, breaking the silence. "What brings you to the Hamptons?" You leaned against the counter, feeling the coolness of the marble seep through your shirt.
"Just a summer vacation with my bestie," you replied, gesturing towards Jamie, who was chatting with the cashier. "We wanted to get out of the city and enjoy some beach time.”
Alexis nodded, his gaze lingering on you before looking away. "It's a great place for that," he said, his eyes scanning the ice cream flavors. "So, what's your go-to?”
You pointed to the mint chocolate chip. "Can't go wrong with that," you said with a grin.
Alexis nodded thoughtfully. "Good choice. I'l have the same," he told the cashier, then turned back to you. "Would you like to sit outside?" He gestured to the small patio with a few tables scattered under an umbrella.
You felt a rush of excitement. "Sure," you said, trying to keep your cool. As you stepped outside, the warm sun kissed your skin, and you found yourself hoping it wasn't about to turn into a sweaty mess. Alexis pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down, watching as he did the same.
You both licked at your mint chocolate chip cones, the sweetness a stark contrast to the salty ocean air.
"So, are you guys here for the whole summer?" Alexis asked, breaking the ice between you.
You took a bite of your ice cream, the mint and chocolate a delightful blend on your tongue.
"We're here for a couple of weeks," you replied, hoping you didn't sound too eager. "It's our annual escape from reality.”
Alexis laughed, a deep, rich sound that made you want to lean closer. "I get that," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's nice to just… be, you know?”
You nodded, feeling the beginnings of a connection. "Yeah, I do," you said, your voice a little softer than you intended.
Alexis's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it was as if the rest of the world had disappeared. "You guys should come to our beach party tonight," he said, his voice low and inviting. "It's nothing crazy, just some friends and a bonfire.”
Your heart raced, and you felt a jolt of excitement. "That sounds amazing," you replied, trying to keep the eagerness from your voice. "What time?”
Alexis leaned back in his chair, his eyes still locked on yours. "It starts around eight. Just follow the sound of the music and the smell of the bonfire. It's not hard to miss." He took a bite of his ice cream, the chocolate chips glinting in the sun.
You couldn't believe your luck. "We'll definitely be there," you said, trying to keep the excitement from spilling over.
Alexis nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Great," he said. "I'l make sure to save you a spot by the fire.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of excitement and preparation. You and Jamie spent hours picking out the perfect outfits and getting ready for the night ahead. The anticipation was palpable, a mix of nerves and excitement that had you checking the time on your phone every few minutes.
\\\
Finally, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in a tapestry of oranges and purples. You and Jamie made your way down to the beach, the sound of the waves and distant laughter growing louder with each step. As you approached the bonfire, you could see the flickering flames and the silhouettes of people dancing around it. The smell of roasting marshmallows and woodsmoke filled the air, making your stomach rumble.
Alexis spotted you before you saw him, waving from the edge of the light. He was dressed casually in board shorts and a white t-shirt, his feet buried in the sand. You felt a flutter in your chest as he made his way over, his smile growing wider as he approached. "You came," he said, his eyes lighting up.
You nodded, feeling the heat from the bonfire warming your face. "We couldn't miss it," you replied, trying to sound casual.
Alexis took your hand, leading you through the crowd to a spot he'd reserved. "I'm so happy you're here," he said, his voice sincere. The warmth of his hand sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn't help but squeeze his fingers gently in return.
The party was in full swing, with music playing from a portable speaker and people of all ages mingling around the fire. You recognized some of the faces from the beach volleyball games, but there were plenty of new faces too. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly, the kind of gathering that made you feel like you'd been coming here for years.
Alexis introduced you to his friends, who were all welcoming and curious about the newcomer. You chatted and laughed, sharing stories of past summers and the thrill of escaping the city. The fire crackled and popped, casting a warm glow over everyone's faces. As the night grew darker, the stars began to appear, twinkling like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky.
You watched as Alexis interacted with his friends, his ease and charm evident in every gesture and word. When he turned to you, his eyes held a warmth that made you feel seen and appreciated. You found yourself sharing stories of your childhood and hopes for the future more than you usually would with a stranger. His questions were thoughtful, and his laugh was genuine.
The party began to wind down as the night grew later, and the group around the bonfire grew smaller. The stars grew brighter, and the crackling fire painted shadows on the sand. Alexis leaned closer, the heat from his body a comforting warmth against the cooling night air. "Would you like to take a walk?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.
You nodded, unable to hide the smile that had been playing on your lips all evening.
\\\
Hand in hand, you strolled along the beach, the waves whispering secrets as they kissed the shore. The moon was a silver crescent, casting a soft glow that danced on the water's surface. The sound of the party grew faint behind you, replaced by the rhythmic pulse of the ocean.
"This is incredible," you murmured, feeling the cool sand between your toes.
Alexis nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's one of my favorite things about being out here. The quiet moments when you can just listen to the ocean.”
You let the sound of the waves wash over you, the saltwater breeze playing with your hair. The stars above twinkled with a clarity that was impossible to find in the city, and the darkness of the night wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. The tension between you was palpable, a delicate dance of attraction that neither of you wanted to acknowledge outright.
As you strolled further down the beach, the moonlight reflected off the waves, creating a path of shimmering light that led you to a secluded cove. Alexis stopped, turning to face you, his hand still holding yours. "It's beautiful here," he said, his eyes searching yours.
You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. "It really is," you replied, your voice barely audible over the whispers of the tide.
Alexis took a step closer, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the scent of the bonfire lingered on his skin. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might lean in for a kiss. Instead, he tugged on your hand, leading you closer to the water's edge.
The waves lapped gently at your feet, the cool water a stark contrast to the warm sand. You watched as the moon's reflection danced in the ripples, creating a dazzling pattern that stretched out to the horizon. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the steady rhythm of the ocean and the occasional call of a night bird. You felt a sense of peace that was rare in the bustling city life you were used to.
Alexis released your hand and took a seat on a piece of driftwood, patting the spot next to him. You sat down, feeling the wood's smoothness against your legs, the salt and sea-worn edges digging in slightly. The warmth of his body was a comforting presence beside you, and you couldn't help but lean in slightly, feeling the electricity in the air.
For a moment, you both just sat there, watching the waves play in the moonlight. The silence stretched out, filled with the sound of the ocean's whispers and the distant laughter from the party. It was as if the universe had paused just for you two, the rest of the world fading away into the background.
Alexis turned to you, his eyes searching yours. "You know," he began, his voice low and earnest, "I've been thinking about you a lot since that first day on the beach.”
You felt your heart skip a beat, unsure of how to respond. "I've… I've thought about you too," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
Alexis's smile grew, reaching his eyes. "I'm really glad to hear that," he said, his voice warm and sincere. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your neck. "You know, I don't usually do this sort of thing," he began, his gaze dropping to your lips.
You felt your breath hitch, the anticipation building in your chest. "What sort of thing?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
Alexis leaned in, his gaze never leaving yours. "This," he murmured, before his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on his mouth, mingling with the salty tang of the sea air. Your heart raced as you melted into the moment, the feel of his hands on your arms anchoring you to the present. It was a kiss filled with promise and hope, a whisper of what could be.
When you pulled back, the world felt different somehow. The stars seemed closer, the ocean's whispers more intimate. You searched his eyes for reassurance and a sign that this was real. Alexis's gaze was steady, his smile warm and inviting. "I've wanted to do that since the first time I saw you," he admitted, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
You felt a blush creep up your neck, your heart racing in your chest. "I've wanted it too," you murmured, your voice barely above the sound of the waves. The air was charged with a tension that was both thrilling and terrifying. You didn't know where this was going but didn't want it to end.
Alexis leaned in again, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss that made your toes curl. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the heat of his body against yours. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring you to this moment, under the stars with the sound of the ocean as your soundtrack.
When the kiss ended, you both sat there for a moment, the only sound the gentle whoosh of the waves. Alexis's hand remained on the small of your back, his thumb tracing small circles that sent delightful shivers down your spine. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of the sea and the faint hint of his cologne.
"Thank you for walking with me," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours.
You nodded, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You felt a strange mix of excitement and fear, knowing that this could be the start of something beautiful or just a fleeting summer fling.
#alexis lafrenière#alexis lafrenière imagine#alexis lafrenière imagines#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl fic#nhl fics#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#hockey fic#hockey fics#new york rangers#the summer fic exchange 2k24
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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays 🎁
here is a list of the Christmas fics we’ve collected. Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday!
A Christmas Carol by diaz_evan
On Christmas Eve night, Tony is lost in his own head, still struggling to deal with Peter’s death. A message is sent to him through his father, Howard Stark, and their ex-business partner, Obadiah Stane - they warn him that three spirits will visit him before sunrise. The ghosts take Tony on a journey through the past, present, and future.
A Spider-Man Christmas by thwip_thwip10
It's finally December! Which means Peter's ecstatic to get his holiday spirit on! However sometimes, he can act before he thinks.
A Spider Isn't Just for Christmas by forensicleaf
The prickling across the back of his neck ups its intensity, and panic bursts like lightning through Peter’s veins. This isn’t just general unease now; it’s a warning. He spins on his heel, mouth forming an M, ready to shout for Morgan to stay where she is, for her to stay hidden. And his voice locks up in his throat. They are no longer alone in the clearing. More specifically, Morgan is no longer alone. She is pulled tight against a pair of combat-clad legs. A thick forearm holds her firmly across the shoulders and— There’s a gun pressed to the side of her head. ~~ In which a trip to pick out a Christmas tree leads to a very bad not good couple of days for Peter.
Air I Breathe by heartofcathedrals
Peter licks his dry lips and tries to get his eyes to adjust to the brightness, his chest muscles pulling as he struggles to breathe against gravity. “Tony?” His voice is weak, full of fear and confusion and Jesus, he feels like his body is on fire. Why is everything on fire? “Right here, bud.” “Wha’s goin’ on? Where’s May?” “Still on her business trip. You’ve got a pretty high fever and your heart rate is through the roof. Gonna get you home and get both of them down, okay?” “Did I pass out?” He closes his eyes in embarrassment because he knows he did, knows that he’s scared the shit out of Ned and Mrs. Benninger and MJ. MJ. Ugh. --------------------- Peter gets sick with pneumonia right before Christmas and May’s on a business trip, which leaves Tony in Dad Mode.
Christmas Grievings by Velnetta
Tony would like to think he wasn't the jealous type- in fact, he prided himself on being rather unaffected by other people's opinion. When tragedy strikes Peter Parker for the third time in his short life, Tony is thrusted into fatherhood, with all the ups and downs of taking care of a grieving super kid. If only he can get the kid to call him by his first name. My submission for The Friendly Neighbourhood Exchange!
Cursed Christmas by sahiya
A series of unfortunate events befalls Tony, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan (and Happy and May) in the week leading up to Christmas. It'd be kind of funny if it didn't totally suck. Fortunately, they've got good back-up.
Baby's First Christmas by mainstreamelectricalparade
In the years between his first year of college and now, if Tony wasn't forcibly dragged to Pennsylvania (and, more specifically, the Rhodes family home) by Rhodey, he spent the holidays in his workshop, tinkering and bickering with JARVIS and his bots. It wasn't a bad way to spend the holidays – he liked JARVIS and his bots – but it was how he spent almost every other day of the year. This year was drastically different. Christmas cheer had infiltrated Tony's home, inside and out. (Set in December, 2001 - Peter is four months old!)
I’ll be Sick for Christmas by ObsessionOfTheDay
“I don’t care what sort of text he may have sent you, he is in no shape to be going out into the cold tonight!” “Jeez, May, we’ve been co-parenting for months now, do you really think I would go against you on this?” “No, and by your choice of outfit it doesn’t look like you’re ready for a fancy Christmas Eve dinner either.” “Didn’t you hear? Christmas Eve got changed to a pajama party!”
Marvel-lous Christmas (series) by floating_roomba
Please let this be a normal Christmas time With the Avengers? No way! Or: Fluffy Christmastime
May Your Days be Merry and Bright by happyaspie
A collection of winter/holiday themed Irondad fics.
Peter Parker and Peppermint Don't Mix by spidermanstan
“The reaction seems to be in response to peppermint, boss.” Friday supplied. “Peppermint is known to repel spiders, and can be lethal in large quantities.” Or In which Peter gives Tony and the gang a rather festive health scare on Christmas Eve
Santa drives a blue-green Beetle by Bergen
“Hey, kid. Not answering your phone anymore? That’s an outrage. Only Pepper is allowed to ghost me. Call me back.”
simply having a wonderful christmas time (series) by frostysunflowers & Hailfire_73
happy holidays!!! welcome to the the lovely Christmas series I'm writing with @frostysunflowers we have 12 planned and it's going to be an amazing time, so please enjoy !! <3
There is No Where Else You Should Be This Christmas by HappyJuicyfruit
After May unexpectedly passes away, Tony thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of looking after Peter. That is, until he forgets to include Peter in on holiday plans.
There’s No Place Like Home (For The Holidays) by seekrest
Peter was halfway through his senior year at MIT, had a serious girlfriend that Tony already knew would become his wife someday, and an aunt and grumpy step-uncle that missed him just as much - if not more - than Tony did. Tony hadn’t ever been used to sharing in his life, much less having to wait around for the attention of anyone. But there had been a time when Tony had believed he’d never see Peter again, another moment when he’d been willing to risk it all with a snap of his fingers. Tony had waited five years for Peter. He could wait a few more days.
tree lights and bright by iron_spider
This is part 17 of the “I love you more than anything (bio dad au)” series
Peter is holding the last truck May got him and he keeps hitting the front so it beeps, and he imitates the noise. “Beep beep,” he says, patting Tony’s knee. “That’s right, wake him up, Pete,” Ben calls. “How are you gonna get through Christmas on Wednesday with everything you got planned?” “He’s a planner,” Pepper says, gently. “He plans things and then he never gets around to them. He has good intentions.” “Stop lying about me right in front of me,” Tony says. “I always do everything I want to do, every time, exactly when I want to.” They all laugh, and he narrows his eyes. Peter crawls around. “Beep beep.”
Tumblr Posts by Jen27ny
Chapter 19: Christmas shopping
Prompt: #4 “You’re impossible to shop for!” #55 “Why can’t our house look like that?” “Are you kidding? Do you know what our electrical bill would look like if we put all those lights up on the house?”
Twelve Days Of Peter Parker by grilledcheesing
In each of the twelve days leading up to Christmas, Tony runs into one Peter Parker — for better or for worse. In other words, an excuse for this author to write gratuitous Peter fluff/angst/nonsense with a Christmas theme, because 'tis the season.
Who Spiked the Eggnog? by Emily_F6
The Stark Tower Extravaganza is the biggest event of the year, and this year, Spider-Man is helping out.
12 Days of Irondad & Spideyson Christmas (series) by ciaconnaa
12 individual Christmas-themed stories! Pick and choose whichever ones you want and enjoy them in any order!
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Stand Still
Fic Title: Stand Still
Author Name: flaming-brown-witch
Selected Trope: Cockblocker Harry
Brief Summary: Harry blocks cock not once, but twice when Hermione asks Ron to Slughorn’s party that day in Herbology.
Word Count: 2423
Rating: T
Any Trigger Warnings: None
Note: Excerpts from Half-Blood Prince are bolded.
***
“Time stands still
While we stand here
Don’t wanna fight you
I need the same as you”
- “Stand Still,” Sabrina Claudio
If Hermione Granger had any doubt that she was in love with her insufferable best friend, those doubts were completely dashed when the citrusy aroma of Ron’s shampoo greeted her full in the face as she entered her first N.E.W.T. potions class.
And judging by the perplexed sniff Ron gave in the direction of her own locks as he entered the classroom with her, Hermione had it on good authority to believe that Ron Weasley loved her back.
Now, for any normal young woman, the confirmation of requited love is the cause of elation. But Hermione Granger was not a normal young woman. So for her, knowing that her love was requited was the cause of anguish.
Hermione and Ron had grown accustomed to this limbo they had found themselves in, somewhere between friends and something more. Although they had both made several attempts to move onto something more in the past year, such attempts were always half-hearted, shrouded in debilitating distress and confusion. They also never seemed to be on the same page about what they wanted. When Hermione hinted at wanting to deepen their connection, Ron retreated, and vice versa. Their relationship had been volatile from day one, so levelling up seemed akin to poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.
And yet…Hermione yearned to, well, poke the sleeping dragon. It was a classic battle between the head and the heart, and Hermione—ever the stalwart defender of logic—cursed her heart for winning. As much as she tried to distract herself with her studies and extracurricular activities, her desire for Ron was ever present, a dull, growing ache that finally reached a crescendo during a lesson on Snargaluffs.
The Snargaluff was by far the most dangerous plant the trio had studied in Herbology. Extracting pods from its stump was a job recommended for no less than three people. Even a second of inattention marked the difference between life and death.
After exchanging looks of apprehension, Harry, Ron, and Hermione regarded the innocent-looking lump of wood in front of them, took deep breaths, and dived. The stump sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramblelike vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One shot straight towards Hermione, weaving in easily through the space within her curls.
Before Hermione could move a muscle, even to scream, there was Ron with a pair of secateurs, beating the deadly plant into submission. The vines retreated. Hermione vaguely registered Harry moving forward to grab at them, her attention fixated instead on how closely Ron was standing. The scent of his freshly-laundered robes dampened by his sweat was overwhelming in her adrenaline-fueled state.
“Are you all right?” Ron asked, face flushed from exertion and panting slightly. Completely unprompted, he grabbed her head and began examining it for damage. The calloused thumb resting on the left side of her jaw and the fingers splayed across the right side of her neck made Hermione’s heart thump more wildly still.
“Yeah,” Hermione responded, voice breathy. She locked eyes with Ron’s concerned ones. Ron let go quickly, his face turning more red. It was his turn to realise how close they were.
“Thanks,” she murmured, still gazing up at him.
“Anytime,” he shrugged, two-parts sheepish and one-part cocky. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, and he grinned down at her as the sheepishness began to disappear…
“Now that we know Hermione is okay…!” yelled Harry. The pair jumped, flustered. Harry frantically shook the vines he had captured between his hands. “Can we please get back to this monstrosity?”
Resolutely avoiding eye contact, Ron and Hermione came to Harry’s aid. The three stared at the hole in the stump with mirrored expressions of dread.
“I’ll do it,” said Hermione briskly before trapping her arm in the hole, eager for a distraction from Ron. But her wish for a reprieve was short-lived. With Ron grunting and heaving and knocking into her back as he and Harry pulled at the vines with all their might, it was a miracle that she was able to tell up from down, let alone concentrate on the task at hand. Just as her hand closed around a squishy pod, Ron and Harry managed to reopen the hole.
“You know, I don’t think I’ll be having any of these in my garden when I’ve got my own place,” said Ron, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead and wiping sweat from his face.
Even Hermione’s repulsion for the pod she was holding at arm’s length was not enough to keep her from briefly imagining what it would be like to create a home with Ron. She gave a firm, small shake of her head and requested a bowl. Harry handed one over and she dropped the pod into it.
Ron reached for the bowl. “Let me at it,” he muttered in her ear. “You’ve been through enough.”
Hermione, barely registering Professor Sprout shouting something about squeezing the pod while it’s fresh, watched as Ron began to knead the pod with his fist. This act of care was Hermione’s final straw, and she found herself wanting Ron as she had never wanted him before. Luckily for her, the conversation they had been having right before attacking the Snargaluff provided the perfect cover for her to seal the deal. It was a risky move, due to Ron’s ire regarding all things Slughorn, but if she played her cards right…
“Anyway,” said Hermione, turning to Harry before her nerves would fail her, “Slughorn’s going to have a Christmas party, Harry.“
Hermione braced herself for Ron’s reaction. Sure enough, she sensed him shift behind her. She continued.
“And there’s no way you’ll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come.”
Harry groaned. A few seconds of heavy breathing filled the air as Ron continued to squeeze the pod. Finally, he managed to growl through his strain, ”And this is another party just for Slughorn’s favourites, is it?”
Hermione paused, weighing the best way to proceed. “Just for the Slug Club, yes,” she began delicately. “But—”
At that very moment, the pod slipped from Ron’s grasp, ricocheted off the glass wall of the greenhouse, and knocked Professor Sprout’s hat off.
“Sorry professor!” yelled Ron while she glared reproachfully over at them. Harry went to retrieve the pod, and Hermione took her opportunity during his absence, hoping to avoid another awkward moment.
“Look, as I was saying,” she said quickly, putting a hand on Ron’s arm, “while the party is only for members of the Slug Club, we can bring—”
Ron looked down at Hermione with disdain. “No offence, Hermione, but I couldn’t care less about your stupid club. Anyway, can you make yourself useful and look up the best way to juice this abomination of nature? There’s no point in trying to plaster it.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not doing anything useful, either,” she snapped. “Why don’t you look it up?”
“Because it’ll take me ages whereas it’ll take you two seconds. Or would you rather continue harping on about how superior you are to me?”
Hermione huffed, bent down to lift her bag, and slammed it on the table, all the while glaring at Ron. Then she swiftly turned to her bag and began furiously messing with the straps. Clearly, she would have to find another date for Slughorn’s party. She was done with Ron. She was done with whatever this was.
After a moment, Ron scoffed. “Bet that looks great on your CV, that does,“ he muttered. "Hermione Granger, esteemed member of the fucking Slug Club.”
“It does actually,” said Hermione, whipping to face him, unable to resist the bait. “In the past, the most valuable asset a Hogwarts student could have entering any workforce in the magical world, not just in Britain, was—”
“Let me guess. A recommendation letter sealed with a trail of slime?”
“Look,” Hermione said, temper rising, “I didn’t make up the name ‘Slug Club’ —”
“‘Slug Club,’” Ron repeated with a sneer worthy of Malfoy. “It’s pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don’t you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug —”
“We’re allowed to bring guests,” Hermione all but shrieked into Ron’s face, completely at her limit. Somewhere in her brain had registered that Harry had returned, but she was already a runaway train. There was no stopping the next words from spilling from her mouth. “And I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it’s that stupid then I won’t bother!”
Ron froze. Then, as the fight began to leave his body, time started to stand still.
It no longer mattered that Harry was standing there with them because as far as Hermione was concerned, Harry ceased to exist. The greenhouse and all its mayhem—the shouting N.E.W.T. students, the wooshing of Snargaluff vines, Professor Sprout’s booming voice giving instructions—simply melted away. All that was left was just her and Ron and his heart-stopping eyes that shifted from coldness to warmth in a matter of seconds. It was quite curious, actually, how much warmth could be contained in the coldest colour on the spectrum. Maybe, she wondered vaguely, that’s why the hottest part of a flame was the shade that it was…
Ron took a step closer.
“You were going to ask me?” he asked softly, hopefully. Tender, really, was the best way to describe the tone. She had never heard that tone before in her life, not by Ron, not by anyone.
“Yes,” hissed Hermione, looking away. She refused to let him get away with being a colossal prat just moments ago simply because his voice suddenly took on the quality of velvet. Or that his eyes were too blue to be real.
Rifling through her bag for Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, Hermione added with a heavy measure of snark, "But obviously if you’d rather I hooked up with McLaggen…”
There was a pause that felt like infinity. Hermione dimly registered Harry pounding away frantically at the pod, a mirror of her heartbeat. She should probably tell him his efforts are futile, but she was grappling with her own futile attempts to regain composure as she rummaged aimlessly in her bag. Hermione felt tears prick her eyes as the silence stretched. This was the stupidest decision I’ve ever made, she thought furiously. I just have to accept that Ron and I will never work out. We’ll never be on the same page.
Suddenly her breath hitched. Ron’s rough fingers slowly encircled her right forearm, stopping her movements. Almost despite herself, she turned and locked eyes with him again as time stood still once more.
“No, I wouldn’t,” Ron whispered, hand hot on Hermione’s skin.
CRASH.
The rest of the world zoomed back in an instant. Hermione wrenched her arm from Ron’s grasp and desperately hoped her face wasn’t as red as she felt it was.
“Reparo,” said Harry hastily at the bowl he broke with his trowel. He glanced up and happened to make eye contact with Hermione. He looked equal parts uncomfortable and apologetic.
Hermione immediately dropped her attention back to her bag. “Where is that damn book?” she muttered feverishly. “I could have sworn that I packed it today…Ah, it was on the top of the pile after all…”
Hermione yanked the book out of the bag and made quick work of flipping to the chapter on Snargaluffs. She ignored Ron’s eyes on her, finally coming to her senses. Under no circumstance was she to fail a lesson because she was too distracted by a boy.
“Hand that over, Harry,” said Hermione hurriedly, indicating at the bowl. “It says we’re supposed to puncture them with something sharp… .”
As Hermione scoured the table for a sharp object, she felt Ron shift positions to have better access to the stump, working with Harry for the second retrieval. Hermione found a metal skewer, grabbed it, and paused, the mundanity of her task allowing her to fully process what had just happened.
She had basically asked Ron to be her date at Slughorn’s party, and Ron had basically agreed to it. There was no misinterpreting what had transpired, was there? After years of misunderstandings and crossed signals, they were finally on the same page, weren’t they? Finally wanting and needing and ready for the next step at the same time…
“Open…you…psychotic…stump!” gasped Harry somewhere in the background. Hermione gave another shake of her head and poised the skewer over the pod.
“Gotcha!” yelled Ron, pulling a second pod from the stump just as Hermione managed to burst the first one open.
At Ron’s victory yell, Hermione’s head lifted to find him regarding her bowl of wriggling green tubers. He looked up, and his face broke into a jubilant grin. He raised his pod triumphantly over his head with both hands and cheered. Harry laughed. Hermione looked heavenward and tried to suppress a smile.
Without warning, Ron tossed the pod to Harry, aiming at his face. Harry caught it effortlessly and made an angry, forceful motion as if to return the favour, causing Ron to flinch and chuckle. Harry dropped the pod into a new bowl, and Hermione handed him the skewer, her laughter finally giving away.
“Ace teamwork, eh?” Ron said to Hermione as Harry worked on puncturing the second pod. He drew closer to her under the guise of examining the contents of her bowl, yet again compromising her ability to breathe.
“We’re not so bad, I suppose,” said Hermione, attempting to keep her voice even as she flipped to the section on harvesting Snargaluff tubers.
Ron snatched the book in his direction, forcing her to meet his gaze again. There was no lingering resentment or frustration. There was no doubt or uncertainty. There was only excitement and awe and…dare she say…love. It was a look that made Hermione dismantle any defences she may have still had up and reflect back everything he was showing her.
Ron grinned and turned pink, biting his lip bashfully. It was all Hermione could do to keep from launching herself at him and claiming that bottom lip for her own. They had already put Harry through enough, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning.
Still grinning, still pink, Ron dropped his gaze to the book and said, “Not bad at all, I reckon."
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I HAVE A NEW FIC! Special request for @dependentreadingtime, but I went sligghhttllyyy off topic (denied puppy brain makes extra special fics)
Master's Pack: Part One
Rating: Grapefruit
Pairing: Dom/Male x Puppygirl!Sub x Puppygirl!Sub
Themes: BDSM, D/s dynamics, breeding kink, puppy play, jealousy, punishment, humiliation, praise/degradation, submission, and power exchange
Content Warnings: Non-consensual undertones (within consensual kink) humiliation, use of a zapper, jealousy and competition between submissives, forced submission, dominance, restraint, mild humiliation, sexual punishment, and voyeurism
ENJOY MY FELLOW PUPPIES AND HANDLERS ♡♡♡
Also dying to know which puppy role you'd pick
I curled up tighter in my dog bed, my tail tucked against my thigh, trying to block out the sight of Lila wagging hers so boldly. She was at it again, kneeling between Master's legs with her ears perked high, her nose nuzzling his thigh like she could catch the scent of his approval. Master hardly reacted, one hand lazily resting on the back of her head while he sipped his tea and read. But I caught the way his fingers occasionally flexed against her hair, a silent indulgence that made Lila's soft whines of pleasure even harder to ignore. I buried my face in my arms, my canines pressing into my lower lip as I fought back the growl rising in my throat. Lila always got to be so free-so shameless. And Master let her.
My ears twitched as Master turned a page in his book, the soft rustle cutting through the room’s quiet tension. The stupid mutt, of course, took it as encouragement, her tail wagging harder as she pressed her cheek against his lap, rubbing against him like she was marking him as hers and only hers. She let out a playful little yip and tilted her head up to look at him. “Master,” she purred, her voice dripping with that sweet, teasing tone she used so well. My tail gave an involuntary flick against the cushion, but I forced it still, curling up tighter and pressing myself harder into the fluffy bed. I wasn’t going to let her antics pull me in. Not tonight. I didn’t want to see her get what I couldn’t have.
Master finally lowered his book, his piercing gaze settling on Lila. Her ears twitched in delight as she nuzzled closer, practically glowing under the weight of his attention. I felt my chest tighten, the familiar pang of longing creeping in. His voice was calm, steady, yet commanding. “Lila, you’re distracting me.” She let out a soft, high-pitched whine but didn’t move away, her tail still wagging like an excited pup begging for playtime. Was she taking his annoyance as praise? Proud of pulling our Master's attention from his task? His free hand cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. “Are you behaving, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement. I bristled, my ears flattening against my head as I tried to block out their conversation and the growing jealousy.
I could hear Lila's grin in her voice as she leaned into his touch, absolutely reveling in it. "Of course, Master," she said, her voice light and syrupy, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "I'm always your good girl." My claws instinctively flexed against the soft fabric of the bed, and this time I failed to swallow my growl. The sound of her tail thumping against the floor drove me crazy. Master hummed softly, his thumb brushing over her lips. "Is that so? And what about your denmate?" he asked, his gaze shifting to me. My breath hitched, and I froze, feeling his attention like a leash tightening around my neck.
I swallowed hard, trying not to sound pathetic even as my ears flattened against my head. "I've been good, Master," I said quietly, my voice steady but tinged with the effort it took to stay composed. My tail gave a hesitant flick behind me, betraying the way his attention made my heart pound. Master just looked at me- studying me- in that calm, unreadable way that always made me feel as though he could see right through me. "Good," he repeated, his tone soft but loaded with expectation. "And yet, you're growling at Lila." My stomach twisted. I couldn't tell if his words were scolding or teasing, and that uncertainty sent heat rushing through me.
Quickly, I positioned myself, settling on my knees with my hands resting on the ground between my thighs. "I'm sorry, Master," I murmured, lowering my gaze to the floor. My tail twitched again, betraying my frustration with myself more than anything else. Lila let out a soft, triumphant hum from her place at his feet, her tail still wagging as she pressed her face into Master's crotch, smug and shameless. I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to snap at her, knowing it would only make things worse. Master didn't speak right away, letting the silence stretch long enough that my ears began to droop further under the weight of his unspoken judgment. When he finally broke the quiet, his voice was low and measured, sending a shiver down my spine. "A good pup doesn't let jealousy get the better of her," he said, each word sinking in deep. "Isn't that right, Nina?"
"Yes, Master," I whispered, the words barely audible as I lowered myself further, pressing my forehead to the ground in submission. My tail tucked between my thighs, curling around me as though I could physically hide my shame. I could feel his gaze still heavy on me, measuring, assessing. The sound of Lila's tail rapidly brushing against the floor only serving to deepen the sting of my embarrassment. Master shifted in his seat, setting his cup down on the table beside him. "Come here, Nina," he said, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. My heart leapt to my throat as I moved to obey, crawling quickly forward on all fours until I reached him, my breath catching as I waited for his next command.
I kept my head low as I knelt before him, even as Master's hand reached down, his fingers brushing over my head, sliding slowly into my curls and resting between my ears. The touch was gentle, deliberate, yet it carried the weight of control that made my heart race and my pussy wet- I quickly squeezed my thighs shut to hide it. I felt some shame at being constantly naked around him- granted it was his rule but the inability to hide my reactions embarraased me in a way that Lila didn't seem to relate to.
"Good girl," he murmured, the words wrapping around me like a leash, pulling me closer to him both physically and mentally. I pressed into his hand, savouring the warmth and approval, but before I could fully melt into the moment, Lila's wet tongue dragged heavily across my cheek. My head jerked slightly in surprise, and she giggled as she tried to push herself under Master's free hand. He chuckled, a deep, rich sound, and obliged her, resting his other hand on her head. "Impatient as always," he said with a smirk, scratching behind her ears. I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to stay still even as her little victory gnawed at me.
Lila pressed her body closer still, whining as she ground herself against his shoe. She leaned towards me and her tongue flicked out again, catching the edge of my jaw this time, as if to remind me of my place. Irritation washed over me, but I stayed perfectly still, not daring to react while Master's hand was still stroking between my ears. "Such needy pups," he said, his voice full of quiet amusement. His fingers shifted, trailing down to grasp my chin and gently tilt my head up to meet his gaze. My breath hitched, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. "Tell me, Nina," he said, his tone dropping lower, softer, in that way that made my whole body tighten in anticipation. "What should we do with little Lila?"
Lila let out a delighted little moan at the sound of her name, shamelessly increasing her speed even as she stained Master's shoe with her slick. My lips parted, but no words came out, my body frozen under the weight of his question. His thumb brushed along the curve of my jaw, coaxing a response, but my mind was a swirl of jealousy, longing, and the desperate need to say the right thing. Lila's brain seemed dead to the world- so used to getting whatever she wanted I doubt she knew how to beg, even if Master demanded it.
"Well?" Master prompted, his gaze sharp but patient, like he was testing me. "Should your packmate get what she wants, Nina?"
I swallowed hard, my throat tight as his question hung in the air. My gaze flickered to Lila, still lost in her own pleasure, her moans soft and breathy as she shamelessly smeared herself against his shoe. She didn't deserve it-not this time. She wasn't earning anything, just taking without restraint, without thought. But could I say that? My lips trembled as I forced myself to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. "Master... I-" My words faltered, and I dropped my gaze again, the weight of his attention too much. His thumb tilted my chin back up, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. "Speak, pup," he said firmly, and my heart clenched at the authority in his voice.
The words slipped out before I could stop them, a mixture of desperation and jealousy spilling over. "Master," I said, my voice trembling but louder now. "I deserve it more. I deserve to cum-to be fucked." The moment the words left my mouth, I froze, my ears pinned flat as his gaze darkened. My tail tucked between my legs instinctively, but it was too late to take it back.
Master's thumb pressed harder against my jaw, keeping my face tilted up toward him even as I tried to pull back. Hs lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk. "Since when do you make such decisions, puppy? And the filth that just came out of your mouth? I thought you were trained much better than that" Master said, his tone low, edged with a cold sharpness that sent a shiver down my spine. My mouth opened, but no sound came out-no explanation, no excuse, nothing. "You know the rules," he continued, his voice calm, measured, and far more terrifying than if he had yelled. "You only get an orgasm-only get to feel me-when it's time for you to be bred. And it's not that time of the month yet"
Shame burned through me, and my tail pressed tighter against my body. I wanted to curl into myself, to disappear under the weight of his disappointment. But he wasn't finished.
His fingers hooked firmly under my collar and he shot to his feet. I scrambled to keep up but he didn't care, he dragged me along the floor. Lila hopped up and trotted along obediently behind us.
"You want something so badly, Nina?" Master asked, dropping me on the carpeted floor of the bedroom. My breath came fast and shallow. He pressed the toe of his stained shoe firmly against my clit, the pressure startling a gasp from my lips. "Then you'll work for it. Start by preparing Lila for me. Let's see if you can be a useful pup if you're incapable of being good"
"Yes, Master," I murmured, my voice small, barely audible. He gestured toward Lila with a slight tilt of his head. I glanced up to see her standing on both feet in front of the bed, her face alight with eagerness.
"Then get to work."- Master's tone was sharp and final.
I crawled slowly toward Lila, her tail wagging so furiously I could feel the breeze it created. I knelt in front of her as Master pushed her to lie on the bed with her ass hanging just over the edge. My stomach twisted with resentment as I placed my hands on her thighs, gently spreading them, my irritation only heightening at the sight of the shiny mess she had made almost down to her knees.
She let out a delighted little giggle, already flushed with excitement, her ears twitching as she looked down at me with a smug grin. "Don't take too long," she teased, her sing-song voice dripping with satisfaction.
My lips pressed into a thin line as I leaned forward, doing as Master had commanded. I couldn't ignore the bitter taste of jealousy as my hands and mouth worked over her, soft gasps and whines spilling from her lips as her body responded eagerly. I tried to focus only on the humiliation of the act, treat every little sound she made as a reminder of what I couldn't have. My movements were mechanical at first, more dutiful than eager, but then something shifted. I couldn't ignore her taste on my tongue, the way she clenched around my fingers or pushed her pussy against my face. She didn't touch me, didn't grab my hair- she wouldn't dare and Master quickly gathered her wrists in his hand to prevent her.
One tug and I would've bitten her.
Lila's soft moans grew louder, her hands jerking in Master's grasp as her body arched toward me. "Nina," she gasped, her voice breathless and high-pitched. I froze for a moment, and she squealed, the lack of stimulation pushing her orgasm just out of reach. My ears perked up as her tone broke through the last traces of resentment clouding my thoughts. Slowly, I looked up, and what I saw made my heart race.
She had exposed her neck to me-her head tilted back in full submission, her tail wagging but low, deferential.
A thrill ran through me, unexpected and intoxicating. Something shifted between us. For the first time, I wasn't thinking about what I lacked or what she had. Instead, I was thinking about how easily she had given herself over to me. My hands tightened on her thighs, claws digging in and marking her as much as I could in Master's presence. My lips curled into a smirk as I leaned back in, this time with more confidence, more purpose.
Her whines grew sharper, her body trembling as I pressed harder, rougher, wanting to hear her cry my name again.
"Nina," she gasped once more, her voice cracking, and the sound sent a rush of pride through me. I pressed my palm to her clit as I tried to press my fingers deeper still, forgetting myself in the moment, in the way she submitted so easily to me.
My teeth sunk into her thigh.
And my dominance was short-lived.
A sharp, electric jolt shot through my body, and I yelped, jerking away from her as the zapper pressed firmly between my shoulderblades. "Enough," Master's voice cut through the haze, cold and commanding. My body froze as his hand fisted in the back of my collar, yanking me off my knees and forcing me on my back. My breath came in short, shallow gasps as I struggled to regain my composure, but the disappointment in his tone kept me silent.
"You've forgotten your place, little pup," Master said, leaning down and wrapping his hand firmly around my throat, cutting off my air. "Did you think you were the one in control here?"
My cheeks burned, and shame washed over me in waves. Master didn't give me time to dwell on it, though. He dragged me to the side, positioning me near the edge of the bed where I could see everything. "Since you can't seem to remember who's in charge," he said, "you'll watch. And if you look away"-he crouched, his fingers pulling my hair as he forced me to meet his eyes -"you'll earn five spanks for every time you disobey." I swallowed hard. "Yes, Master," I whispered, my voice trembling, my eyes prickling with tears.
Satisfied, he released me and turned his attention back to Lila, who was practically writhing on the bed, her tail wagging lazily as she awaited him. I clenched my fists against the carpet, forcing myself to keep my eyes locked on them as Master climbed onto the bed, his hands finding Lila's hips. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of shame, frustration, and something else entirely as I watched him take her, her gasps and cries filling the room. Every time I felt the urge to look away, I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, reminding myself of the punishment waiting if I failed.
Part Two
#puppygirl#puppyposting#dog blog#dog girl#puppy sub#dumb puppy#puppyplay#bd/sm puppy#puppybrain#puppy hybrid#bd/sm master#alpha master#smut#bdsmkink#oc fic#woof#puppy barks#bark bark bark#puppy brain#pup4pup#0rgasm denial#edging and denial#wet and needy#master's pack#poly smut#3somme#throuple#hornyposting#original character#Master×Lila×Nina
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Lobo
reupload; originally posted on 14 february, 2023
read part two here
pairing: werewolf!Arthur Morgan x reader
word count: 5.2k
summary: You're on the run, hiding from the law. One night, your dog runs into the woods and comes upon a poor creature stuck in a bear trap. This isn't just some normal wolf... His eyes are the color of the ocean and he seems to understand you. The wolf continues to visit you, shifting back and forward between man and beast. He offers you his name, and eventually his heart.
a/n: this was originally a submission for the rdr events valentines exchange! This was my first ever werewolf fic and I was hella intimidated by it, but it was SO fun. I'm definitely down to do a part two if that's something people want. Let me know! Important things to know about this fic because everyone writes werewolves differently: - A werewolf's eyes glow red when they have found their mate, and after they've found their mate, their eyes glow red during very emotional/vulnerable moments. - A mating bite is just a way for the bond to seal between the two. It can be given by one or both parties -Arthur is a fully normal human being, aside from the fact that he can shift to a wolf. -Werewolves can shift between human and wolf at any time in this fic, not just on a full moon - The full moon makes a werewolf more primal. i.e. wanting to run, wanting to stay shifted as a wolf. It also makes the wolves more drawn to their mates and more protective
also as a little warning I am not well versed in werewolf lore, so if anything in this fic is way far off I apologize.
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fic is below the cutoff
Your stallion's hooves slosh in the mud as you canter, riding towards a little area near Valentine that you’re planning to camp at for the night. The moon is full tonight, resting high in the sky and casting the night in an eerie, pale glow with dark shifting shadows. For the last few weeks you've been on the run, sleeping under the stars or in abandoned houses and buildings as you drift further and further away from Saint Denis. It wasn't your fault really. The man you killed? Well he deserved it. But every action has consequences… You’ve been drifting since it happened, never staying in one place too long. Parts of you miss your old life, the structure of society and sleeping in a bed. But the freedom that your current life offers is unmatched.
You've made it all the way up to the cliffs now. It would probably be safe to stick around, surely you're far enough away by now. But an itch under your skin urges you to keep running, to get far away so that they will never find you. Pushing the doubts out of your mind, you whistle, and hear a bark in answer from your Australian Shepherd, Marley. He's running beside your black thoroughbred, Ares, just as eager as you to set up camp for the night.
After some convincing that the law won't find you this far north, you slow Ares down to a trot, passing by a lightly wooded area along the train tracks. Beyond the trees is a small opening. It's big enough for you to comfortably set up a little camp, but wooded enough to protect you from the near constant drabble of rainfall, and more importantly any wandering eyes from the tracks. You deem the spot safe for the night, whistling for Marley to follow as you trot through the treeline.
It's been a tough few weeks. Your clothes have been growing a little looser around your frame, and your little stash of money from your father’s savings has depleted to nothing. You don't know how to hunt, you're from the city. With no means to get food, your options have depleted to two: steal or starve. There's already a bounty on your head and you don't plan on increasing it, but you know what they say about desperation. Twice now you've stolen saddlebags off of tethered horses in search of food or money. You've rationed your supplies enough to get you this far, but now? Well you're pretty well screwed.
Hopping down from Ares with a pat of gratitude, you reach into one of the stolen saddlebags in search of something useful. Something soft touches your hand, and you pull out some clothes. There's two shirts and two pairs of jeans. With a sigh, you shove the clothes back into the bag. They're of no use. They're way too big for you, but maybe you can repurpose the cloth later. You step around Ares’ backside to reach into the other side of the bag. Luckily, you find two pieces of salted beef.
“Well, we got dinner, boy.” You smile, tossing one up into the air and watching as Marley catches it in his mouth.
You don't have a tent, never got one after escaping Saint Denis, and you don't have a bedroll either. So as per usual, you opt to find shelter under a large oak tree, laying on your saddle blanket and resting your head on your saddle in the dirt. It makes a decent pillow, and it provides Ares with some relief for the night. After finishing your dinner, you eye your boys. Ares is lying in the grassy patch ahead of you, enjoying the subtle rainfall after a long day’s run, and Marley curls up in the grass at your side.
“Don't worry boys, we’ll find somewhere more permanent soon, alright?” You whisper to them, almost drifting to sleep. You try to stay awake to watch the night. The moon is so full, so bright, unlike any night you’ve seen before. It's equally beautiful and mysterious. The grass dances in the breeze, shining under the moon’s white light while being tapped by slow sprinkling rain. Your eyes slip shut… and Marley barks.
You know Marley. He’s your best friend, and Marley only barks at danger. Immediately you sit up on the saddle blanket, gripping the handle of your knife out of instinct.
“What is it boy?” You whisper, scanning the treeline to no avail. Ares has stood up, and is whinnnying, stomping his feet and tossing his head in trepidation.
Every hair on the dog’s back is standing straight up, and he bares his teeth towards the eastern side of the forest with a low growl. Your brows knit together, as you see no lights or signs of anything.
“Marley, what's the matter?” You coo, reaching out to calm the dog, but he's too quick. He barks, and takes off into the east side of the forest.
“Shit, Marley!” You yell after the dog.
With a sigh, you run over to Ares, not even bothering to put the saddle back on. You sit on him bareback, quickly urging the stallion into the forest after your dog. It's difficult to navigate the dark forest, but Ares needs no guidance as he weaves around trees and jumps over fallen logs after your dog. You have to hang on for dear life as he jumps a particularly large log, as it's much harder to sit without the aid of your saddle. Slowing Ares down to a slow trot, you stick two fingers on your lip and whistle as loud as you can. It's too dark to see anything, and the rain has picked up, soaking your hair and causing rivulets of water to drip into your eyes and drench your clothes.
You hear his returning bark, and you spur Ares in the direction of the familiar sound. After cantering around a few more trees, you spot Marley. He’s cowering on the ground, shaking with his head on the ground in submission. At first you’re afraid he’s been hurt, and you jump down from your stallion to approach the dog.
“Marley…?” You whisper, slowly approaching him.
The breath leaves your lungs when you hear it; The loudest howl you have ever heard. It’s mangled and painful, and so, so close. Your heart beats rapidly, time slows, and you can feel the moment its eyes are on you. Slowly, you turn around.
In front of you is the largest wolf you have ever seen in your life. Well, you’ve never seen a wolf other than in the paper but this wolf- there's something different. It’s a male, surely the alpha of his pack, if he has one. He has a sandy blonde coat, broad head and shoulders, and even standing on all fours, the wolf is almost as tall as you. But the most stark detail is his eyes. They are bright, a green-blue mixture that can be compared to the blend of the tide and the sky. There’s something so human about his gaze that you’re almost knocked to the ground by its strength. The wolf’s eyes are locked onto your own, and it tries to step towards you, but stops suddenly and cries out in pain. Your eyebrows draw together, and you step around the right side of the massive wolf. His eyes stay on yours, and suddenly you feel no fear. It’s like you’re supposed to be here, you're supposed to find him. It causes your breath to hitch in your throat, and a dull pressure to buzz in your chest, but you ignore it, continuing your observation of the animal.
“Oh, you poor thing.” You whisper under your breath upon the sight of his mangled, bloody back leg. It's caught in a particularly nasty bear trap, who knows how long he’s been stuck here. You eye the wolf carefully for a moment, and when you sense no aggression, you step forward. The trap is a pressure lock, and you can dismantle it with your bare hands. Determined, you wipe your hands on your jeans.
“Alright, now I’m gonna set you free, but you can't eat me, okay?”
You swear the wolf chortles at your comment, and you lean down in the mud, pressing down on the bear trap with all your might. It clicks a few times, meaning that it’s close to opening. You stop pushing the trap and gasp in shock when you feel the wolf press his nose into your waist, inhaling deeply as if he is savoring your scent. You stutter, and quickly continue pressing down on the trap until it fully snaps open. The wolf takes one full deep breath of your scent, and then throws his head up towards the full moon and howls. It's so loud that your ears almost hurt, but it's not nearly as strong as the pressure in your chest, the unfamiliar buzz that is threatening to rip you in two. You clutch at your rib, gasping in shock when the wolf brings his head back down to look into your eyes. The wolf’s blue irises have been replaced with two deep crimson circles that stare back at you. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can hear it. But just as quickly as you found him, he is gone. He turned tail and ran, limping away on three legs. You’re left in shock, mouth agape, sitting against the wet forest floor.
— two weeks later —
You search through the bottom of the same leather bag that you’ve checked three times, foolishly hoping to find some food for you and Marley. You need to find something soon, or you’re going to have to venture into town, which may or may not end up with your neck in a noose. With a sigh, you toss the bag on the ground by your campfire. Tears threaten to fall as you pet your shepherd dog, apologizing for the lack of dinner. Ares is already laying in the grass, and you decide to hit the hay as well. Like every night, Marley curls up beside you while you try to fall asleep. His steady breathing, and eventually his snores almost lull you to sleep, but you’ve been having trouble sleeping. For the past two weeks all you’ve been able to think about is him. You know what he is now, you remember the stories that your Pa used to tell you. The legends of beasts in the west, far more dangerous than the outlaws inhabiting it. Well, they weren’t just stories. You think of him every night, wondering why he ran, why he’s this far east in the first place. Tonight is no different, in fact the ache in your ribcage is especially strong tonight. You’ve felt it ever since that night.
Eventually, you’re able to quiet your mind, blinking foggily as sleep overtakes your senses. Just as your eyes begin to flutter shut, two blue circles blink from behind the treeline, and then you fall asleep.
— the next day —
The evening sun wakes you up, surprisingly warm despite the cold day. The light filters through the trees, casting your face in a yellow glow. You'd slept almost the entire day, but you needed it. You haven't been sleeping well, too busy thinking of the wolf. You yawn, sitting up and stretching your arms before checking for your boys. Marley is chewing on a stick beside the charcoal left over from the campfire, and Ares has his head to the ground, grazing on some fresh grass. As you go to stand up, something fiery red catches your eyes and you snap your neck in its direction. About five feet away from your makeshift bedroll is a fox. It's been killed, perfectly hunted in such a manner that the pelt is in perfect condition. With your brows drawn together, you lean over and pick up the fox. Two neat, large canine teeth marks have punctured the animal's neck.
This was him.
You're overcome with relief at the fact that he's okay. After he'd run off you weren't sure where he went, or if he had a pack, and someone to fix his wound. You've been thinking about the man for weeks, wondering what he looks like, sounds and acts like, what his name is. Quickly you pull out your hunting knife, taking your time to skin the animal neatly. Every cut is articulate, something you learned from working for the trapper in Saint Denis. You know how to clean, cut and cook an animal, just not how to actually hunt one. You rest the red pelt fur down against the dirt to dry, and then get to work on your fire. Marley brings you back enough twigs and sticks to get a fire going, and before long you're placing nice cuts of meat over the fire, cooking a decent meal for the first time in a while. Marley seems grateful as well, coming over to the campfire to check on the food with his mouth watering.
It's a good breakfast, well dinner. You don't have much to season the meat with, but a few pieces of oregano manage just fine. You and Marley share the fox, saving the rest of it for the following days. With the day pretty much over before you've even started it, you pull out your journal.
Ever since that night in the woods, I feel this ache. It's like a rope. I don't understand it much, but… it's pulling me to him. I know it is. He left me a fox- first good meal we've had in a day. That's gotta mean something, right?
Your fountain pen stops on the paper, and some ink pools out of it, leaving an ink blot. Your eyes widen at the sound of a twig snapping, and the feeling in your ribs intensifies. You carefully close the leather journal, setting it down on the ground before pulling your knees up to your chin and smiling.
"Come out. I know you're here." You call out boldly, standing up from the ground and facing the forest in the direction of the snap. You can feel eyes on you, but you can't pinpoint his exact location. Behind you, Ares begins to spook, pawing at the ground and snorting in irritation. Marley growls, and you follow his gaze until you see the wolf.
He's even more beautiful in the daylight. Now you can really see the contrasts in his coat color, like brindle between tan and brown. His eyes are just as striking without the added glow from the moon, and now they shine bright blue. He steps out from the forest slowly, head down to placate you. He steps right up to you, almost eye to eye. The buzzing in your chest is so strong, like the rope is pulled so tight that it's on the verge of snapping.
"You ain't no regular wolf… I've heard the legends, but I didn't think there would be any of you this far east…"
The wolf's eyes close and he nudges his head into your side, one again inhaling your scent. You're not sure why he does it, but you don't mind. Hesitantly, you bring your hand up to the wide spot between his ears. You expected his fur to be coarse, but you're wrong. It's soft, like thick layers of silk. Your hand glides over his head, petting his ears while he leans further into you.
"Thank you for the fox." You whisper, smiling sheepishly at the familiar stranger.
Slowly, he turns around, going towards where your saddle blanket is laid out on the ground. He gently takes the serape blanket in his maw, backing up and dragging it with him until he's a bit away from you, hidden in the shadows of some trees. You watch on, confused, turning around a few times to coo to your animals. You can hear some growling, some uncomfortable joint cracking, and then to your surprise, the exasperated groan of a man. Your eyebrows dart up in surprise, and your jaw drops when he steps out of the shadows.
He's the most attractive man you've ever seen. His wolf form is a perfect match to his human form, he has tanned, sun-kissed skin, peppered with freckles. He's covering the lower half of his naked body with the blanket, but it doesn't hide his strong, chiseled chest. Clearly he takes care of himself. His build is muscular and broad. His hair is the same sandy blonde as his wolf's coat, and those eyes, they're just as beautiful now as they are as a wolf's. You don't realize that you're staring until he talks.
"You ain't afraid of me?" He questions, almost unbelieving that you haven't run away yet. His brows knit together just enough for a petite line to make itself evident on his forehead.
"No… you've been nothing but kind and you've helped me. Hell, you coulda ate me." You chuckle.
At the mention of that night, you remember the trap and his injury.
"How's your leg?" You ask. Your eyes move down his right calf and you see a freshly pink, rough scar marking the wound where only two weeks ago he was torn into. No human could ever heal that fast, it must be a werewolf thing.
"S'healed. Got fixed up in no time." He says, drawl low and deep. He moves over towards the fire and sits on the ground, you follow.
"What are you doin' out here anyway? Ain't safe, 'specially not by yourself." He inquires, making sure he's covered with the blanket as he looks to you for an answer.
You're not sure how you know, but you know that you can tell this man the truth. And yet you find yourself hesitating, so instead you rebuttal his question.
"I could ask you the same, mister." You quirk, smiling a bit as Marley trots over to sit by you.
"Well what's your name, then? Finally get to speak to ya, I should know your name." You ask.
You're shocked that somehow your manners slipped and you forgot to introduce yourself, but the introduction feels… odd. It's like you've known him for years. You tell him your name, to which he smiles, nodding his head like he approves, or is proud of it.
"My name's Arthur Morgan." He chortles. As if the situation isn't indecent enough, you just remember that you have an extra pair of larger clothes from the stolen bag that might fit Arthur perfectly.
"Oh, I have some clothes that might fit you. Don't even bother askin' how I came about these but- should be clean and hopefully your size." You say, standing up and grabbing the stolen saddlebag of clothes. Your boots squish in the wet grass as you bring the bag over to Arthur.
He takes the bag, and with no shame, drops the blanket to the ground.
Oh.
So apparently the part of his body that was earlier covered by the blanket was the best part. You can't help it, and he doesn't mind. You watch as he grabs clothes from the bag. There's a trail of soft brown hair that trickles from his chest hair and dips down to the base of his shaft. You gulp, closing your eyes and forcing yourself to look away from the absolute masterpiece that rests between his legs.
When Arthur is decent, you turn around, cheeks still flushed bright pink from shock and embarrassment. He hands the saddle bag out to you, which you take and toss back towards your saddle on the ground. Both of you glance to the west, realizing that the sun is setting and it will be dark soon.
"I better get goin'. It'll be dark soon…" Arthur whispers, as if there's something he wants to do or say but can't bring himself to. His eyes look to the ground, and he tips his head to you before turning around.
To his surprise, you grab his wrist. The tether between you two grows so strong that it hurts.
"Arthur, please don't go. Why don't you stay the night? Head back to wherever it is you go to in the morning." You practically whimper.
He doesn't even have to think, of course he'll stay, for you he will.
— four hours later —
The night is cold, very cold. The combined effect of your lack of coat and the slowly approaching winter doesn't help. You're curled into the tightest ball you can manage, hugging your knees and shivering. It's miserable, the type of cold that seeps into your bones. Arthur had shifted before laying down for the night, and you can hear his steady breathing behind you. He hasn't slept all night. You've drifted in and out of sleep, but he has stayed awake all night, watching you, protecting you, checking the perimeter a few times.
As soon as you begin to shiver, Arthur stands up. He circles you a few times, whining as if he is debating with himself over something. But as you whimper, miserable from the night's cruel nature, Arthur trots over. He lays at your back, and you practically moan at the relief. Arthur is so warm. You turn around, curling yourself into him. His fur is like the softest blanket you've ever felt, and his body radiates heat. It's cathartic.
"Why are you helpin' me? Bein' so kind?" You whisper, nuzzling your nose into his warm fur.
Arthur presses his wet nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent once again. Just like the first night you met him, the color in his eyes bleeds to red. It's beautiful, and you look into them, curious about the change of color. You can feel that tug in your chest again, it's strong tonight, but you ignore it, pressing yourself into his frame until blissful sleep finally overcomes you.
When you wake up he's gone.
— twelve days later —
Arthur… I saw him up on the ridge above my camp today. I don't know if he runs in a pack, or why in the hell he's so far east, but… he keeps an eye on me. I swear I see those green eyes just beyond the treeline when I fall asleep. I can feel his presence when he's nearby, like something is pulling me to him. I have this drive to be around him in a way that I can't explain, like I need him… but I haven't seen him since that cold night.
You steady your hand, focusing on the old oak tree ahead of you. As you exhale, you release the knife, smiling as it lands directly into the thick trunk of the oak tree.
You trod over to the tree, bending down to pick up the few knives that you've lodged into the tree, and the two that landed on the ground. Marley barks excitedly, and you turn around to find the source.
Arthur…
He steps out of the woods slowly, head held down as he approaches you in his wolf form. He's breathing heavily, as if he was running for a while to get here.
"Been wonderin' why you haven't come to see me. Had me worried some hunter had you mounted on their wall." You joke, reaching out to pet Arthur's head. His eyes slip shut, and he pushes his nose into you, almost roughly, as if he needs this like a starved man. He once again inhales your scent deeply.
It's then that you notice something in his maw. Your eyebrows knit together as you hold out your hand. He opens his mouth, dropping a rolled up piece of paper and a wooden wolf into your hand. You're confused as to why he didn't just tell you whatever it is the note says, but you don't have time to ask as he turns tail and runs away, eyes red.
"Arthur, don't go!" You cry out to no avail.
The buzz in your chest grows as he runs and you ignore the ache, looking down to the items in your hands. The little wooden wolf is beautiful. It's been hand carved from a piece of oak and a knife. Tears well in your eyes as the ache in your chest grows, and you open the note.
I'm sorry. I can't stay around you. It's hard to explain, but it's better if I leave you be. That ache in your chest, like something pulling you? I feel it too, and more than anything, I wanna be with you, but it's not fair for me to do that to you, darlin. ‐ Arthur.
Rivulets of tears run down your cheeks as you sit on the ground, hugging your knees. You've been doing research, stopping into libraries to read books on legends of western wolves and lycanthropes. You've learned how they used to run in large packs, how they were hunted almost to extinction. But most importantly, you learned about their mates.
They can't choose their mates, instead they are pulled together by the moon. You think over the feeling in your chest, how many times you've written about the invisible tether that pulls the two of you to each other.
Is Arthur your mate…?
And if he is, why is he leaving you?
— two weeks later —
The moon is full tonight, and all you can think of is Arthur. You know he'll be out running tonight, and you hope that he comes by. You haven't seen him in weeks, and it's only made your ache to be around him stronger. Maybe the moon will alter his control, drive him to come see you. You’ve been stopping in at libraries in town, sneaking just enough to hide your face from the passerbys. Every book on lycanthropes that you've been able to find has been thoroughly analyzed. You know why he’s hiding. And dammit, if he would just come back you could convince him to stay. You rest a stray leaf in between the pages of your book to mark your page before setting it down on the ground. Marley trots over and you chuckle as he lays down on your bedroll.
It's late, past midnight as you stand up and start to dress down for the night. You’re not worried about wandering eyes, it's dark, and anyone who steps foot in your camp to look will be met with a bullet. You strip your jeans and shirt, standing bare in the grassy opening. You run your fingers through your hair, before reaching onto the ground for a clean shirt. Just as you go to grab the cloth, you hear it. A low, deep, growl resonates from the forest, it’s him. Through the opening in the trees you can see glowing red eyes, and relief washes over you. His crimson orbs are locked into the little wooden wolf that is tied around your neck.
“I know why you left, Arthur, why you think it would be best for me.” You whisper, extending your hand out as Arthur steps out from the woods slowly. His paws are massive, expertly stepping over the terrain as he inches forward.
“I've been reading and learning about wolves… I'm your mate, aren't I?” You say, barely above a whisper. Arthur leans in and licks your collarbone lightly. His eyes are so beautiful, deep red like roses.
“I feel it all the time. It’s like a tether, I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You sigh as Arthur just stands there, listening to what you’re saying.
“Be great if I could hear what you’re thinkin’.” You bite a little, irritated that you are always talking but can never hear him.
You watch as he shifts. It's a fluid movement, much more graceful than you would have expected, and in just a few moments he is standing in front of you. His eyes have returned to their soft blue, and you lean in to press your hand against his cheek. Both of you are completely bare before the other, and yet neither of you are uncomfortable. He looks to you with a question.
“You would tie yourself, you would mate to a stranger?” He asks, eyes glowing red for just a moment on the latter half of the sentence. You chuckle at his misconception. Arthur gently takes your wrist in his hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the tender skin on the inside of your wrist. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your throat.
“Arthur, you’re not a stranger,” you chuckle, “In this time I’ve known you, you've shown me your character time and time again. I was hungry, cold, alone, and now I’m not.”
You both feel a buzz of electricity run through you, and Arthur groans deeply as he wraps his hands around your soft waist.
“Arthur, I- I need something, but I don’t know what it is. Please-” You moan against him, the tether clouding your mind. He presses his lips to your forehead, gently kissing down your temples.
“I know what you’re feelin’ and I can make it better, but darlin’ you know how this works, right?” He asks, squeezing your hips a little. Something comes over you and you can't feel anything but him, you need him.
“I want to be yours, Arthur.” You mewl, pressing your nose into his chest. Arthur growls so deep, it breaks you out of your trance for a moment. His blue eyes lock onto yours.
“You look at me. Don’t let the bond fog your head, you want this?” He asks, gripping you tightly.
“Yes.” You whisper with more clarity than you’ve ever felt. For the first time in your life, you feel at home. This is where you should be, what you are meant for.
He’s yours
Arthur’s eyes remain locked onto yours as he lifts your wrist up to his lips. Your breath quickens in anticipation as he gently bites down on the side of your wrist.
It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Suddenly you are whole. You are part of something bigger, you are with him. His other half. Your souls are permanently bonded and you can feel him all around you. You gasp at the raw emotion of it all. The tether between you and him pulls even tighter for a moment before it snaps and releases. There is no need for it anymore, as you are one. Tears fall down your cheeks as you lean up to kiss Arthur. Everything is right when your lips crash together. He moves against you as emotions sweep through you like a wave, crashing and swirling together.
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