#i knew we'd see him but my heart is so happy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesilmarillionblog · 3 months ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

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Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18 (MINORS DNI) smut, virgin reader!, unrequited love, heavy angst, reader gets hurt, kinda friends with benefits, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, language

Word Count: 7216

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'WASTE' by Kxllswxtch

Dean's eyes narrowed as he treated your wounded hand; you smiled a little to yourself as he talked about how you sometimes behaved recklessly. If only he knew how much you cherished the moments when he protected you during a hunt.

You had been with him and Sam for a year now, and it was difficult to resist falling in love with him. You weren't sure when you fell in love with him, but you sensed it from the moment he smiled at you, or maybe in a random moment. Every time you glanced into his green eyes, you felt a sense of admiration. You had absolutely no complaints.

He complained as he was working to treat your wound, “You must know, I will consider kicking you out of the team if you keep acting like that.”

It began to rain in your house's weak light. Your heart was filled with fright as he took care of your wound in your house, where you were alone, and it seemed so calm; you were afraid of losing that precious, fragile time with Dean, not of ghosts. You weren't afraid of ghosts.

You asked naively, as if you had no idea what he was talking about, “Like what?” When he grabbed your hand too tightly unintentionally, and that sudden moment hurt you a bit, you attempted to draw it in toward yourself with a pained gasp.

With a look of regret on his face, you looked at him with understanding.

“When I tell you to get behind me, you must do what I say, or when I tell you to stop, you must stop.”

“Remember the previous case in point,” you sighed. “If I did what you told me, we'd both be dead.” You looked up to see how he was feeling.

“It was only a single exception,” Dean immediately defended himself, rolling his eyes at you.

“However, if I had listened to you, I would have been killed. You too,” you mutely remarked. You weren't attempting to put the blame on him. You were aware that he was guarding Sam and you constantly. You dropped your eyes to your eyes as he looked at you, feeling instantly overwhelmed and overpowered by his piercing stare. “I promise that when I go hunting, I'm not being careless. I truly listen to you, but you must have some degree of faith in me. Since I joined you and Sam months ago, I'm convinced he has more faith in me.”

You wanted Dean to think highly of you, someone whom he could always trust, just as you trusted him with your life. You wanted him to trust you, your strength, and your feelings. Even if you were quite successful, you felt that he still seemed to be unsure about you.

This time, instead of cracking one of his jokes to lighten the mood, he seemed to be deep in focus. When he appeared so confused and like he was in pain on the inside, you wondered what exactly he was thinking. Though you didn't think you could stop him from ruminating at that moment, you still wanted to help him if he was in pain, calm him down if he was feeling anxious, and comfort him if he was feeling uneasy.

The sense of worthlessness was an emotion you wanted to stay away from.

When he noticed that you weren't as happy as you had been minutes before, he stated in a dry voice, “I don't want you to get killed or hurt because of me. I do trust you, but you have to stop acting reckless and try to save me by endangering yourself.”

“I wasn't putting myself at risk. You're exaggerating,” you said as you continued to examine his hands while he continued to take care of your wounded hand.

“You're very stubborn, aren't you?” In an attempt to soften the thick air, Dean smiled back weakly.

You chuckled and tried to catch his gaze by raising your head as you drew nearer and moved on to where you were sitting. “But Sam thinks I'm the easiest one to get along with and easiest to persuade,” you said.

Dean winked at you suspiciously and said, “Hey, I guess you were right about something.”

“About what?”

“He's dumb when it comes to reading people, huh?”

You muttered, “Asshole,” and gave him a little leg kick. It made him laugh, which made you joyful.

Dean let go of your hand, gave you a long, odd smile, and checked his watch after making sure you were okay and being well taken care of. You could feel the joy leave your body when you realized he wasn't going to stay or anything. You had no idea how to get him to stay with you, at least for a day, at your home. Still, he was always on the move. It's fortunate that he didn't hear how quickly your heart was beating, how much you wanted his touch, and everything else.

You said in a hushed tone, as if you didn't give a damn whether he said ‘yes,’ but you cared like crazy. “You can spend the night in here if you wish.”

“I think I have other plans for tonight,” he remarked, flashing you his adorable grin and a wink. “We move so much throughout the day. The town must have missed me.”

You chuckled slightly and said, "By whom exactly, Mr. Loverman?” You noticed that the rain was falling more quickly through the glass.

Dean gave you a haughty look and stated, “By ladies, of course,” which made you jealous, but you didn't want to show it to him and ruin your friendship.

Playing with the fabric of your sweatpants, you said, “Boys. They come and go.” You attempted to ignore the vivid images of Dean with other women that were playing out in your head. It was unavoidable, but you didn't want to get jealous and mess up everything. “New ones appear all the time. Don't be worried about the women who missed you.”

He smiled and replied, “You're a smartass, aren't you?” You felt encouraged to continue since he didn't appear to be offended or anything.

“And you're overconfident in yourself. Have you yet to be rejected by someone? Not even once?” You said it inquisitively.

“Just once,” Dean remarked humorously. It eluded you whether he was being serious or joking. At times, it was difficult to understand him.

You tried to chuckle as you remarked, “Must be fun.” You sounded like you were going to choke though.

Dean spoke for a little while before attempting to get up and leave your home, but the electricity unexpectedly cut off, leaving you gasping in surprise. You backed away from him with a shy grin, not because you were afraid, just because you realized you had touched his knee.

You said, “Ah, it doesn't look like the rain is going to stop soon,” and to your relief, he sat back on the seat. As it was pouring heavily, you expressed your gratitude to God and Michael for their generosity and compassion, which you felt had come once in a lifetime.

At least once, you prayed that night's rain would never cease so Dean wouldn't go.

"Yeah," he said in a dry voice. It was your hope that he wouldn't feel stuck with you and let down. Dean was aware that although you weren't terrified of ghosts, you were fearful of being alone yourself in the dark. “Do you want me to light a candle?”

You timidly replied, “I guess I don't have any.”

“All right.”

“Are you still planning to leave or spend the night?” You tried not to seem enthusiastic as you asked, but with anticipation. You hoped that his ability to read your face in the dark would be poor.

“I suppose it's best if I stay with you. You're a lovely young girl who, in the end, is more terrified of the dark than ghosts. As a gentleman,” he murmured, moving to a more comfortable position on the coach. “It's my responsibility to protect and repay you tonight, don't I?”

You laughed as though he had made a joke, but in reality, you were only finding it difficult to hide your happiness at his answer that he would stay. The angels seemed to fill your heart with such incredible bliss. If it would force him to spend his time with you in that manner, you may put yourself at ongoing risk. You wished he understood how much you valued each and every word he said.

“How about you, though?” Dean asked out of the blue. Although his face was concealing himself in the darkness, you could tell by the tone of his words that he was perplexed.

You asked, perplexed, not understanding what he was talking about, “What about me?”

“I haven't seen you with...someone in a long time since you joined us,” he said. You may argue that he spoke slowly in order to carefully select his words so as not to offend you or cause you distress. “Actually, I've never seen you with someone nor heard you talking about anyone.”

You attempted to give him a confident smile, but all you managed to do was give him off an odd look. “Uhm,” you stammered out while attempting to think of anything to say without looking foolish. “Those hunts are challenging and exhausting.” You attempted to explain to him, “I'm not interested in seeing someone right now, and I can't find time for myself.” You were hoping he wouldn't dig too much.

You weren’t the best when it came to lying.

As if he wasn't okay with your explanation, he grumbled, “We've been staying here for a month, and we are not even that busy.”

You wouldn't tell Dean that you were an inexperienced one in your mid-20s, as you knew he was very skilled with women. You just could not possibly make yourself look so foolish in front of him. You were unsure what he would think about you. Definitely, it was best to remain silent.

You said, “I'm just not interested and feel like I have no time for anyone,” trying not to sound like lying. Although it wasn't a total lie, how in the world could you admit that you were truly interested in someone, him, and that's the reason you weren't interested in anybody else?

You wanted he could read the words on your lips and your voice so you wouldn't have been trying so hard to explain things to him while hiding yourself away from him for so long.

Love was something that both wanted to be hidden and to be revealed. It was complicated and bizarre.

Dean finally responded, “You're right, actually,” after giving you a long stare. “You should avoid things that might distract the focus of your attention. Men might easily split your soft and lovely heart in half.”

You asked, irritated, “Why do you say that?” You always believed that since you avoided people so well, nobody would ever consider hurting you or anything like that.

As he moved a little closer to you, Dean smirked and remarked, “Like you say,” which made you tense. You couldn't see him well, but his smile was joyful. Before continuing, he arched an eyebrow and nibbled his bottom lip. “I'm ladies' man. I read women really well, and you're easy to see through.”

You said to him, “You really are a ladies' man. But I'd say you are illiterate.”

Dean gave you a small chuckle and made the decision not to push you too far or make you feel more shy. And anyhow, he wouldn't allow you to talk about males, not right now. You did not require guidance since you did well on your own. “Hey, I see that you’re a little sharp today. After taking care of your wounded hand, I made the decision to spend the night with you and look how you treat me. You're being ungrateful.”

He made a false furious look at you, and you couldn't stop laughing. “You do realize, though, that I have once again saved your ass. I'm beginning to feel like you must repay me for acting as your guard. Like an angel.” You gave him a little smile and added, “That means something, right?”

Dean said, “It does,” with the same lighthearted tone as you, his eyes examining your face up close in the dark as your smile slowly faded from the corners of your lips.

You gasped in surprise and fright when an unexpected lightning strike struck with such force it seemed like the sky had been split in half. Dean laughed, seeing as how you really jumped on the coach.

“I can't believe you're not afraid of ghosts, witches and all, but just some raindrops,” he stated in astonishment. Your pulse beat like crazy when you felt his breath close to you, but Dean probably assumed it was because you were frightened.

Both of your arms and legs touched, but you tried not to react. “I'm not afraid of rainy weather or something,” you replied. “It's normal to be jumpy when an unexpected noise like lightning appears.”

In an attempt to annoy you, Dean said in a persuasive voice, “It was just simple lightning. Many things might come as unexpected. You can't always get scared.”

You said, “Like what things?” as if in plea.

You stared at his wonderfully shaped lips in the darkness as he spoke in a whisper. Your lips felt so dry that you wanted to lick them. Although you hoped he didn't notice, at that point you weren't really worried. Yes, you were a virgin with no prior experience, and you were very determined to keep your body and mind closed off to others, but things seemed different when you met Dean. It wasn't that you were old-fashioned-minded; you just wanted to be with someone you cared for, someone you loved.

You were aware that the desire to be near him was more than simply passion; you wanted to touch his face, jaw, hair, and every other part of him. Your soul yearned to be near him desperately.

Dean failed to notice when another lightning strike made you jump. It wasn't the finest moment for him to think clearly. There was always something enjoyable to do. Given that you've known each other for a while and that it must have been a while since you allowed someone to touch you, it seemed appropriate to blow off steam with each other. It was, after all, a difficult and somewhat tiresome a few hours earlier.

Just when you thought you were going to pass out, Dean suddenly captured your lips and began to give you an urgent, intense kiss. Yes, you were somewhat inexperienced, but at least you've had a kiss. Quite some time ago, indeed. You made an effort to calm down, returned his kisses with your best effort, let your racing thoughts disappear into the darkness, and gave yourself over to that single perfect moment.

You sucked Dean's lower lip, and your fingers stroked his jaw as his skillful tongue dominated yours. He must have been encouraged by your response because he moaned a bit as he shoved you back on the coach and pushed you to lie under him. He kept giving you firm kisses throughout.

His muscular neck was stroked by your hands as you drew him in between your knees. You shuddered as he put his body between your legs. It was the realization that your body was missing something that you were unable to identify. Your entire body exuded passion and desire. It hurt to need Dean so much. You had no idea how you had been able to contain yourself for so long.

You were longing to touch him all over.

Dean moved his lips to your throat, allowing you to take a deep breath. You were unable to contain a giggle as he violently sucked on your neck and throat. You realized you were sensitive there.

“Don't keep those lovely noises from me. Are we not the only ones alone in here?” While he boldly touched your skin beneath your shirt, Dean whispered. Though you urged yourself to relax down a little, you felt like your heart would burst at any minute.

It was possible that he might back off if you revealed to him that you were a virgin. It was certain that he would. You attempted to pretend that you had experience too and that it had simply been a long time because he was just interested in hook-ups, and that's what you were going to go through. It hurt to admit it, but maybe things would change.

You never would have imagined that you would feel that way about Dean, and you refused to miss the opportunity to be with him by telling him you weren't deflowered just yet. All you had to do was appear bold and avoid raising suspicion with your awkwardness.

Your cheeks flushed red, but at least the room was completely dark, keeping your almost scared gaze and timid finger movements hidden from him.

Your hands gently slipped inside his t-shirt, touching every muscle in so as to savor it. Your breath quivered with anticipation as your palm brushed every part of him. You could never let someone else touch you in the same manner that Dean did.

Dean's eyes were on you, and as he nibbled your lower lip, you urged him to remove his shirt. You could see he was smiling a little bit when he pulled it off. That you were prepared to go one step beyond thrilled him.

You must have pushed your injured hand a little bit hard when you gasped in little pain after both of your hands reached his back and you enjoyed the feeling of his muscles beneath your palms.

“Hey, be careful and take your time there. Remember that all you are is a wounded gazelle under my mercy. You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?” As he worked on your clothing, Dean said in amusement.

You moaned in surprise as one of his hands slipped into your shirt and gave you a strong grip on your nipple. “Maybe I am,” you murmured, almost laughing, but the noise you made turned into a moan.

You made a little movement beneath him. It seemed as though your body needed something from you or him, but you were completely unaware of what was going on. All you knew was that you were desperate for Dean to do something.

You gasped somewhat alarmed as your nipple hardened between his skilled fingertips. As he slid on top of you and played with your tits, you got excited more and more, assuming that he wanted this as much as you did. You thought for a moment that it was actually romantic considering it was all dark and raining like hell outside, like the whole heaven wanted you to be with him.

You nailed Dean's back with boldness, crushed your lips to his once more, kissing him with desire while trying your hardest not to show Dean how shy you were in fact. It relieved you to hear him groan a bit in your mouth. You moaned quietly into his lips as soon as his thumb started playing with your nipples once again.

Dean moved quickly to help you remove your shirt by pulling back. You were shivering a little, but even though he was making your skin hot, you would have blamed the room's cool temperature if he had asked.

His lips made their way to your nipples, where he expertly sucked them with his tongue. Your back arched as his lips nibbled your breasts delicately, and you forgot about your envious thoughts about how many other women he had treated like this. This time, you were unable to stop your loud moan from filling the room.

Dean gave both of your nipples little licks and a firm kiss after sucking your tits for many minutes, making them slippery with his spit, and making you cry out beneath his body. You didn't know how pleasurable it was to be with someone doing such things.You were aware that you were attempting to create friction by placing your leg on his hip.

He whispered to your lips, “I bet you're fucking dripping there,” as his hands gently moved into your sweatpants. He was trying to see every expression on your face in the dark. His voice was rough as he asked, “Are you wet enough to take me?”

You managed to say something like “Hmm,” which is sufficient. “I think I am.”

“We must be sure,” Dean remarked in a lighthearted manner. “Let's see.”

Dean slid his fingers slowly inside your sweatpants. He was grinning a little over you when he heard your heartbeat. As you waited for what was going to happen, you gripped onto his shoulder.

His fingers touched your underwear, causing you to gasp in surprise as he gave you a soft touch. Every second, you felt like you were becoming wetter. You believed you might orgasm at any minute since your clit was so sensitive to him. You wanted more because of how ethereal and gentle his hands were. You needed to raise your hip to him and squeeze his bisceps in order to receive what your body craved.

Satisfied, Dean moved your underwear aside as he watched you twitch under him in desperation. He rubbed your clit some more, then used two fingers to feel how wet you were.

Dean kept pushing back on his groan. He said in surprise, “Fuck, I knew you'd be wet, but you are literally leaking there.” You had no idea whether or not it satisfied him. All you wanted to do was the right thing. Regardless of what it was.

You lied when you said, “It's been very, very long,” since you had no idea what to say. The way he responded truly made you feel a little awkward.

You felt better after sharing quick kisses on the lips with him. “Good,” was Dean's sharp reply. “How many times can I get you to come to me tonight? You deserve appropriate treatment in light of the effort you have been doing these last few months, you know. I must reward you.”

Encouraged, you had a blossoming sensation of bliss and anticipation in your chest. You wished that light would never return and that you and him would always be in the dark together in that very moment.

He touched you during hunts and other times to make jokes, but you didn't used to be physical like that. Watching him being intimate with other women except you was agonizing. But now you knew you could touch him whatever you pleased right now. Just like you imagined when you thought about him, you touched yourself.

Dean palmed your moisture in his hand, causing you to both pant into each other's mouths. You felt a little uneasy as one of his fingers began to gently press into your entrance since you weren't sure if it would hurt that much or not. You just didn't tell him anything since you didn't want to spoil things. All you did was wait expectantly.

He said, “You're a tight one, aren't you?” as he kept his finger inside of you. You were glad Dean wasn't being swift with you. You withdrew your lips from biting and captured his, pushing him into doing what he needed or desired as well.

Dean expected that you would be tight, but he didn't anticipate that level of tightness. He was taken aback by how tightly your walls clamped around his finger, and he couldn't help getting thrilled at the thought of feeling your cock around him. He was shivering with excitement coursing through his veins.

You bit your lip hard in pain as he pressed his thick finger a little further. You didn't make any sound that might have stopped him. Dean would stop in an instant, you knew.

He must have realized how uncomfortable you were, though, because he began to touch your clit more in an effort to prepare you to become accustomed to him and make you wet enough to take him.

As he worked on your clit, he remarked, somewhat smirking, “It seems we need to get you ready for me; otherwise, it might be painful a bit for you.”

“I'm prepared. Really,” you said, lifting your hips in the course of action. “You can go on.”

Dean groaned a bit and pressed his finger inside again. He used extreme caution. You whimpered and attempted to make yourself quiet by stealing kisses from him to silence your whimpers.

Dean withdrew his finger and then thrust it back, not allowing you to say something. His abrupt movement caused your lips to parted in pleasure and enthusiasm. Even though there was still some discomfort, it was soon overshadowed by pleasure and desire as he began to properly finger you. You grabbed onto his shoulders because your pussy hurt from yearning. You tried to put your groaning mouth into Dean's, but he wouldn't let you kiss him.

You could not help but let a moan out in ecstasy as your back arched when he gently pushed another finger and began to fuck you with them. You made a valiant effort, but it was impossible to avoid coming so quickly and effortlessly.

Dean moaned, “Give it to me,” realizing that you were making it difficult to come. “Come to me now. You're almost there; I know that.”

As soon as your climax hit, Dean grabbed your lips and planted a passionate kiss on it as he touched your chin with one hand, allowing you to ride your pleasure in between moans.

Your hips rose to get more pleasure as though you could, your back arched, and your walls clenched hard as you rode your climax. Dean's experienced tongue expertly dominated yours as he murmured into your lips. He withdrew to give you a bit of time, and while he did so, he studied your face in the darkness, as if he wanted to remember each and every shadow that passed across your skin in the flickering light.

He was at a loss as to why he had never touched you before. For a while, at least, it felt pleasant enough to become sidetracked.

Your cheeks became scarlet as your climax wore on, but you were itching to go one step more. For that, you were ready. For a long while, you had been ready to give Dean everything.

If he asked, there was nothing you wouldn't give away.

You planted a hesitant kiss on him to gauge his reaction before your shaky hands made contact with his legs and through his trousers. You could see more of his face as your eyes grew used to the gloom. Your hands became braver as you watched him smile, and boldness invaded your body and thoughts. The sexual experience shouldn't be difficult. Particularly with him.

Shortly after your hand briefly ran over his hardened cock through his trousers, your fingers somewhat slid into his boxer. You were taking your time to gauge his reaction. You were hoping he wouldn't say no, draw a line, or worse, end it up.

You yearned to offer him the same pleasure that he gave you.

In a weak but hopeful voice, you asked, “Can I touch you?”

With a charming chuckle, Dean added, “You can do whatever you like.” His voice carried expectation, which made you thrilled even more.

You reached out and stroked his erect cock, feeling that it was safe to go a step further and meet his gaze with yours. His sly smile vanished from his mouth as he stifled a moan and shifted on top of you, his hand still resting on your thighs and legs.

He said, “It seems like you're cold,” as soon as you began to touch him.

You retracted your icy hand in an ashamed attempt to mumble a “sorry,” but Dean reacted swiftly and put your hand back to his aching cock.

He responded, “We'll get you warm,” and helped you put your hand around his cock to feel closer to him and to give you the confidence to continue. “Your hand feels so good around me.”

Driven by his words, you felt each vein on his cock and then circled your fingers around it to memorize him. You weren't familiar with his length or anything because you weren't an expert on male anatomy, but he was thick, so it was difficult to properly wrap your hands around him. You reasoned that it would be best to take some action to get him to come.

You moved your hands and began to rub him, trying not to feel shy as you stared into his eyes. Your chest was rising with excitement, and your breathing was heavy. His gasping for air made you pleased and aroused; all you had to do was give him the same pleasure.

Dean told you, “You're doing so good,” in between strokes.

You inquired quietly, “Do you like it?”

“I really like it,” Dean said as he planted a kiss on your neck. He paused at your sweatpants and began to carefully lower them with his hands.

Your hands were moving more quickly on him, and your heart was racing. He felt larger in your grip. He was nearly there. But Dean gently stopped you, pushing your hands aside and planting a kiss on your lips. You sensed that the big move was about to happen.

He saw you were becoming stiff as he assisted you in taking down your sweatpants and underwear, so he questioned you suspiciously, “Are you nervous?”

You lied once more while waiting for him to remove his clothing. “No, of course, not,” you said. When he removed his boxer, you could have practically felt the chills beneath you. You had everything you had on the floor. “It's just cold in here.”

“Trust me, you'll feel warm very soon,” said Dean confidently. His tone had hints of dedication.

You shifted slightly beneath him to find a more comfortable position. Luckily, there was plenty of room in the coach. You put your hands on Dean's back, feeling his hardness on your stomach, and you waited for him to do something already. Though plainly aroused and moist, you were still a little anxious. You

didn't want to come seem as inexperienced, though. You wished for this to keep going.

“I do trust you.” That was true at least.

Dean believed you.

While you waited, he took his cock and gave himself two or three strokes. Witnessing him stroking himself got you even more aroused.

Dean positioned himself on your entrance, making you tense up a little, then brushed his hard cock on your clit after making sure you were both ready. But you were determined to see it through to the end. It was almost like a chance to win him over in a romantic way. Maybe.

He pressed the tip of his cock, and you laid your hands on his back and nailed him like crazy. He was able to slide inside you very easily because of how wet you were, yet it was still uncomfortable and painful.

You bit your lip to suppress your agonizing groans and not to make him stop, so as not to seem like a wounded animal or anything.

Dean groaned over you, “Fuck, you are really tight,” pausing just before pulling away. It was difficult for him to fit inside completely.

You whispered to him, embarrassed, “Sorry,” attempting to calm down and let him in.

“Just relax,” Dean said, taking another position. You nodded to him quickly.

He again pushed his cock inside of you. This time, your pussy was around him tightly, drawing him within. He let out a sigh of delight at that. Your eyes welled up with tears as he withdrew and used a forceful motion to push himself forward. It was as though he was slicing you in two. Thankfully, he was unaware that a few tears had trickled down from your eyes onto the coach. However, you were unable to cease whimpering in pain.

Dean sensed when you were ready and gave himself a single, full thrust. You nailed his belly and back and moaned in agony this time because of his harsh moment.

You were no longer a virgin while you were lying beneath him. Even though the man you loved was unaware that you had given him something unique, you knew that no matter what happened, you would never regret it.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. He could not believe how tight you were. Your walls were drawing him in, constricting around him all the while. If he was less experienced, he would have come inside you as soon as he entered your pussy.

“I am,” you urged him to continue, your voice quivering. “Just give me a moment, please.”

Dean gave you a kiss to help you relax. He saw that you were a bit anxious and that you needed to wet yourself a little more before you could handle him. He was sure sloppy kisses would be helpful.

Dean stepped back after a while and questioned, “Are you ready now?” You were clenching around him, and his patience was getting thin.

You nodded to him, and Dean retreated and pushed inside again without waiting another moment. The way he fucked you was rough and painful for you. You didn't complain though, even if it was hard to get used to his size and pace in such a short amount of time. He moved slowly at first, but as you got wetter beneath him, he accelerated his pace.

Dean moaned, “You're taking me so well,” while fucking you in a rough way. His delighted tone and praises made your heart sing. “I like how tight you are.”

You only said, "For you." His compliments caused the anguish to become joy, and this time you didn't suppress your moans. You had no idea that you would enjoy this so much.

“Oh yeah?” he said, teasing as he whispered into your neck, picking up speed. “You sound so sweet. Do you like the way I fuck you? I should have fucked your lovely tight cunt sooner.”

Your face turned red the moment he spoke dirty words into your ear. They were about how much he liked fucking you everything else. The whole room was filled with sloppy and obscene sounds that made you blush with shyness. You were becoming even more excited at the sound of his heavy balls hitting your pussy. You began to tighten up around him. Although you were trying to hold back to extend the moment, you were getting close.

“This won't take long,” he groaned, getting his fingers tense around your flesh. It was difficult for Dean to control himself. You were tightening around him, whimpering beneath him. “Come to me. Come now!”

When Dean moved around a little inside of you, he started to fuck you harder and find your sensitive spot. With a groan, “Take it. Come on,” he said, fucking you senseless.

You reached your climax and clenched him with his name on your lips as your screams became louder and you were unable to contain yourself any longer. Dean proceeded to fuck you throughout your climax by lifting your hips and drawing his body to you in order to receive more pleasure. You believed you might come again right there since your pussy was throbbing so much.

After Dean made sure you rode your orgasm, he let out a deep grumble, pulled out his cock in between your startled gasps, and began to stroke himself. You became excited by his stroking himself on top of you, even though you had just rode your climax.

When Dean began to empty himself on your thigh and stomach, you jumped. You waited for him to empty himself as you saw him spill his hot white ropes all over your body. You glared in shock as you watched him riding his pleasure.

You were no longer a virgin there, under him. It had happened. You were aware that he was only a friend and that the situation was really a bit awkward. You waited for remorse to surface, thinking that nothing would change with him, but it didn't. You didn't feel any sign of regret. Giving something unique to a loved one, even if it held no significance for them, was never wrong. After all, love was generous, and it always needed to consume the untouched places of your body and spirit.

With a low grunt, Dean moved your bodies on the coach and, to your astonishment, embraced you. It was obvious that he was satisfied. Dean grabbed the blanket that was hanging from the coach's corner and laid it over your bodies. You trembled as the heat took the place of the cold. You simply drew nearer to him to enjoy the moment because you had no idea what to do. You pondered whether this would occur once again.

Jokingly, you said, “What now?” Still, a lot of questions raced through your head.

Dean sighed and said, “It's pretty late and seems like the rain won't stop any soon, so let's sleep.” You remained silent regarding what had transpired.

Saying, “Okay,” you leaned into his embrace and made an effort to keep as close to him as you could. The thrill you had just had began to gradually fade away, leaving you alone yourself with despair and sadness.

Dean remarked, “By the way,” before he closed his eyes. “Let's not talk about this to Sam or someone else, alright?” Though gentle and soothing, his words were sharp and cut you through.

You said, “Sure,” immediately away. “Of course not.”

As though nothing had occurred and you weren't naked in each other's arms, you told each other good night. Although it was awkward, you made the choice. When you made the decision to go all the way with him, you knew that was what would happen.

You got out of bed before Dean did, picked up your clothes from the floor, and headed to the bathroom for a long shower. Whatever is done is done. It was irreversible; you convinced yourself. Nothing was a regret for you. You were relieved that it only happened with Dean. It was the appropriate decision for you to keep the details from him. He wasn't made to feel oppressed by you or anything. This would ruin the friendship and also ruin you.

Dean also woke up, and you two didn't chat much after that. You felt a little uncomfortable, but as soon as Dean returned to his lighthearted demeanor, you felt at ease and acted naturally. When you saw he didn't put distance between you, you felt relaxed.

That's how three weeks went by. Everything was well.

Following a disastrous hunt that left Sam with an arm injury, you enter their home and assist Sam in taking care of his arm. The hunt this time was challenging, and you were distracted.

Sam was giving you and Dean one of his puppy looks. You felt terrible.

With remorse, you murmured, “I'm sorry, Sam.” He injured his harm in order to protect you, yet he didn't blame you for anything. You have probably never met someone as kind as he was.

He said, “It's okay,” and made an agonizing moan as you carefully cleansed his arm.

Dean snapped, “It's not,” in a harsh voice. He was across the room, observing Sam and you. He had his fists crossed over his chest, obviously frustrated with the current state of things. After all, Sam was his brother. “There, you should have been careful. Sam could have hurt badly because of you.”

“I know,” you said, panicked. “You are right.”

“I don't think so,” Dean stated sharply, glancing at Sam's injured arm. “You've been distracted for a while. I attempted to ignore it and hide the mistakes you made, but today they could end up killing Sam.”

Your pulse raced, and you felt guilty as you proceeded to handle Sam's arm carefully. As he persisted in blaming you, you found it difficult to contain your emotions.

“It won't happen again,” you stated in a tremulous tone while keeping your gaze on Sam's arm.

“It's alright. Dean, please stop being so grumpy,” Sam eventually pleaded in an insistent voice.

“You shut up,” Dean said, gesturing to Sam as if he were a little child. In fact, you were aware that he remained a child in Dean's eyes.

As you began to wrap a white cloth around Sam's injured arm, he groaned and pressed his groan back. “You're being annoying right now,” he said.

“I'm going to be more annoying if you two keep acting like this, you know.”

You said, “I'm really sorry,” and you gave Dean and Sam sincere looks. “It really won't happen again.”

Dean nodded at you quickly and sighed. However, it was clear that he was frustrated with you. “He's all I have.”

“I know.”

You and Sam didn't say anything further about what had transpired. Thankfully, despite his curious and suspicious stare, he remained silent. To get better, you had to gather yourself. But it was challenging. You questioned whether being near Dean worked as a deterrent for him to stay away from you.

A week went by, and Dean came home with a blonde woman by his side as you and Sam were spending the night in the house eating pies and watching a movie.

Jealousy took over you, but you smiled and greeted them instead of pulling a grouchy face and making a scene. Dean's hookups and lovers became routine to you. The things that had happened weeks ago weren't important, even if it was hard to admit. Not a word about it was spoken.

Last several days, Dean had been annoyed, but when he kissed the blonde, he was a completely different person. Happier, more relaxed. Though your heart was pounding from pain and suffering, your gaze remained riveted on the TV. It was pathetic how much you wanted to be her. It was a hard swallow.

When she, Dean, or Sam told you something, you smiled and engaged in conversation so as not to arouse suspicion. They eventually made their way to Dean's room, and this is when your eyes started to well up with tears. You were unable to stop it. You uttered a little sound as your heart gripped with so much agony and suffering. You had no idea why. It might all have been different, but it wasn't.

Sam saw your eyes become wetter in the light, and he gave you a dubious look, but none of you said anything.

You longed to travel back in time as soon as you heard it began to rain outside. This time, you weren't fond of the rain or how it felt.

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope you like it. Let me know what you think, please. ^^

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sinstae · 1 month ago

Text

French Kisses 💋

Pairings | L&DS!Rafayel x fem. reader

Genre | ☁️fluff, 💋smut

Word Count | 3.3k

Warnings | ⚠️ minors DNI ⚠️ established relationship, Dom!Rafayel. Sub!reader, nude painting, tipsy sex, nipple play, teasing, thigh riding, dry humping, vaginal fingering, bigdick!Rafayel, riding, use of Evol, squirting, creampie, fem. receiving oral, cum eating, aftercare 🤧, cute couple

🔖 m.list♡

a/n ; oml- idk why but like this has just been a scene replaying in my head so I had to share this with you guys! Thank you everyone who participated in the poll! Long awaited but 'tis here 💜 stay tuned for my Zylus series that I have planned, so excited 😆 hope you 'njoy! c;

"I want to paint you like my little French girl."

I blink up at Rafayel, my confused gaze meeting his of purple mirth.

“I’m- huh?”

Agreeing to come over to Rafayel’s I never know what to expect only that I’m definitely gonna have my hands full. Of all things, I didn’t expect my boyfriend to suggest nude painting.

“My pretty French-“

“Well, I heard you. I just mean- are you implying what I think?” He’s so close it’s hard to hide the heat rising to my cheeks. A beautiful smile graces his lips, showing off his perfect denture.

“I certainly don’t intend to draw you with a baguette-ow! Baby what was that for?” Rafayel rubs the side of his pec I’d pinched with a slight pout. A very cute pout.

“You freaky frog!”

“Am not!” I raise an eyebrow at him. “It truly is for artistic purposes but-“ He leans back down over me, caging me against the soft orange leather.

The bluish purple hue of the night makes his pretty, pale skin all the more ethereal. His eyes shine even more so when he looks at me; something I noticed from countless failed “studying” attempts which ends in me gazing at him as he paints.

“-I do also think you’d look absolutely stunning on my canvas.” He’s close enough for our noses to touch now. My breath comes up short as I’m stuck staring once again. The moonlight must be a paid actor along with the wind brushing his soft locks across our foreheads.

His breath smells fruity thanks to the amazing fresh assortment we'd gotten earlier in the day- that and the wine.

"You're drunk." I try to deflect, unsure about posing nude yet excited to be admired by Rafayel. A part of me is also curious as to what he sees, what he thinks is beautiful. What about me is so beautiful?

"You wish." He leans back into his position with his leg tucked beneath him as the other brushes the floor.

"I am." I'm not entirely but it's definitely enough to have me consider this. Seeing him in his element from time to time, Rafayel is a beast and a true creator at heart. Most pieces he's passionate about he takes the most time with. Others he could pump out by the dozen.

"Ah-ha! I knew this was a great buy. The guy in the market was on his game but I was skeptical."

"Raf, you always give in to the market sellers." I snort.

"Always? I don't- okay maaaaybe I do but in good faith! I believe they should keep at it, we all have to start somewhere." Rafayel crosses his arms dramatically and I hug my knees tighter, grinning like an idiot. "What's so funny?"

"Hm? Oh- nothing's funny just. . ."

"Just?"

"I'll do it." His eyes widen and he's analyzing for a moment, bracing himself for my fit of giggles and a "gotcha!" but that doesn't come. Instead I stare right into his deep ocean eyes and slowly his face relaxes and the corner of his lips tilt upwards.

"Truly? Ahh.. This makes me so happy. You're my perfect muse, baby." Rafayel leans forward onto his knees again to press a kiss to my lips so abruptly I have no chance to reciprocate. "Let me get everything prepared, yeah? I want you in the sunroom."

The sunroom.

Rafayel's most favorite place to paint. He has beautiful floor to ceiling windows that stretch around the dome shaped room that extends to the roof. Everything is visible there, the beautiful sunrise and sunset that bleeds into the starry night. I'm sure his reasoning is for the sake of lighting because he has a selection of colors or perhaps it's the full moon he wants to take advantage of. Part of me hopes it's because I'm just as precious as his work he keeps locked away there.

He emerges from the hallway after a while and he looks so excited that a fresh wave of anxiety and thrill envelops me.

“Come, Darling. It’s time.” I stand and walk into his open palm.

“Y/N look at me.”

I tear my gaze away from the beautiful set Rafayel clearly took his time planning. Instead of the glass windows as a backdrop against the red plush sofa, Rafayel has set up velvet curtains in a deep blue shade. Pretty jewels hang from the top creating a glittering effect with the help of the moon shining down.

I meet his eyes and he smiles, reaching a hand up to brush his thumb below my right eye. “Hi beautiful. You’re looking nervous.”

“Don’t tease. I’m super nervous.”

“Don’t be. It’s me. I’ve seen you in all your beauty already.”

“I know, I know but not like this. You’ll be staring at me for hours.”

“I also already do that.”

“Raf-“

“Baby, please. Don’t overthink this. I promise I won’t just have you pose there in that pretty head of yours. I’m here with you, yeah?” I release a shaky breath.

“Yeah, okay. Okay, let’s do this.” Rafayel’s smile reaches his eyes and he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead before stepping back a foot.

“Now, allow me to unwrap my canvas.” He tucks his finger under my black muscle tank and his chilly finger leaves goosebumps in its wake. As he removes it over my head, revealing my bare breast, he presses kisses to my face then along my arms then across the top of my breast as the cloth drops to the floor.

“Raf don’t-ah~” He ignores me and latches onto a nipple, sucking softly, as both his large hands perk them up. Once he’s satisfied he frees them and stands to his full height over me, tucking a finger into the waistband of my leggings.

“I believe you can handle this, right?” His lips are blushed and slick from his saliva, a beautiful sight paired with the look in his eyes.

I nod, not trusting my voice to stabilize itself while I remove both my leggings and cotton panties to meet my tank. I should thank the Moon and stars above that I decided to randomly shave this morning.

Under Rafayel's gaze I can't help a bit of shyness but his words will always lift me into security. "The most beautiful human I've ever laid eyes on." What a way to single me out.

"Thank you." He holds out his arms and I step into his embrace. His soft fingertips start at my shoulders, massaging gently, then he moves them down the sides of my breast to my waist. He digs into my love handles with a small groan while he leans down into my neck.

"Wow, wow, wow. . .I'm the luckiest fishie ever."

"Mmhm, my fishie."

"Glub glub." He playfully nibbles under my ear making me squeal into the fabric on his shoulder. "All yours, cutie."

He provides me much needed space to breathe and get my bearings before jumping his bones by leading me at the hand to the love seat. I take a seat, blinking up at him awaiting instruction.

"Lie down on your side for me. Mhm, perfect- now relax onto your left palm- no other way, yes good girl. Stop biting your lip, freaky frog. Now let the other hand rest over your tummy just above your hip, yesss yes. Okay now stay still."

Rafayel is true to his word and through the whole process of finding his colors and creating a sketch he entertains me with countless stories and small talk. He allows me a break every so often as he obsesses over an area to avoid my limbs from going numb.

Although I wouldn't mind going numb in another sense.

"I lost you." His words halt my thoughts before they could venture further but he doesn't seem upset or in a rush to continue as he sets aside his brush. "Am I starting to bore you?"

"No, of course not my love. I get easily distracted, you know this. I'm sorry, what did you say?" I feel slightly guilty but he just seems amused.

"Being under my watchful eyes doing things to you?"

"Mmm, a little." I pick up the wine glass from the floor, taking another sip as I eye him over the rim. "Staring at your muse isn't doing things to you?"

Rafayel stands up and walks over to me, one hand tucked into his pants while the other reaches out a finger to tap the rim of my glass. I place it back down onto the floor and sit up straight. He brushes the hair spilled over my shoulder back to expose my chest again then squats down, pressing a kiss where my neck and shoulder meets.

"It's doing many things. . .My line art came out perfect, my passion came easy." I meet his eyes as I lift a hand to guide him by the cheek into a kiss, the first actual kiss of the night.

“Ah- my lipstick. Sorry baby.” I wipe his bottom lip but it just smudges into his skin.

“Don’t be. Paint me too, my love.”

I smile big, surely looking like a smitten fool as I lean in and press a cherry kiss to his cheek. I instinctively wipe it, smudging the corners of the print while Rafayel leans in for another kiss.

He guides me onto my back as he inches his way onto the couch with me, keeping our lips connected in a heated lock of lip biting. “Open..” his finger taps my chin and I open, allowing his tongue inside to dance against mine.

Rafayel pushes his thigh into my core, his clothes rough against my pussy but the friction heaven sent. I moan into his mouth and he eagerly drinks them up as he rocks into me. I feel his growing erection against my inner thigh and I try to reach a hand down to feel him heavy in my palm but he stops me, gripping my wrists together with one hand.

He breaks the kiss and I chase his mouth, releasing a puff of air as he leans further away. Rafayel chuckles, showing off his canines. “I like you like this. Panting for me, look at you.” His voice almost coos and it makes me a bit self aware, blushing under his gaze.

“Stop teasing,” Half of me is saying that while the lower part of me wants him to continue. Rafayel has never given me a night without utter bliss, falling apart at his hands (and mouth) multiple times a night with the stamina infused in him. He truly isn’t human.

"I'm not though. You look so beautiful like this. . ." He brushes stray hair from my face. "Hair in its natural state, makeup fading, skin soft." He digs his equally soft hand into my thigh and I open wider for him.

"Raf, please. I need you."

"I know sweet girl, I'm not gonna deny you." I give him a look. "Nor will I tease, I promise. I just want a last look at you." He trails his ring clad fingers down the side of my cheek to the base of my throat, squeezing gently, then ends his journey at my breast. He pinches my nipple, making me intake air, choking up on my moan.

His head dips down and follows the sting with his warm mouth and tongue while his hand continues down my body to where I want him most. Rafayel runs his middle finger along my lips, gently pushing past each time he strokes upwards until he brushes my clit.

"Oh~" My eyes fall shut as I turn my face into my bicep, clasping my hands together as I fight against my body wanting to shake and squirm under his touch. A rush of adrenaline courses through my veins turning them hot the more pressures he applies.

Rafayel looks up at me over the plump of my chest, releasing my blushed nipple with a wet pop. He adds his ring finger in with his middle as he dips into my wetness again then brings his soaked fingers up to slip into his mouth.

He moans with a mouthful. "So sweet." He licks his lips as he withdraws his fingers to bring them back down to my open legs only this time he gently applies pressure to my opening with precision. With the right amount of pressure, and an angle he knows well, his fingers easily slide in and he curls them.

"Deeper," I gasp and take advantage of his hand around my wrist loosening to reach down and grasp his long sleeve. Rafayel groans as he rolls his hips harder into my thigh, fingers sliding deeper until the cold silver around his fingers touch my warm insides.

"Fuck, you're so hot, Y/N." Rafayel is breathy in my ear as his hand slides into my own, grasping tightly, as he forces his hips away before he blows his load in his pants. His fingers keep their pace while he kisses along my temple and cheek. "Doing so good, baby. I feel you, you're close. Aren't you?"

The rasp and need in his voice is enough to help me reach my peak, walls clenching sporadically as he sneaks in a third finger to attempt to match his girth. My orgasm rips through me, nerve endings feeling like sparks as I clutch him to ground myself.

"Yes, let me hear that beautiful voice sing. My little Siren." Rafayel removes his fingers and smears my cum along my body, hands moving as if it's a paintbrush in gentle strokes. I follow his hand while he watches my face, scrunched and flushed in pleasure as I moan softly.

Rafayel smiles to himself and leans down to press a kiss to my lips then his large hands slips underneath my arms to switch our positions to me straddling his hips. I brace myself with my hands on his shoulders as I keep my hips lifted while he works his pants and briefs off.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you riding me. You look so beautiful on top." He kicks his pants to the side, hands rubbing my ass and squeezing as he lowers me down against his dick. He's fully erect and his tip is red, probably angry from the dry humping. Rafayel moans as he slides his dick through my lips and against my clit, teasing us both from the sensitivity.

"Raf~ ah!" Before I could complain he lines himself up and drags me down till our pelvis meets. The first thrust is way too deep in this position taking all eight inches of him. I jerk upwards, top of my feet resting over his thighs to help push myself. "Wait- fuck, ah please~"

Rafayel tries to help with rubbing my tummy with one hand and the other resting on my ass. "You can control it baby," I breathe a sigh of relief. "For now."

I ignore him, too lost in the growing pleasure as I rise and fall, only taking half of what he has to offer. It's more than enough with his girth filling me and it seems to satisfy him as well. Moving his hand from my stomach he guides my breast towards him, sucking my nipple with deep moans as he plays with the other.

"Thank you, thank you." I cry out in pleasure against his hair as I hug his head close, arching my back as my hips speed up taking another inch.

"No, thank you my sweet Y/N." A litter of kisses to my breast. "You're so beautiful, riding me so well... Take more for me? Please?"

I pull away, looking down at his hazed over eyes full of adoration and lust. Rafayel isn't known for his patience, especially when it comes to pleasure. While he doesn't rush, his hips certainly doesn't do slow. He has the stamina of a bunny at times and cause of that he's the only man to ever make me squirt.

The first time it'd happened he was stuck staring in awe while I was extremely embarrassed having not warned him. He assured me it was nothing to be ashamed of and he's been hell bent on making it happen any chance he gets.

Perhaps tonight.

I give in and slide down another inch, walls fluttering around him. He releases a breathy moan and his wavy hair sticking to his forehead makes him look so sinful and-

“Pretty boy~ ‘m gonna come again- ack! Gentle baby, so sensitive right now.” Rafayel giggles around my nipple he’d just bit into then presses a kiss as an apology.

“One more and you’ll surely be able to take all of me, cutie.” He litters kisses all along my jaw and neck as his hands roam my spine and ass. My pace slows as I inch closer to pleasure, angling my hips to have his tip nudge my g-spot.

“Fuuuck yes!” I squeeze Rafayel’s girth as I come, whimpering and moaning into his hair as he quickly works my clit like a DJ. I grip his wrist to halt his pace but he fights against me until he gets exactly what he wants. “Raf no~” A pornographic whiny moan bounces against the glass panes as my body shakes almost violently while I squirt all over his toned abs.

“Oh- sh-shit.” Rafayel takes advantage of my walls loosening in its relaxed state and slides me down to meet his balls, tip aching to breach my cervix. He knocks the air from my lungs and damn near my consciousness.

I feel my body start to slump when suddenly I feel coolness near my lower tummy. I look down through teary lashes and Rafayel has activated his Evol. Beautiful baby blue tendrils swirling through my cum, collecting it to create a raspberry shape then it floats into his open mouth. His eyes flash purple.

My eyes are wide, face blushing red at the sight and he just smirks.

“Mmm, my favorite taste. You’re so sweet."

"You-"

"I?"

"You just-"

"I- I-" Rafayel chuckles while I pout from his teasing, reaching out to grab the back of my neck to pull me in closer. "Take just a little more for me, Darling. Yeah?"

I nod weakly with our foreheads pressed together as he shifts my upper body weight onto his, holding my ass suspended in place to thrust up into. I keep my eyes on his, feeling every emotion swirling in his orbs. My walls slowly grow tighter with each increasing thrust into a new pace and his grunts come more frequent.

I whine at the oversensitivity getting to me while wrapped around his neck using him as a lifeline. Muscles aching, clit throbbing, nipples brushing, deep thrust send us both into an orgasm- mind numbing for me.

When consciousness finally finds me again I'm on my back in our bed with Rafayel between my legs "cleaning" me up. Really he's just being a freaky frog, slurping both our releases past his pouty lips.

"Raf~ baby please- no more." I moan the words out but Rafayel knows to call it quits with a last long lick towards my clit. He grins up at me and kisses it then trails kisses up my body, now dressed in a violet silk slip, to press a bunch of pecks all over my neck.

We roll around in a giggly fit until Rafayel cages me in his bare biceps, using a bit of strength to keep me still. I look up at him and his eyes are so soft matching his smile. Using his arm that isn't holding me, he raises his hand to brush his thumb across the bridge of my nose, cheeks then lips before leaning in.

"I love you so much, my Y/NN."

"I love you mostest, my Sea God."

I relax further into his hold feeling my sleepiness begin to creep in as he presses gentle kisses to my lips before angling my jaw to slip past my lips with his tongue. I can't remember the defining moment of falling asleep but fresh on my mind when I awake is French kisses.

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justwinginglife · 4 months ago

Note

hi!!!!^^ uhm may I request soshiro hoshina x reader where they are forced to get married but hoshina is unhappy and tried to get the reader to hate which lead to a massive argument between you two you can decide the ending^^ or maybe just he found you heavily injured after the battle because you can't focus?(angst with happy ending)

it's ok if you don't want to make it^^. please don't mind my english it's not my first language

I totally don't mind your English, thank you so much for the request, I'll do my best with it! I appreciate you reaching out.

Done Deal

You were supposed to marry Soichiro Hoshina. Everyone knew it. You were his. You'd been his since birth. Your family and his family had planned this your whole lives, and then he went and ruined it by joining the Defense Force. It pushed plans back farther and eventually it seemed like you might never marry him if he kept stalling like this.

You didn't mind. It gave you time to do what you actually wanted. You even got to know his younger brother. You were actually closer in age to Soshiro but being the first born of your clan, you had to marry the first born of his clan which put you in your current predicament. Just waiting to be trapped in a loveless marriage.

Of course you and Soichiro had learned to be pleasant with each other over the years, but there was no chemistry. And it didn't help that you always stood up for Soshiro when Soichiro would pick on him. He'd complain that you were supposed to take his side because you were his fiancee. You hated him calling you that. He only liked this arrangement when it was convenient for him and you knew it. You'd roll your eyes and tell him to stop being a jerk and then you'd split a popsicle with Soshiro while Soichiro sulked off somewhere.

You liked Soshiro but never thought about being more with him due to the hopelessness of your situation. Then after years of nothing changing, the situation finally progressed. His parents called you over to their estate to discuss your current engagement.

"At present- it seems Soichiro is unwilling to marry, saying he's busy running a division. And of course, stubborn Soshiro has gone off and joined the Defense Force against our advice as well, but he's only a Vice Captain and he has more time to carry out our wishes. We'd like you to carry on the clan name with him instead and make heirs."

You were shocked. Was this really happening?

"Does... does Soshiro know?" You ask slowly.

They shook their heads. "He's on his way in now, we'll discuss more when he gets here."

You wait in silence, your heart thumping in your chest. Soshiro was to be your husband. Soshiro- the boy who hid with you high in the branches of a looming tree while his parents searched the entire estate for you, trying to force you to spend time with his brother. Soshiro- the boy who snuck you food through your bedroom window when you got in trouble with your parents and they sent you to bed with no dinner. Soshiro- the boy who once whispered when you were sick and he thought you couldn't hear him that he might have loved you better than anyone if he had been given the chance. You swallow at the memory. You had both been teenagers then. You wonder if he still felt the same. It had been a long time since you'd seen him, he went off protecting his country and you had taken up managing your family company like the good heir that you were.

The only time you'd ever broken rules or didn't follow instructions was when you were off having fun with Soshiro. But those days were over now. You were grown and you'd have to act like it. You couldn't keep avoiding your fate, your job was to take over as the family head and so you did.

You wonder if you disappointed Soshiro. He used to always ask you to run away to the Defense Force with him when you were younger, sparring together for practice. The look on his face when you told him you couldn't see him anymore because your parents had caught wind of your reckless activities with him... he must've hated you then. You wondered if he hated you now.

You watch as he enters the room, removing his shoes and kneeling before his parents, not looking at you.

"Ah, Soshiro. Welcome home. We have much to talk about."

He listens in silence as they explain the situation. You peek over at him and his face looks strained. You almost wince. He looks like he's nearly in pain at the thought of being stuck with you. It stings more than you thought it would.

He finally speaks. "No. I refuse. Tell Soichiro to get his ass back home and take her."

Your eyes widen. "B-but why?" You say suddenly and then clap a hand over your mouth.

He huffs, his eyes trained on the wooden floor at his knees. "Why? Because you're his. I don't want someone else's woman."

You want to say, "But I'm not though." You don't say anything.

"That's what I thought." He gets up and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

You flinch.

His parents apologize to you and invite you to stay over at their estate for the week while they make wedding preparations. They completely ignore Soshiro's blatant refusal to marry you and continue on like it'll happen anyway.

You eat dinner with them in silence, your thoughts swirling in your head. You try to hold back tears that you weren't even aware you had for him. How could he not want you? You know it's been awhile since the two of you were on friendly terms but you thought he might brush that aside because of how much history you had together.

After dinner, you go to the room the Hoshina's have prepared for you. You stare out the window at the familiar tree you used to climb with Soshiro and as your eyes trace the trunk upwards, you see a figure sitting on one of the higher branches. You almost laugh. Just like old times huh? You slip out of your kimono and put some pants on.

You reach the base of the tree and run your hands over it, smiling softly as the memories come running back to you. Then you start to climb. He sees you coming and calls down to you to go away and leave him in peace. You ignore him and keep climbing, pulling yourself up higher and higher. You sit on a branch across from him. He looks away from you.

"Don't remember your hearing being so shit." He grumbles, picking at the leaves on the branch.

"Don't remember you being such an ass." You shoot back with a laugh. It's just good to talk to him again alone, even if he is being a jerk.

He rolls his eyes and then just watches you for a moment, appreciating the outfit you've changed into. "You looked stiff in that kimono anyway."

"Shut up Soshiro. I looked good."

He snorts but his cheeks flush a little.

You lean in to get a better view of him and he waves you away.

"What is it with you anyway? I don't see you or hear from you in years and now all of a sudden you're trying to marry me. I see you're still doing whatever the fuck your parents want." He snaps.

You inhale sharply at that. Yeah. He was still bitter. "I... I know." You say slowly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's all you've got to say? You're pathetic. I would never marry you." He bites his lip as he says this, almost like he wants to take it back.

You don't notice his regret as the tears have started to well up in your eyes. You reach for him but he flinches and you pull away. "I'm sorry. You're right. But I just thought... maybe I could love you better than anyone if I was given the chance," You say, quoting him from when you were teenagers.

He stops breathing.

You wait for him to respond but he doesn't.

You sigh and nod, defeated. "Goodnight Soshiro."

You start to climb back down the tree, you're almost all the way down when your foot slips and you fall.

You hear him gasp right before you hit the ground.

Everything goes black.

You dream of Soshiro. He's smiling at you and he offers you half of his popsicle. "I want you to... to try to love me." He says.

You reach out and touch his cheek and he nuzzles against your hand.

"I do want it..." He repeats again. I know you do, you try to say but your mouth doesn't seem to want to move.

"So please, please just wake up. Just come back to me and I'll marry the shit out of you." He pleads, his voice strangled now.

You blink.

"What do you mean Soshiro? I'm right here."

He disappears from your dreams and searing hot pain fills your head.

You try to stand but your legs don't work. The pain from your head starts to seep down your neck and into your back. Everything hurts. Everything aches. You can't move.

You blink. Blink again.

Soshiro is leaning over you, eyes wide, fingers trembling as he grips your hand. "Oh thank god. You're awake."

"I think I may retire from my tree-climbing days," You groan as you remember what just happened.

He scoffs at you, irked you're making jokes about being injured, but a small smile tugs at the edges of his lips. "Idiot. Just rest for now okay?"

"Thought you said to wake up, now you want me to go back to bed?" You poke his cheek.

He grabs your hand before you can pull back and he holds it there, against his cheek. "You're such a handful. Most troublesome wife ever."

Your eyes widen. "W-wife?"

He nods slowly, watching your reaction. "Let's... let's get married yeah?"

You smile, ignoring the pain searing through you at the effort it takes just to do it. "Just takes me falling out of a tree to seduce you huh?"

He scoffs again and rolls his eyes. But then he looks down at his fidgeting fingers. "You meant what you said... up there, right? I want... I want you to try to love me."

OH. So it wasn't a dream. He actually said it.

You smile even wider and snuggle closer to him.

"It's a done deal."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #anime #hoshina #anime fanfic #hoshina x reader

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changetyre · 3 months ago

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How long? II Lando Norris X Reader ⓈⒾ

SUMMARY: Finding your soulmate doesn't always include a happy ending.

WARNINGS: Angst Angst Angst with a sprinkle of fluff. Sickness, death.

A/N: This is a story I wrote a while ago for Wattpad and which I always loved but reading it back now there's been things I've wanted to adjust which is what I chose to do here ;)

Lando POV II

"Tell me about her," she asked me passing me back our photo.

I looked at it, my thumb grazing over her in the picture I kept in my wallet.

_____

Y/N POV II

Lando and I've been together ever since I can remember. We met when we were only toddlers and became inseparable ever since. We both knew in our hearts how much we meant to each other, we knew that we couldn't live without each other. However, another part of us, and everyone around us, told us there would come a point where we'd meet other people.

And we did meet other people, in fact when I went to college and Lando joined F1 we both decided to try to date others and it was the most miserable time in both our lives. Which only reinforced our feelings, we were irrevocably in love.

We were aware that we were a very cheesy couple, the kind of people who just didn't care when people were around us and loved to show our love for one another no matter the time and/or place. We were the kind of couple to gift each other little things and have dinner dates every week. Land never failed to bring me flowers every weekend since we started dating.

Life felt like a dream when we were around each other, we literally felt like we were in the clouds, floating in our own bubble of love. But it didn't take long before it burst.

Given the amount of time Lando and I had spent together we had discussed anything you could possibly imagine and despite some thinking this was a horrible and selfish thought, when Lando and I talked about losing one another, we always thought he would go first...simply because of his job.

What Lando didn't know though was that every night and every time Lando went on track I would pray, pray for his safety, pray for his health, pray that if one of us had to go...for it to be me...because I could simply not live a life without him...the single thought made me choke up.

'Be careful what you wish for.'

One year ago I was diagnosed with Breast cancer. For some reason the news didn't come to me as much of a shock as I thought, it was like something in my mind and body had expected this, had somehow mentally prepared me for it. On the other hand, I could tell how much this devastated Lando, so much he'd set his mind on quitting F1 to care for me which I had to practically force him not to.

We had caught it early on and I only needed a few weeks of chemotherapy. Luckily the news came at the end of Lando's season, he would be home and he wouldn't get distracted on track.

Chemo was worse than anyone had ever described to me, it felt like I'd been completely stripped away from my own body and I was miserable but I knew I had to get through it, I tried to keep a smile all the way through it, for Lando, but I knew he could see right through me and he had as many sleepless nights as I did through it all.

Finally the last week of Chemo, everything was better. Lando was certainly brighter than before although I could tell he was still worried, I could see it in his eyes. Every time I'd say I was tired, huff, breath abnormally, or complain about any sort of pain I could tell Lando's heart skipped a beat.

It annoyed me at first because he constantly hovered, but I never said anything and eventually, I understood. I knew that if I was in his shoes I'd be exactly the same and now I found myself wondering whether I'd wished for the right position to be in because even though I was in pain physically...Lando was in pain too, even more than I was...and it broke my heart to see him go through it.

Now I wanted the season to start more than ever so Lando could put his focus and worry somewhere else other than me, and even though I worried that he might have an accident because of all this distraction I knew how much he adored driving and it was what he needed.

The start of the season went well, not as good as we expected but it was good enough and the boys still had the rest of the season left.

I was with Lando in Monaco for the race, I was so excited about having him race here in Monaco since we'd recently bought our apartment here and we hadn't been able to enjoy it because of my treatments.

It seemed like things were finally getting back to normal, Lando and I were floating back up in the clouds again and we were finally finding our rhythm again...it was almost too good to be true.

I was home making dinner for Lando and me, he'd texted he was almost home and I'd decided to make some food for us. The whole day I'd noticed I was particularly exhausted and I kept running out of breath doing simple things. I had just set the table when all of a sudden it felt like my lungs had disappeared.

I dropped to the ground in pain gasping with all my power for some air. I thought I was going to die right there and then all until I heard the door open.

"Y/N!" I heard Lando's panicked scream. "LOVE!"

He pulled me up and turned me towards him, I clutched my chest. "I can't breathe." I wheezed.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!" He screamed out.

And eventually, for me, everything went black.

I woke up on an all too familiar surface. I was in a hospital bed, all sorts of tubes and needles attached to me. I looked for Lando and saw he was outside talking to the doctor, I could see him through the window.

Lando was facing my way while the doctor's back was towards me. I could tell it was a serious conversation and as much as I tried to deny it I knew what was happening. The cancer was back...and this time it wasn't going away.

I saw the anger and pain in Lando's eyes as the doctor spoke to him, he argued. I imagined he kept asking for a solution that simply didn't exist. Lando held his tears in all until he locked eyes with me. I gave him a look letting him know it was okay, I knew and that was enough for him to break down.

The doctor simply patted his shoulder before walking away. Lando walked to the room wiping his tears away as best as he could. Once he came in I could tell he didn't know what to say.

"It's back-" he spoke in barely above a whisper.

"I know baby." I opened my arms for him and he broke down in tears again. I cried with him, not because of my pain but because of his.

"How long?" I asked him after a few minutes.

Lando kept his head buried in my chest but I could feel him shaking his head.

"Baby how long?" I repeated the question.

His head finally rose up, his eyes were swollen and the tears just kept coming. "They're not sure, he says it could be 6 months or a week." Lando's voice broke at the last words before he buried his face in my chest once more except this time he wrapped his arms around me holding me tightly as if I could slip away at any second.

"I love you..." he wept "I'm so sorry." these last words shattered me.

"I'm sorry too...I love you." I whispered to him as I kissed the top of his head.

"Baby I'm scared-" he whispered into my chest.

I didn't exactly know how to comfort him, I let Lando cry it out as much as he needed to while I tried to remain strong, I found myself pondering over how I felt, I wasn't scared but I was in pain, and I was so miserable for leaving Lando like this, we definitely didn't have enough time together.

___

The next morning once Lando had come back into my room with a cup of coffee I decided it was time to talk about the next step. I knew deep down Lando still wanted to push for a cure that simply didn't exist but I also knew I didn't want to spend another second stuck in these hideous grey walls.

"Baby I want to get out here," I spoke. I was prepared for a discussion.

Lando simply looked down and gave a shaky sigh. "I know...and I'll get you out." his lip quivered and I could see tears brimming up in his eyes again.

"You're not going to ask me to stay?" I needed confirmation.

Lando got up and walked over to me, he scooted me over and sat down on the bed. "The day I met you-" he took a deep breath trying to keep himself together. "I made a promise to myself that I would do everything in my power to make you happy no matter what-" a tear slipped down his cheek. "I hope you know that if it was possible I'd take your place right now because seeing you like this..." another tear fell down his cheek. "it's been hell." I placed my hand on his cheek caressing it, I was crying too. "But I know you better than anyone and I know that you're not the kind of person to go out in a hospital room and I know you want to do as much as you can before you-" he stopped himself and his breath hitched. He couldn't say it.

"You're right." I quickly said not wanting him to finish because I could tell how hard it was for him. "I want to spend every second I have left with you, with the people I love, out of here." His lip quivered again as more tears left his eyes.

"Let's go then." Lando got back up starting to pack my things.

The news spread through the F1 world fairly quickly and I was flooded with pitiful messages all over my social media. Lando's friends from work who I'd grown close to didn't know what to say when I showed up in the paddock with them for the Monaco GP. Most of them simply gave me glances that spoke a thousand words.

Carlos, Alex, George, and Charles had all been incapable of holding their tears back as they saw me, giving me a hug that only existed for these situations.

After the Monaco GP, Lando and I found ourselves going to our favorite spots within Monaco, I was tired, so tired and I could feel death inching closer every day but I held on, I held on because...I knew he wasn't ready...I wasn't ready.

One morning I woke up to find Lando had planned a whole day for us and it all started at home. I'd walked to the living room to find Lando had prepared a very scrumptious breakfast. And he'd decorated our balcony with roses and candles.

We walked to it and there Lando got down on one knee, pulling out a small black box, which he opened to reveal a ring. My hands flew up to my mouth, I had always dreamed of this day but certainly not like this.

"My dearest y/n, I've imagined this very day over a thousand times in my head and I've come up with hundreds of speeches for this very occasion but it seems none of them would work for what we're going through now." His voice broke. "You have been the first and only woman in my life I have ever loved, you have been my best friend since day one, you've been my rock, my world, my everything and I simply do not want to spend another day not being able to call you my wife...so y/n, my love will you marry me?" I could tell he sped up the last bit to hold his tears back.

"Yes." I let him slip the ring on my finger before he rose up and we engulfed each other in a deep kiss.

"Propose...check" he pretended to hold a list and checked off the first point making me laugh.

"So what's next my fiancé," I asked him.

"Well, why don't we get going and I'll show you...my fiancé." he gave me another kiss.

Lando took me shopping for a bit before he drove us both back home. I'd noticed something else had been set up and once I walked into our room I found a wedding dress hanging in our closet. I gasped admiring the dress, it was simple but beautiful.

"Pietra helped me pick it out for you, we tried getting a more over-the-top one but apparently you can't just buy dresses like that overnight." he shrugged.

"It's beautiful." you admired the dress.

"Well you better get dressed, and I'll do the same. I'm going to get dressed somewhere else and when the time comes your driver will be here." he winked.

"Wait what?" I was confused.

"Just be ready in 2 hours...I love you." he gave me a quick peck on the lips before walking out. I got dressed and ready as best as I could with the time I had left, I did a simple hairstyle, partly because I was never good at doing my hair and partly because I barely had the strength to keep my arms up for longer than 3 seconds.

20 minutes before the 2 hours were up I heard a knock at the door. I opened it and Pietra, Alexandra, Lily, and Carmen were all standing there in matching dresses. You looked at them confused but on the brink of tears because of how beautiful they looked. "Did I die already?" I joked, and they laughed but I could tell the thought pained them.

"You look beautiful." P had to pat her eyes as she looked at me. I had naturally grown closest to her because of the brotherhood between Max and Lando.

"Thank you for doing this?" I had to hold my tears back too.

"Let's go." Alex and Lily extended their hands out for me and I took them walking out with them. We walked downstairs and Carlos was waiting in an Aston Martin DB6 Volante, that had been decorated with white flowers.

We arrive at the beach to find it prepared for a ceremony, all of Lando's friends from the paddock and his friends from Quadrant were there, as well as both our parents. I just about started crying there and then.

I got out of the car and Carlos stood there offering me his arm guiding me to one end of the carpet that had been rolled out. I saw Lando at the other end and tears quickly brimmed my eyes. As soon as he laid eyes on me it didn't take him half a second before he started crying too, Max Fewtrell quickly stepped in to hand him a handkerchief even though he was shedding a few tears too.

Without You by Harry Nilson started playing, and it was enough for me to let my tears run free. Carmen handed me a bouquet of roses and I began walking down the aisle, and for some reason, all my strength seemed to leave me right there and then.

I stumbled causing everyone to try to jump forward to grab me, My mom caught me, I could see the concern and the pain in her eyes but she also understood I needed to keep going. She wrapped her arm around my waist and helped me down the aisle.

And now it's only fair that I should let you know what you should know...I can't live, if living is without you...I can't live, I can't give anymore.

The song reached this part just as I reached him, he wrapped his arms around me, letting his forehead rest on mine.

"You look beautiful." he sniffled.

I placed my hand on his cheek before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Let's get married," I whispered to him.

The ceremony was short, Lando had wanted to arrive at the vows quickly and once we did he pulled out a sheet of paper, a tear was already rolling down his cheek.

"My best friend, my rock, my first love, my only love, my life, my world, my everything, these words don't come remotely close to describing what you are to me. I hope you know I consider myself the luckiest man on earth to have met you, to have loved you, to have cared for you, and to have married you-" he chocked up. "But although I thought it was impossible...as much as I feel the luckiest man...I feel the unluckiest too." he looked up to meet my eyes completely distraught. "It's unfair the world is taking you away from me when our love story has only just begun, all the dreams, all the plans, all the promises I have yet to fulfill to you will stay here while you will go." he gulped down, he had a knot in his throat. "I will cherish, love, and protect you for the rest of the time we have left together, I will continue bringing you flowers every weekend, I'll wake you up with kisses in the morning, I'll make you smile and laugh every day, and most importantly I will, with all my power, do my best to keep you happy." he finished.

I leaned forward giving him a long kiss on the cheek, now it was my turn and since this was all unexpected I hadn't prepared anything but already had enough to say.

"My Lando...you have made me the happiest woman on earth since the day I met you. You are the most loyal, hardworking, loving, fun man I have ever known and I consider myself the luckiest woman on earth to have fallen in love with you. And the luckiest woman for you will be the first, last, and only man I will ever love." Lando's lips quivered as I said those words, a sob escaping his lips. "I will forever be sorry that we didn't get more time together, that I couldn't give you what we had so long hoped for, a life, kids, to grow old together." I cleared my throat having to compose myself. "I wish there was more I could do to keep you happy in the time I have left my darling, I can't promise you much, but I promise that I will love you with every fiber of my body and soul until my last breath." I ended.

We were pronounced husband and wife and Lando pulled me in for a long deep kiss, mixed with both our tears.

It was the most perfect day of my life, surrounded by so much love from our families and friends, surrounded by so much happiness. Once the moon was out and the tide started rising things started getting packed up but Lando and I decided to take a walk along the beach.

We walked in silence, simply appreciating and cherishing each other's company. Once we were nearing the end of the beach I had to speak about what was on my mind.

"Lando." I started.

"No." he immediately replied.

"Baby-" I was going to keep going.

"I know what you're going to say and you can't ask me that-" he spoke softly but I could hear the anger and hurt in his voice.

"Lando listen to me please-" I stopped making Lando turn to me. He looked down and he was crying silent tears. "After I'm gone I need you to promise me you will keep going no matter how hard or painful it is...I want you to give your career 1000% percent like you always have...and someday whenever you're ready I want you to find someone who will make you happy, who will take care of you, who you will fall in love with and start a family with-" I spoke clearly, this was a thought I'd head since the first time I'd found out I was sick.

"No, I can't." He replied sniffling.

"Yes you can and you will," I assured him.

"How will I ever love someone as I love you..." he locked eyes with me.

"I'm not asking you to love someone as you love me. But you will learn to love again, I just want you to promise you will not shut yourself out, you need to keep going...for me." I walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, with one hand I wiped the tears from under his eyes.

He looked at me unsure and simply nodded, I knew he didn't mean it right now but it was as much reassurance as I would get from him for now.

"I'll never find anyone like you." He spoke once we'd started walking back.

"Maybe not, but you will find someone, there's plenty of women out there Lando, amazing, beautiful, incredibly talented women and I'm sure there's someone else for you." the mood had livened up a little bit.

____

LANDO POV II

The next morning I woke up...she didn't. She'd passed in her sleep, in my arms. A smile was still on her lips. I knew she was gone but I still tried to wake her, I still needed her to wake up.

I was inconsolable for months after her death, and my friends and my family had to help me back to my feet. Literally, because it was as though all my strength, all my will to live had died with her that day.

"She made me promise her that I would find someone else, that I'd fall in love again." I stifled a laugh remembering our walk at the beach.

"She sounds like an amazing woman." She commented. She had a very genuine smile.

"She was...I never met anyone like her." I sighed, that ache in my heart was still very present but bearable now.

_____________

Bonus A/N:

If it serves as any consolation I cried my eyes out writing this story. .

#f1 angst #angst #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #f1 x reader #changetyre #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1fic #f1

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 3 months ago

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Back home p.2

Hii guys I hope you enjoy part 2 of this story featuring a love triangle between Arthur and Charles Leclerc. If you've missed part 1 here it is.

As Arthur parks the car, the familiar Italian restaurant you used to frequent comes into view. The sight of it immediately warms your heart, bringing back a flood of memories. "Arthur, this is perfect! It's like you read my mind," you say, turning to him with a smile that reaches your eyes.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, his own smile genuine as he steps out of the car. He quickly circles around to your side, opening the door for you like the gentleman he's always been.

Inside, the cosy atmosphere of the restaurant feels like a comforting embrace. The soft lighting, the smell of freshly baked bread, and the quiet hum of conversation from other diners set the perfect backdrop for your reunion. As you begin to catch up over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, it feels like no time has passed at all.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur," you say, your voice filled with concern as you reach across the table to take his hand. "When you told me through FaceTime that Carla had broken up with you, I couldn’t believe it. It must have been so hard on you."

Arthur squeezes your hand gently, his expression softening as he looks into your eyes. The truth is, Carla didn't break up with him—he ended things with her the moment he knew you were coming back. After all these years, it had always been you. But he can't bring himself to say that, not yet.

"It was hard," he admits, his tone measured. "But I'm much better now, especially with you here." His words bring a smile to your face, one that he mirrors, feeling a sense of relief that you're finally back where you belong.

After lunch, the two of you drive to your apartment, chatting and laughing the entire way. The sun is setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the city as Arthur pulls up in front of your building. He helps you with your bags, insisting on carrying the heaviest ones despite your playful protests.

As you both reach the front door, the sound of a door opening catches your attention. You turn just in time to see Charles stepping out of the neighbouring apartment, his eyes widening in shock when he sees you.

"Y/N?" he exclaims, clearly taken aback. "I didn't know you were back!"

You smile, surprised but pleased to see him. "Charles! I just got in today. Arthur was kind enough to pick me up and help me with my bags."

Charles glances at Arthur, his expression unreadable. Arthur, on the other hand, remains calm, giving Charles a polite nod. He had deliberately kept your return a secret from Charles, knowing that his reaction might complicate things.

"Here, let me help," Charles offers, quickly stepping forward and grabbing one of the bags from Arthur's hand before you can protest.

"Thank you, Charles," you say gratefully. "Why don't you both come in for a bit? I could use the company while I unpack."

Arthur hesitates for a moment, but Charles is already nodding. "We'd be happy to help," Charles says, flashing you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

As you walk into your apartment, the familiar scent of home fills the air. You set your bags down by the door and turn to Charles with a curious smile. "So, are you still living with your mom next door?" you ask, remembering the days when you used to spend so much time at their place.

Charles pauses, a brief flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he answers. "No, I’m just visiting. I’ve been away for a race, but I thought I’d stop by to see her." He adds casually, "I’ll probably come by more often now." His tone remains light, but there's an underlying intention, now that he knows you're back he'll come around more often.

You smile at his words, completely unaware of the hidden meaning behind them. "That’s great! I’m sure she’s happy to have you around. How’s the season going with Ferrari?" you ask, genuinely interested in hearing about his racing career. You remember how passionate he was about it when you last saw him.

Charles’s face lights up as he starts talking about the season. He dives into the details of the latest races, the ups and downs with the car, and the challenges he’s faced on the track. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself caught up in his stories, asking questions and laughing at his anecdotes.

But as the conversation flows between you and Charles, Arthur’s mood shifts. He stands a little further back, his jaw tightening as he watches his brother monopolize your attention. Every laugh, every shared smile between you and Charles grates on him. He had been looking forward to this moment—just you and him, reconnecting after all these years—but now Charles is here, and it feels like his brother is stealing his time with you.

You, however, are blissfully unaware of the tension simmering between the brothers. To you, it feels like old times, catching up with people who mean a lot to you. You’re focused on the stories Charles is telling, completely missing the way Arthur’s hands clench into fists at his sides, or the way his eyes narrow slightly whenever Charles makes you laugh.

Eventually, Charles wraps up his latest story, and you glance over at Arthur, who hasn’t said much. You flash him a warm smile, hoping to bring him back into the conversation. "Arthur, you should tell Charles about the restaurant we went to earlier. It’s one of our old favourites."

Arthur forces a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, it was nice," he says simply, his tone clipped. He’s trying to be polite, but inside, he’s fuming. All he wanted was a quiet afternoon with you, but now he’s sharing it with the one person who always seemed to overshadow him.

Charles, not as oblivious as he might seem, catches the flash of envy in Arthur’s eyes. The subtle tightening of his brother’s jaw doesn't escape him, and it only spurs him on. "That sounds great," Charles says, his voice smooth as he locks eyes with you, a hint of challenge beneath his easy smile. "Maybe we can all go together sometime."

He lets the suggestion linger, his gaze lingering on you with just enough warmth to make his intentions clear, even as he fully registers Arthur’s growing tension. Sensing an opportunity, Charles shifts a little closer, his body language open and inviting as he continues the conversation, deliberately drawing you in further.

Arthur, feeling the shift in the air, fights to keep his composure. Every instinct screams at him to pull you closer, to remind Charles that you were always meant to be his. But he knows he can't afford to lose control, not now. If he's going to win you over, he needs to play it cool—even if it's killing him inside. So he forces a tight smile, holding back the words that threaten to spill out, determined not to let his brother see how deeply he’s affected.

But Charles, fully aware of the silent battle between them, isn't about to back down. And as you remain blissfully unaware of the tension swirling around you, the rivalry between the two brothers only intensifies, each of them silently vowing to win your heart.

Here's part 3

Tags: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc x female reader

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 months ago

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The Cracking of a Cold Heart

Summary: "Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad." – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Pairings: Dean x Reader (Reader's 1st person POV)

Warnings: None. Angst. Fluff.

Word Count: 2,804

A/N: So, while watching an episode of Criminal Minds the other day, the above quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was at the opening of the episode and it just struck me as very Dean. 😢 So, I had to write him something. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

“You're still awake?”

I asked the obvious question as I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table, slowly swirling amber liquid inside a crystal glass.

He nodded. “Yep. You too.”

“Yeah, I just came to get some water; it's so dry in this bunker, don't you think?”

Dean just grunted.

“Maybe we could add some humidifiers, or something.” I said awkwardly.

A shrug was my only answer.

Dean's rough, coldness still made me nervous around him sometimes, especially when he was in an overly grumpy or frosty mood like this. Even though we'd been working together for a year and roommates for at least half that time, I always felt like I just annoyed the hell out of him.

I decided I should just go and leave him alone with his whiskey. I poured my glass of water quickly and nodded towards him as I left.

“K, goodnight.”

“Yeah, night.”

I went back to my bedroom, just down the hall from Dean's, and sighed as I walked through the door. I really wanted things to be different. I wanted to make him like me.

Actually, what I really wanted was to make him love me.

But I'd settle for getting more than grunts and one word answers from him most of the time.

He’d always been gruff with me, never seemed to want me around. It was always Sam that let me know about hunts and invited me along. And every time I joined them, Sam had to fight his brother to let me leave the car when they got out to fight the bad guys.

He clearly thought I was a shitty hunter too.

So, he'd surprised me with how quickly he'd agreed to let me stay at the bunker when I told the boys about a demon I was dealing with that seemed particularly fixated on me. Sam convinced me it was safest there and Dean had agreed, though he was scowling the whole time. I couldn't help but think he only let me stay cause he didn't want me to die.

Not wanting me to die wasn't exactly friendship, but I supposed it was better than not caring one way or the other. So, I'd agreed to move in. The demon had been taken care of quickly with the boys help, but I stayed on.

I liked it there, and despite Dean's usual attitude towards me, I was happy in the bunker. Sam and Dean were funny and their dark, sarcastic humor, especially Dean's, often made me laugh in situations that would otherwise demand only horror.

It was also the safest I'd ever felt.

Because no matter how he felt about me, I knew beyond a doubt that Dean would always have my back and look out for me. That was just the kinda guy he was.

If only I could actually make him want me around.

An idea dawned on me as I climbed back into bed. Maybe that was why Dean wasn't warming up to me. Maybe he felt like I was overstaying my welcome there. It made sense; they'd invited me to stay while I was in danger, and then I just never left.

I was embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of it earlier. I would talk to the boys in the morning, I decided, and then fell into a restless sleep, thinking about where I'd end up when I left.

The next morning I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table in the exact same spot as the night before, his whiskey replaced with a cup of coffee.

“Morning.” I said shyly.

“Mmm.” Dean said around his cup as he took a sip.

I started to get things together to make my breakfast, looking over my shoulder. “I'm making oatmeal, did you want some?”

Dean shook his head. “N’ah. M’good.” He mumbled in his deep, craggy voice, staring at the table.

“Okay.” I said, sighing at his usual taciturn answer.

I put the water on to boil, salting it slightly, and then turned back to him just as he stood up and walked towards me. He drained his cup along the way and then reached past me to put it in the sink.

I made the mistake of taking a deep breath as he leaned close and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. God, why did he always have to smell so good? Why did he have to radiate warmth from his big, broad, flannel-covered chest, so that I desperately wanted to cuddle into him.

Completely unaffected, Dean turned to leave, but I put my hand out, touching his arm to stop him from going. I could feel an almost imperceptible flinch from him and I pulled my hand back, embarrassed that he was literally recoiling from my touch.

“Sorry.” I said as my cheeks got pink. “I was wanting to talk to you and Sam. Do you know when-”

Just then we could hear the screech of the bunker door as Sam returned from his morning run.

“Perfect timing.” I said with an awkward chuckle.

I left the kitchen, glad that Dean followed so I could talk to them both at once. We met Sam at the bottom of the stairs. He pulled out his ear bud, still breathing deeply.

“Hey.” He said with a small smile. He looked back and forth between me and Dean. “What's up?”

“Oh nothing, really.” I said, waving away the conversation's importance. “I just wanted to talk to you guys. I've…well, I was thinking about it and I realized, I mean now that there's no demon tracking me, no one threatening me, I should probably move out. You know?”

Sam scowled and shook his head. “We're hunters, we're always under threat. This is still the safest place for you. Why would you leave?”

I shrugged. “Well, I mean, I've been here a long time.” Sam scoffed at that, but I continued. “And I don't wanna…you know. I just think I should get out of your hair.”

“Don't be stupid. You're not in our hair. You should stay. Right, Dean?” He asked his older brother.

I looked back at Dean and he didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the ground. Then he shrugged and looked up. His face was the same cold, indifferent mask I'd seen him wear so many times before.

“If she wants to go, can't stop her.”

I smiled thinly, a small pinch of hurt starting in my chest.

“Yep,” I said in a cheerful tone. “Can't stop me.”

Sam started to speak, but I waved him away. “No. Seriously, I should get my own place. But I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here for so long.”

I stood on tiptoe to give Sam a kiss on the cheek and then tossed Dean a smile which was all I could manage before taking off, heading back to my bedroom so I could start looking for a new place to live.

About an hour later, as I was on my computer looking at apartments, there was a light knock on my door.

“Come in!” I called, expecting Sam's tall frame to walk through. Instead the door swung open and Dean was there.

I was shocked and I set my laptop down beside me on the bed, sitting up straight. Not once in the six months I'd lived there, had Dean knocked on my door; nor had he ever sought me out for anything.

“Hi.” I said lamely.

He nodded at me as he walked slowly into the room.

We were quiet for a moment before I cleared my throat. “Do you need something?”

Dean pushed out his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“I, uh…I wanted to…Sam said that he thought you were…” He rolled up onto the balls of his feet a couple of times as he paused.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow and Dean scowled, pulling his hands out of his pockets so he could cross his arms over his chest. The flannel pulled tight across his shoulders and biceps, thoroughly distracting me.

But then he spoke roughly and brought my attention back to him.

“Sammy thinks you're just leaving cause of me, so I need you to tell him it's not true.”

I wasn't surprised that Sam had read me so well, he wasn't easily fooled and I often thought he might know about my unrequited feelings for Dean.

But I shook my head. “No, of course not. It's not you. It's just time.”

Dean nodded and looked away. “K well, tell my dipshit little brother that will you, so he gets off my back?”

He sounded angry and for some reason his anger annoyed me. I was moving out, leaving, just so that he’d be happy, and he still wasn’t.

“Sure.” I attempted a teasing tone, but it didn’t really work. “I'll get right on it. Right after I find a new place to live.”

Dean scowled at me again, but this time I scowled back.

Something seemed to occur to Dean and though his voice was rough, he sounded slightly shocked when he spoke. “You are leaving because of me. Why?”

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck like that. “Oh, I don't know Dean. I can't imagine why I'd think you don't want me around when you're always so warm and welcoming. Always so eager to chat and hangout. I must just be crazy!”

Dean's frown etched deeper on his brow. “So you're leaving cause I'm not acting like your bestie? I'm not friendly enough for you?”

“I’m leaving because you hate me and obviously don’t want me around!” I shouted.

Silence rang out and my embarrassment filled it. I stood up from my bed and brushed past him, calling back to him as I left.

“Look, don't worry about it. I'll tell Sam it's not your fault so he leaves you alone.”

I left quickly, but I wasn't sure where to go. I couldn't stay in my bedroom with Dean there, but I didn't want to run into Sam either. So I ended up hiding in the gym, hoping neither of them would find me there.

But that plan didn't work very well, since minutes later Dean strode through the door. I growled slightly in frustration. All I wanted was to avoid further confrontation about this.

My voice was quiet, trying to discourage any more conversation. “Look, let's just leave it alone, okay? It's fine.”

“No it's not.” Dean responded.

I let out a little huff. “I’ll be gone in a few days, and everything can just go back to normal for you guys.”

Dean stared at me. “No it won’t. I don't want you to go.”

I scoffed and stood up from the bench. “Dean, enough. I told you it's fine. I'll make sure Sam doesn't blame you.”

I walked towards the door, aware I was going to have to get past him to leave. I gave him a wide berth but he sidestepped to intercept me.

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated quietly.

“Yeah, okay.” I said sarcastically. “If you say-”

In a blink Dean grabbed hold of my upper arms and yanked me forward so that I stumbled into him, gasping. His mouth crashed down on mine and I squealed in surprise.

He kissed me hard and quick, stroking up into the roof of my mouth with his wide tongue and then ripping himself away from me.

He was breathing hard as he stared down at me and spoke in a rough whisper.

“I don't want you to go.”

I just blinked at him, confusion overwhelming me. “What…what are you…what?”

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated for the fourth time. “But you should go. You should run long and far and never look back.” His voice sounded desperate.

I was so confused. “What are you talking about?”

He cupped my cheeks and kissed me again slowly, sweetly. I started to comprehend what was actually going on and I felt like my mind was going to explode. He left me reeling, my whole world turning upside down in disbelief as he pulled away from my lips to bury his face in my neck and kiss his words into my skin.

“God, Sweetheart, all I dream about is you; you're all I see when I close my eyes. But you can't stay; you can't love me back.”

I listened to his words as I dropped my head back so he had better access to all the sensitive spots on my neck.

“…you can't love me back…”

My voice was breathless and bemused as I spoke. “But you don’t love me…you can't love me…you don't even like me.”

Dean pulled back to look me in the eye and I was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly glassy. I shook my head again, though I didn't know why I was trying so hard to deny his words when they were what I'd wanted to hear for so long.

But I continued. “No, it’s not possible.” I said. “You don't like me. You're always angry at me, cold and distant. You think I'm a shitty hunter; I'm a burden and liability to have with you on cases.”

I was shaking my head. “You leave me in the car!”

Dean closed his eyes and spoke quietly. “I leave you in the car because when you're with us I'm completely distracted trying to make sure nothing happens to you; I can't do my job properly. And I'm cold and distant with you because…”

He opened his eyes slowly. “Because I know I can't have you.”

For the first time since I'd known him, I could easily read the emotion swirling in his deep, forest green eyes. And what I saw was just immense sadness.

He shook his head. “I can't have you.”

“What do you mean, you ‘can’t have me’? Says who?” I asked croakily, my throat constricted.

His jaw clenched and he looked away from me, over my shoulder. “Every single person that's been ripped out of my life since I was four years old. And the list is long, so very long. They're all telling me over and over that loving you is a selfish, impossible daydream. They're screaming at me from the grave, reminding me that trying to hold on to you is going to get you killed.”

He was staring past me as though he could actually see the ghosts that haunted him, could hear their words of warning.

“You know,” I said with a sniffle as my eyes and nose started watering, “I think that might be the most you've ever said to me at one time.”

Dean let out a puff of air that wasn't quite a laugh, and he shook his head again. “I don't want you to go, but you should go.”

I swallowed several times, the tears still flowing as I realized that all of this was really happening.

He loved me. Truly.

Finally I dashed away my tears and sniffled again. “Not a chance, Dean Winchester. You say you love me? Well, great, cause I love you too.”

He pulled in a stuttered breath and I could see the fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again and I took the chance to steal a kiss, pressing close to him and winding my arms around his neck.

He let out what I hoped was a groan of capitulation and wrapped his arms around my ribs, squeezing me to him tightly and deepening the kiss. His tongue swept through my mouth, exploring every inch, pulling soft moans from the back of my throat as I raked my nails through his hair and he shuddered against me.

After kissing me senseless for several minutes, he broke it off so we could both suck air into our starving lungs. He rested his forehead against mine and I could still hear the sadness in his voice and it made my heart ache.

“If you stay here with me, you can’t ever leave. Okay? Promise me if you stay, if we love each other out loud, promise me it'll be okay. That I won’t have to live without you, that you’ll always be safe.”

He touched my lips briefly with his, and then spoke against them, whispering. “I couldn’t take it. So promise. Even if it's a lie. Promise me anyway.”

“I promise.” I told him with my whole heart, and sealed it with a kiss.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 * @alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly * @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya * @arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

* @whimsyfinny * Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear * Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 * @waywardcheshire @libby99hb * Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 * @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester * @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester

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g1rld1ary · 4 months ago

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overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

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lets-just-daydream · 1 year ago

Text

i wanted more to astarion's storyline at cazadork's palace so here we are with my overactive imagination. also a hug for astarion because bro needs it

Summary:

It's almost time. Beyond the large ornate doors you'll find Cazador; you steel yourselves but a whisper of your name catches your attention from one of the prisoners behind the gate. An old flame.

(aka imagine you run into an old friend instead of astarion running into sebastian)

"No really, tell me more," Astarion said, barking out a laugh.

You hid behind your goblet of wine and laughed at his curiosity. "Have I really never told you about him?"

You had offhandedly mentioned an old flame of yours from a couple of years ago and this piqued Astarion's interest. The two of you sat side-by-side in front of the campfire, the rest of your company already retired to bed and as per usual, you and Astarion were still up.

"No, you haven't. So go on, tell me everything," Astarion said.

How to explain your strange relationship with Xavier. "Well, he's from a more or less noble family in Baldur's Gate and his father never really approved of our friendship. You know, with me being not at all noble."

Astarion kept quiet, sipping his wine as you explained.

"We spent a lot of time together and one day, I stopped seeing him as a friend and I fell in love with him, I think. He felt the same, too. He was walking me home one night after we'd been out at a tavern and when he saw me to my door, he kissed me."

You smiled and your cheeks flushed slightly at the memory. Astarion raised a brow and felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest at your expression. He couldn't help but wonder. Who was this man? Why wasn't he around anymore? Did you still love him?

You cleared your throat and continued. "After that night… I never saw him again. I assume his father found out about us and had him sent off and married to some noblewoman."

"What? He kissed you and then he disappeared?"

"Yes. I still don't know what he's up to now but I hope he's happy and out of his father's clutches."

Astarion put his wine down. You had fallen in love, kissed him and he had disappeared after the fact and you weren't cursing his name to the hells and back? Astarion figured you'd be at least a little bit slighted but you only wished the best for this Xavier.

"Do you still love him?"

You looked up at the pale elf and let out a laugh. "No, that was a long time ago. I still get a bit sad when I think back on it because we were so naïve and full of hope for the future," you said, a wistful smile on your lips.

Astarion knew this man could still be out there. You could still find him and return to him and at that thought he felt his chest burn. He didn't want you to find Xavier. Astarion wanted to be the one you thought of when you had these small wistful smiles on your face.

Sure, the sex you two had a couple times since meeting was great and Astarion had told you that his feelings were more than superficial at this point. But in an act of self-preservation he hadn't told you just how intense his feelings for you were. He figured you felt at least a little bit the same but this Xavier revelation threw him for a loop.

The elf played it off and held his hand out to you which you took. "Still, that must have been awful for you."

You nodded and didn't much feel like reminiscing on the past anymore. Instead, you decided to look to the journey ahead and what you were doing tomorrow. The real reason Astarion was still up tonight.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Astarion?" You asked as you stared into the flames of the campfire.

Astarion raised a brow at you in question.

You sighed. "Tomorrow. Cazador."

The vampire's gaze flicked to the fire then back to meet yours and he shot you a sure grin that you had learned to see right through a long time ago. "Of course I am. I've only been waiting 200 years for this."

You didn't have the heart to tell him off for the mask he slipped on. Normally you'd tell him that he didn't need to hide his true feelings from you, that you understood him and would never exploit his trust. And with time, he really had learned to trust you. You got to see a side of him he rarely ever showed and you were grateful. It made your heart beat for him in a way you had never experienced before.

But tonight, the tension and uncertainty in the air with how tomorrow would go down, you granted him this.

"I know you've been ready forever but, just know that if it gets too much at any point, I've got your back. We all do," you reassured him. "Just say the word."

Astarion gave you a rare, soft smile in appreciation and leaned over to drape his arm over your shoulders.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring," Astarion said, his voice serious. "I don't even know if it will happen how I've forever dreamed it would. Pissing on his ashes, enjoying his screams as I tear each digit and limb from his body." Astarion sighed. "Maybe I'll die before I even get to lay a finger on him."

Your heart dropped. "Perish the thought," you said sternly. You turned to face him fully and you rested your hands gently on his cheeks. "I will never let anyone hurt you. Especially not Cazador."

Astarion's lip curled into a slight smile at the way you spat his master's name. You seemed like you hated Cazador as much as Astarion did without ever meeting the man. Not that you needed to. Astarion had told you countless horror stories of his life under his master that made your blood boil and tears threaten to spill.

You stroked his cheek with your thumb. "I'm sorry he took so much from you, I feel awful for what he did to you over these 200 years. I can't even begin to imagine it. And I… I feel strange to say it but I'm glad I met you."

Astarion's brows shot up in surprise and you thought you had gone too far. Too intimate. You dropped your hands but he grabbed one and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly before letting out a sigh. "I'm glad I met you too, you're remarkable and I sometimes feel…" he trailed off. Now it was his turn to get flustered.

"What?" You coaxed.

"No, it's stupid," Astarion muttered as he looked at the ground. A very rare moment of insecurity.

You turned his face back to you and held his gaze, your eyes boring into his. "If you don't want to continue, that's alright."

"It's just…" He struggled. "I don't know. There's some moments, when we're talking like this or even in the middle of our romps, I feel as though I've lived this long because I was meant to meet you."

His words caused you to still and you felt your eyes water as he held your gaze, unsure of how you'd react to his candor.

"Oh, Astarion," you gasped as you leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug.

He held you in his arms and buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, committing it to memory. He didn't know what tomorrow held. He didn't know if he'd make it out alive. But he had you and that was enough for tonight.

You awoke in Astarion's tent the following morning, his arms wrapped around you tight and one of your hands in his hair. Before he had even properly risen you could feel the tension in his body. You can't imagine the stress he must have felt all night. Today was the culmination of 200 years of misery, pain and torture and you meant to end it.

You stroked your fingers through Astarion's hair and he stirred, his eyes opening and landing on you.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted, his voice deep from sleep. "What a sight to wake up to."

You smiled and stroked his soft hair, wishing you could just… lean forward and give him a soft, loving kiss.

When you moved to get up, Astarion held you firmly in place, his eyes never leaving yours. Words on his lips that he didn't know how to formulate. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours softly. Soft enough that you could escape if he had misread everything. But he hadn't. You leaned into the kiss and slid your hand down to cradle his head as you pulled back. He chased you and held you firmly in place as he deepened the kiss, his movements almost desperate as he rolled you over and landed on top of you.

"Astarion," you breathed.

This was happening. Intimacy. Outside of just having sex. Or maybe this was leading to that but this kiss just felt different.

"Gods, I love the way my name sounds coming from your lips," he whispered against your skin before ravishing your lips once again.

He slipped his tongue inside your mouth and you granted him entry. You were mere putty in his embrace and you moaned softly as he cradled your head in his hand, his movements gentle but with an undertone of urgency. Like this would be the last time he would get to kiss you. You could understand the sentiment and tangled your fingers in his soft hair, pulling him close and taking his bottom lip into your lips, causing him to let out a breathy moan.

You had to eventually pull away to catch your breath, your heaving chest, flushed cheeks and parted lips made quite the sight and Astarion wasn't ready to let you go just yet. He leaned down to claim your lips again.

"Astarion, are you awake yet?" Gale called from outside his tent.

Astarion let out an annoyed huff before looking down at you, hoping that his actions could speak where words failed him today. He gives you one last soft kiss. "We'll finish this later."

You could only nod back dumbly as he stood and offered you a hand. Astarion stepped out of his tent and shot Gale a glare, holding the flap open for you to leave.

"Ah," Gale said to you. "Sorry about that, didn't realise that you were also in there…"

You waved him off and moved to your tent where you dressed and readied yourself for today's stomach-churning quest.

Getting into and around the Szarr's palace was surprisingly easy. Astarion charmed the guards on the way in and you were met with little resistance when you entered.

"Being back here…" Astarion shivered. "Can we just get this over and done with as quickly as possible?"

You made eye contact with Gale and Shadowheart and nodded.

You searched the palace as quickly as possible while Astarion sadly explained his memories of the places you wandered. You wanted to stop and give him a hug at every discovery you made but you'd be here forever if you did. You painfully kept your hands to yourself until you found an ornate ring that looked rather important.

After some more exploring, you found an elevator that even Astarion didn't know existed. But as soon as you all stepped in and started descending, he became even more nervous. His body stiffened and his eyes became steely. You stepped closer to him and offered him your hand which he took with a hint of a smile.

You descended into one of the most ornate but cold hallways you'd ever seen. It was grandiose, but uncomfortable and with a sense of foreboding. You all knew Cazador was somewhere down here preparing for the unthinkable. None of you could say a word. No funny quips about the architecture or loot you found.

You slowly descended the stairs and stepped towards the doors in front of you. Astarion's grip on your hand tightened slightly and you rubbed your thumb against his skin, trying your best to soothe him. You didn't think anything could soothe him right now.

Your heart beat intensely in your chest and you felt like you could vomit. You can't imagine how Astarion is feeling right now, about to walk back into the clutches of his master, not knowing if he would prevail. No. He would prevail and you would help him.

Astarion glanced around and you opened the doors, holding your breath and peeking through. You didn't see Cazador, but you could hear murmurs. Voices. You cautiously stepped through and were met with two large cells either side of the hallway, all filled with dirty, ragged looking people.

Astarion dropped your hand and it flew to his mouth. His eyes widened as he looked at the people in the cells. He recognised these people. He knew these people. These were people he had killed years and years ago. Or so he thought. He approached a cell and looked in at the countless people he had brought to Cazador. People he thought his master would feed on and then discard. But no. There were hundreds of ragged spawn.

"I… I don't believe it." Astarion gasped. "I never knew… Cazador was doing this."

At hearing Astarion's voice, the spawn in the cells turned to look at you and it was clear that a few of them recognised him. But to your surprise you heard a soft call of your name. The voice was vaguely familiar and your heart dropped.

You turned to the source of the voice and found yourself face-to-face with a haggard, red-eyed Xavier.

"X-Xavier…?" You asked, shocked. You felt like you were about to faint. "What are you doing here?"

You stepped towards the cell and he mirrored you, gripping the bars with his dirty fingers.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "They didn't get you too, did they?"

You glanced at Astarion and if it were even possible, he was paler than usual.

"No, I'm– We're here to help you," you replied softly. You let your hand slide up the bar and come to meet Xavier's hand. Tears welled in your eyes and your voice became strained. "How long have you been here?"

Xavier's face scrunched as he tried to remember. "Hmm. I think… That night I walked you home and we kissed. I was so happy and unaware of anything around me. On my way home one of Cazador's spawn took me. It's all I've been able to think about. It's one of the only things I remember."

Your head spun and you felt like you could throw up. "No," you gasped. "T-Two years… You've been here all this time?"

The tears you'd tried to hold back fell all at once as you looked up at the man you once loved. "All this time," you sobbed. "I'd hoped your father had forced you off to marry some noblewoman."

Xavier smiled and rubbed your whitening hands where they still held the bars. "No. But even so, I would have come back to you. Somehow."

You stood back up and wiped the tears from your face. "I'm going to get you out of there, you're going to be okay."

Xavier nodded and looked over your companions gratefully until he landed on Astarion. "No…"

You sensed Astarion stiffen behind you and you hoped the dots you were staring to connect weren't true. You prayed, you hoped, you begged silently. But Xavier's next words pierced through you like an icy lance.

"You brought me here…"

You turned and looked at Astarion and he couldn't meet yours nor Xavier's gaze. He stared down at the floor and nodded, his eyes hooded and unreadable. He knew what he'd done. He knew what he'd caused you to lose. The words you spoke last night could only extend so far and now that you knew it was Astarion who had caused Xavier's disappearance. How could you forgive him? He couldn't bear to look you in the eye.

Shadowheart stepped forward and put a hand on your shoulder. "Come on, let's go deal with that monster and free your friend, okay?"

You nodded, your body moving in slow-motion as you approached the large ornate doors that held Astarion's fate on the other side.

It was a hard battle, made harder when you had to dodge through Cazador's minions to free Astarion from the binds of the ritual. The whole time you fought, you thought of the pain Xavier had gone through, the agony and torture Astarion had gone through and quickly enough, the pale elf had his master on his knees.

Astarion was right on the edge of having it all. Being an ascended vampire. He could walk in the sun after the tadpole had been dealt with, he wouldn't have to fear anyone again. He'd be a greater vampire than Cazador ever was. He asked for your help. But you know such great power never came free. There was always a cost.

What toll would sacrificing thousands of souls take on Astarion? Sweet, tortured Astarion who had been through hell and back and had made leaps and bounds to start becoming a better man. Someone you had grown to love. You couldn't bear to see him ripped apart like this.

But then again. You could help to give him this awesome power so few could ever be granted. You did want this for him, really, but your thoughts wandered back to Xavier and the countless other spawn who were waiting to be freed. Who you'd promised this to.

You looked back up at Astarion and shook your head. You imagined the life he could have. "Please don't do this, Astarion. Don't you want to live a life you can be proud of? I know you're better than him."

At your words, the fog in Astarion's mind cleared and he looked down at Cazador, blade in his hand. "You're right. I can be better than him." Astarion's gaze flicked down to a pleading Cazador. "But I'm not above enjoying this."

Before you knew what was happening, Astarion stabbed Cazador, hacking at him over and over until the former master was nothing but a lifeless, bloody corpse. You felt a fraction of the gratification Astarion must have felt as Cazador's screams filled the chamber before slowing into a gurgle and finally stopping. The pale elf dropped the blade and stepped back, a pained cry ripping through his throat. He'd done it. He was free.

He was free.

At this astronomical realisation, Astarion dropped to his knees and cried. He cried for the man he was when his heart still beat, cried for the centuries of torture he'd endured and cried for the life he'd had stolen from him. The culmination of 200 years of torture beyond belief and the aggressor was finally dead.

Astarion cried out again and you stepped toward him and knelt beside him. He suddenly felt warmth as you enveloped him in a hug and he held onto you, turning to face you and sobbing into your neck.

"My sweet Astarion," you whispered. "It's over now. I'm so proud of you."

At this, he sobbed harder for a moment and you ran your fingers through his hair and rubbed comforting circles into his scarred back. You didn't rush him, Gale and Shadowheart said nothing and let him take all the time he needed. After another moment, Astarion leaned back and caressed your face, his own face streaked with tears, blood and dirt. You saw how teary he was and the mixture of disbelief and hope for his future and your heart squeezed.

His brothers and sisters were freed from their magical shackles and one of his sisters approached, asking if it really was finally over.

"Yes."

Astarion then explained to his brothers and sisters what to do, where to take the freed spawn and wished them good luck. As they left, he stood and took Cazador's staff in hand, the following movements came to Astarion instinctively as he pressed it to the ground to free the thousands of trapped vampire spawn.

You smiled as you watched him. You truly were proud of Astarion, he would still be self-preserving and perhaps paranoid after you left but you hoped as time went by, he would be able to relax. Truly enjoy his freedom. You heard voices from the other side of the doors as Astarion's brothers and sisters greeted the other spawn. Your mind wandered to Xavier. At least he would have a chance at a new life, whatever that life may be.

"I think we're done here," Astarion said, tired. "Let's go."

You draped his arm over your shoulder and helped him up the stairs as Gale and Shadowheart led the way. They stopped at the top and shared a look before looking to you and stepping aside. The spawn had started filtering out but one remained near the cells. Xavier.

You approached him slowly, Astarion still hanging off your shoulders. Gale stepped forward and took Astarion off of you so you could have a moment. Astarion shot him a look but they lingered within earshot much to Gale's dismay.

"You did it. You freed us," Xavier smiled.

"Of course we did. I promised you that I would," you said. You swayed slightly on the spot and Xavier stepped forward, taking your hand in his.

"Will you come with me?" He breathed.

You almost weren't sure what he said but the way Astarion bristled and lowly hissed, you figured you'd heard correctly. Your blood ran cold and you were thrown back to 2 years ago, Xavier's kiss and the smile he gave before he left, promising to see you soon.

"Look, I," you didn't even know where to start. Your heart broke for him and the life you could have had together but you had closed that chapter long ago. You knew who your heart belonged to now, if the pale elf wanted it.

You tried to form into words your thoughts. How to explain that while Xavier's life was at a standstill, you continued living, loving and growing. Your heart ached as you tried to form the thought of, 'you know that vampire spawn who brought you here? Well I'm actually in love with him now, so…'

"Don't tell me it's him," Xavier gestured to Astarion who looked about ready to rip the former's head off. "He… he ruined my life, our lives."

You felt tears well in your eyes. You knew how hard this must be for him. He's thought of you nonstop for 2 years and you were about to tell him the man who ruined his life is the man you were choosing. But you knew Astarion. He wasn't that man anymore.

"Xavier, I can't go with you," you said. "I still have so much to do and… it is him." You sighed. This wasn't how you wanted to confess your love for the vampire spawn. You imagined it on a night you were alone and having a gentle moment. But here you were in front of your former love, your companions and the object of your affections all hanging onto your every word. "I know it's hard to come to terms with, Xavier… But it's always going to be Astarion."

You didn't see it but Astarion smiled and his face gained a bit of colour once again at your words. Xavier nodded and pursed his lips. He understood. He didn't like it, but he did understand and the finality in your voice told him that you weren't changing your mind.

"Well," Xavier said, lifting your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. "If you ever do change your mind I'll be somewhere in the Underdark. I'll wait for you forever."

"Please don't do that," you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Xavier smiled and gently dropped your hand, turning to follow his coven of vampires to start a new life.

You sighed and watched as he left, years welling in your eyes. No one moved an inch until Gale and Astarion shuffled over to you and you felt a hand slip around your waist.

"Darling," Astarion breathed.

You could form no words and now it was your turn to cry in Astarion's arms. His skin was still caked in blood and sweat but you didn't care. He held you and stroked your hair as you sobbed into the crook of his neck.

"H-he was down here all along," you sniffed. "And I didn't know. I could have looked for him or… I don't know."

Realistically you knew you could never have done anything but you still felt like Xavier's fate was somehow your fault. Well, it wasn't your fault. Really it was Cazador's fault… Astarion's fault.

"Why him?" You asked, pulling back and looking up at Astarion with watery eyes.

He knew this was coming, honestly. You'd want to know why. How could Astarion pluck someone so innocent from the shadows who he knew was having such a wonderful night? You knew Astarion watched his victims, picked them carefully. He'd told you so himself. So, of course you'd want answers. And he knew that you knew it wasn't personal - he was doing what Cazador told him to. But it didn't hurt you any less.

"Let's get out of this dreadful place, clean ourselves up and we can talk," Astarion offered.

You nodded silently and stepped away from him, leading your small group out of the castle and to the tavern the rest of your group organised upon entering the city.

No one spoke another word the whole trek from the castle to the tavern. The rest of your companions swarmed you at the door but fell short when they saw your grief-stricken face, Astarion's unreadable expression and Shadowheart and Gale's awkward side-eyes.

You stepped past everyone, gathered some of your clothes and retreated into the bathroom wordlessly. Astarion watched you the whole time, wondering if this was it. Was this the straw that would break the camel's back? Would you send him away? He supposed now that he was free, he didn't really have anyone to fear anymore, he might be able to make it alone.

Alone. Not a feeling he was used to anymore. Not a feeling he wanted to experience, especially if it meant losing you.

In the bathroom, you were pleased to see that the bath was already filled with warm water, so you stripped your dirty clothes off and entered the bath. A sigh escaped from your lips and you let the water rush over your body, your thoughts stilling for a moment before you let out a choked sob once again.

You rested your head behind you on the tub and stared at the ceiling. What possible explanation could Astarion even give you? Xavier was one person in thousands that had fallen victim to Cazador's plot, Astarion included. But it didn't hurt any less.

The door to the bathroom opened slightly and you saw white curly locks poke through the gap. "May I come in?" Astarion asked.

"Sure," you said, your voice monotone. Flat. Not something he was used to hearing from you.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, standing in front of it. His movements were careful, unsure. He stood by the door with his hands clasped together as his eyes shot from the floor, to you, to his surroundings and back to the floor.

He took a deep breath. "I know there's nothing I can say to make this better. I can't take it back and I can't fix it."

You said nothing, waiting for him to piece his thoughts together.

"I've told you what it was like, being Cazador's slave. I did what I had to, to survive and that included bringing people to him that didn't deserve it," Astarion stepped towards you and knelt by the bathside, finally meeting your eyes.

You'd seen true sadness in people's eyes before and you had caught Astarion in moments of sadness previously. But this was different. He wasn't just sad, he was sorrowful, and fearful. You almost reached out to smooth out the wrinkles on his brow but he continued talking.

"I know he meant a great deal to you and I… ruined so much. I'll do anything to show you I'm sorry. And if that includes…" Astarion trailed off and gulped before continuing. "If that includes me leaving this camp, then I will. I'll leave and that will be that."

"No!" You cried, leaping onto your knees and wrapping your arms around him. "No, I don't want you to leave, ever."

Water splashed onto the floor and dripped all over Astarion but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around your naked torso and held you close, squeezing slightly as if you might float away and disappear.

You craned your neck back and looked at him. "I am upset. And… It is sad to learn Xavier's fate, but I did mean what I said down in those dungeons," you whispered. "It's you. It's always been you and for as long as you want me, it's you I want."

You hardly knew what was happening before you felt Astarion press his lips to yours in a searing, passionate kiss. It took your breath away and he poured his love for you and fear of losing you into it, never had you ever been kissed like that and you couldn't help but return it. His lips captured yours and you felt his fangs nick your skin but you didn't care, you opened your mouth up to him and he didn't hesitate in slipping his tongue in, tilting your head back so he had complete control over you. It felt like if your bodies could meld together they would and your breathing turned heavy as you fought with not wanting to break the kiss but needing to pull away for air.

You eventually broke the kiss, your chest heaving as you gulped for air. You eyed the pale elf in front of you and looked like he was ready to pounce on you again. You let out a light chuckle and sat back in the bath again.

"Would you like to join me? I'll clean you up."

"My love," Astarion whispered as he stood, removing his clothes. "I'll join you anywhere."

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #red writes

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mirai-e-jump · 3 months ago

Text

TV Guide, 9/6/2024 Issue ft. Kamen Rider Gavv Cast Members (translation below)

Publication: August 28, 2024

Chinen Hidekazu x Hino Yusuke x Miyabe Nozomi

Chinen: Shouma, who I play, is a young man who loves eating. He actually comes from another world, and while he's friendly, there's an elusive side to him, so if you take your eyes off him, he might end up someplace else.

Hino: Karakida Hanto, who I play, is a freelance writer who's not afraid of taking risks. During the audition, they never gave me a detailed setup for the motifs or roles we'd be playing. The only thing I knew was that one character was a glutton, and that the other was a cool character. How was the audition for the female character?

Miyabe: I play Amane Sachika, a gyaru, but that wasn't disclosed to me during the audition…..

Chinen: Really?!

Miyabe: The impression I had was that she was a reliable person. Then, during the final audition, the Director told me, "Act alittle more like an aunt from Osaka."

Chinen & Hino: Ahahaha!

Miyabe: I wondered what kind of character she'd be, but I was surprised to find out that she was a gyaru.

Hino: I was together with Hide (Chinen) during the final part of the audition, and he was really interesting. We've got so many stories. Which one was your favorite?

Chinen: There's none in particular I like (laughs).

Miyabe: I wanna hear them! (laughs).

Hino: For example…there was "A," the gluttonous character, and "B," the cool character, and the Director would assign us by saying, "Alright, next, you play role A, and this guy will play role B," but when Hide was told, "Alright, you're next," he took role A without asking.

Miyabe: Eh! (laughs).

Hino: I couldn't help but say, "This kid's a genius."

Chinen: I cringe thinking about it now (laughs).

Hino: (laughs). Still, I thought, "These are the kind of kids who get chosen." I really felt that he was different from the other kids. I guess I've been drawn towards Shouma since then. That's why when I found out at costume fitting that Hide had been chosen to play the main character I thought, "Wow! That's great! I knew it'd be him."

Chinen: "I knew it" is what I also thought about Yusuke-kun. When I actually did a face to face performance with Yusuke-kun at the audition, I thought, "It'd be very easy to perform with this person"……

Hino: (said happily) Really?

Chinen: Yeah. That's why I wasn't surprised at all when we met at costume fitting. There were countless people left, but I knew that if I was chosen, the other person would likely be "him."

Hino: (totally embarrassed) Damn. No, that makes me happy! I think that the relationship between Shouma and Hanto will gradually deepen as the story progresses, so I hope you'll look forward to that part as well.

Miyabe: What I liked about the script was that even people who seemed cheerful were complex, and they grew as they struggled with themselves. I personally found these aspects encouraging, and I hope that it'll be conveyed to the viewers as well.

Chinen: When I saw the completed first episode, I thought it was really interesting, and I felt that I presented it with my whole heart. I hope that lots of people will watch it! _

Q: What sweets would you compare each other to?

Chinen: Miyabecchi is a marshmallow. She gives off the feeling of an older sister who watches out for us and embraces us with her softness. As for Yusuke-kun, he's fugashi.

Hino: Isn't that old fashioned?! Wait, there's only a two year gap between us! (laughs).

Chinen: He's well informed, and since he talks alot with his superiors, I chose fugashi since it's a veteran of the sweets world.

Miyabe: I think Hide's definitely a marshmallow.

Hino: Right, it's so him.

Miyabe: Isn't it? He's very soft, and I feel like he could absorb an impact (laughs). As for Yusuke-kun, he's dagashi.

Hino: I guess I'm that type after all (laughs).

Miyabe: It's because there's a familiarity to him (laughs).

Chinen: Ah~ I see.

Hino: I also think Hide's a marshmallow. He's fluffy, pure, and positive. His skin is also like a marshmallow (he pokes his cheeks). As for Miyabecchi…she's both girly and not girly at all, and is also quite mature. I wonder what she'd be.

Chinen: A high quality confection?

Hino: Right. Like a millefeuille! It feels like there are many sides to her, as it also has lots of layers.

Miyabe: Ah, I'm glad~ (laughs).

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bellarkeselection · 8 months ago

Note

Kacey Dutton x reader

Readers out with kayce she hears a familiar voice and knows it's her abusive ex so she starts to run but kayce follows her in the restroom she tells him kayce calms her down " stay with me "

Dutton's Are Better

We got off of the truck walking inside the local bar. I found a spot near the bar that had two empty bar stools available. The bartender came over and we each got a beer. Kayce shifted the black cowboy hat on his head looking at me. “Sorry this isn't nothing fancy for date night.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I've had a whole life of it.” Turning my head in the direction of the young Dutton.

Kayce sent me a smile back. “Yeah.”

Kayce and I had met the day after his sister came into a confrontation between her and my father Roarke Morris. The company he works for wants to build an apartment on the land that the reservation and the Dutton families own. I first believed it was a good idea to make some change but seeing it now it would be horrible to ruin this place. “So what is so different about this date night then any of our others.”

“Why do you want to know?” He asked me sitting his beer bottle down in front of him.

I take a drink from my bottle. “You told me this was going to be a little different than our others. I wanna know how?”

At first we thought we'd always be enemies for as long as my father wanted to help destroy his way of life. He showed me the ranch one day when I was curious and wished to see it for myself. From that evening on some spark was born that we couldn't deny. Kayce reaches down into his pocket while getting down from his stool. “I was thinking we did this back at the ranch. But here works too I guess if you don't need some big spectacle.”

“Kayce, I'm serious. You could propose to me with a lollipop ring for all I care and I'd be happy - wait, are you actually proposing?”

Sure enough before my eyes Kayce John Dutton lowered himself down on one knee. “Y/n, I love you. I didn't think I would give my heart to anyone else after my divorce and then you came around. I thought we were going to tear the other apart by how much we fought. But somehow we've made it past that. So will you marry me?”

“Yes. I will-”

“Y/n, is that you?” My entire body froze where I spun on my feet seeing a familiar guy walking up to me.

I gulped nervously, bolting away from Kayce only uttering one name I wished I could forget. “Dylan…” Spinning in my boots throwing my hair around in the air leaving the young Dutton on a knee in front of me.

“Y/n!” Kayce called my name getting up from the ground.

Rushing my way through the hallway to the bathroom I pushed through the door. Shutting it behind myself I plastered my body up against the door. “He can’t be here now…he said he would never live out here.”

“Y/n, hey are you okay?” I heard Kaycee’s voice on the other side.

I croaked feeling a tightness in my chest beginning to form. “I’m fine, Kayce. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Did I do something wrong. I should have listened to Beth when she said proposing was too soon for us.”

I snapped at him. “No that’s not it.”

“Then what has you freaked out?” Kayce asked with concern in his tone.

I slowly turned around on my feet staring at the door figuring he was standing on the other side of the wooden door. “I saw my ex Dylan say my name out there. I never thought I’d see that abusive asshole again in my life.” Threading my fingers into my hair I knotted it up, sniffing through tears I didn’t want him to hear me sobbing.

“Y/n, listen to me. Please let me in. I can hear you crying darling.” Kayce spoke to me and before I knew it he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He stands in front of me gently closing the door behind him so we had privacy and locked it too. “Y/n?…”

I parted my mouth open slightly, mumbling out his name until I broke down sobbing. “Kayce…”

“Woah hey hey. Come here, darling.” He paused, opening his arms out for me. I raced into his embrace clutching the fabric of his brown jacket in my finger tips.

I cried into his chest for the next few minutes until I lifted my head up and he wiped the fallen tears on my cheeks. “What if he’s here to try and win me back?”

“That won’t be happening, baby. I love you and I’m hoping that you feel the same and I can slip a ring on ya. That sends a clearer message than anything…but only if you want to.”

I squeezed his hands in mine realizing I never told him my answer. “Yes, yes I'll marry you Kayce.”

He smiled reaching inside his jacket drawing out a ring. The ring was simple with one jewel in the middle that I got to look at when he slid it on my finger. “Don't worry about Dylan if he tries to come over and touch you I'll set him straight.” Kayce holds out his freehand and grabbed the door to open it with his other hand.

“Thank you, Kayce.” I placed my hand in his and we walked back to our seats. The evening went fine till we tried to leave so Kayce did end up knocking my ex on the ground with a punch. Thankfully no charges were put on him since we later found out from the sheriff that my ex Dylan was plastered drunk.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#kayce dutton #kayce dutton x fem!reader #kayce dutton x reader #kayce dutton fanfic #luke grimes #yellowstone series #yellowstone masterlist #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone x reader #ask box is open for anything #yellowstone #wattpad fanfiction #requests open #comments really appreciated #yellowstone fanfic

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kiryoutann · 6 months ago

Text

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD, the world was a small, uncomplicated place. Mom and Dad don't have much money to travel abroad and their jobs only allow for little leisure, so the furthest vacation spot is a beach four hours' drive from your home city. School fills your days with lessons, friends, and the promise of weekend sleepovers. Every day, you stroll down the same street and greet your neighbors by name. Happiness was as close as your mother's freshly baked blueberry pie.

But now? When your world becomes wider and the reach of your hand becomes longer, it seems that happiness finds further hiding places. It grieves you that childhood was too brief; that bubble of safety from the world's woes and tribulations burst before you could even appreciate it.

The five-year-old you looked in the mirror, twisting your tiny feet to see the new shoes from all angles. Despite your repeated protests that you preferred the blue one, your mother purchased the bright pink one—she said it matched her favorite dress, and mother knows best, so you don't have to bother thinking about what you wanted. You shrugged to yourself; at least it's better than your old one.

Walking down the hall, you found your father. He's not in his usual play clothes – he's dressed for work, eyes crinkling as he smiles. "My little princess, you look so pretty!"

You beamed at his praise, chubby cheeks glowing. Nothing makes your heart sing like Dad's smile. You spin around like a princess in a fairy tale, showing off your shoes by stomping gently on the wooden surface.

“Mom bought it for me. It's not blue, but I like it!”

Dad chuckled. “Well, at least she spent my money on my favorite girl.”

Your mother emerged from the kitchen, your lunch bag in hand. “I saw them on sale at the store and just knew they'd be perfect for school,” she says proudly. Your father turned to you, opening his mouth to say something but, Mother interrupted. “We'd better get going or she'll be late for class.”

Dad sighs, mumbling a “yes, I know,” and kneels to sweep you into a tight hug. Your secret handshake is special – finger guns with “pew pew” noises, then knuckles bumping before more hugs and kisses. Your mother rolled her fondly eyes. “You two are always conspiring, sharing your little secrets. Now say goodbye, Daddy has to get to work."

You dislike it when Dad has to leave for work—in fact, you prefer him to Mom. But, Mom said he had to go or else there would be no food on the table for dinner; Besides, Daddy will definitely come back home and you can play with him again. You waved, forcing a smile to look as happy as possible.

"Bye, Daddy!"

"See you soon, princess." With a wave of his hand, your father answered and vanished behind the wooden door.

As Daddy's car pulls away from the curb, you hear Mom walking over to where the car keys are kept. You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, but that strange tightness in your chest persists—one that usually occurs when it's just Mom and you. She opened the door and told you to go to the car. You followed her in silence, eyes fixed on the pattern on your new pink shoes.

Sliding into the backseat, you peer out the window. The car engine started, and the radio played the same playlist. You watch the buildings and trees move backward. Mom glances at you in the rearview mirror and corrects you about your slumped posture, saying it's an ugly look for a young lady. You sat up straight in your chair and muttered an apology. Satisfied, your mother returned her attention to the road.

Secretly, you wish it could be your dad driving you to school instead. He's more fun, telling silly stories to make you laugh, and doesn't mind your messy crayons or clothes that don't match perfectly. Your mother always finds fault with anything that is unclean or out of place.

Looking up at the clear sky, you hope the sun will soon be above, indicating that lunchtime is approaching. Lunchtime means it's a few hours until sundown, and dinner will soon be served. You want to quickly see Dad and hear whatever stories he has during the day—that is, if he comes home. Lately, work has been keeping him from home more and more. However, if he's too busy, then tomorrow will do—Sunday sounds fun. He never missed a Sunday with you.

The weekend comes quickly, and you can barely contain your excitement when Dad takes you to the park Sunday morning. You walk hand in hand down the busy sidewalk, you chat a mile a minute about school. Laughter and barking greeted you both.

A fluffy golden retriever catches your eye, and you tug Daddy's hand, pointing excitedly. “Can we get a puppy, Daddy? Please? I'd take such good care of it, I promise!”

Your father chuckled, then shook his head. “You know how your mother feels about furry friends making a mess in the house.”

Disappointed, you scruff your shoes in the dirt. Dad never refuses what you want, no matter how ridiculous it is, unless it contradicts Mom. Unfortunately, the majority of what you desire is always something your mother despises. You continue walking.

Then he points – an ice cream cart! “Can I have one?” You ask, only to remember. "Mom said no sweets before dinner."

Dad crouches to meet your downcast eyes. “But Mom's not here. And you and me, we're partners in crime, right? I won't tell if you won't. What do you say we keep our sweet treat just between us?”

Gasping for joy, bubbles of laughter escaped your lips. "Okay!" Dad got you cones, of course, chocolate ones, and you swung your clasped hands and gawked at all the colorful, melted options. There's no better way to spend a Sunday than taking a stroll with Dad in the sunshine.

Monday night, however, was spent with you lying in bed with a fever ravaging your little body. Through the haze, you hear raised voices carrying down the hall—Mom scolding Dad for letting you have that ice cream.

“I can't believe you disobeyed me, Peter! One ice cream and now she's sick as a dog.” Her shrill voice pierces your pounding head.

“C'mon Anna, the girl's allowed a treat now and then.” Dad's calmer rumble does little to quell your mother's fury.

“If you'd listened to me from the start, this never would've happened. But you always think you know best.” Their arguing grows more heated, and you curl into a tight ball, wishing you could disappear.

Your mother's booming footsteps grew farther away as their conversations ceased. You open your eyes. When your door creaks and you turn around, the light from the corridor peeks through a tiny opening, and your father's form fills the frame. He sits next to you with a strained, contrite expression on his face.

“Hey, honey,” he started. “I'm sorry our secret got out. Mom's just worried about you being sick.”

You try to smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “S’okay, Daddy.” You said, and he stroked your damp hair tenderly; concern etched deep.

“Jesus, you're burning up. How about a story to take your mind off feeling bad?”

As if on cue, you remember – “The Nutcracker, please!”

With a kind grin, your father got up to get the cherished book. He takes a seat next to you, acts puzzled as he flips through a book and clears his throat.

"Now let's see, how did this story go again?" You chuckled at his attempt to divert your attention from your fever.

Soon later, he starts reading aloud with a low, comfortable voice. Sometimes, he stumbles over long words or loses his place, but each time he simply smiles sheepishly before continuing on. His favorite part is the dialogue, as he frequently adopts a different voice to portray different characters. You find yourself entranced, following each magical adventure.

For a little while, you can forget about the uncomfortable heat covering your body and Mom's angry shouts. In these quiet moments with your father, nothing else matters but his gentle company. In this once kinder world, he is still your father and you are still his favorite daughter—his one and only. Even if getting an ice cream is what makes you sick, you would do it all over again just to share this time with him.

By the story's end, your eyelids grow heavy enough, but not quite heavy. Dad chuckled, closing the book. “Still awake, little love? You must be feeling better.”

Your lips curve into a smile, glazed eyes glistening as flushed cheeks rise. “Mom signed me up for ballet classes,” you mumble sleepily.

A gasp escaped his lips, his forehead shot upwards emphasizing the already existing wrinkles. He looked at you with irises the same color as yours. You chuckle from his reaction, but your smile fades when his features swim and blur before you like figures in a dream. His gaze was always so kind, looks darker than you recall. Stubble shadows his jaw. When he smiles now, it doesn't reach as far.

He said your name—but it sounded foreign, it felt wrong. Why can't you see him clearly anymore?

“My little princess, you’re going to be the greatest ballet dancer the world has ever seen.” You wanted to answer, to hold this moment with him forever; but heavy eyelids won the battle and ultimately dragged you down. As the darkness enveloped you, Dad's hazy face was the last thing on your mind.

Thin curtains block the dreary morning light as you begin your daily ritual of waking up. The city has just woken up below; fog still hangs on the streets of London as you pad barefoot to the kitchen, the hardwood cold under your feet.

Filling the kettle, you set it to boil and retrieve your favorite chipped mug from the shelf. Your hand reaches for a packet of instant grounds—two scoops of it go inside, followed by a splash of cream. After lifting the whistling kettle, you poured in the boiling water slowly before taking a tea spoon to stir. The sound of the drizzle striking the glass was amplified by the apartment's quiet, and a small clink! sound is added each time your spoon meets your porcelain mug.

Lifting the mug, you breathe deep its comforting aroma before taking a careful sip, sighing as warmth spreads through your body. Coffee in hand, you turn to the task of packing your bag, put the essentials: water bottle, warm up shorts, warm up sweater, leg warmers, two pointe shoes, skirts, and a pouch containing deodorant, hair spray, comb, pins , and band aids.

Feeling quite satisfied, you finish your coffee and rinse the mug before leaving it to dry. You go shower and do your skincare routine. Pulling out your clothes drawer, you retrieve the leotard and tights, sliding the familiar fabrics over still-damp limbs.

Before the full-length mirror, you start to stretch. First position – feet turned out, heels together, arms graceful at your sides. Middle split – breathe in, reach for your toes, feel the burn in your thighs. Forward fold, palms flat on the floor, spine lengthening. After feeling warmed up for the day, you slowly got up and grabbed your bag towards the door.

The city was already starting to get busy, with the hustle and bustle of commuters making their way to work. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and brewing coffee wafting through the air. You quickened your footsteps on the cobblestone streets.

When the train door opens, you rush out, clutching your bag tight. Racing up the stairs, you burst through the exit and meet the cold air from the rain. You rubbed your hands against your arms in a desperate attempt to warm yourself. Overhead, heavy clouds hung low. You set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace.

But, as your building comes into view, you slow down—memories from last night fill your head. It was just here—under the awnings of that little café—that you first took shelter from the rain with him.

Simon. His name whispers through your mind like fog swirling around lampposts. If only the place was still open, maybe you would come in for a sweet warm drink instead of that crowded pub. Must've been nice, you think—it must've been nice to chat between sweets, enveloped in comfort that stretches time to be longer. Maybe he won't be so guarded and you'll get more than a name and a job—a promise to meet tomorrow at breakfast, for example.

Realizing you had completely stopped walking, you shook your head as embarrassment settled on your cheeks. Why do you dwell on such fantasies? Despite his kindness, Simon is just a stranger with just a name, one of many faces in this city that you will never meet again.

With a sigh, you continued your walk and disappeared behind the large doors of the opera.

The heavy doors creaked open as you pushed inside, warmth enveloping your cold body. Long hallway echoed with the conversation of the dancers who had arrived, sitting cross-legged on the cold floor while exchanging a joke or two with each other. You turn into the dressing room. Hanging up your coat, you saw a familiar sight—girls chatting and gossiping as they got ready.

You sat down at one of the dressers, placing your duffel bag at your feet. The sound of a zipper being opened sounded in the air; you bent down and reached for your pouch. Then, you pull out your trusty lip balm before applying it to your lips and gently massaging in the colorless formula.

Just then, a girl came and stopped at the door frame, panting. “It's up! The casting announcement is on the board!”

Squeals of excitement and joy were heard as they rushed to see who got what role. You hurriedly closed your balm, returned it to the pouch before getting up from the chair following the others. They had gathered at the end of the hall, jostling to see a piece of paper stuck to the board.

Air fills your lungs slowly when you inhale. It felt like your hammering heart was going to drop to your stomach as your legs started to swing. The pessimistic side of you says to turn around—why bother? It said tauntingly, you know which role you ended up having. But the hopeful side—the little girl still full of dreams stored somewhere in your ribs—insisted on peering and feeling.

As you stepped into the crowd of dancers, they turned around and some started smiling at you. One of them, Jasmine, approached you after calling your name.

“You did it! You got the role!”

As she hugged you, you scanned down the long list. Your eyes freeze on the main role. The Swan Queen. Beside it is printed in big black letters, your name. The Swan Queen.

You detach yourself from Jasmine's embrace, muttering excuses as you flee down the hall to the toilet. Step by step opening each stall to make sure the space is totally empty, you then lock yourself in one of them and sink into the closed toilet lid. Your mind is racing with a plethora of feelings as your eyes are fixed on the sections of tile plaque.

Joy, pride, disbelief... But underneath it all lies a hollow ache you can't place. Why? Isn't this what you've always wanted, to to become more than just another dancer in the group, to stop at precisely the thirteenth, and somehow take on the role of the Swan Queen—the one who shines the most on stage? Perhaps it's the self-conscious part of you, believing that the director must have made a mistake and mistook you for someone else.

Or perhaps this emptiness was once occupied by the never-ending quest for approval. In truth, that person no longer exists; you have no one left to tell this good news to. The chairs in the crowd were empty.

The cost of keeping everyone at a distance, indeed.

You clutch on your leotard, the fabric wrinkling in your tight grip. Gazing up at the ceiling and inhaling again, you make the decision to push up on unsteady legs and get out of the stall.

The hallway seems louder than before. Every footstep and whisper amplified in your mind, eyes tracking you as you pass—all judging, wondering. A flush creeps up your neck. You speed up your steps, hoping to quickly get out from under their scrutinizing gaze. However, no matter how hard you try, your ears cannot be deafened by the snatches of hushed conversation that follow.

“Can't believe they chose her; she's so soulless on stage.” Your throat constricts, and your hands are clenched into pale fists.

Claudine's piercing stare cuts through the crowd as your eyes meet. She rakes her gaze over you slowly, as if trying to decipher what the director found so special. You lowered your eyes, hurriedly passing to the safety of the empty dressing room. Grabbing your bag with shaky hands, you flee once more to the practice studio, desperate to lose their judgment.

The studio door's knob turned, and as you pushed slightly to get a glimpse inside, the hinges creaked. With the coach and pianist, the director was engaged in a serious discussion. He gives you a quick glance and gestures for you to enter.

“(Y/N), it's so wonderful to have you here. I know this role is in excellent hands with you.” His kind words did little to calm your fraying nerves, but you took the crumbs of his appreciation.

More dancers arrive behind you, their excited chatter filling the hallway. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you catch sight of familiar faces: Jasmine, Sophia, Eloise, long-faced Marie—surely she's not used to not being the main star, and you feel like you've taken her place even though you're not good enough. You swallow hard and turn back, placing your duffel bag in the studio's corner.

The director clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. “Bravo to each of you for earning these coveted roles through your talent and dedication. Now, let us begin our work to bring Tchaikovsky's magic to life for our audiences. Places everyone, we'll start from the beginning!”

Your shoulders rise as you inhale a deep breath. Swan Lake. First time becoming the Swan Queen.

Does the director know that his gaze carries a heavy weight? The more sighs he lets out, the more you suffocate, as if the air has been tainted with butane and you've reached the vertigo stage. His eyes followed your every move, but it was his lips that showed dissatisfaction. Something isn't up to his expectations, and it's not the techniques and poses your ballet teacher has been drilling you in since childhood. You are deficient in something that you are unaware of.

The director calls to a halt, praising and giving notes to the other dancers before turning to you. You brace yourself with a deep breath.

“Your technique is truly flawless as always. But I wonder, could you try injecting just a bit more... feeling?” he began. “You portray her innocence and loneliness beautifully. But what is missing is the glimmer of hope she finds in Prince Siegfried's promise to free her.”

Hope? The girl had lived most of her life as a swan; what silly hope did she still have and seek in a man? As if their hearts have the ability to keep a promise. Swan Lake wouldn't be Swan Lake without the prince declaring his love for another woman and Odette jumping off the cliff from the realization that her dreams had ended in vain. Is it not more fitting that she feels only emptiness—the result of years of loneliness leeching any warmth or longing from her soul?

You tell yourself that, if not merely to cover up your poor performance. The director is many years older than you and has directed and seen many ballets throughout his life. If anyone knows how to bring a character to life, it's him.

It begs the question, though, of whether a cursed being like her seems capable of wishing for miracles or fairy tale things like love. Can a withered flower, beaten down by countless rains, still hold the memory of the sun in its crumpled petals?

“I'll do better.” You said.

The director gives a pitying smile; you felt small beneath him. “Good.” Then raising his voice, “Well done everyone today. Let's call it a day and start again tomorrow fresh!"

Snatching up your bag, you rush towards the exit before anyone can speak to you. With your head down, you push through the doors and into the night. Breathing in trembling, you let your legs carry you down the well-known pavement. The sights and sounds of bustling London blur around you.

You shouldn't have believed that girl. You shouldn't have given that dreamy girl the chance to lead a version of herself that has grown far beyond her—because you know her judgment means nothing, just a limited view of the world through rose-tinted glasses. She is that way because a liar once said that she would make a great ballet dancer, and she stuck to it like a devoted disciple to the words of her God.

It was stupid, perhaps a misplaced self-confidence. With your every step, the negative voices in your mind grow louder, jeering relentlessly at your foolishness. This was a mistake from the start. As if you could ever do Odette justice. Best tell him you're stepping down; let Claudine or Marie have the role they deserve. Your heart is heavy, weighing you down to the floor.

You almost pass by without noticing, but there, through the haze, glows the warm orange light of that pub. The one Simon and you ducked into that stormy night, where you shared pleasantries over pints of bitter. As you watch the door open and close for the newcomers, you halt.

You're not sure which Satan incited. But when you push open the pub door, warmth immediately envelopes you, scents of ale and smoke mingling with the bustle of chatter. A lively folk tune played on the sound system as patrons laughed together in the booths and around the bar. Steeling yourself, you approached awkwardly.

The bartender looked up, his eyes widening briefly before his lips curved into a flirtatious smile. "Well hello gorgeous, what can I get for ya?"

Warmth floods your cheeks and you shift from foot to foot. “Um, do you have anything non-alcoholic?” You said, awkward voice breaking easily. Why did you come in here again?

He raised an eyebrow but maintained a friendly smile. “Sure do, love. Give me a mo.” As he turns around to prepare your drink, you glance around helplessly.

Faces blurred in the dim light—all engaged in lively conversation. You sit alone at the bar like you're waiting for a friend while watching everyone else meet theirs. A feeling of loneliness overtakes you – what were you thinking coming here?

Bartender returns, sliding your drink across with a wink. “On the house. Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?”

Giving a mumbled thanks, you take a sip acting busy. As you sit alone nursing your drink, you believe you understand why. Deep down, beneath all the self-doubt and shame, is a glimmer of truth you loath to admit – you desperately seek companionship, if only for a moment.

And the only person close enough for you to consider a friend is a masked stranger you will never see again. That's pathetic; you're pathetic. Clinging to the irrational part to watch Simon walk through that door. He claims he's a regular here—his “I'm here often enough” seems to make you hold out for the chance of running into him again.

Twenty minutes pass in a haze, and Simon still hasn't appeared. Maybe he's not a regular after all. You finally glance at your phone—it's time for your usual subway.

Signaling the bartender, you place some cash on the bar as a tip. “Thanks again,” you murmur, then gather your coat and slip out into the chill night.

“Sorry,” you mumble when you bump into a figure about to enter.

“No worries, love,” a British-accented voice replies smoothly, and you glance up, thinking it's someone. A stranger—tall, broad shoulders, but not Simon. Perfectly coiffed hair and skin as smooth as porcelain. He shot a charming smile at you. “Off somewhere?”

Instantly on alert, your eyes start looking for a way to get away from him. “Just heading home, thanks.”

Making a sidestep, his arms extended to block your path. Your mind's alarm goes off. His gaze burned as it swept over you, lingering in places it had no right to be before he licked his lips. You felt a cold sweat run down your back.

“Don't be like that, darling. I just want to chat. Buy you a drink, maybe?” His smile grows, and the sick glint in his eyes shows how much it amuses him to see you trembling.

“Sorry, I—”

“I believe the lady said she’s not interested, mate.”

A gruff, familiar voice cuts through the haze. You whip your head around to see Simon standing there. His face is half obscured by his black mask, but you'll recognize that steel gaze everywhere. For some reason, your heart gradually calms down in your ribs.

“And who the fuck are you?” the other asked angrily, puffing up his chest. A daring move, you think. His too-tight t-shirt reveals his consistent gym muscles, but if Simon is his opponent, you can be sure he's no match.

“Just not a fan of creeps harassing women. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off before I make you.” Simon threatened.

The color drains from the guy's face when he sees Simon's seriousness. He walked away, swallowing his wounded pride with a huff. The pressure recedes from your rigid frame as you watch the figure leave before turning to Simon.

"You hurt at all?" he asked, doing a scan of you to check for himself.

You shake your head, then manage a shaky “No, I'm fine. Thank you.”

Simon looked at you, then looked behind you towards the pub. When he turns back to you, his eyebrows raise slightly questioningly.

“You were in there your own?”

The warmth from his question traveled across your cheeks, striking a contrast with the night breeze. You didn't dare to meet his eyes, choosing to settle on your shoes instead. Despite having come here just to meet him, feeling under his judgment is like getting a shot of adrenaline into your legs—so much so that you want to run to get away from him.

“I, um…” Words fail you beneath your embarrassment.

How pathetic you must look—a lone girl nursing a drink with no companions, seeking solace in other people's conversations. You can't, however, just reveal your total lack of friends. Your mind searched frantically for a convincing reason.

“Just… needed to clear my head after a long day of practice. Thought the atmosphere might help.”

Even to your own ears, the lie falls flat. You didn't know if Simon noticed. Though you're pitiful, he doesn't furrow his brow or look at you that way. He asks no questions at all, not even about poor attempts at lying, and he doesn't press people on matters they would rather leave unsaid. Simon doesn't pry; you think that's his good quality.

Simon looked up at the dark sky instead. “Getting late, this is. I'll walk you to the tube.” He nodded, gesturing down the empty sidewalk.

Thick clouds rolled low. The two of you make your way towards the subway station, passing one by one the buildings constructed from buff-colored brick. Simon is striding beside you, his long legs eating up the pavement with ease. Secretly, you steal glances at his broad figure against the lamplight. Your eyes follow the line of his shoulders under his leather jacket—the way it molds into muscular arms.

This is different from your first meeting. There's no need now for nervous small talk to fill the quiet; you're not much of a talker, and Simon also finds more peace in silence.

Simon's presence feels more companionable than awkward. Warmth bloomed in your ribs as your lips curled into a small smile before it disappeared again. You both walk in wordless sync before you become bored and break it.

“I didn't really expect to see you again.”

Simon glances down at you, his brows quirking questioningly. Did you sound ungrateful? You rush to explain. “I mean, it was all like a chance thing, running into each other like that. Figured it was just... a one-time thing, you know?”

He thought about your words for a moment. “Funny how things work out sometimes.”

Up ahead, the glow of the station sign begins to appear. You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly slowed down your pace, but you made sure it was unnoticeable. Your journey's end draws near, but you hope this togetherness can last longer.

Summoning your courage, you try, “Were you meeting someone at the pub? Before…” Your words trail off, but he seems to understand.

“Nah, wasn't meeting anyone,” he said casually. “Just fancied a drink, is all.”

You nodded, acting satisfied, but actually feeling a little disappointed. It seemed that he was in fact a frequent visitor, coming and going on any given evening; it was just for a drink, like before he met you. Meanwhile, you cling to the prospect of another chance to meet like a lifeline. As the station came into full view, your eyes fell, brewing more embarrassment and desperation in your stomach. Maybe he has someone waiting for him. What were you thinking, letting yourself hope?

Yet, though small, the rebellious part of you refuses to let this end.

"What do you usually drink?" You ask again, grasping for any excuse to extend your time, no matter how little.

“Bourbon,” he replied gruffly. “Kentucky, usually. Good drop.”

Twenty-three years old, but this discussion is still foreign territory for you. Your fingers can count the few times you've tasted alcohol—each occasion marred by your mother's voice in your head, warning of its evil. It's rather comical, considering how it once became her loyal companion for several years—that damned thing became the only thing she looked for after coming home from work and gulping it down flat on the living room sofa to dull her broken heart. You cannot yet judge her as a hypocrite or someone who has learned from her mistakes. As if a single glass would transform you into some fallen woman. It was always all or nothing with her; there was no concept of moderation.

Such inhibitions are not for Simon, though. A man of the world who has seen and done things that you could scarcely fathom. For him, a pint after work is as regular as taking a breath.

All too soon, you reach the stairs leading down to the station entrance. Your feet stopped when he did. Turning your body to face him, you gathered your courage and looked up. His eyes meet yours, and you see him about to open his mouth behind his surgical mask. No, you can't bear to hear that final goodbye.

“Do you..” You started. “Like anything else to drink, besides bourbon? I probably have… something at my place.”

There was a change in his gaze before he returned to his usual guarded gaze. Your cheeks screamed on fire at the implication that you didn't quite mean to make. Such an invitation should be the last thing a girl like you offers to a stranger she's only met twice, particularly at this hour. To your defense, though, he's now an acquaintance, and desperation influences people to do the unthinkable. The nights are getting colder and your lonely apartment won't do.

It seems that your question surprised him too. Simon scanned your face carefully before releasing the tension.

“Tea.”

When Simon replies with a single gruff word, you can't help but smile, ducking your head to hide it behind loose tendrils of hair. Lifting your eyes once more, you find him staring at you. Two people engaging in a silent game of deciphering, each trying to unravel the secrets of the other piece by piece.

“Tea,” you repeat softly, as if savoring the taste of the word.

Fingers twisting together, you steel your nerves before turning toward the stairs to lead the way down. You hear his footsteps fall solidly behind you. Not daring to look back out of fear that this dream will shatter, you mentally urge your feet faster.

At the platform's edge, mist curls between the rails like grasping fingers. Simon was standing right next to you. Slowly, the lights of an approaching train emerge, growing brighter by the second. With a weary hiss, the sliding doors open in front of you in welcome. You turned to Simon, then stepped aboard, and he followed, as you already knew.

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icarusredwings · 19 days ago

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Thinking about Wade is having a stay-in date night with Ness, and this means the kitchen light is traded for a colored one, candles, half burnt pasta, cheap wine, and Careless Whisper blasting throughout the appartment complex.

He starts off with some cringy dance while V is up on the counter, rolling her eyes and smiling, but she can't help but feel like there was something different about Wade. Yeah, she knew this dance. She knew the routine of his 'serenade' and his littlw two step slow dance he had going on, making backup sound effects for Mr. George Micheal and eventually grabs the pasta spoon, singing into it.

This is not new, but.. something was. She couldn't put her finger on it but she knew her boyfriend. She knew him well enough to become engaged to him, break up with him, and start dating again.

It was like he was glowing.

But why?

"Tonight the music seems so loud! I wish that we could lose this crowd-" His non existsnt eyebrows wiggle, and Vanessa can't help but to almost spit out her wine.

"Maybe it's better this way, We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say!" He shouts into the pasta sauce covered spoon, leaning into her a bit as she rolls her eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. She knew what Wade wanted. He wanted to "earn" her with his performance.

God.. he really is her peacock, wasn't he?

"We could have been so good together! We could have lived this dance forever!" Taking her arm, He pulls her waist closer to him, connecting their foreheads with those pretty heart eyes of his beaming into hers with such love struck gleam.

"But now who's gonna dance with me? Please staaaayy~" He sings loudly, letting her go enough for V to notice that Logan is now staring too, the same lop sided love struck small smile on his face.

"And I'm never gonna dance again- Guilty feet have got no rhythm!!" He says, dropping onto his knees and arching his back, using her hand to keep his balance.

"You didn't have any to begin with!"

She hears, looking up to see Logan smirking as Wade jumps to his feet. "ExcUSE me!? My bad, not everything is a waltz, old man! Like seriously, when's the last time you could do anything but a simple one two three? Lincoln's wedding!?" He calls over the counter and Logan grunts, his joints popping as he gets off the couch.

Wades eyes widden with dangerous excitment as he turns to her. "Oh now, im in for it!"

"Damn right. I can do more then Waltz, you know."

"Oh, yeah!? Like what? Square dance?!"

"Whats wrong with square dancing!?"

Then it clicked.

Him.

That's what was different about Wade.

Logan had changed him. Unconsiously, for the better. He was so... Happy. He was like a missing puzzle piece to complete Wades purpose of being, mirroring what Wade needed, even if that meant insulting his dancing skills mid date.

Grinning widely like a moron with a crush, he changes the song- Wade was serious. He would never dance with anyone else except V to that song ever again- Pushing next on their shuffle only for Madonna to come on.

Squealing, he waves his hands, shoving the pasta spoon back into the pot then took Logan's hands. "Can you swing?"

"S-swing?- Woah!! Hey!"

"You wanted to dance so were dancing!"

"I didn't say that!"

As she listens to them bicker, she laughs as she watches Logan awkwardly step on Wade's foot multiple times.

"Ouch!! Hey! I'm regenerative, not indestructible! You're like 400 pounds!!" He teases, and the blush on Logan's face is something she wants to take a picture of, watching as he tries to teach Wade how to 'properly dance', spinning him around, holding his wasit and dipping him at certian parts.

"Ahh!! Don't drop me!!"

"I'm not going to drop you, Stop screaming!"

"Ness!! He's gonna drop me!"

She giggles, giving Logan a playful finger wag. "Hey do you mind? He needs all the braincells he can keep!"

"Yeah! Cancer already ate half of them!"

"Oh, sssuurree, just the cancer, definitely not how many times youve made me shove my-"

"Lo-Lo!!! Not in front of Nessy!!" He whines, being spun again.

"Oh shut up, i'm not going to embarrass you infront of Vanessa-" he turned to her, whispering "I so am"

"I HEARD THAT!"

"What? It's not my fault your game is weak." Logan teases him, giving her a playful nod, putting his hand out for her to take "Ma'am."

She laughs, hearing Wade suddenly complain that he wasn't supposed to be stealing his date.

"Maybe she wants to dance with a real man-" Logan coes, gently taking V and spinning her too... Vanessa could see why Wade liked him.. he was quite strong. And a gentleman.

"My gender blindness has NOTHING to do with this!" Wade whined in a high-pitched tantrum like sound, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him instead.

Oh great. And now they were fighting over her.

Gosh... Maybe she has two Peacocks...

#Poolveriness #poolness #copypool #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #vanessa carlysle #deadpool #deadpool 1 #deadpool 3 #wolverine #deadclaws #genderfluid wade wilson #SoundCloud

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago

Text

broken trust. [epilogue] l Joel Miller

Summary: you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: +18, angst, smut, swearing, crying, unprotected sex (don't do that), unplanned pregnancy

A/N: this is the last chapter of this story. i wanted to thank you all for this journey. i didn't think i'd be able to finish it… but it was nice to write for these couple of wonderful people who always left some mark. you're amazing! i apologize for all the mistakes and shortcomings. I hope you will spend a few nice minutes reading my scribbles. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa 🖤

[PART 5]

"Now you slowly release the clutch and press the accelerator. Slowly... Slowly..." the whole car shook several times "Ellie, calm down... It's nothing. You just have to..."

The car shook again and the engine stalled. A wailing groan escaped the girl's throat as she let go of the steering wheel.

"I'll never learn this." she sighed.

"Don't say that. You're doing really well."

"Really well?!" she repeated after you, and you wanted to laugh seeing her face "This fucking car has probably turned off a thousand times!"

"So what. Maybe if it turns off a few more times, you'll finally learn?" you lightly nudged her in the shoulder "Ellie, it's not the end of the world. Let's try again."

You had been sitting in this car for almost two hours. Ellie was getting angry the whole time, but she didn't give up. Finally, after a few more failures, the car slowly moved forward.

"Yes! Fuck, I did it! I did it!" she shouted in delight "See that? See that?"

"I see! You're doing great." you laughed "Now try to slow down and stop. Slowly... Ellie, don't kill Joel. Please!"

The car stopped suddenly and the girl turned off the engine. Happiness was written all over her face.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" she asked excitedly.

"No problem." you replied and turned around as the door on your side opened "Oh! Hi, Joel. Are you back already?"

"Yeah, just a second ago." he glanced at you carefully and then his gaze moved to Ellie "You were supposed to watch her." he said seriously, although you could see the smile hiding in his eyes "Admit it, it was Y/N who talked you into taking her out of town."

"At this speed we'd make it to the gate in a week." the girl replied "And I keep an eye on her all the time! She's right next to me."

"I only left you for two days..." Joel sighed, but now he smiled "How are you feeling?"

"Good. Really!" you laughed seeing his look "I can't stay home all the time."

"But you should. Come on, we need to change your bandage."

He offered you his hand to help you out of the car and slowly led you home.

Doc didn't want you to leave the clinic too soon, but you insisted. It wasn't until Joel suggested that you could live with him and Ellie for a while that they could keep an eye on you. You knew that Ellie felt guilty about what had happened, and Joel would feel calmer if you were close. So you agreed.

You moved into a small bedroom upstairs and within two weeks you really got into the place. Joel and Ellie didn't let you do anything for the first few days, and at least one of them was always home with you.

With some difficulty you convinced Joel that he didn't have to carry you up the stairs, you'd just walk really slowly. Then Ellie said that his old spine wouldn't last that long anyway, and you tried not to burst out laughing.

What was between you and Joel had calmed down too. You both felt like you were living in your own little bubble and you were fine with that. You saw him smile more often, and it melted your heart every time.

How could you know that his heart grew when he could go back home, where he knew you were. That was enough for him.

"You should take better care of yourself." he stated as you laid down on the bed and pulled up your shirt. "You still have stitches."

"I feel really good, Joel. You have no reason to worry." you replied, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom to wash his hands, and then returned to you with a small box prepared by Doc. "How was your patrol?"

"Quite normal. A bit boring." He replied, pulling up a stool and sitting next to the bed. "Did Ellie finally manage to start the engine?"

"Yeah, but she shook my soul out of me." You laughed. "She really wants to impress you, you know."

"She doesn't have to do that. But I'm glad you two get along so well."

His warm fingers slowly removed the dressing from your body and you both glanced at the healing spot. The skin was still slightly red, but the wound was fresh, so it didn't worry you.

"You were bleeding a little." Joel noticed, showing you a few spots of blood on the dressing.

"The stitches are pulling. I can't wait for Doc to take them out."

"Maybe you should have them a little longer?" he suggested, washing your wound and gently drying it with a clean towel.

"I suppose you think I should stay in bed until Ellie is of age." you stated and he smiled as he put a fresh bandage on you "I don't know what else I should do to make you believe that I'm out of danger.”

"Just be reasonable."

"Reasonable is my middle name."

Maybe you shouldn't have, but you really enjoyed your moments together. When he first touched you to change your dressing, it was almost intimate. It wasn't until a while later that you were both able to act more freely, and Joel made sure he wasn't hurting you.

For him, it was a nice feeling to have you under his roof. He missed what you used to have, but if what was now was all he could get - he had no intention of giving it up. Even though you were sleeping in the other room, you were alive, you were close to him, he could hear you.

You ate meals together, spent evenings together. You didn't flinch at his accidental touch, and it even happened a few times that when you entered the kitchen you stroked his back, Joel closed his eyes then because of this tender gesture.

He missed you even though you were right next to him. He missed being close to you, missed the warmth of your body. But he only had these few moments that were going to be taken away from him anyway.

It was getting quite cold and the sun was setting really early when you returned home smiling, although a little bit frozen. Ellie was curled up on the couch reading a comic book while Joel was adding wood to the fire when you stood in front of them and lifted your shirt to show your freshly healed scar.

"Doc took the stitches out!" you announced excitedly. "I should still be careful, but he says everything is okay now."

"Cool!" Ellie's face lit up. "How many scars do you have?"

"She should have as few as possible." Joel mumbled, glancing at the healed area from the surgery.

"I have two other pieces of news." you announced, sitting down in the armchair and smiling at them like you just won the lottery. "Since everything is okay, I'll go back to my place tomorrow. You can rest from me."

"No!" Ellie groaned. "And the second one?"

"I met Tommy. He said that since Doc doesn't see any contraindications, I'll be able to go back to my old activities soon."

Joel stood up. You noticed right away that he wasn't in the best of moods.

"I don't think you should come back so soon." he mumbled. "You shouldn't take risks."

"Joel, Doc says she's fine!" Ellie pointed out.

"Maybe, but she almost bled out on my hands. I don't want to risk that again."

Silence fell. The atmosphere became tense in an instant. All the joy you brought with you escaped like air from a burst balloon.

Joel avoided your gaze, but took a defensive stance.

"Ellie, can you go to Doc?" you finally said. "He said he could use your help. They brought him some supplies yesterday."

"Yeah, sure." The girl nodded, standing up and quickly putting on her jacket. "Just don't kill each other here." she mumbled and left, slamming the door.

You rested your elbows on your knees and intertwined your fingers, sighing quietly.

"Joel, you knew perfectly well that I wouldn't stay here forever." You began calmly, trying to choose your words carefully. "All of this was for a moment. Until I feel better. That was what you said."

"I just don't think you should go back to your duties yet. It's not safe for you." He replied, resting his hands on his hips and looking down at you.

"You can't watch over me all the time, Joel!" You groaned, getting up from your chair. "You have some kind of…obsession..."

"Obsession?!" He interrupted you mockingly.

"Yes! You can't control everything. You can't protect everyone. You know perfectly well that I can handle it."

"You almost died last time!" He growled.

"I'll die someday anyway, Joel. You can't save everyone..." You approached him and wanted to put your hand on his shoulder, but he stepped back. "I'm sorry."

You passed him and headed towards the stairs. You wanted to pack your things so you could leave their house the next day. You only regretted that the atmosphere had gone sour so quickly.

You were already halfway up the stairs when Joel's loud voice reached your ears.

"I love you." He said, his voice trembling. You saw that his eyes were shining in the warm glow of the fireplace, he was truly moved. "I've loved you for years. I should have told you in Boston, but I was afraid. I was too selfish, Y/N. I thought I wanted you to be safe, but what I really wanted was to have you all to myself. I wanted to hide you from the whole world like some fucking treasure. When I lost you, everything lost its meaning. I was alone again. It fucking scared me."

You swallowed hard, feeling your throat tighten painfully. Joel took a few steps towards the stairs.

"After all this time, I met you again. I don't know what I should do to atone for what I did to you, babe." he continued, and tears welled up in your eyes. "I almost lost you twice. I can't take it anymore... I love you. I love you so much it hurts. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. I can only promise you that as long as I live, I will fight to keep you safe."

You didn't have time to answer. You opened your mouth, but Joel stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Tears ran down your cheeks.

He felt empty inside. Everything that had filled him for the past few weeks had simply fled. It was as if someone had woken him from a deep sleep by pouring a bucket of cold water over his head.

He was afraid again. He felt that his hands were shaking slightly, so he pressed them harder into his jacket pockets. He already regretted telling you what he felt, but at the same time he was grateful that he had finally managed to get it all out.

He had never told you that he often woke up at night, because he dreamed about that night when you were injured, it still kept appearing before his eyes. He could still see your blood on his hands, he could still hear your weak voice.

Over all these years, Joel had forgotten what it was like to love. Love only reminded him of the pain of loss, and he didn't want to experience that again.

And then you appeared and became his everything. He had someone close to him again. And Joel was hungry for another person, closeness, intimacy, even love. When you slept next to him, he would often stare at you for hours. He knew your moves, knew your routines. Maybe you didn't even know it, but you had created a semblance of home with him then. He never dared to tell you that.

The last few weeks have been really good. And now he was going to lose it all again? How much more loss did he have to experience in this miserable life...

You couldn't sleep. You lay in bed and listened to the sounds in the house. Ellie appeared only for a moment, saying something about spending the night at a friend's house, and then she left again. You suspected that she sensed the nervous atmosphere and didn't want to stand between you and Joel.

He hadn't appeared until now. The house was quiet, and the clock quietly ticked off the minutes. It wasn't until around midnight that you heard familiar footsteps on the stairs and the door closing on the other side of the hallway. You lay there for a while longer.

Joel left you completely shattered, with a jumble of thoughts in your head and tears streaming down your cheeks. You cried for a while longer before you finally changed into your pajamas and laid down in bed.

But you couldn't take it any longer. You quietly left the room and walked barefoot through the cool hallway. Although you put your ear to Joel's bedroom door, you didn't hear anything. So you pressed the handle and slipped inside.

The room was dark, but you easily made your way to his bed.

"Y/N? What are you doing?" his slightly sleepy voice rang out as you got under his covers.

You didn't answer. You moved closer to him. Joel didn't even move. He felt your warm fingers touch his stubbled cheek, the warmth of your body right next to him.

And then you kissed him. For the first time in so long, he felt the taste of your lips again. They were salty from tears, but soft, delicate, just as he remembered. You kissed him slowly and didn't protest when his arms gathered you so that you were lying on his chest.

He wanted more. He slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. He caressed you, eliciting the most beautiful sighs he'd heard from you.

"I don't want to hurt you, baby..." he whispered as you stood up and with a swift movement took your sweatshirt over your head.

"I know, Joel..." you replied seeing his eyes shining in the dark "I'm always safe with you."

He stood up and sliding his fingers into your hair pulled you in for another kiss. It was strong and full of longing that had filled his heart for so long. You clung to him feeling how much you missed him too.

Joel's lips slid down your neck kissing then your collarbone and shoulders. Familiar fingers slid down your back and then you felt them find the scar on your side. He sighed quietly feeling the length of your wound under his fingertips.

"I'm fine." you assured him kissing his temple.

His hand slid lower. In the dim light from outside he could see a new scar, a trace from when you almost died.

"I love you so much, Y/N..." he whispered "And it scares me..."

"I know, I know..." you took his face in your hands and found his gaze "I'm scared too, but I love you and it gives me strength." his eyes gazed at you tenderly "Yes, I love you. I've loved you for a long time, even though I wanted to forget about it. But I don't want to go back to how it was when all we have is this moment. Make love to me, Joel. I want to feel you again..."

In an instant, he flipped you over onto your back, trapping you between his arms. Your lips collided again. You managed to take his shirt off and soon your hands could touch the body they knew so well.

He was yours. In that moment, you felt it completely. When he kissed your breasts, and his lips hungrily closed on your nipples, you felt the excitement growing between your legs. It was so familiar, and yet so new.

You were different people now, so this was different too.

You lifted your hips slightly as he took off your panties, kissing your thigh tenderly. His hands caressed your body, touching every spot that drew sweet sighs and moans from you.

When you noticed that his gaze had once again wandered to your scars, you helped him find his way back.

"I'm here, baby. I'm with you." You said quietly, touching his face and directing his face towards you.

His fingers slid over your juice-covered folds. Your body recognized him, his touch, his closeness. It was eager to feel him inside too.

"Tell me you want me..." he whispered as he slid down his pants and his hard manhood popped out of them.

"I want you, Joel. I always have and I always will."

"I need to be inside you, baby. Then I'll let you come on my fingers, on my lips, but first..."

"That's fine, baby. I'm in no hurry."

A faint smile appeared on his face. He grabbed his cock and ran the tip over your entrance a few times. When he pushed in slowly, you closed your eyes, moaning softly with pleasure at how well he stretched your walls. He pushed all the way in and Joel lay on top of you, hiding his face in that sweet spot by your collarbone.

"Fuck, amazing..." he groaned "I've missed this feeling. You squeeze me so good, baby."

"Move, please... I need you..."

When he moved for the first time, you already knew you were over the edge. His cock moved inside you slowly. Joel knew your body perfectly, he knew just how to hit you to make you let out all those moans he loved so much.

And he used that knowledge, you were falling apart under him into a thousand pieces. Your nails dug into his shoulders, but he didn't even feel the pain. All that mattered was you and that moment.

"I can't hold out much longer, baby..." he panted, thrusting into you harder and faster. "I haven't had you for so long..."

"I'm close... so close..."

He rose, threw your legs over his shoulders, and began to pound into you harder and harder. In an instant, your whole body trembled as you reached your peak. Joel groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. He thrust a few more times, then pulled out, spilling himself onto your lower abdomen with a loud moan.

"Oh, fuck! Sweet Jesus..."

You were both panting heavily, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from each other. He didn't have time to react when you unexpectedly sat up, grabbed his neck and pulled him closer, stealing his breath from his lips.

"I love you..." you whispered "I love you so much..."

A few months later.

"Do you miss this?"

"What do you mean?"

Ellie glanced at you from behind the book she was reading and widened her teeth.

"You know what I mean." she replied "Patrols, searching for supplies, shooting..."

"I definitely don't miss that last one." you laughed, but then hissed quietly as you stuck the needle in your finger "Fuck! I'm not cut out for this!"

"You have to be patient. You told me the same thing when I was learning to drive, remember?"

"Too good." you mumbled sucking on your aching finger "It'll take me forever to sew these buttons on."

The door slammed and you both raised your heads. Joel entered the house bringing with him the smell of freshly sanded wood. He smiled at the sight of you.

"Finally!" Ellie jumped up from her armchair "I was supposed to meet up with my friends, and you don't seem to remember how watches work."

"Sorry, kid. Tommy wanted to talk." Joel replied, walking up to you and kissing the top of your head "Go, if you have to."

The door slammed shut immediately and you were left alone. Joel plopped down on the couch next to you, his large hand resting on your rounded belly. He smiled when he felt a gentle kick.

"You're getting bigger." he noticed.

"Fuck, Joel!" you laughed, putting the material and the needle aside "You saw me a few hours ago. I don't grow that fast."

"You just think so."

You shook your head in disbelief. "I think you and Ellie decided to tease me throughout the entire pregnancy. Don't deny it! This morning she asked me if I could still reach the kitchen counter."

"And you can?"

You nudged him hard in the side. "Asshole!"

The news of the pregnancy came to you unexpectedly. Joel still remembered your terrified look when you sat down in front of him and showed him the pregnancy test you brought from the clinic. Your period was already five weeks late, but you didn't have the typical pregnancy symptoms.

You stared at the positive result without saying a word for a long moment, afraid of each other's reactions. Finally, Joel spoke first.

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I don't know, Joel. My mind is blank..."

And then tears rolled down your cheeks. He held you in his arms, and you cried and apologized to him as if this pregnancy was your fault.

That night you talked about all the possibilities, all the scenarios. You both knew that bringing a child into such a fucked up world was the height of selfishness, but you couldn't make any decisions.

When you fell asleep at dawn, he stared at you for a long time, thinking about it all.

You were his everything. After that night together, you didn't leave his house, but even moved into his bedroom. Joel felt complete, for the first time in many years. After many conversations, you found compromises that satisfied you both and decided to try everything again.

And now - pregnancy.

He didn't wonder when it could happen, it didn't matter. What mattered was you. If you told him you didn't want this child, he wouldn't protest. But you weren't sure about anything...

However, when you stretched in bed in the morning, mumbling a quiet "Good morning", Joel Miller already knew what he should say.

"Whatever you decide, I'll be there for you. If you want this baby, I'm all in. And you need to know that I'll do everything I can to keep you and the baby safe. I love you, Y/N, no matter what."

He finally felt like he was in the right place. He wanted everything with you - a home, a family, a future. He was finally thinking beyond tomorrow and he loved it.

"I think it's going to be a girl." he said, watching you get up from the couch to make yourself some tea.

"Really? Why do you think that?" you laughed, pouring water into the kettle.

"Just a hunch."

"Uhm. I like it."

"And I like you."

You smiled, and Joel thought that this was what heaven should look like.

Just like you.

the end.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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oneluckydragon · 1 year ago

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We'd both been so excited for it-- to change, to grow stronger, to pass another life-changing milestone on our adventure together. But after I evolved, it took weeks before Sora could even bring herself to look me in the eyes. It went unsaid between us, poisoning our hearts like a cold, bitter curse and haunting every intake of breath. Although, the worst of it all... was that even without words, we both knew why it hurt so much.

Like some sick joke, I had become the spitting image of him.

Ya'll know that feeling when you [Hero] try to evolve into a Leafeon to be closer in spirit to the best friend you lost [Grovyle] because you miss him so much it physically aches, but instead you end up looking like the guy you trusted/adored that betrayed/tried to kill you and your girlfriend? Cause damn it hurts.

Anyways ever since I replayed EOS and evolved at Luminous Spring I've had thoughts about what Sora's reaction would be to Echo's evolution into Umbreon. And lemme tell you that it's an emotional roller coaster. To say that Sora has complicated feelings about Dusknoir is an understatement, and Echo isn't so happy about it either since she had put her faith in him. They've got a lot of trauma to heal.

But to add to that, I like to write about my girls in my spare time when I'm not drawing cause it's fun, so maybe I'll post some little blurbs sometime if anyone is interested?? Hm. Yeah might do that eventually, we'll have to see.

#i have LOTS of feelings about Team Wish's relationship with Dusknoir and the aftermath of the main story and i need to EXPRESS it #yes... some of Echo's markings match the pathetic man which makes it EVEN WORSE for them both to deal with #for the first few days Sora visibly recoils every time she glances at Echo-- which hurts them both equally even though it's an accident #and when grovyle/celebi/dusknoir return from the future post-game i'm sure you can imagine the shit that goes down #i like to think that they reconcile but dusknoir needs to know that he effed up big time and needs to do some serious apologizing #it's obvious which pic i was the most invested in but i'm not ashamed i like drawing glowy/sparkly stuff #this was also supposed to just be a quick doodle but i went a tiny bit farther than that... i added some color wow #pmd #pmd2 #pmd eos #echo/umbreon #sora/lucario #dusknoir #my art

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peterparkouryo · 2 months ago

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no way remedy | ꕥ

back to school. | ꕥ

warnings: angst per usual, and a glimpse of fluff :3

word count: 3.3k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist

IT HAD BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE PETER'S IDENTITY WAS REVEALED. Two weeks left of your summer break, tomorrow being the first day of school that you dreaded with each hour that passed by.

As expected, your dad limited your hangouts with Peter, not wanting you to face more trouble than you already ensued before, which, yeah was ultimately understandable, but you both knew he couldn't just deprive you from seeing your boyfriend. He opted to one hour phone calls instead.

You and Peter had broken that rule, going hours on end during the night while your dad slept soundlessly, oblivious to your loophole.

Currently, you were doing just that, chatting on FaceTime, paying no mind to the fact that it was a school night.

You had missed Peter these past few weeks, and you were finally glad you'd be able to see him tomorrow, but there was no doubt chaos would be awaiting you and your friends.

"Did you get a chance to send in your applications?" You questioned after your conversation about things you expected for Christmas died out.

"I literally just finished my MIT one." Peter tells you, the phone screen bright in your face, a stark contrast from the darkness that surrounded you.

You knew the chances were slim with getting into certain colleges, so you all had came up with a plan to apply to the same backup colleges if all goes wrong, or if miraculously none of you were accepted.

"You?" He retorted back.

"I did, few weeks ago." You admit, shuffling into a more comfortable position.

Peter hums out a response. "Could you imagine if we both got in? MJ and Ned too?" The boy wondered, to which you nod in agreement to. That was the plan after all.

"Yeah, but we'd probably have to get scholarships so that we could actually go." You say, a bit doubtful at your chances.

It's not that you didn't have hope, but with everything that's been going on, you knew your chances of getting in decreased, scholarship or not.

"Come on, you got the scores and the grades." Peter reassured you, dismissing your rational words.

You squint at him in scepticism.

"Are you trying to say I'm being too realistic?" You pondered, raising your eyebrow expectingly.

You probably were, but your question wasn't serious, just only teasing.

"No-, well, yeah, maybe." Peter stuttered out his reply carefully.

Peter shrugs as you let out a low chuckle, watching his face relax into relief, realizing the question wasn't to be taken serious.

"That's okay, though." Peter said after two seconds of silence, giving you a small smile.

"It's one of the many things I love about you." Peter confessed, and he could've swore your eyes got brighter at his sentence.

You smile, feeling the heat warm up your face at his disclosure. The boy seemed to always know what to say at any given time, one of the many things you loved about him.

"Really?" You amused, Peter giving you a small nod.

"What are the other things?" You wondered, rubbing your cold feet together in attempt to keep them warm.

Peter pretends to think about it for a second, and you roll your eyes at his stunt.

"Well.." He starts, with a smile plastered on his face.

"I love how brave you are." The boy tells you, looking back at the phone.

You hum, waiting for him to continue.

"You're also super nice to people." Peter jokes, to which you laugh at.

"Yup, I just love being nice." You agreed sarcastically.

"Your humour, which can be...really dark at times." Peter continued, you give him a grateful smile.

"It makes it more funny." You say nonchalantly, giving Peter a cheeky smile, watching the boy shake his head.

"And..." He trailed off.

"You make me really happy." Peter finalized, and your heart just about flutters in your chest.

You never really made it a goal to prioritized Peter's happiness, but you would never neglect it on purpose either. There was just this unspoken agreement that you had to always no matter what, make the most of what you had. There were going to be times and obstacles in your life that you would face, and you hoped in some way Peter would be there with you every step of the way.

You could say just about the same as well. You never had anyone in your life make you feel the way you felt when around Peter. His presence was enough to make you melt into a puddle, and you were glad you had found him.

You were truly thankful for him. If he asked for the world, you would give it to him in a heartbeat.

You open your mouth to express your reciprocation, but something, or someone snoring obnoxiously loud in the background breaks your train of thought.

"What's that noise?" You quizzed with furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh, it's Happy, look." Peter replies with a whisper, panning his phone over to a sleeping Happy in his recliner.

"Gave his room to May so he's sleeping down here." The boy adds informally, and you slowly nod before deciding to change the topic.

Since the unexpected situation at Times Square that happened, you had this nagging thought in the back of your head that always seemed to make a guest appearance when you were alone with your daydreaming.

You wanted to ask Peter for awhile now, but you never had the time, or chance to.

You figured now's a good time more than any.

"I have a..weird question." You start unsurely, your tone lowering with each word.

You didn't know how to ask it, really. It only just being a thought in your head, words jumbled together, not really making sense, but you thought it never the less.

"Does any part of you feel relieved about all of this?" You finally let out, watching your boyfriend's face twist in confusion at the lack of context you provided.

"What do you mean?" He questioned.

"Like, with the whole identity thing being revealed." You say more clearly, and his face pondered at your sentence.

A few seconds of silence creeps through the phone, the question still lingering in the air, awaiting to be answered.

"Ever since I got bit by that spider.." Peter starts, breaking the silence as he slowly answered the question.

"I only had one week where my life felt normal." He tells you and you couldn't help but feel bad.

"Or kind of normal, I guess." Peter adds and you nod in silence as he continues.

"And, that is when you found out." He says, gazing back at the phone.

You pout slightly, your sympathetic eyes staring behind your phone as you listened.

"Because then everyone that was in my life that I wanted to know, knew." Peter admits, and your eyes shift back toward the phone.

You understood where Peter was coming from, glad your question was answered. You really couldn't imagine the things your boyfriend had to go through after being bitten by a radioactive spider.

"And it was perfect."

You sigh in defeat, your face falls into a sad expression, at a lost for words or even a proper reply.

"But now everybody knows and I am the most famous person in the entire world." Peter states with a heavy sigh as he stared at the condo ceiling.

"And I'm still broke." The boy joked, making you let out a giggle.

You were silent for another minute, your heart beating at a steady rhythm against your chest, content with Peter's answer.

You couldn't bare another day without physically seeing him, the daily routined phone calls not enough.

"I really miss you." You tell him with a soft tone, your eyes looking at the carpet of your bedroom before looking back at the phone, seeing Peter's face gleam.

"Yeah?" He asked with a smile.

"Mhm." You hummed. "I also can't wait to see you at school tomorrow." You confessed, your eyes half lidded, tiredness hitting you like an ocean wave.

"I miss you, and I too can't wait to see you at school tomorrow." Peter retorts, his smile only growing wider with each word he says.

"Wrap it up." A voice demands from Peter's end of the phone, making the boy jump in alert, as you just furrow your eyebrows.

"You both like each other. We get it. Hang up." Happy countered sternly and you fight back a laugh at his annoyance.

"There's no new ground being broken. I need my eight hours." The older man says, his voice muffled by the ventilator.

"Have you been listening this whole time?" Peter questioned.

"Hi Happy." You greet awkwardly.

"Uh, not by choice." The man admits, to which you do laugh at.

"Y/N says hi." Peter tells the grumpy man.

"Hello." He waves, slowly drifting off back into his slumber.

You two suppress your giggles after Happy falls asleep again. It only got harder since the mere thought of poor Happy listening to you two talk all sappy to each other, tortured him, and you could take a few guesses as to why.

You yawn after you both stop your laughter, the action not going unnoticed by Peter.

"You should probably get your eight hours in." The boy teased, you snort at his joke, nodding in agreement.

"You as well." You tell him, stretching the lower half of your body, once again shifting into a cosier position.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, 'kay?" Peter agreed, and you could see the sleepiness in his eyes.

It was a wonder how it only took Happy breaking your conversation midway to make the two of you realize just how tired you were.

"Goodnight Peter." You reply, a lazy smile on your face.

"Goodnight." The boy says softly, the phone call coming to an end.

You stretch once more, putting your phone on the nightstand near your bed, turning over to get more comfier under your blanket, closing your eyes and picturing a world where you and your friends didn't have to go through the torment you were going through now.

Hopefully your school day wouldn't be as bad as you thought.

School was just as bad as you thought. As soon as you exit the car, there was a mob of either citizens or students swarming the front of the school.

You and MJ had to ride to school with Peter and Ned, via Happy's request because May feared the worst if you four weren't together when attending school. You were glad that she suggested it, because compared to how you imagined, it was chaos.

Chaos is probably a bit of a stretch, but when you were walking up to the school, there was people with homemade posters, claiming just how wrongly villainous Peter was, blaming the boy for Mysterio's death.

As mentioned before you weren't a people person, and you didn't do well in a large crowd, though this wasn't exactly your problem, you made it your problem because you knew Peter. You don't regret it one bit though. The one thing you wished for really was for the people to understand Peter's side of the story.

No one deserves to be wrongly accused for something they didn't do, but you knew how the world worked. People believed what they wanted to believe.

Your anxiety worsen as you walked side by side next to said person, Peter, your sister, MJ, and best friend Ned, closely behind the two of you.

You and Peter instinctively reached for each-other's hand, being one another's unsaid emotional support, guiding through the roaring crowds of people dreadfully.

People were either shouting your name, Peter's name, even Ned and MJ's. Some were saying things you couldn't quite hear, insults here and there, one civilian even asking you if you were going to have Peter's, "spider babies". You shivered at the thought.

Thankfully, a lady who guided you through the crowd, had made sure no one got too close to you or your friends.

"You know he's a murderer right?

"Peter. Do a TikTok with me."

"Mysterio forever!"

"Do a flip!"

Was all you heard as you walked by, your gaze worriedly going to Peter's who face was pinched with cringe, his strong urge to ignore the words being thrown at him.

When the four of you had finally arrive at the threshold of the front doors of Midtown, there was a few security guards waiting at the door, one with a body scanner.

The one with the body scanner, scans Peter, who after he was done attempted to wait for you and your friends, but obviously they wouldn't let him, and your face is evident in defeat.

"I'll see you inside, okay?" Peter reassures as a security guard body scans you, you give him a weak nod.

Soon after, MJ, and Ned get scanned as well, you waited inside the building patiently.

One of the front doors open, revealing MJ, who quickly goes over to hug you, her curly hair in a down do hairstyle, different from her common one you were so used to.

You quickly hug her back, embracing each-other for awhile before pulling back.

"You okay?" You ask her, she nods in response.

"Yeah, where's Peter?" She questioned.

"Class probably." You answer unsurely.

To be fair, you really had no idea where your boyfriend had went. You figured he'd be in class anyway, but not without going through expecting students that most likely lingered in the hallway.

It was your senior year you realize, this was supposed to be it. Instead you were doing everything but beaming with happiness as your final year finally rolled around.

"'S fine, we have him next period." She says, linking her arm with yours as the two of you wait for Ned.

You had no first period class with the two of them, but you decided on earlier in the car you all would walk each-other to your classes, but since the plan backfired, you just had to make do with what you got.

Ned arrives shortly, asking the both of you if you were okay, and you two tell him you were before dreadfully making your way to class.

When lunch finally came, Peter finds his way to you somehow through the expecting large crowds of people who lingered to gaze at him, some amazed that an actual superhero was attending their very school.

The boy had pleaded for the two of you to go someplace quiet, anywhere away from the pestering students inhabiting the school, it didn't take much convincing on your end.

Peter had taken you to the roof of the school, a place you knew was probably the most quietest the two of you had been to in what felt like forever.

"Can we just stay up here all day?" Peter asked from above you, you reading through a newspaper you had found on your way to school.

You two had been up here for five minutes, you resting your head in his lap as he relaxed above you, staring off thinking about only god knows what.

"It is so crazy down there." He tells you, and you hum in agreement, something in the newspaper article catching your eye, almost making you laugh out loud.

"Wait, 's one's good." You say with a small chuckle.

"Some suggest that Parker's power include male spider's ability to hypnotize females," You share with a more bigger chuckle, and from the corner of your eye you see Peter's face fall in disbelief. "Which he used to seduce Jones-Watson into his cult of personality." You finish in amusement, hearing Peter let out a groan.

"Oh, Come on. Stop, stop." He pleaded, and you mischievously smirk.

"Yes my spider king." You mock teasingly.

Peter shoots you a glare from above as you break out into a giggle, the boy soon chuckling as well.

Once the both of you stop your chortling, you sit up from where you rested in his lap, placing the newspaper next to your backpack, gazing at Peter who was already looking at you.

You notice the boy's stare shift from your eyes, trailing to your lips, and you can't help but do the same. Peter smoothly places one of his hands on your cheek, the warmth of it burning against your fair skin.

You already knew where this was going, you had been touched deprived from him for way too long, and you were finally happy the two of you got the alone time you deserved.

You close your eyes just as Peter does the same, both of you leaning in, your lips just inches away, you could feel his breath so close to yours, going in for what you needed most.

"Finally some privacy." Ned bursts through the exit door of the roof, MJ trailing behind him with her bag half on her shoulder.

You and Peter slowly pull away, the boy's hand falling from your face and you give him a sheepish look with a shrug, your eyes watching the two come sit across from you and Peter.

"It is so crazy down there." Ned says, shrugging off his backpack and you just nod in agreement as MJ looked in-between you and Peter.

"What were you two losers doing?" MJ questioned knowingly, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing."

"Talking."

You give Peter a look, which only made MJ grow more in suspicion at what you were really up to.

Truth was, you were doing nothing, the only thing about to be done didn't happen, and you were talking at first, so not much of that was really a lie.

But thankfully your sister decides not to harass the two of you anymore, pulling out a book from her backpack, blocking the three of you out for the mean time.

"So, I was thinking.." Ned trails off, grabbing his backpack and unzipping the bag to dig through it.

"When we get into MIT, we should live together." The boy suggested as he pulled out his school laptop.

You smile at his words, nodding in agreement as did Peter.

"Yeah, for sure." The spider boy verbally agrees.

"Yeah, love that." MJ deadpans.

You ignore her, focusing your attention on the laptop that Ned had pulled out, showing the front page of MIT.

MJ looks up in curiosity, glancing at the laptop that was held on display for the three of you.

"This is gonna be us." Ned smiles.

"Sure." You say, whole heartedly agreeing with him.

"Minus the Frisbee and the smiling." MJ added, her face cringing at the mere image.

"MIT's obviously the dream, but if we match our backup schools, then either way we'll be in Boston." Peter countered with hope laced in his tone.

"New school, new town. I can Spider-Man there." The boy suggested, getting approving nods from MJ and Ned, turning his gaze to you and you shrug.

"They have crime in Boston, right?" Peter asked you absentmindly, you once again shrug, giving a verbal answer as well.

"Totally."

"Wicked crime" Ned adds in.

"It'll be like a fresh start." Peter states, still expectingly gazing upon you.

You reluctantly nod, sparing a glance at MJ, who's face fell from her grimace to a much more dreaded look.

Peter noticed the lack of the both of your hopeful faces, furrowing his eyebrows in wonder.

"What's up?" Peter questioned, darting his eyes in-between the two of you.

You told MJ about your doubts of the two of you getting to the same school, well not just the two of you, all of you, really. You never had a single doubt before, but now that the knowledge of Peter's secret identity was revealed, you feared that with you knowing him your chances would decrease.

You just wanted all of you to be in the same place at all times, safe and happy. It was easier said than done unfortunately.

"Nothing, it's just..." You trail off, not knowing how to word what you were feeling.

"If you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed." You hear your sister say, the three of you turning your heads to look at the girl.

You nod at her words. It was something she would rarely say, this being the first time she shared her words to anyone in a long time.

"No, hey, come on." Peter says, taking a hold of your hand, before looking back at MJ.

"Be a fresh start, and we'll all be together." Peter reassured, his hold of your hand only tightening, showing you a reassuring smile.

There was something that lingered inside you at his words, you couldn't pinpoint it but you figured you best drop the uneasy feeling still stirring in your gut, giving your boyfriend a nod in agreement.

"Yeah, fresh start." You mutter, giving him a weak smile.

"Fresh start." Ned also says, placing his hand on top of yours and Peter's and when MJ didn't, the boy's other hand dragged her free one on top of his.

You had only hoped Peter's words were right. You couldn't bare another disappointment ensuing.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #michelle jones #spiderman no way home #spider man no way home #spider man no way home x reader #spider man #spider man nwh #ned leeds #no way home

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