#only an idiot trades someone like her away
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Jude Jazza Main Story: Preview
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
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My sin is— an unfulfilled promise.
It all started with a single promise I blurted out in the heat of the moment.
…
Kate: Until my time as the Fairytale Keeper comes to an end, I’ll keep looking for something I can love about you.
Jude: Remember one thing, Princess. … My “promises” ain’t cheap.
Jude: If ya break yer promise, I’ll show ya a livin’ hell that’ll make ya wish ya were dead.
Jude Jazza, a member of Crown and president of a trading company. He was an arrogant, merciless, unforgiving villain. He was… exactly the despicable jerk my first impression and his reputation warned me of.
…
Kate: If you keep going out of your way to make enemies, incurring the enmity of others, and putting yourself in more danger… you’ll… end up dead, you know?
Jude: Ha? What’s it to ya if I die from all the grudges against me?
Jude: Don’t go actin’ all righteous and stickin’ yer nose where it don’t belong, idiot.
Jude: No passin’ out now. Ya still owe me two rounds, mister.
Amidst the endless cycle of revenge, he laughed in joy.
He was a cruel man who delighted in the misery of others. There was no way I could ever come to love someone like him.
But if I didn't fulfil my promise, it would be a breach of our contract— and I would become his prey.
…
As I desperately tried to find something to love about him, we slowly grew closer— and the promise he wanted to fulfil became apparent.
Jude: Ain’t laughin’? That’s rare.
Kate: I’m not going to laugh. While it’s true that you’re narrow-minded, arrogant, cruel, greatly disliked, and a true villain right to the core…
Jude: Go on.
Kate: … No matter who they are, I would never laugh at someone’s genuine dream.
That night, when we shared things about ourselves that we never revealed to other people— I found myself falling into the depths of love.
… Because I fell in love with him, I realised things I never wanted to… like his true feelings.
…
Kate: — You really should stop making any more enemies, in order to fulfil the promise.
Kate: And yet… you’re crossing dangerous bridges on purpose.
Jude: ��� What ya tryin’ to say?
(The truth is, Jude is…)
(He’s…)
Kate: Do you want to give up?
Jude: …
Jude: So what if I am?
In this world where no amount of grudges, hatred, or cries can bring back what was lost— you’re more exhausted than anyone from carrying the burden of a promise you can't forget.
…
Kate: I…!
Jude: Love’s a curse.
Jude: Sayin’ “I love you” is like sayin’”I’ll put a curse on you.”
Jude: It hurts when ya lose it, ya hate it when it’s taken from ya, and it’s unforgivable if ya get betrayed.
Jude: And yet, ya can’t resist it once it’s given to ya. Love’s the root of all evil.
Jude: I don’t wanna curse nobody, nor be cursed myself.
There's no saving you from love. It only brings you pain and suffering.
As I was crushed by this undeniable truth, a dark shadow crept up on me.
…
???: Don’t move. Put your hands up…!
???: Crown member Jude Jazza, you're under arrest by the order of Her Majesty's private army,
Ellis: Jude.
Jude: Ellis, stay outta this.
Kate: Why!?
Ellis: … He’s probably being framed.
…
Even if you reject my love, even if you push me away, I’ll keep clinging to you.
But while on the run, you…
Jude: That’s enough. This time, I’m endin’ our contract.
Jude: I got nothin’ to do with ya anymore. Don’t care how ya do it, just get outta my sight.
Kate: What… how could you… you said it yourself that a one-sided cancellation of the contract is invalid!
Kate: I refuse. I want to be together with you—
Jude: … Kate.
He touched his fingers to my forehead.
He was all I could see as he gave me a pained smile.
Jude: I thought it was stupid of ya to go lookin’ for something to love about me.
Jude: But bein’ genuinely liked without an ulterior motive… doesn't feel so bad.
Jude: — Good night, Princess.
…
It was unbelievable how he put me to sleep, ignoring my wishes, and did as he pleased.
That arrogant, cruel, unforgiving villain.
And yet, because I was in love with him—
I wasn't going to forgive him so easily for abandoning me after saying his piece.
When I woke up, I chased after the 13th fairy… and cast a curse on him.
An merciless, unbreakable curse called love.
…
Jude: Of all people, I’ll make sure that ya never feel unhappy. And ya ain’t allowed to leave me, either.
Jude: That's the price for castin’ this curse on me.
Let’s make a promise— even if it curses you.
#ikemen villains#ikemen series#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#ikevil translations#otome#ikevil main story#jude main story#jude jazza
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Anyways love Balcer, fuck our front office
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How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 1 (Adoption AU)
Ao3
Elle loves flying. The way the wind whips around her, the weightlessness of it, how small everything looks so high up, and most of all how freeing it is.When she is up in the air she is free, safe, away from everything that hurts her and tries to drag her down into their control. Free, never being tied down and forced into a role she never wanted. Free, able to go from place to place, exploring a world that was kept from her. Free to be herself, to learn what she wants and who she is. Ellie truly loved flying and the freedom it offers down to her very core. She wouldn’t trade it for anything, much less anything that the Fruitloop offered.
She was just so lonely. She has traveled far and wide, exploring different cultures, meeting new people, and learning about the world that the oldest Halfa hid from her. That is how she learned he lied to her more than she thought. While somewhere like the horror stories he told her most were nothing like he said. The people she met and spoke to were as wide and diverse as the sea. Some were tall and strong, while others were small and sneaky. Some knew so much she didn’t know how they fit everything in their head, then some may have not known as much but were no less clever. Some remind her of the Creep and why she left, yet others remind her of her template, Danny.
It seemed like that no matter where she went she saw something that reminded her of the first person to accept her. An observatory telling her all about space and the stars he endlessly spoke about. A mechanic down on his luck. A kid in highschool that was stressed about finals.The kind old lady that gave her the last of her own food to her because she noticed she was hungry. Someone told a ridiculous pun that made everyone groan. Another that saved a cat from a tree. Even seeing someone with black hair with either blue or green eyes made her turn her head and do a double take.
The worst was when another hero saved the day. She never stayed for too long when that happened, it made her bitter. Bitter to hear of a hero that claimed that they could hear a cry for help from across the world but never bothered to save her. Where was he when she and her siblings were being abused by a madman? When her sibling kept dying, only to be replaced by another as if they were objects? When she was being manipulated into betraying one of the only people that was treated with kindness?
In the end it was her own template that was the one to save her, not some boy scout who thought it was a good idea to wear his underwear over his other clothes. Her own template who had every reason to hate her after everything that had happened but instead looked her in the eye and said she was family. Who offered to risk his own freedom, his own safety, for the one-in-the-million chance his parents would accept and she would have a safe place to stay. Who saw her as her own person, even helping her come up with a new name after she offhandedly mentioned that she hated the one Knock-off Vampire gave her. Who made a grave for his siblings and worked to give each of them names after she chose her own. Who saw each and everyone as their own person, not just a failed copy that Cliche Money Bags saw us as. Who mourned them, who grieved the lives that they never got to experience, that he was too late to save them.
Danny was a hero, much more than the League of Idiots who can’t even see what is right in front of them. She doubts that they would treat her or her siblings even half as well as Danny, much less if they were clones of them.
#danny phantom#dcu#dcxdp#dp + dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#ghost king danny#danni phantom#ellie phantom#danielle “danni” phantom is called ellie#adoption au#vlad plasmius#justice league#superman#Vlad Masters#clones
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Chapter 18: Hole in None
Summary: During your bridal shower, Steve takes Javi golfing. When they return, the way Javi is acting has you questioning everything you knew about your relationship.
Word Count: 12.1K (getting back to my roots of a short chapter LMAO)
Warnings: SMUT(18+) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint?), makeup sex and getting caught (The Murphy's will never catch a break) ANGST (I'm so sorry!!), Hurt/comfort, Javi being super insecure, you being confused as hell, Steve being an absolute idiot
A/N: HELLO. IT'S ME! I DO EXSIST! I am genuinely SO sorry that this chapter has taken a million years to happen. December has been so busy and I have had no time to write, so I really, really appreciate all of your patience 🥺 This is a lil different than any other chapter we've had so far in the NTL universe, it's a lil angsty-er than normal but ya girl only believes in happy endings so don't fret!!! Also poorly beta'd bc I have the stomach flu and I am 100% there are mistakes in this chapter that I'm sure I missed 🫠
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“Do I really have to do this? This thing hasn’t even started yet and I’m already exhausted.”
“Yes, Hermosa, I do think that most people do expect the bride to be at her own bridal shower.” Javi laughed, staring into the bathroom mirror as he ran his hands through the dark curls of his hair, fixing them into place as you stood next to him, finishing the rest of your longer than usual makeup routine to prepare for being the center of attention against your will for the next several hours.
It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful that your co-workers wanted to throw you a bridal shower before your wedding, now only a few weeks away- the sentiment of the whole thing was incredibly thoughtful. Your 3rd grade teammates had even found a way to get in touch with your family to make sure that your mom, aunts and cousins felt included in the event, too. You should have been thrilled about the fact that the people who loved you most in the world were coming together to celebrate your upcoming wedding and quite literally showering you with gifts, but if there was one thing you hated more than anything else, it was the social exhaustion that came from having a party planned for no one but you.
You had really tried to convince Maria, Estelle, Linda, and now, your mom that you didn’t need a bridal shower- your wedding was going to be small, and since you had already been living on your own, there weren’t a lot of things you needed as you started married life together. Unfortunately, neither of those arguments were going to stop those ladies from going all out for you, leaving you feeling like your bridal shower was turning out to be even bigger than your actual wedding.
“Don’t you think I could just get a cardboard cutout of myself and use that instead? All these ladies love to talk so much that I don’t think they would even know the difference.” You sighed, giving yourself a once over in the mirror before putting away the rest of your makeup as Javi snuck behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, planting a soft kiss into your shoulder as he pressed his chest against your back.
“I have a feeling that someone would notice.” Javi chuckled, a soft grin spreading across his face as your eyes met in the mirror, his smile and sweet eyes enough to calm your nerves for at least a moment. “I would definitely notice.”
“Well that’s easy for you to say, you don’t even have to be there.” You huffed, letting a little pout fall from your lips as Javi playfully shook you in his grasp, trying your best not to smile as you tried to keep up your unenthused facade. “It’s not too late to trade. You can go to the bridal shower and I can go golfing with you and Steve.”
Even though Javi had insisted he was more than happy to stay at the shower with you, Maria had insisted that Javi find another way to spend his time so the spotlight of the day could be on you, and not him being distractingly handsome to everyone else there. Lucky for Javi, that meant extra time to spend with Steve while Connie was at your shower- not so lucky for you that Maria had banished your future husband from attending an event for your own wedding.
“I honestly may have to take you up on that. Steve must have needed an ego boost when I let him pick what he wanted to do while you and Connie were at the shower because he knows I can’t golf for shit.” Javi’s overdramatic sigh and roll of his eyes was enough to make you break into a little giggle, turning your head enough to press a quick kiss onto his cheek before reaching your hand under his chin, giving his jaw a little jiggle. “It’ll go by fast, Osita, I promise. And then, when we get home,” he paused, pressing another kiss into your shoulder and up towards your neck, digging his fingers a little tighter into your sides as he rasped into your ear, “I’ll take as much time as you want to destress you.”
“As much time as I want? Bold of you to assume that the dog is gonna give us that long.” You snickered as a happy Bear trotted into your bathroom right on cue, his tail loudly thumping against the bathroom cabinets from his happy wags as he wedged himself between you and Javi.
The newest furry member of your household had been a well loved addition, but if there was one thing Bear had no concept of, it was privacy. Your dog had become a constant shadow to you and Javi anywhere and everywhere in your house, including your in your bedroom, even when you were, well, not sleeping. It hadn’t helped that Javi had already formed such a soft spot for Bear, and had let him on your bed from the moment he stepped foot into the apartment, and now, your dog and his clingy personality had become a new obstacle to try and navigate in your sex life.
“Someone needs to tell his dad that he’ll survive if he gets left out of the bedroom for a half hour, huh? That he’s adorable, but that he can be a little cockblock, can’t he?” Squatting down next to Bear, you wrapped your hands around his face, scratching behind his ears as you mockingly serenaded him, raising an eyebrow at Javi.
“He just sounds so sad when he whines and he’s trapped outside the door.” Javi grumbled, kneeling down to join you, patting Bear’s stomach, now much thicker and fuller than it was a few weeks ago after you had first brought him home, skinny and neglected from his lack of care from his previous owners.
“You say trapped like we're kicking him out to the streets when we close the door on him. He’s adorable and sweet, but he’s a dog, Jav, he’ll be okay.” You smirked, playfully scolding Javi as you peppered Bear’s head with kisses, making his tail thump even harder as it wagged back and forth. “Tell your dad you’ll be just fine, won’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Javi groaned, knowing damn well you were right, even though he couldn’t bring himself to admit he had become an absolute softie for your new dog. “Alright, Hermosa, we gotta get you to this shower before Maria yells at me for making you late.” Pushing his hands against his knees, Javi let out a little grunt as he pushed himself back up to stand, checking the time on the silver watch wrapped around his wrist.
“Wow, so eager to get rid of me, you must really be excited to go get your ass kicked in golf.” You teased, now following suit and straightening out your dress as you stood, throwing your arms around Javi’s neck, pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a little kiss on his lips. “Sure you don’t want me to golf for you?”
“I’m sure, you dork.”
After Javi had insisted on giving Bear more than his fair share of treats before the two of you left for the day, you were on the road to Maria’s, Javi insisting that he drop you off, instead of letting you take the treacherous 2 minute drive by yourself. As you drove down Maria’s street, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of walking up to her house for an end of the school year party almost exactly a year ago. A party that had ultimately turned a handsome stranger from the Laredo Sheriff's department into your future husband, now sitting in the driver’s seat on the way to your bridal shower. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at the irony, leaning your head over onto Javi’s broad shoulder as you pulled up to Maria’s house.
“What’s up, Osita?” Javi asked, a twinge of confusion in his voice at the content and calm of your demeanor as the two of you arrived at the event that you had been seemingly dreading for days.
“I just- It was probably a year ago to the day the last time that we were at Maria’s house. Crazy to think that a year later we’re getting married and here for my bridal shower. I don’t know, a year ago I never would have thought I would have met someone I love so much, let alone be getting married, building a house, owning a dog, I- I’m just really happy that the department made you come to do that stupid presentation. You’ve made this year the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, Jav.”
A tender silence hung in the air as Javi leaned over the center console, gently bringing his palm to cup the side of your face, his thumb tracing circles along your cheek, letting his sweet brown eyes lock with yours as a soft smile spread across his face. “I love you too, Osita.” His words barely left his mouth above a whisper, bringing his lips to yours. The two of you could have stayed like this forever, lost in the moment of your love for each other, but unfortunately, the world had other plans.
“JAVIER. DIOS MIO. CAN YOU KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER FOR 3 SECONDS?” Maria shouted, banging at the driver’s side window, the aggressive thumps of her hand against the glass making the two of you practically jump out of your skin.
“Jesus Fucking Christ….” Javi whispered, clutching his hand over his chest, trying to steady his heart rate back to normal, the two of you looking at each other in pure terror.
“If you’re going to drop her off and make a scene in my driveway, the least you can do is help an old woman out before you leave, Javier!” Maria demanded, still rapping her knuckles against the glass, the two of you trying to keep from dying of embarrassment as you exited out of the car.
“Sorry Maria…” The two of you grimaced, still trying to avoid direct eye contact with her before she decided to scold you more.
“Chucho is right, you two are no worse than a pair of teenagers. Come on, we only have an hour before everyone arrives and I need you and that wildly blonde haired boy to help me move chairs.” Shaking her head in disappointment, Maria was already halfway up the driveway and into the house as you and Javi trailed behind her, glancing at each other in confusion as to who she was referring to, until you noticed the Murphy’s car parked on the side of the street, realizing that Steve and Connie must have beaten you there.
Before you even had a chance to make it a foot into the house, you were greeted by an overbearing swarm of people rushing to say hello and give you a hug, already feeling overwhelmed 30 seconds into the start of your shower, and these were all people you knew. Your mom was the first to make her way through the crowd, squeezing you in a death grip hug, even though you had just seen her last night after picking her up from the airport and dropping her off at her hotel.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe the day is almost here! My baby girl is finally getting married! Ugh, you look beautiful sweetheart!” Your mom beamed, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek before making her way over to Javi, squeezing him just as hard. “C’mere, don’t think that you get to escape hugs from me too, Javi.” Javi looked over at you, trying his best not to laugh at everyone’s dramatics, knowing how stressed you already were, and that no one’s overly excited attitude was doing you any favors.
“Ouch on the finally there, Mom. What do you need help with?” You asked, noticing that your mom had been holding on to Javi for a touch longer than what was probably appropriate while everyone else continued to hustle and bustle around Maria’s house.
“Does he always smell that good? God, I wished your father smelled like that, the man smells like a sweaty sock. Javi, what kind of cologne do you-”
“Mom! Jesus Christ.” You interjected, burying your hands in your face.
“Sorry, sorry! Honey, you don’t need to help with anything, it’s your shower!” Your mom swatted her hand at you, shaking her head in disbelief that you would ask to help, even though she knew better than anyone it was not in your nature to sit back on the sidelines and let other people do the work for you.
“Why don’t you come help me set up decorations?” A soft voice replied behind you, making you whip your head around as their hand rested on your shoulder.
“Connie!” You grinned, throwing her arms around her, relieved to find someone who wasn’t going to drive you absolutely crazy for the next hour of party prep. “It’s so good to see you, thank you so much for coming!”
“Hey, Sweetheart!” a lower voice grunted from behind a stack of folding chairs making its way to the backyard.
“Wow, Maria put you to work too, Steve? Yikes, she’s running a tight ship around here.” You and Connie snickered as Steve set down his stack of chairs, revealing his already sweaty and frustrated face, considering Maria had probably made him carry 6 trips worth of seats up and down the stairs since he and Connie had arrived.
“You’re tellin’ me. Hey, make yourself useful and pick up some of these chairs, lazy ass. Sooner we get this set up, the sooner I kick your butt at golf.” Steve smirked, gesturing over at Javi, still standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips.
“In that case, I’m taking one chair at a time.” Javi sighed, pressing a quick kiss to your temple in stride towards Steve, giving him a swift hug and a pat on the back before being interrupted by a shrill and demanding voice.
“JAVIER. I HEARD THAT. IF I DON’T SEE YOU WITH A STACK OF CHAIRS IN YOUR HANDS THE NEXT TIME YOU’RE OUTSIDE, IT’D BETTER BE BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.” Maria shouted from across the house, making everyone’s faces freeze in fear.
“You heard the woman. Chop, chop, Peña.” Steve chuckled to himself before passing off half of the chairs over to Javi, and walking towards the back of the house as Javi picked up his share, begrudgingly trailing behind Steve.
“Alright, we should probably get to work on decorations before Maria finds us standing around for too long. I know you’re the bride, but I have a feeling that holds very little value to her until everything is set up.” Connie shrugged, nodding towards the backyard where the shower was being held.
“You’re definitely right, and I would prefer to live through my bridal shower in order to make it to my actual wedding.”
With all of the helping hands around the house, and Maria’s commanding dictatorship over shower setup, all of you had finished with time to spare, leaving your mom and co-workers to happily chat and gossip amongst themselves as you and Connie found your way to say goodbye to Steve and Javi, one of whom was looking much more excited about departing for golf than the other.
“Have fun, ladies. Any last words for your future husband before I absolutely obliterate him on the golf course?” Steve snickered, giving Javi a soft punch on the shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up, Murph.” Javi groaned, rolling his eyes as he braced himself for the next 3 hours of harassment from his former partner.
“Don’t be too hard on him, okay Steve? He gets grumpy when he loses, so just a reasonable amount of ass whooping, nothing too drastic.” You teased, now playfully punching on the other side of his arm, you, Steve, and Connie laughing to yourselves at Javi’s fed up frown.
“Says the one who literally pouted for hours after insisting we play "Sorry" and then she lost.” Javi smugly murmured, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well someone wasn’t very sorry about it, were they… You know what, Steve? I changed my mind, go ahead and kick his ass for me.” A mischievous grin grew across your face, bursting out into giggles as Javi flung his arms around you, giving you a squeeze and shaking you in his grasp.
“Pendejo. Alright, you need anything else before I go get my ass kicked, Hermosa?” Javi asked, pressing a kiss into your hair. You were about to speak, but stopped yourself for a moment, looking Javi up and down, admiring how handsome he looked in the khakis and navy blue polo he had picked out this morning. You’d been so worried and worked up about the day that you hadn’t really had a chance to get a good look at him until now, and God, part of you wished you hadn’t taken the time to really take it all in as he stood next to you. You knew there was nothing you could really do about it now, but that wasn’t about to stop you from at least getting a little taste.
“Uh yeah, I uh- actually um, I uh, I scraped my finger earlier on one of the banners I was setting up and I think I got a papercut. I forgot to ask Maria about it earlier, but um, can you show me where the bandaids are upstairs again?” You tried your best to sound as casual as possible, but Javi knew just as well as you that there was no way in hell that you actually needed a bandaid. His brow scrunched in a slight confusion, head cocked to the side as if to say “I think I know where this is going and I’m not really sure it’s going to work” before giving you a little shrug, gesturing up towards the bathroom at the top of the stairwell, trying to keep his smug grin hidden between his lips.
“Yeah, I uh- here, let me show you where they are and I can get you one before we go.” Before Steve or Connie could even muster a word in protest, Javi was already dragging you halfway up the stairs, barely letting you make it to the top of the stairway before closing the bathroom door behind you.
“Band Aid, really? That was the best you could come up with?” Javi laughed under his breath, letting his hands roam down your sides and under the hem of your dress as his fingers dug into the meat of your ass, the heat of his breath tickling your skin where his lips met your neck, gently sucking at your pulse point, making a tiny moan escape from your mouth.
“I needed to come up with something to get you alone for long enough to give you a proper goodbye before you left.”
“And a Band Aid was the way to do that?”
“Oh shut up.” You giggled, draping your arms over Javi’s neck, letting your hands roam through the curls at the nape of his neck before pulling him in tighter to let his lips crash into yours with an electric intensity, his fingertips gripping deeper into your flesh.
“I don’t think-” Javi muttered between kisses, “I don’t think a bandaid is gonna buy us enough time to do anything, Hermosa.”
“I know. I just needed this. Just needed to kiss your stupidly handsome face. I needed something before you left me to fend for myself. Plus,” you paused, pulling back to see the lovestruck grin spread between Javi’s cheeks, “only fair that I get a chance to recreate our first kiss.” You snickered, gesturing to the interior of Maria’s bathroom, where you had found yourself with Javi almost a year ago to the day, your lips meeting for the first time as you sat on the ledge of the sink after Javi had came to your aid when a shattered beer bottle had landed in your leg.
“Fuck, I forgot our first kiss was in Maria’s bathroom. Real fucking smooth of me, huh?” Javi grumbled, rolling his eyes at his past self for letting your first kiss be in the bathroom of his Mom’s best friend’s house.
“Smooth enough for me to wanna marry you, so I guess it all worked out okay, didn’t it?” You teased, planting one last kiss on his lips before shooting him a wink and slipping out the bathroom, your face warm and tingly from the rush of excitement tucked away with Javi in your impromptu makeout session. Javi ran his hand over his face, taking a moment to try and compose himself, shaking his head to himself in shock and delight at how he found himself falling more and more in love with you every day.
“Okay, uh- sorry, sorry about that. Just didn’t wanna have to bother Maria for anything.” You sighed, darting your eyes away from Steve and Connie, their arms crossed against their chest with almost comically smug smirks on their faces as they watched you shuffle back down the stairs, Javi reluctantly trailing behind you.
“Yeah? How’d that bandaid work out for ya?” Steve smiled with a shit eating grin, nodding to your hands, neither of them with a bandaid anywhere in sight. You let out a gulp, trying to quickly tuck your hands behind your back, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. “Goddamn, you two gonna make it 3 hours without touching each other, or am I gonna have to bring him back here after hole 4 for a mid-round makeout?”
“Jesus Christ, Murph, really?.” Javi grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Bye, love you. Have fun and I’ll see you soon.” Leaned over, snaking his arm around your waist to plant one last kiss in your hair.
“Not soon enough, apparently…”
“Murphy…”
“Stop makin’ out and I’ll stop givin’ you shit.”
“Touche…” You muttered under your breath, just loud enough to make the 4 of you burst into laughter, easing the uncomfortable tension that you had brought upon yourself from your antics. “Love you too, have fun getting your ass kicked.”
“Yes, yes, out, out, out! It’s only 10 minutes until guests arrive and your truck is taking up all the room in the driveway! Out!” Stampeding into the living room, Maria waved her hands at the boys, quite literally shooing them out of the house after overhearing your goodbyes. Giving a quick wave to Javi as Maria kicked him and Steve to the curb, you caught Javi’s head whipping around for one last glance at you before you left, giving you a once over with his eyes and a soft smile on his face as the front door shut behind him.
Truth be told, your shower ended up being way less painful than you expected it would be. In all honesty, it was actually somewhat enjoyable. The fact that your mom, co-workers, and Connie had put into helping everyone come together to celebrate you filled your heart with so much more joy than you could have predicted- your friends and family had bought you and Javi so many more gifts than you knew what to do with, had so many kind things to say about the two of you, and Connie had even gone out of her way to make sure that there were fun games planned for everyone to keep the need for constant socialization at bay. It really had ended up being a fun afternoon, even if it meant having to answer the same questions about your wedding, house and honeymoon plans more times than you could count.
Javi, on the other hand, could not have been having a worse time on the golf course, getting his ass thoroughly handed to him by Steve hole after hole, wondering to himself how anyone could bring themself to genuinely enjoy the torture that had been the past two and a half hours of hacking his club into chunks of grass and loosing his golf balls in the brush. The only consoling factor was that Javi was grateful to spend time with Steve, even if it meant being berated by endless questions from him on top of his painful performance while he played.
“You feelin’ ready for the big day?” Steve grunted, after smacking his driver against his ball from the tee box, Javi relieved that the pair were finally on the 9th and final hole.
“Yeah, I mean- Oh fuck me-” Javi grumbled, hitting his club and watching his ball fly into a patch of trees, the opposite direction of where he was trying to aim for, “I still can’t believe I’m getting married.”
“You and me both, Jav. I never thought I’d live to see the fuckin’ day, that’s for damn sure. Javier Peña, a married man.” Steve chuckled, slipping his club into his golf bag as Javi followed behind, grabbing what must have been the 57th golf ball from his bag this round.
“Shut the fuck up, Murph.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at his friends’ jab, the two of them hopping into the golf cart together to try and scavenge for Javi’s long lost ball.
“I’m just given’ you shit, Jav. I’m fuckin’ happy for you man. Really happy. She’s a great girl. Best thing that’s ever happened to your sorry ass, I’ll tell you that much. Guess you don’t have to worry about really followin’ through this time?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re actually gonna get married this time? You’re not leavin’ her at the altar like Lorraine, huh?” As Steve laughed to himself, Javi could practically feel his stomach drop, his heart beginning to race as a wave of terrible guilt and panic washed over him at his friend’s ironic question.
To his own shock and surprise, Javi hadn’t thought about his last lack of a wedding once since the two of you had gotten engaged. He had been so head over heels excited to spend the rest of his life with you, that the failures of his past engagement had been tucked far away in the back of his mind. But then again, no one had been so gracious as to bring up the knife to the chest that was leaving Lorraine at the altar, and no one had been so gracious as to bring it up in classic Steve Murphy fashion.
Javi could audibly hear himself gulp, his heartbeat pounding so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears as the terrible reality of the past he had so glady forgotten about met him in a head on collision, instantly re-opening all of the cuts and wounds he had finally managed to sew together.
The last time he almost got married, Javier Peña had astronomically fucked up the lives of every last person who cared about him, leaving nothing but chaos and heartbreak in his wake.
Rationally, Javi could tell himself that his upcoming wedding was the polar opposite of everything that was once planned between him and Lorraine. Javi couldn’t have cared less about Lorraine. From the moment he had wearily accepted his fate, he had dreaded every moment of his future from that point on. But you were not Lorraine.
Javi loved you.
Javi cared about you.
Javi wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you and give you everything in the world you could possibly want.
But, one mention of that 8 letter name had Javi’s brain flooding with every single doubt, regret, and painful memory of his past that he had fought so hard to forget. It had his mind reeling with every uncomfortable feeling of remembering the man he had been before you had come into his life and changed him for the better. He knew he was a better man. A stronger man. A man who was worthy of the love and compassion you had shown him from the moment you two had met.
Or was he?
“Earth to Javi? Hello? Anyone home?” Waving his hand in front of Javi’s face, Steve stared at Javi in confusion as to why it seemed like his friend had suddenly become lost in his own world as they pulled up to the patch of trees where his ball had most likely landed.
“Uh yeah, uh- what, sorry, um, what did you say?” Javi asked, visibly trying to shake the thoughts from his head, painfully scrunching his face and running his hand through his hair before looking back over at Steve.
“I asked if you were gonna go get the ball or if you just wanted to add to your +200 score and drop one here instead. Hey, you okay, man?” Steve questioned, pausing for a moment before asking the later half of his statement, seeing the color flushed from Javi’s face.
“Uh, yeah- Yeah, sorry, I just, I’m good. I’ll um, I’ll just drop a ball.” Javi muttered half to himself as he stepped out of the cart, barely paying attention enough to even remember what in the world he was even looking for in his golf bag.
If Javi wasn’t already thankful to be on the last hole before Steve’s comment, he sure as hell was now, mindlessly whacking his golf club with no regard as to how his ball made it to the green. Any thoughts about golf, let alone any previous attempts to even try to play well had now flown out the window, creeping thoughts of self doubt and resentment crawling through Javi’s mind. The rest of the round and the entire car ride back to Maria’s were spent in an internal battle ranging in Javi’s brain, the fight between the man he used to be and the man he’d thought he’d become rearing its ugly head with a painful intensity that absolutely felt like it was consuming him whole.
Steve, who was just as oblivious to his friend’s distraught state as he was to the idiocracy of his sarcastic question, had chalked Javi’s quiet and somber mood up to being an overly sore loser after getting mercilessly crushed at golf. Little did he know that his one silly comment had sent Javi spiraling down a trail of crushing self-doubt.
As the pair pulled into the driveway and made their way to the backyard where a few straggling party goers still lingered, trying to monopolize their time with you to get the details of your upcoming plans for the future. Being the attentive and patient person that you were, you were trying your hardest to seem enthused and engaged with in the conversation with who you thought was Javi’s Aunt’s Cousin (at this point, you had been introduced to so many new people, you were questioning your own name), but it wasn’t long before your future husband’s big, broad body entering the backyard had you more than distracted, your face instantly lighting up at the sight of him. Peeking over his Aunt’s cousin (or cousin’s aunt, you weren’t really sure) shoulder, you bit down on your lip to try and contain your excitement, letting a little wave shake from your hand in his direction.
Javi wished that your sweet smile and beautiful self were enough to snap him out of his funk, to see how you beamed in excitement just at the sight of him and shot him that lovestruck look he’d never get sick of- but for some twisted reason, it only made him feel worse.
You were everything- kind, smart, funny, the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen. But what was he? Tired? Broken? A shitty guy who had done even shitter things, who had left nothing but destruction in his path for years and years, with no regard for who it hurt, or even worse, left for dead? How was he supposed to give you everything you deserved when he sure as fuck didn’t deserve you?
Before you had even said a word to him, you could already sense something was off about Javi’s demeanor that was due to more than just losing to Steve in golf. Even from across the backyard, his forced smile and tired brown eyes had a worried pit swirling in the bottom of your stomach, politely excusing yourself from your conversation to make your way over to Javi.
“Hi! You guys have fun at golf? Steve didn’t kick your ass too bad?” You grinned, wrapping your arms around Javi’s waist, pressing up on your toes to plant a kiss on his lips, his mouth barely ghosting over yours in return.
“Yeah, it was um- yeah, it was fine.” Javi nodded, trying to make a smile appear between his pursed lips. “How was the shower? You uh, you ready for Steve and I to start putting things in the truck to bring over to the new house?”
You immediately frowned in response, cocking your head in confusion at him. “Yeah, it was great, but hey, are- are you okay? You seem really off, like more than just Steve kicking your ass at golf off. Did something happen?”
“No, I’m- yeah, I’m good, Hermosa.” Javi’s eyes darted towards the ground, trying his best to stifle his sigh before another fake smile spread across his face, his response making you even more concerned than you were before, seeing he was clearly lying to you. As much as you wanted to problem solve right then and there to figure out what had Javi so distressed, the calls of one of the last groups of party goers wanting to say their goodbyes rang across the backyard, you flashing them a quick smile and a wave to signal you’d be over in a second. Before you could try and get anything else out of Javi, he had already backed himself away from your hands still tangled around his waist, nodding towards the group of women who were not so patiently waiting for you. “Go say goodbye, I’ll start loading stuff up.”
“Um, I- uh, yeah, o-okay. Thanks.” You murmured, half to yourself, as Javi had already begun to walk away to find Steve to help him start carrying things out to the car, leaving you more anxious and confused with every passing second.
With goodbyes finished, and decor and party setup cleaned up just as fast as Maria had demanded it to be put up, you and Javi made your way to your now packed car, followed by Connie and Steve, who had asked to see the progress on your new house while they were in town. You figured you’d kill two birds with one stone, inviting them over and having them help to unload gifts in the same trip, but now, given the strangely somber mood that Javi couldn’t seem to shake, you really wished it was just the two of you so you could figure out what the hell was going on.
You and Javi piled into his truck, Steve and Connie hopping into theirs and following you down Maria’s street towards your new house. A stark silence filled the car, praying to yourself that maybe Javi just wanted to be alone before he said anything about his current state, but 5 minutes down the road without a single word falling from his lips, you had a devastating feeling that wasn’t going to be the case.
Your leg bounced against the seat, fingers nervously drumming in your lap, letting out a quiet sigh to yourself before looking over at Javi and mustering up the courage to try and interrogate.
“Sooooo, golf was fun? I love ya, but I think it’s probably safe to assume Steve won?” You quietly snickered, trying your best to stay nonchalant.
“Yeah, it was good, Steve won, but that’s no surprise because I suck at golf.” Javi mumbled to himself, barely glancing your direction from behind the yellow tinted aviators perched on the bridge of his nose. Normally, if either of you had something that self-deprecating to say, it was at least followed by some sort of a joke or laugh, but his comment ended with nothing but a stoic silence as his hands gripped tighter around the steering wheel.
“Hey, babe, it’s okay, you don’t ever golf, so it’s hard to expect yourself to be good at something you rarely ever do.” You reached over to grab his arm to reassure him, that unsettling and anxious pit beginning to grow in your stomach again with the way Javi was acting. All he could muster was a half hearted huff in response, signaling to you that whatever was happening was much bigger than a poor game of golf.
“Javi… Baby, what’s going on? Did something happen with Steve?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s clearly not nothing, Jav. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, I told you, it’s fine.”
“Javi, it obviously isn’t fine if this is the way you’re acting about it. Why won’t you talk to me about it? I just wanna-”
“I told you, it’s fine, okay!? Jesus, I don’t need you to solve all my problems.”
Oh.
You and Javi had been in arguments before, hell, you’d been in fights before, but never once in the time that you’d known him, had Javi snapped at you like this. You could practically feel yourself recoiling in your seat from the harsh tone of his voice, fighting back the tears that had instantly begun welling in your eyes. You could feel your heart in your throat, choking down a heavy gulp as your lip quivered to try and keep from crying.
What had gone so wrong that Javi was acting like this?
You wish you had it in you to dig it out of him, but as you pulled up the driveway of your new home, Steve and Connie right behind you, ready for a tour, the best you could muster was a quiet, “O-okay.” As soon as the car was in park, Javi was unbuckling his seatbelt and slamming the door behind him, leaving you behind in the car, trying everything in your power to not become a startled, sobbing mess.
Wiping away the wetness pooling behind your eyelids, you swiped the back of your hand against your cheeks, taking a few deep breaths before following behind, mustering up as much courage as you could to keep your cool for however long Steve and Connie were planning to stick around before heading back to San Antonio.
You had hoped that Steve and Connie hadn't picked up on the palpable tension brewing between you and Javi, trying your best to put on a brave face as you paraded the Murphy’s through your nearly completed house. To be quite honest, you couldn’t have recalled anything that had happened in the time that they were there, your mind racing in torment as you watched Javi brood around your new home, barely saying a word to you, let alone make any eye contact, or look in your general direction.
As the four of you made your way upstairs, your attention was finally caught by the low lull of Steve’s laughter as he situated himself between you and Javi, grabbing you both by the shoulders and shaking you in his grasp.
“Well I’ll be damned. Y’all got enough rooms up here to house half a baseball team! You want that many kids driving ya nuts, huh?” Steve chuckled, making his way down the hallway, peeking into the empty bedrooms of your 2nd story.
“Steve!” Connie scolded, slapping the back of her hand against Steve’s stomach for his comment.
“What?! I’m just sayin’! I thought y’all would want like, 2, but there’s enough room for way more than that. I mean, I guess you two are fuckin’ goin’ at it like rabbits all the time, so I can’t really be shocked.”
“Steven Edward Murphy! Jesus Christ!” Connie snapped, shooting Steve a dangerous glare, aggressively raising an eyebrow at her husband as she gestured towards you and Javi.
“No, it’s okay, we don’t know for sure how many we want, but we figured if we had the space we’d add the rooms and even if they’re not bedrooms, they’ll still get used.” You had it in you enough to force a half smile across your face, flashing it at Steve and Connie before looking over at Javi.
While you hadn’t expected much of a response from him given the current situation, what you weren’t expecting was the panic stricken look painting Javi from head to toe.
If you weren’t already worried out of your mind about what the fuck was going on with Javi, you sure as fuck were now.
“Uh, I um- yeah.”
Those were the only words Javi was able to choke out through the audible thumps pounding in his chest as his face went ghost white, eyes peeled to the ground.
“See, Steve? You’re making them uncomfortable! You have absolutely no filter, I swear! I’m so sorry, you guys!” Connie frantically apologized, giving Steve another hardy slap in the stomach, making him wince.
“I’m just jokin’, Jesus Christ, sorry!” Steve grumbled, holding up his hands in defense from his wife’s accusation, sheepishly looking over at you and Javi with a little shrug.
“No, it’s uh- no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You had given up on trying to be convincing at this point, your voice quietly shaking as you stared at Javi, now looking like a terrified, ragged shell of himself.
What the fuck was going on? Did Javi want to wait to have kids? Did he not want to have that many? Was he having second thoughts about kids all together? Fuck, was he having second thoughts about getting married? He’s literally never acted like this before. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You were sure at this point, you probably looked just as much of a mess as Javi did, letting your thoughts race wildly throughout your brain, the silence now lingering between the four of you now seemed to feel deafening, Connie beginning to pick up on the uneasiness festering between you and Javi and knowing she had enough common sense for her and Steve to pick up her cue to see herself out.
“Well, still, I’m sorry. We should probably get going anyways, we told the sitter we’d be back around 6 so we should probably hit the road. Thank you so much for the tour! The shower was beautiful and I’m so glad I could be there for it. We’ll see you guys for the big day soon! Just let me know if you need any help with wedding stuff between now and then okay?”
“Uh yeah, yeah of course. Thanks for all your help, Con. I’ll um- I’ll let you know if we need anything.” You stammered as Connie pulled you in for a hug goodbye, followed quickly by Steve, who planted a few pats on your back mid hug.
“Bye sweetheart, thanks for letting me steal this asshole for golf today. See y’all when you’re gettin’ ready to get hitched! Adios, loser.” Steve chuckled as he pulled away from your hug to tug Javi into another, giving him an even harder pat on the back before letting Connie say her goodbyes as well.
“Do you want me to walk you guys down to your-”
“Nah, we’ll find our way out, no worries. Bye lovebirds, see ya soon.” Steve grinned, giving the both of you one last wave farewell before disappearing down the stairs, their hushed bickers about Steve’s unnecessary comments quietly trailing behind them. Before you could even get a word out to Javi now that the two of you were alone, he was already halfway down the stairs behind the Murphy’s, not even bothering to look back at you as he mumbled under his breath.
“I’m gonna get the gifts out of the car and go sit outside.”
“Jav, wait, I-”
You could feel the lump beginning to swell in your throat, your bottom lip trembling with tears welling in your eyes as you watched Javi storm down the stairs without even so much as an attempt to care about what you had to say, leaving you with nothing but yourself and 5 empty bedrooms that now had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your future with Javi. You felt your body begin to collapse like a sad pile of jello as you melted into a sobbing puddle on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest as you cried into the flowy fabric of your dress, leaving wet stains behind from your tears. Your breaths were rapid and shaky with each muffled sob, trying to rationally grasp on to something, anything, as to why Javi was acting this way. But the more the gears frantically turned in your brain, the more irrational and terrifying your thoughts became.
This all happened so fucking fast. It’s only been a year since I’ve known him. Is he realizing it’s too much? Am I too much? This was all too fucking good to be true, wasn’t it, you fucking idiot.
Taking a few more minutes to collect yourself enough to at least stop full on sobbing, you wiped your wet cheeks with the back of your palm, inhaling a trembling deep breath as you mustered up every ounce of courage you could find to face whatever fate was waiting for you downstairs with Javi.
Each step down the stairs felt heavier than the last, leaving your fingers anxiously drumming against your legs as you saw Javi’s broad body hunched over the side of the unfinished back patio, staring out to the tall grass of your backyard swaying in the warm summer breeze. If it were any other time, you would have rushed up behind him, wrapping your body around his back and attacking him with kisses until the two of you were wound up in a fit of laughter and giggles, happily tangled in each other's bodies.
Right now, you were terrified to even step too close to him.
Carefully and quietly sliding open the glass door to the porch, you prayed with every bone in your body you weren’t going to do anything that set Javi off enough to even let you attempt to have a conversation with him about what was going on. The new wood softly creaked under your shoes, making Javi turn his head just enough to acknowledge your presence as you wearily approached him. Taking one more deep breath, you opened your mouth to speak, but with your jaw hanging open, Javi’s words filled the stark silence before yours could.
“I don’t know if we should get married.”
Fuck.
You could practically feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, like the weight of 1,000 bricks had been dropped on your body all at once, hearing that come out of his mouth. You could have mentally tried to brace yourself for a lot of things, but hearing Javi tell you he didn't want to get married anymore sure as hell wasn't one of them.
“Javi, I- baby, what- I don’t- I don’t-”
“Why the fuck do you even wanna marry me?”
Your brows scrunched in pain and confusion at the sharp tone of his words, desperate to try and understand what point he was trying to prove in this gut wrenching game he seemed to be playing.
“Because I- Javi, I- Javi I love you, that’s why.” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you sat down next to him on the edge of the porch, leaning over enough to see the tears glistening down his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to stifle the sobs rumbling in his chest. He shook his head back and forth before his gaze fell into his lap.
“You shouldn’t love me.”
“Javi��� what the fuck are you talking about?” you plead, feeling the pain and hurt creeping through your body as you watched the tears he was so desperately trying to fight. With a scornful scoff, Javi shook his head, pressing against his knees to stand, taking a few paces around the porch, burying his hands in his face, his words muffled and muted by his palms covering his mouth.
“What the fuck am I- I’m not- I’m not what you deserve. I don’t understand how you don’t fucking see that.”
You followed suit, bringing yourself to stand with your arms crossed tightly across your chest, staring at Javi in bewilderment, biting down on your tongue so hard to keep from bursting into tears you thought you were going to make it bleed. You could feel the storm of pain, anger and confusion brewing deep in the pit of your stomach, your body numb and mind blank.
“Javier. What the fuck is going on? I don’t understand why-”
“Because last time I was gonna get married I fucked up everything. For everyone. I hurt everyone I cared about. I went half way around the world and I spent a decade fucking things up even more. How do you know I’m not gonna fuck everything up again? I love you too much to let it happen to you. The thought of ever hurting you even half as I much as I’ve hurt anyone else because of my choices fucking kills me. I can’t do it. I can’t hurt you like I’ve hurt everyone else. I’d never fucking forgive myself. I love you more than anything, Osita. I love you more than anything in the world. You deserve someone who isn’t going to hurt you. Someone who will do right by you, by your family, your future children, I just- fuck- I don’t think that person can be me.”
A deafening silence hung in the air as you stared blankly at Javi, tears streaming from his tormented brown eyes, his body trembling with devastation and regret. You had no doubt your body mirrored his as the guilt and heartbreak flooded you from head to toe, wondering how in the world you had ever let the man you loved and cared about more than anything feel like he wasn’t enough for you.
You wished you could speak- to find the words to tell him that he was your everything, the glue that had put you back together when you were convinced there was nothing else that could mend the broken mess that you had become. You wished you could express to him that there was no one on the face of this earth that you would rather spend the rest of your life with than him- that there was no one else you wanted by your side through every moment of your life, the good, the bad and the ugly, more than him. You wished there was a way to tell him that you loved him more than anything, but in that moment, all you could do was grab him and wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing him as tightly as your body would let you, letting your wet face rest against the familiar warmth of his chest as you whispered into the soft fabric of his shirt.
“Javier Peña, you’re the only person it could be.”
You could feel his chest begin to rumble with heavy sobs as his arms draped around you, pulling you against his body so closely, it was like his life depended on it, like he couldn’t bear the thought of ever letting you go again. One arm stayed wrapped around your back as the other slid up the back of your neck, his broad palm cradling your head in his grasp, his fingers practically digging into your skin to keep you close as the two of you let yourselves do nothing but hold each other in your teary silence.
You let one of your hands reach up towards Javi’s face, cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze back on to you, as your thumb traced back and forth along his cheek, wiping away the wetness that had been welling in his eyes.
“I need you to listen to me, okay?” You asked, waiting until you felt Javi’s head gently nod up and down in understanding in your palm before you continued, “The man you were before doesn’t scare me. If it did, I would have been gone a long time ago. The man you were before has turned you into the man that you’ve become. The man that I want to spend everyday with for the rest of my life. Every good day, every bad day, every painful, hard and shitty day, and every day in between. And I promise that I will spend every last one of those days until the day I die trying my best to convince you that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And if I die trying, then so be it. I love you, Javi. Don’t you ever think for a second that there is anyone out there that I want to spend the rest of my life with more than you, and I won’t ever let you forget it.”
It was only moments before both of Javi’s hands were cradling your face, gently trembling as they cupped your soft, wet skin as you locked eyes with his, watching his face shift from terrified to bewildered, thinking he must have misheard what you had just said to him.
“Osita, I-”
“Promise me.”
“Promise you what?”
“Promise me that you believe me. Promise me that you know I love you more than anything.”
There was a part of Javi’s brain that wished he could find something to prove that he couldn’t. To prove he wasn’t worthy of keeping the promise you had made to him. To convince himself that he had no reason to believe he was worthy of the love you had given him.
But the truth was, for the first time that he could remember, as he looked down at you, the woman who had taken his life and forever changed it for the better, who had helped to heal him in ways he didn’t know he needed, who had cared for him in ways he never thought he deserved, and who had stood by him even as you learned about the ugliest parts of him he never thought he’d forgive himself for, Javier Peña finally realized he had learned what it was like to be worthy of love.
You had made him realize he was worthy of being loved.
A small gulp slid down his throat between his shaky breaths, taking a moment to soak in everything about you, before letting his lips ghost across yours as a quiet whisper left his mouth.
“I promise.”
And just like that, his lips crashed into yours with a ferocious and tender passion, soaking in every ounce of the sweet flavor of you, a taste he knew he would never tire of, one that he craved like nothing else.
“I love you, Osita. Fuck, I love you so much.” Javi moaned between your kisses, praying with every bone in his body you knew how much he meant it.
“I love you too, Javi.” The hot breath of your words danced across his lips before they were crashing together once again, his tongue swiping between your parted mouths as he ran his hand down your back and around your waist, pulling you so close you were convinced your bodies were going to melt into one as you pressed against his broad chest, now needily grasping at fist fulls of his shirt.
In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how much you loved them. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how hopelessly he craved you, too.
With your bodies still tangled together, your kisses became messier and sloppier as you backed your way towards the door that lead inside, stumbling and trampling over each other’s feet without any regard for where you were headed until you felt your back bump against the kitchen island, the rounded edges of the countertop stopping you in your tracks as Javi caged you between his broad figure and the island.
Both of your hands were now feverishly roaming across each other’s bodies before Javi had run his hands down your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the countertop, planting hot, wet kisses across your neck and collarbone while his fingers crept under the hem of your dress, his palms sliding up and down your legs, digging his fingers into your flesh.
“Javi…” You whimpered, letting your eyes close and head fall back as he sucked at your pulse point, leaving you with one hand bracing yourself against the edge of the counter and the other with your fingers wrapped around the navy fabric of Javi’s shirt, clinging on for dear life.
You eyes opened, and gaze shifted downwards as you felt Javi pull away from your grasp, watching him drop to his knees, slotting himself between your parted legs and kissing the inside of your thighs while his hands tugged at the waistband of your already soaked underwear, hastily shuffling them to fall down your legs and pool at your ankles. His needy kisses up your thighs crept closer and closer to your core as your legs draped over his shoulders, kneeling before you like you were the altar of everything he worshiped as his deep brown eyes looked up at yours, like he was begging for forgiveness for his sins.
“I’m so sorry, Osita. I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. Fuck, I love you so much. Let me show me how much I love you. Please, baby. Please let me show you how much I need to be yours.”
Your response was nothing but a ragged moan as you felt his hot breath hovering over your cunt before letting long, flat licks of his tongue drag through your folds, each swipe pressing firmer than the last, lapping up the arousal dripping from your entrance like a sweet nectar. With one hand still white knuckling the edge of the countertop, the other shot down to bury itself in the dark curls of Javi’s thick locks, tugging at ends to find some place to ease your tension as he began to flick and swirl his tongue relentlessly against your clit, lapping you up like a man starved.
“Oh fuck Javi- fuck- you feel so good, baby.” You moaned, raking your fingers along Javi’s scalp as you watched his head bob nestled between your legs, feeling the low hum of satisfaction thrumming in his throat as he began to suck your sensitive bundle of nerves, latching his lips around your clit as his mouth worked feverishly against your cunt. You could already feel the tingle beginning to grow at the base of your spine and spread to your legs as Javi found every sweet spot that he knew made you lose all control, desperate to make you feel how much he needed your love and forgiveness.
“That’s it, sweet girl. Let go for me baby, I’ve got you.” Javi hummed before diving back between your legs, tightening his grip around your thighs as his tongue danced around your clit relentlessly. It wasn’t long before you could feel your orgasm begin to flood your body, pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, a death grip clutching around the counter and Javi’s dark locks. Javi worked you through your high, drinking up the juices of your slick as you came, feeling your legs tremble as they stayed slung over his broad shoulders, not stopping until your body was shaking and your whimpers and moans had become so wrecked, he had no choice but to stop to relish in the blissed out, dripping mess he had made you. He would have loved to stay like this forever, watching you become more and more wrecked beneath his tongue, the want, no, need, to be buried inside your heat, getting lost in your wetness and warmth, savoring in the way no one else would ever be able to have you like he did, to know that you were his.
Javi worked in a determined silence, rusting with his belt buckle until the metal clangs of it opening had his pants and boxers in a puddle around his ankles, splaying kisses across your neck as he slid you towards the edge of the counter, his fingers digging into your hips with a bruising intensity. He stroked himself a few times as he lined his cock up with your entrance, guiding his tip through the glistening arousal covering your folds, leaving his dick shiny with your slick as you whimpered into his skin.
“Javi… Please, baby. I need you.” You whimpered, instinctively bucking your hips towards him, desperately craving him to ease the achy emptiness between your legs.
Resting his forehead against yours, the dark, damp curls of his hair brushed your skin, the hot and heavy heat of each of your shaky breaths melting into one another’s as your lips ghosted his, only fully meeting yours to catch the moan that had escaped your mouth as he pushed himself into your heat, letting himself bottom out, his tip brushing against your cervix. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around the small of his back and drape your arms over his shoulders, desperate to have your bodies needily tangled and intertwined together as you savored in the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness.
He began to rock his hips, letting his cock drag in and out of your cunt, taking his time with each stroke, the movement making you dig your fingernails into the fabric of his shirt stretched over his muscular back, in turn, making the grip he had around your waist even tighter, his fingers buried in the soft flesh of your stomach where his hands had crept under your dress.
The way he punched up into you, perfectly pounding against your g-spot with each thrust, combined with the way the hairs at his base rubbed along your clit, already had the inevitable coil beginning to tighten in your belly. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him.
Each stroke seemed to become deeper and fuller than the last, Javi’s pace now climbing in speed and intensity as he felt your cunt clench tighter and tighter around his cock, knowing that familiar feeling meant you were coming closer to your end. You could barely muster anything but a whimper, your soft pleads and begs going straight to his dick as he slid and out of your wet heat.
“Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”
The lewd sounds of skin hitting skin and low, ragged moans echoed against the bare walls of your unfinished kitchen as Javi fucked deeper and deeper into you, singing sweet, soft praises against your skin between locking your lips with yours.
“Fuck- Dámelo, Hermosa (Give it to me, beautiful). Need to feel you soak my cock before I fuck you full of me. It’s okay mi amor- mierda- té tengo. (my love- shit- I’ve got you.) I’ve always got you. Forever.”
You could feel your legs lock even tighter around Javi’s waist as heat began to bloom in your belly, only needing a few more thrusts as you rolled your hips against his before your mind went blank and vision went white, your orgasm crashing through your body and flooding every inch of you with pleasure so intense, you could feel yourself going limp in his grasp.
“Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god-ahhhhhhhh-” You whimpered as Javi fucked you through your high, now desperate to chase his own as his thrusts became rushed and sloppy, pounding into you as your walls gripped around his cock like a vice. Your warmth and wetness consumed him, only needing a few more pumps before he could feel himself following suit, hissing through gritted teeth as incoherent babbles spilled from his lips.
“There it is, baby. Fuck- fuck, you’re so fucking perfect. I love you so much, Osita. Con todo mi corazón. (With my whole heart). Oh fuck- I’m yours forever. Oh shit, I’m gonna cum to, oh fuckkkkkk.”
With one last thrust, Javi finished buried deep inside you, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls as a slick mixture of spend leaked down your thighs, leaving him panting while he slumped into your shoulder, his chest heaving with labored breaths, trying to compose himself. Bracing himself with one palm flat against the counter next to your hip, his other hand reached up to your face, brushing away a piece of stray hair back into place before gently cupping your cheek as he spoke.
“Osita, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I just- fuck- I’ve never been so sure of anything, but when we were at golf today, Steve brought up Lorraine, and I- I just was so scared I was gonna fuck everything up again, and I-”
“Oh God, he brought up Lorraine?! Jesus. I knew it. I knew this was Steve’s fucking fault.” You sighed, quietly laughing to yourself as you shook your head.
“Wait, how did you-”
“Because it just seemed so strange that you were acting like this all of a sudden. You got back from golfing with him and it was like you were a different person. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I was freaked out and panicking wondering what happened because you’ve never acted like that before. That, and because I love Steve, but he’s an idiot.” The two of you were both now laughing, Javi rubbing his hand over his face before rolling his eyes, wondering to himself how he had really let his friend’s stupid comment get the best of him.
“I’m so sorry, Osita. I should have just ignored it, I just hadn’t thought about it in so long and I was so terrified to mess everything up again. It would kill me to hurt you like that.” His thumb circled around your cheek as he tilted your gaze to meet his, sincerity and remorse swirling in the dark pools of his chocolate brown eyes.
“Javi, listen, if this is moving too fast, or it’s too much for you, I want you to be able to tell me, I understand if-” Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s lips were planted tenderly against yours, pulling away from your mouth with a goofy grin and satisfied sigh.
“I promise you, I’ve never wanted anything more. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t wait to marry you,” he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek, “I can’t wait to live in our new house with you,” he grinned, planting another ticklish kiss on your neck, “I can’t wait until we can finally start filling up these empty rooms with little baby Peñas” Javi chuckled, now peppering kisses all over your body, making you erupt in a fit of laughter and giggles, squirming and flailing in his grasp, playfully swatting at him. “I can’t wait to spend every day for the rest of my life with the most beautiful, amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He smirked, tilting his head to let your mouths meet again, this kiss filled with a tender passion and intensity unmatched by his previous playful ones.
It was the kind of kiss that said all of the things that words couldn’t. The kind of kiss that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach like the first kiss you had shared in Maria’s bathroom almost a year ago. The kind of kiss that made you fall even deeper in love with him, even when you thought you couldn’t.
It was also the kind of kiss where everything else in the world seemed to melt away and make time stand still, a kiss that you could have stayed lost in forever… unless a certain someone hadn’t forgotten his wallet at your house and needed to come back and get it.
You were so oblivious to anything else happening around you, that neither you or Javi had heard your front door open, followed by the rushed, impatient footsteps of Steve and Connie, arguing about where Steve could have left his wallet, and how on earth he could have left without realizing it was missing from its usual home in his back pocket.
“Seriously, Steve, I can’t believe we’re gonna waste a whole hour having to turn around and come back here because you couldn’t remember your wallet!”
“Con, I told you, it’s right on the counter, I know where it is, lemme just go grab it really quick and then we ca- Oh Jesus fucking Christ!” Steve shouted, walking into the kitchen to see you and Javi making out on your island, your dress pushed up well past your legs, and Javi’s bare ass on display from his pants still pooling around his ankles.
“Ahhhhh!” You and Javi shrieked, practically jumping out of your skin to see Steve’s tall and lanky frame frozen in your kitchen, now scrambling to try and fix your clothes and hair to try and save yourselves at least some dignity.
“What the hell are you two doin’?!” Steve grimaced, trying not to cackle to himself as Connie rushed up behind him to see what was happening, only to very quickly cover her eyes and turn away from you and Javi.
“Us?! What the hell are you doing here? Jesus, you ever heard of fucking knocking, Murph?!” Javi groaned, shuffling his pants back up and fixing his hair before helping you off the counter, trying your best to hide your beet red, embarrassed face.
“I forgot my wallet! Forgive me for thinkin’ you two would keep your hands off each other for long enough to let me come pick it up in peace.” Steve frowned, raising up his hands in defense.
“I’m sorry! I told him to call you to let you know he was coming to pick it up, but he seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal.” Connie scolded, giving Steve a forceful nudge of her elbow before finally turning back around to face you and Javi, knowing you were at least halfway decent. “God, I love you, but you are an idiot.”
“You can say that again…” You snickered under your breath, just loud enough to make Javi and Connie join in your laughter, leaving Steve with his arms crossed over his chest, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“Hey, listen. Call me what you want, but I don’t think you’ll be callin’ me an idiot when you need me to come babysit your 47 kids so the two of you can get some…” He paused gesturing to you and Javi’s disheveled state, “... time to yourselves. Like I said earlier, y’all gotta lot of rooms to fill, and I don’t think you’re gonna have any problem doin’ it.”
And for as much as you wanted to give Steve the ten pounds of shit he deserved, as you looked up at Javi standing next to you, you couldn’t really even bring yourself to be mad. Because in the end, the only thing that mattered was him- the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. The one who was your future, the one who stood with you through every twist and turn, the one who was your home. What started as a day that had you questioning everything had turned into one that had never made you feel more assured. You knew that Javier Peña loved you more than life itself, and you knew that you were so lucky to spend the rest of your life getting to prove to him over and over that you loved him just as much.
Taglist:
@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#javier peña#javi peña x reader#javi pena#javier pena#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena narcos#javier pena smut#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña smut#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal narcos#pedro pascal character#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pascalispunk#pedro pascal fandom
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i've had this au idea for a while and have tried writing it but i don't get far into it before abandoning it so ill post it in case someone else wants to write it or take some inspiration from it or what have you. s4ep1/2 au.
merlin uses his magic to just latch arthur's feet to the ground as well as lancelot's when he sees him creeping towards the veil. merlin turns to face them as he walks backwards, revealing his gold eyes and magic to arthur which barely registers in his mind as he understands what merlin's doing and Panics. he's yelling and almost begging and demanding merlin to get back here you idiot. i'm the king you listen to me
and merlin just smiles and is like when have i ever listened to you? and steps into the veil, sacrificing himself and closing it. with his death, his magic releases arthur and lancelot who are just like. what the fuck. and grief-stricken. and angry. anyways they go back to camelot and lancelot stays with gwen and they mourn together. gwaine is. a wreck. the knights are all grieving. arthur is just. gone. like. he closes himself in his chambers for like two weeks. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he can barely function. anyways merlin watches him from the veil as a spirit, he watches all of them and is a little guilty about causing them so much grief and heart ache but he rather them be sad and alive than dead so he doesn't regret it that much
magic lore i made up - since merlin gave his life in an exchange, he gets to remain conscious and aware within the veil. the other spirits that roam around are focused on whatever's keeping them there (and keeping them from moving on to the afterlife). there's a lot of sorcerers in camelot who are angry and crying because they were executed by uther - their heads cut off, their bodies charred, or their necks bent at odd angles. they wander around calling for justice. anyways ygraine's life was also taken in an exchange so what i'm saying is ygraine and merlin best friends arc.
they both watch over arthur with worry and then one day arthur just storms out of his chambers and down to the library and buries himself in books, searching desperately for a way to bring merlin back. with how little he's eating and sleeping, arthur ends up passing out and has a nightmare. merlin reaches out on instinct wishing to comfort him and ends up getting pulled into his dreams, only with his intention being to comfort, his arrival shifts the dream from a nightmare into something a lot more pleasant - merlin and arthur together and alive and...courting? it looks like? arthur leans in to kiss him but the dream dissipates right before their lips meet.
anyways, that happens a few times with a few different dreams as arthur searches for a way to open the veil again and bring merlin back. i have two different endings for this though. one is, since merlin is emrys and immortal, after some time the cailleach comes back and is like "immortal asshole. i took some of your eternal life force but you're still immortal but the veil is still sealed. i can't keep someone who still has all this life. get out." and just pushes him out of the veil and into his body again. OR arthur finds a way to bargain with the cailleach and sees his mother with merlin and bada bing bada boom (i forgot to add that arthur at some point finds out about his uncles treachery lmao) trades agravaine's life for ygraine's and then his father's (he can't stand to see his father wasting away and sees this peaceful death as mercy) for merlin's. and he gets his mom and bf best friend manservant back.
after everything settles down, arthur finally has time to focus on merlin's magic but with the trauma of almost losing him, he finds he really can't care about it and just repeals the ban to keep from even thinking about executing him so merlin will never be in danger again. ygraine is also happy about this bc i hc she had a little bit of magic. she learned from her gf nimueh. bonus hc bc i feel like it - ygraine and uther were married and loved each other, yes, but ygraine took nimueh as her consort and uther took balinor as his consort.
okay thats all. if anyone actually writes this or anything similar to it, it'd love to read it. pls tag me or dm me <3
#bbc merlin#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#fanfiction#fanfic#merthur#fic ideas#prompts#ygraine pendragon#ygraine de bois#cailleach#s4ep1 the darkest hour#s4ep2 the darkest hour#lancelot lives and we get gwencelot#haha merlin and arthur are so happy to be reunited and have wild sex#after a bath#merlins been watching arthur from the veil for a while#he knows that mf REEKS#also he wants to take care of him again#he forces him to eat and bathe before fucking him to sleep#okay okay im sorry im done
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𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
Trent Alexander-Arnold x reader
Word count: 6.2k
Summary: Trent would do everything for his daughter even if it's out of his comfort-zone but maybe something, or someone can make it more bearable.
Warnings: Single parent, talk about non-present parents, horses, angst, smut, fluff, dad!trent, young pregnancy (19/20)
Notes: I don't know but this idea just came to me randomly when I was in the stables and I just find it funny to see these out of place parents, especially dads so yeah. Random but fun to write
Being a single parent wasn't always easy. Trent found it hard to be as present as possible, to spend as much time with his daughter as he wanted and still succeed in his football career. It took a lot of time, effort and help but he managed well, being the best dad possible and still develop in his football. It took a toll on him but he wouldn't trade it for the world.
Since he had been a little kid football had been his life, his goal and the only thing that mattered. For so long it was all that consumed his life, until Ella came along. It was never the plan, never his intention after the one-night stand he'd had but it happened and after a rocky year he had full custody of his baby.
After that his priorities changed because he was no longer alone, he couldn't be selfish anymore, he couldn't think about himself because he had a little girl at home. A little girl relying on him for food, comfort and love and suddenly, she was what mattered the most.
Less to say Trent didn't have a lot of free-time, already juggling more than the time could wrap up but he didn't really miss anything, he felt complete. The only thing he sometimes missed was dating. Going out was nowadays almost impossible, even though his brothers and parents tried to help out and babysit as much as they could he didn't feel fine with leaving her in their responsibility too long knowing they already helped out more than they should. Trent hadn't dated someone in what felt like years nor had he gotten any action regurarly. He didn't mind it, but he could miss it some days. Not only the sex but the social life outside of his work. That's why it felt like a blessing when Ella got older and he had to engage in some of her free-time activities. It wasn't like before of course, this was mothers and fathers with their kids not drunk idiots in a club in some VIP-room. But it was still some kind of social life, some people he could talk to and sometimes hang out with outside of the footballpitch.
For him it was obvious she would play football. It was what he'd anticiapated for a long time but the little girl said no. She didn't wanna play football, she wanted to take horseback-lessons, and as the nice father he was he didn't pressure her into anything but said ok, she would get to take her horse-riding lessons if that was what made her happy.
The four-year old was over-joyed, not Trent. He was as far away from his comfort zone he could imagine when he stepped onto the yard with his estatic daughter. It was muddy and bloody cold but he didn't say anything, just smiled at Ella who blabbered away.
Anything for her
It was all he repeated in his head to get himself to not jump into the car again.
He could hear his teammates laughing in his head as he stood in the small house which apparently was called the club-house. When he had told them about his daughters wish he had got his head nagged in with teasing, but hey, anything for her.
He got informed of how it worked, where the list was, where the different buildings were located, how he handled the horse, that he'd have to fix it up before riding.
He nodded along pretending he understood just fine before walking after Ella as she hurried into the stable. The smell was the first thing that hit him, then the horses. What the fuck was he doing here, why hadn't he asked somebody who knew something about this to take her? Well probably because she had been so excited for him to come along.
"Look, look!" Ella prompted, grinning from ear to ear as she pointed to one of the horses "Which one am I having? Which one daddy?"
Trent shook his head "Uh, what was his name? Mons?" "Monty!"
Trent hummed, nodding as they walked along the line of horses, "Here it is" he told her and she squealed with excitement at the tiny, fat little horse that stood in the box, glaring at them from inside.
Trent stood a few meters away as one of the people who helped out in the stables showed Elle how to tack up. He could feel the stares as he tried to look at what they were doing, trying to memorize but nah, it was too much stuff. Ella almost bounced on the spot as everything was ready, Trent yet to touch the horse that was still glaring at them.
-
Trent sat on the cold tree stand as he watched his daughter wiggle around on the horse. If it wasn't for the biggest smile on her face he would've tried to talk her into something else but he couldn't, and it didn't matter how bitter he felt. He would have to learn and show up, put on his well practiced fake-smile, for her.
-
"Are you really Trent Alexander-Arnold?"
The sound of his name made him look up, taken aback by the mention. He hadn't even thought about being spotted or recognised here which he of course should have.
"Eh, I am" he choke before he even located the woman who spoke but when he did he felt like his choked reply was just right. Before him stood a beautiful woman, she didn't look like a mom, for sure not. She looked about his age, maybe a year or so younger than him.
She was absolutely stunning, her beutiful face held a warm and almost teasing expression. Eyes glimmering, like she was mocking him for his whereabouts.
"Wow" she hummed, sitting down next to him so naturally it almost made him envy her confidence. "So what in the world brings the famous footballer to the stables?" She asked, seemingly unbothered but the smirk she tried to hide leaked through, making him pull a grimace at her.
"Well, my daughter wanted to take horseback-lessons... so I took her to do it, silently hoping she wouldn't like it but now I guess this is my new place to be" he muttered and she chuckled softly "That's sweet of you"
Trent shrugged his shoulders, looking over at her as she sat so casually but still looked so elegant and beautiful. "What about you?" "Well I also happen to have a daughter who loves this stinky hole" she hummed, peeking his interest even more "Really?" he questioned, his eyes full of interest as she hummed "yeah, why?"
"No no I just... you look young to be a mother" he revealed, pulling a smile from her "thank you, I guess. But I was young when I got her" she admitted, making Trent nod along "How old are you?"
"23" she answered shortly making him hum "And what's your name?"
She chuckled, giving him a loopsided smile as she raised one eyebrow "Why are you so interested?"
Trent shrugged "I just am, you're not gonna tell me your name?"
"Y/n, it's y/n" she answered politely, a silence settling over the two as they watched their children try to lead the horse in the right direction.
--
It had been a stressful afternoon for you, hurrying home after work to make it in time to Amelies riding-lesson. But you'd made it, not quite on time but good enough.
Amelies riding lessons was nothing you'd been too big of a fan of, not only because you knew nothing about horses but also because it was darn expensive. But of course you couldn't say no to your precious daughter when she so sweetly asked you, so now you found yourself on this tree bench every week, looking as your daughter held the biggest smile on her face, and it felt worth it.
"I don't mean to be forward" you voiced quietly after a few moments, "It's fine" he hummed, turning his attention to you, bracing himself for what he knew was coming.
He was even more beautiful face to face, so close up, than on the tv-screen and you still had a hard time realizing it was actually the football player sitting next to you on the stable stand.
You had of course read gossip sites and rumors about him and his daughter, some saying he was indeed secretly married and other saying it was a failed one-night stand leading him to be a single parent. You didn't know what it was but you were intrigued.
"Are you married?"
Your question didn't surprise him, his eyes fleeting back from watching the group to you again. "Well-no"
"No?"
He shook his head, curls flying all over the place, your face told him you wanted to know more and he gave in, he knew darn well about all the rumours flying around about him and his daughter, and especially about the mother. "I am not married. Me and Ella's mother is not in any committed relationship. In fact it was a one night stand, ending up in her calling me and telling me she was pregnant and after a long hard time she pulled out, and I am now a single parent"
You hummed "is her mother in the picture at all?"
"Rarely, whenever it suits her" he shrugged, not really understanding why he told you all this. "What about you?" You chuckled bitterly "Nah, I was in a relationship when I got pregnant, but like I said I was young, barely 19 and our relationship was as serious as they are at that age so when things got real he bailed"
"So, do you have any contact?"
"No, I haven't really heard from him since I told him I was pregnant, I forced him to meet her once" you told him bitterly, the air tensing but you didn't mind and neither did he. It was nothing secretive and something you both had moved on from so talking about it felt like a natural part of an introduction because it was a big part of who you were, big part of your families.
When the short lesson was over Ella was bouncing as she ran up to Trent. You stood next to him, waiting for Amelie whilst continuing to small-talk. You couldn't help but smile as he kneeled down to scoop her up in his arms with the brightest smile. "Did you enjoy it princess?"
"I love it! Thank you daddy" he chuckled as he let her down again "Of course sweetie, are you all done now so we can go home and cook?"
You watched as the little girl nodded before looking away, Trent saw it aswell "It's okay, we can stay a little longer" he smiled at her shy look making her face lit up again "I just wanna say bye to my friends" she replied, kissing his cheek before running up the small bump into the stables again.
You felt like pouting at the sweet interaction but stopped from it seeing they were strangers and it would probably put him off. "She is really adorable" you smiled as he stood up again, smiling small.
"Thank you"
"Have you been here for a long time?"
"Here?"
"Have your daughter been riding for a long time?" he corrected making you hum "Well nah not that long, a couple of months" you answered. More than that wasn't said and it felt like a small relief when both of your daughters came running down from the stable giggling, breaking the sudden awkvard tension. You smiled at your daughter, her hapiness making you happy.
"Mommy, did you see?!" she squeeled as she raised her arms as a sign for you to lift her up which you did with a grin. "I did see, you were really good today" you smiled, loving her happy face as she bubbled with hapiness, all giddy.
You put her down when she started to wriggle, packing down all the things in your stable-bag. "Mom"
"Yeah" you hummed "Do you think I can play with Ella some day?"
You looked up, smiling softly as you paused "I'm sure we could fix something some time" you promised making her smile again, breaking away from the small shy energy. You could see that she was tired, even though she was blabbering and bouncing the tiredness started to droop onto her.
When she yawned you chucled, picking her up which she gladly accepted, snuggling into your shoulder.
You waved goodbye at Trent who smiled your way before stropping Amelie in the car to drive home.
Since that first time in the stables Trent and Ella went every week, every week coming to seek you out, ask you about your week and how you'd been since last time.
What in the beginning was a dreadful day for Trent slowly started to become an enjoyful one. You liked the stables just fine but it didn't get worse by seeing Trent.
Whenever he wasn't there it was a huge disapointment, something you were all to aware of.
He had became a good friend, your daughters spending time outside of the stables as well which prompted you to meet more than once a week.
The attraction was there, always but of course you never went with it since the kids were around and dating with a kid or even more so sleeping around whilst having a kid was not something you found appropriate or fair for her at the moment so you didn't do anything, didn't say anything and if he felt the same way he didn't say it.
You learnt more and more for every time you met and got more and more smitten. You understood why everybody was fawning over him so bad. You'd always liked him on the pitch, enjoyed watching him play but this was something completely different than that.
It was a sunday you realized how smitten you actually was with the guy. He had suggested to meet up for the kids to play so you could watch football together. It was United against City so the expectations where high as you sat in your sofa together. The girls in Amelies room playing.
He had been such a softie, resting his hand on your thigh as you sat closer than appropriate, conversing and laughing about the game. He told you stories about himself, about Ella and it was all so soft.
His eyes had been warm and he had been so sweet, cooking all of you lunch and helping you fix the new coffee table you hadn't put together yet. It had felt so domestic and it had made you realize how much you actuallly liked the guy.
But you hadn't spoken a word about it. It was too complicated to get involved with anyone. No man had gotten introduced to Amelie except from her dad but other than that you had stayed far away from that part of you. Only ever being with someone when Amelie wasn't home.
It was a delicate matter with kids and you didn't want to risk anything, plus, you had no idea if Trent even liked you in the slightest so you just kept your mouth shut, enjoying what was now.
A rare evening without Amelie or work was spent out. You were still young, still enjoying the thrill of a good club with friends so the bar was the place to go.
Your best friend begged to go to this new open bar, more similar to an night-club than bar but you didn't mind.
The first hour was spent upstairs in one of the more reserved booths, drinking and gossiping, spilling the recent tea and of coure the main topic was Trent.
She was dying to hear about it and you were dying to telll her. "No way he said that" she gasped, clapping her hands "Wow you go y/n, this is honestly wild"
You giggled, swallowing the rest of your drink "I know"
"What's next then? You almost kissed in his car and now?" "Now nothing" you sighed, shaking your head "What do you mean nothing"
"I mean that I haven't heard of him since then"
"Well text him then!" she exclaimed "I dont know" "Oh come on y/n you gotta do it, you are so smitten by him already and you never meet anyone"
"Lets drop this topic for tonight" you decided, sweeping the hard parts under the rug for now.
"Fine, let's go down and get the party started for real" she beamed sensing not to push you further right now.
"Yes please"
She giggled, hooking your arm with hers as you went down the sketchy stair to the club area, the night club you needed.
-
You were deep in your cups which was why you weren't sure if you actually saw who you thought you did or if you were hallucinating
"Y/n! Is that Trent??" your friend gaped making you realize it was actaully Trent and you gigggled, pulling her along with you as you tripped up to him, facing him with a bright smile
He was with a couple of friends, some you would probably recognize if it wasn't for the slight womble in your head
"Y/n??"
Trent eyed you up and down with a giant smirk, sensing your drunkness but he too were deep in his cups, immidiately dragging both you and your friend to their table.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, handing you another drink and pulling you to sit on his lap as there was limited space on the table he and a couple of his friends shared. Your friend immideately hitting it off with some of them.
"I have a rare night out" you grinned
"How convinient, I have to" he revealed, squeezing your thigh where your short dress had ridden up.
"How convinient" you smirked right back at him, your eyes dropping down to his lips a little too often
It wan't long until you couln't resist the urge to kiss him anymore. The clear part of our head would probably stop it right now because it was compliacted, you had Amelie, you couldn't just date around and bring people here and there but the rational part of your brain wasn't working right at the moment. Only wanting some sort of normality, some sort of attention tonight and Trent gladly gave it to you, so you took it.
The soft kiss turned heated, passionate and neeedy, hands grasping desperately at each other as your turned around on his lap. Only when the people around you started to make noises did you break apart for the moment, enjoying the night on his lap, his mouth on yours and hands caressing you whenever the moment allowed it. It was something completely different like this, when the kids wasn't around, when neither of you had to take the parent role, when you both were deep in your cups and didn't hold back. It was something completely different but so relieving.
--
He asked you out, actually asked you out. Not asking for a playdate with the kids, no. Alone, with you and it felt like the nerves would explode. You had met him for months now but it felt different after the bar meeting.
It had been heated, promising more than just parents of two friends. No, that had showed you he wanted more as well. The kisses shared, the touches ad the late, drunken question to come home with him. It all indicated that he wanted more of whatever it was between you.
You read his text again. You had agreeed on dinner in his flat. Neither of you wanted to do something public. Still it felt nerve-wracking. You hadn't been at his place before, always at yours for various reasons.
You hadn't gone home with him that night but what if he wanted something in that way tonight`?
did you want anything like that? Hell yes
How did you act with him, alone? Without being drunk
What do you wear to something like this?
You had no idea
After what felt like forever you finally emerged from your car outside of his complex, wearing sweats and a hoodie as he had told you after asking and making your way inside.
It was darn expensive, exclusive, luxaury celebrity building. You felt hella out of place, not only because of your clothes as you got escorted up to his floor. The secod you saw him though, it felt okay. The smile twinkling in his eyes as he welcomed you inside.
-
"This feels a bit weird" you smiled, sitting on his big comfy sofa. Stretching out your tired body on the comfortable furnitor.
Trent chuckled, pursing his lips "Well"
"Not bad" you promised "But weird, I'm not used to be alone with you. It's always the girls or the horny mums"
At that Trent couldn't contain his laughter "Horny mums?"
"Yeah you should hear them talk" you scoffed, shaking your head at them.
"I do, trust me" he chuckled, plopping down next to you in the sofa with two glasses of wine. "I just choose to ignore them most of the time" he smiled, handing you one of the glasses.
Your eyebrows raised as you turned to him with an unimpressed look "most of the times?"
"Well yeah, I mean I did not ignore you, did I?" he teased, showing his beutiful smile. Your eyes rolled "no but I'm not talking about how hot it would be to be fucked by a footballer or how perfect your back looks to scratch"
"Why don't you though?"
You choke on the wine you sipped, spluttering it out in your lap as you tried to contain yourself with laughter You looked at him deadpan, "you want me to?"
His shoulders shrugged and his face pulled a grimace, smirking at your flustered state "I wouldn't mind it"
"Really?" you hummed, looking at him from under your lashes while sipping your wine. Gaining your confidenece back "Oh Trent, I wanna scratch your back while you fuck me so hard" you ironized with a high-pitched voice.
Trent laughed, raising his glass towards you "Take away the irony and we are home"
You couldn't help but give him a bright smile, leaning your head towards him before straightening up to do your real performance. His eyes followed you amusedly as he watched you clear your throat before you repeated "Oh Trent, I wanna scratch your back while you fuck me so hard" but only this time you tried to make it sound real, moaning out the words with an additional moan afterwards.
Trent's amused face dropped slightly as you smirked at him "Better?" "Mhm" he nodded, giving you an impressed look "Wow, that's actually wild" he hummed causing you to laugh at him, shaking your head at his dramatics "That explains how you women are so good at faking things"
You hummed, nodding "Sure but you can hear a clear difference from an fake moan and a real moan"
Trent hummed, pouting his lips in thought "well sure"
You pursued tour lips "Do you know the differences?" Trent shrugged "Sometimes, I think most of the times I can tell"
"Have someone ever really faked it with you?" you giggled, "Sure" Trent chuckled, internaly palming himself for revealing that to you.
"Why?" "I don't bloody know, I guess they didn't like it?"
You laughed "Oh poor Trent, are you not that talented in bed?"
He only scoffed, giving you a face that only made you laugh harder "I'm sure am talented enough"'
You giggled, crawling closer to him before settling in his lap. It didn't feel weird, you had been in this position before. You wanted to take it one step further, wanted to be with him.
"What if I need proof?" you whispered, your voicie low and all serious as he swallowed, giving you a heated gaze "Well I think we can fix that, don't you think?" "I was hoping" you smirked, immediately atttacking his lips with yours.
His hands fell on your ass, pulling you closer as your hands tangled in his curls.
Screw all the complicated shit, screw all responsibilites. You would fix it all later, talk it all through later. This wasn't bound to change anything, except it was. You felt more than you wanted to admit.
Screw the feelings, you needed him right now and he felt the same.
His hands started to undress you, flinging your hoodie off and you let him but when his hands left your boobs and started to tease your underwear you stopped him.
"Hey" you mumbled, immideately grabbing his attention, brown eyes searching yours for any signs that he'd crossed the line.
You gently stroke his neck, smiling at his attentive expression. "Did I do something?" he asked softly, relief filling his body as you shook your head. "No no, I just-" you began, looking away from his intense gaze
"What?" he murmured, gently angling your face so that you looked at him again.
Your face felt warm as he looked at you "I-I just haven't had sex in.... forever" you admited shyly
"Forever? you do have a kid, right?"
You giggled loving how he tried to ease the embarrsament as your lips graced his shoulder. "A year" you clarified, looking away from his face as he raised his eyebrows in supriese "Really, wow I feel like i've been in a dryspell forever but a year... I would've alredy have cum now"
You giggled again, hiding your embaressment in admitting this to your lext lay but Trent was different. It wasn't just some hook-up, it was Trent. Someone you already had found a liking towards. Someone you felt comfortable with and trusted, someone you didn't feel embarrassed around.
He kept a loving smile on his face, kissing your cheek sweetly before speaking again. "It's nothing, as long as you want this we can take it as slowly as you want to and if you don't, we don't" he mumbled softly against the soft skin of your shoulder.
"I want to, just... take it slow" you breathed out, his head noddding in recognition as he continued his ministrations on your neck and collarbone. Leaving marks like a teenager would on your sensitive skin. It made you giggle, plafully pushing him away but he just gave you his millon-dollar grin and continued, knowing you liked it.
You started to ease into it. Not feeling as stiff anymore as you moved your body against his, making him let out an apreciative sound. "Yeah?" he mumbled, a word so short but still so hot to hear from his lips.
His hand creeped down your sweatpants, gently teasing the hem of your underwear, tripping under the waistband only to crawl back up. It was all a part of his slow show and you started to realise what you had really asked him.
You kissed him sweetly, passionately but soft. Searching his mouth with yours, hands grasping on his broad shoulders, slowly creeping down to finally feel his gorgously sexy abs.
His breath fanned your jaw as he watched your face every movement, only slipping his hand into your panties for real when you made strong eye-contact with him, pleadig with your eyes for him to keep going.
And keep going he did, finally lettig his fingers stroke over your swollen clit. His fingers moved expertisely, knowing exactly where it would feel the best and where to be to drive your mind absolutely crazy and needy.
He was so focused on your face as you let him play with you, enjoying it way to much to ever ask him to stop.
When your mind started to function again you let your hand slip under the waistband of his calvins. Quickly wrapping around his hard dick to give him some attention as well. Too soaked up in your own for quiet some time already.
He didn't complain, his eyes closing briefly and a hard breath escaping his open lips as you stroked him firmly. Trying to focus on him whilst he brought you to the edge, slipping two fingers inside of you.
Your body had gotten completely loose now. Moving on it's own accord, not caring anymore, not controlled by nerves but pleasure.
He could see exactly when your orgasm started to climb to it's top. Not daring to stop as your voice pleaded him not to. Your hand stopped aroud his dick, unable to focus as your orgasm washed over you. The sounds you let out fell deaf on your own ears, not to Trent's who only got harder as your body shook, fingers slowly retreating as you came down. Not wanting to overstimulate you at this state.
"Okay?" he smiled softly, the giggle you let out sounded free and happy "more than okay" you smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips lovingly. Hand resuming it's pace on his hard cock.
Soon enough you tugged at his boxers, wanting them off, wanting him inside of you.
He let you do what you wanted, helping to take off his boxers as he helped you out of your sweatpants. His hands gently cupped your breasts over your brah as you looked at each other. "You sure you want this?" he hummed, needing the consent "Yes, you?" you hummed back softly, "All I wanted to do since I first saw you" he consented, bringing a smile on your lips as he guided his tip to your entrance.
He rubbed oer your sensitive nerves, giving you time to relax again from the initional reaction to feeling his dick against the place you wanted him.
"Relax yeah?" he hummed softly, kissing over your chest, smiling against your skin as you complied. Relaxing your body against the soft material.
He fially pushed the tip in, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch. His lips a nice distraction, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kissed you passionately. Breathing in and swallowing your sounds.
It felt like an enternity until he finally stopped, fully inside you. You panted against his lips, trying to take in the feeling of complete blizz.
Fuck you had missed this
"Move" you breathed, his hips immediately following your words as he slowly started to thrust inside of you. Taking it slow as promised but it felt just as good as anything else. It wasn't about fucking the life out of you, it would be time for that later. No this was about connecting, making eachother feel pleasure and love and wow did he manage well.
You felt like all you could do was moan and whine, your body writhing on the soft cushions as he gave you all he had, rolling his hips into yours, filling you completely with each deep thrust.
He reached places you didn't even remembered you could or knew. It felt like you were floating on a cloud as his mouth found your skin again.
"Fuck I'm sorry" he breathed harshly on your jaw as he kissed his way up
"What?"
"I-I'm gonna cum" he breathed making you giggle out a moan "Fuck do it"
His fingers found your clit, gently stroking the sensitive nub as he quickened his pace slightly. His hips started to jerk as he got closer to his release, soon coming to an complete stop as he came, taking you with him in the blizz.
It felt like you blacked out. Letting your eyes fall close as he slipped of to the bathroom, helping you clean up and change clothes to sleep. He didn't bother making you brush your teeth or go to the toilet. You were already half-asleep so he just crawled down into the bed again. Kissing your shoulder and whispering soft praise for you as you drifted off to sleep in his comfortbale bed and warm embrace.
--
Awkvardness settled in your body as you looked down on the steeming hot cup of coffe he'd just handed you.
He looked as free as a bird, not an ounce of regret or questionmarks visable in the way he moved around the kitchen
You didn't regret it but now the hard conversation were bound to happen, the conversation you'd dreaded since you started to feel something about him. But again, he didn't look cornered at all, he looked the oposite to you and that also made you question this, question his feelings.
It wasn't long until he broke the silence, turning to you with an look you couldn't really decide if it was scolding, angry or amused. Maybe something inbetween it all.
"Why are you awkvard?"
He popped the question, just like that, cornered you even more than you already felt as you squirmed on the tall bar stool you sat on at his kitchen island.
"I'm not" you tried but he only chuckled, giving you a soft smile. "This dosen't have to be as hard as you make it out in your head"
"I dosen't?" you half mocked him but he stood his ground, shaking his head "No, it dosen't. I really like you" he stated, like it was the easiest thing ever to say
"And I think you like me too so what's the problem? Our kids already love eachother so why just not take it slowly, ease into it with them, keep it on the low, see eachother more and then move forward step by step. It dosen't have to be that hard. I'm sure of my feeling, it's not something casual or temporary"
You sat quite for a while "Well when you say it like that it sounds like the easiest thing in the world"
Trent chuckled, coming loser to you "It's not the easiset thing in the world but I like you too much to not give this a try"
You smiled leaning over the island to kiss him gently "I like you" you mumbled against his lips, feeling them curl into a smile against yours.
--
Sundays couldn't get better than this, the sun was out, mood happy and the birds were singing. Trent's hand in yours made a warmth spread in your chest. The girls ran in front of you, playing tag in a fit of giggles.
The soft morning had woken you up in the right mood, waking up alongside Trent was bound to wake you up in a good mood. Early morning sure but the way Tren't had made love to you first thing after waking up made your mood hit the good roof.
"I love this" you hummed, watching up at his beutiful smile under the baseball cap he'd pushed down over his curls, not wanting to be recognised.
You'd made it official, but not public. He had asked you to be his girlfriend one late night in front of the tv, cozied up together on the sofa. It had been only one clear answer on your tongue and since then things had changed for the better.
The worry of affecting your kids had been one that had proved not to be a problem, the girls already concidering the other best friends. Trying to explain had been a bit harder the girls not completely undestanding why they spent so mch time together at eachothers houses but they loved it neitherless.
"Me too" Trent hummed, glancing up at the girls "And I love you" he continued, turning to you again, tilting your head up to gently kiss you, a kiss you couldn't help but to smile into, holding his chin gently as he kissed you softly, intimately.
"Daddy!" "Mommy!"
You broke apart, giggling as you turned to your kids "Why is your daddy snogging my mommy!" Amelie protested but Ella only giggled making Amelie start to.
"Where have you learnt that word?" you asked her pointedly, her eyes blinking up at you "Trent told me it" she defended before they were off again.
"You taught her the word snogging??" you turned to him with a scoff "What?!" he exclaimed "The girls were using the word fucking so I told them not to say that and to say snog instead, choose your word woman!" he defended making you laugh "Okay okay, snogging is much better than fucking"
"Exactly" he smiled in victory as you continued to walk.
You'd never felt this kind of peace before in your life. It had always been something, something unsettling. But right now, right now it felt like peace, like nothing was hard or confusing. Everything was clear and you were happy, happiest you'd ever been.
And it all felt like it was coming together, peace had finally landed.
#trent alexander arnold imagine#trent alexander arnold#footballer imagine#trent x reader#trent alexander arnold x reader#footballer fanfiction#footballer fanfic#england nt#liverpool#trent alexander arnold fanfic#trent alexander arnold fanfiction#trent alexander arnold smut#trent alexander arnold fluff#trent alexander arnold angst
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Water (Patreon Exclusive)
pairing; yoon jeonghan x f reader
genre; smut (minors dni), angst, fluff/romance, crack
summary; being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to Paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret...that's something completely different.
warnings; eating/drinking, alcohol, mentions flying in a plane, inaccurate french, a bit of self deprecating thoughts and feelings, hiding a relationship, idiots in love, oral (f receiving), fingering, jealousy, crying (from pleasure and not), petnames, unprotected sex, cum on skin/creampie -- as always there might be a warning I am missing but do try.
w/c; 19k and some change (1.2k this teaser)
a/n; as always I have to thank @onlyhuis for not only proofreading but also helping me with coming up with so many brilliant ideas. I also want to thank @wooahaeproductions for lending me her brilliant brain and offering so many beautiful ideas.
this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here
“I’ll try not to slobber on your shoulder.”
You roll your eyes with a faint laugh at Mingyu’s words as he sits on your right in the aisle seat. The “fasten seatbelt” sign had just turned off and a quick glance at your phone told you that the plane had been in the air for about an hour. It was going to be a long 13 hour flight to Paris and while Mingyu was settling in to take a nap, you weren’t sure you were going to be following suit.
Jeonghan purses his lips, watching you shift in your seat. You looked restless and he understood the feeling. While he felt like he could get up and take a walk along the aisle, beside him, Dokyeom was snuggled up against the window, watching a movie on the screen in front of him.
Slipping out of his seat, Jeonghan leans to bump his hip against Mingyu, only to make the man groan, opening his eyes in annoyance. You were looking up at your friend curiously, your brows furrowed as he pursed his lips and jutted his thumb back over to where he had been sitting just a moment before.
“Trade with me.”
Confusion slowly spreads across Mingyu’s face as he looks from Jeonghan to you and back up at the other man. Lifting his brows, Jeonghan sighs and waves his hands as if trying to hurry Mingyu out of his seat, as if he were in the wrong spot, when clearly Mingyu had known he was supposed to sit beside you.
“What? You serious?”
“The fuck, you mean, am I serious? I’m talking, aren’t I?” Letting out another sigh, Jeonghan gestures towards Dokyeom once again.” Gyu…Go sit beside Dokyeom and cuddle with him. Clearly, you both want to sleep and Y/N isn’t going to. I want someone to talk to.”
Groaning, Mingyu looks back at you as you give him a soft, pouty smile, reaching up to pat his cheek as he begrudgingly gives up his spot to Jeonghan. Sliding past the smaller man, Mingyu narrows his eyes at him, only to get a smirk in return as Jeonghan slips into the seat with a happy sigh.
Dokyeom glances over to Mingyu as he slumps down in the seat, pulling his blanket over his legs, as he watches Jeonghan look over at you with a grin on his face. There was something weird about what had just happened but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Shrugging, Mingyu glances towards the movie playing in front of Dokyeom as he leans his head to rest it on his friend’s shoulder, watching it on mute as his eyes get heavy.
“Jeonghan…You are so full of shit.”
Your words draw Jeonghan’s attention as he adjusts his seat, leaning it back to get more comfortable beside you. It was going to be a long ass flight but his traveling companion had just gotten exponentially more attractive.
“Why? Did I lie?”
Rolling your eyes, you glance away from Jeonghan and out of the window as he smiles at you. Yoon Jeonghan was one of your best friends. When the idea of going on this group trip to Paris came up, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go but it had been him who had talked you into it. There were plenty of reasons not to go but in his opinion, there were even more reasons to go.
Your relationship with Jeonghan was complicated. It hadn’t started out that way. You had met him along with the rest of your friends in college. All of you were studying different things but at the end of the day, it was your personalities that had led you all together.
Kim Mingyu had been the first friend that you had made and your gateway into the group. Many others had come and gone but by the end of four grueling years at university, there were fourteen of you that had stuck together and now ten of you are on a plane for a once in a lifetime vacation.
When you don’t answer him right away, Jeonghan lets his eyes run along your neck and up to your pretty face. He had always had a harder time than some of the others when it came to keeping it platonic with you. Then, last Halloween, Jeonghan found out he wasn’t the only one struggling with that feeling.
Maybe it had been the alcohol or maybe it had been all of the tension in the air but in a dark corner of Seungcheol’s apartment, you and Jeonghan had shared your first heated kiss. That kiss had turned into a long conversation the next day, which led to an even longer discussion about how neither one of you wanted to fuck up your friendship.
“We will just have rules, Y/N.”
You had sighed as Jeonghan had run his fingers along your jaw, tilting your head up so he could look at your face as he spoke. You hadn’t wanted to agree to the idea of being friends with benefits but the ache between your thighs every time you looked at him had been enough to keep you listening and to make your lips part as he had ran his thumb under your bottom lip.
“If either one of us wants to stop, we just say it. No deep conversations have to happen. My only rule is that if you are going to fuck someone else, tell me. I don’t want to be second best.”
Jeonghan had listened to you whining softly under your breath as his fingernails scratched along the side of your head at your hairline. He had known you wanted it as much as he did but what he didn’t know was that it was going to hurt you just as much as it was already hurting him. It seemed like such a simple solution to how he was feeling. He would get to have you in his life even more. He would get to fuck you as much as possible, but then you’d leave every single fucking time and it would start to hurt every single fucking time.
Turning back towards Jeonghan as you feel his eyes moving along your skin, you fight the urge to move closer to him in your seat. You weren’t alone on the plane and your friends weren’t that far from you, with Mingyu and Dokyeom sitting diagonally across the aisle and Jihoon and Joshua behind you.
“You could have kept Dokyeom awake to talk.”
Smirking, Jeonghan purses his lips as he moves to lean across you, pulling down the shade on the window, leaving you and him both veiled in the low light of the cabin. You sigh as you feel his fingers slide along your forearm to your wrist, his fingernails causing chillbumps to spread along your skin as he draws small circles on your skin.
“I don’t want to talk to Dokyeom, I want to talk to you.”
Sighing softly, you glance down at your hand as Jeonghan runs his fingers along yours before linking his hand with yours. You knew the light was dim enough that no one would see and that if anyone did, they probably wouldn’t ask too many questions because Jeonghan was just a touchy guy to begin with. What you didn’t know was why your heart was in your throat. You didn’t know why your friend with benefits even wanted to hold your hand in the first place.
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#jeonghan smut#seventeen smut#svthub#svt smut#jeonghan angst#seventeen angst#svt angst#jeonghan x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt fluff
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Among the Bullets
Chapter 1, part 1
Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, bear with me)
When someone would look over your file they would be met with a nice and normal, average-looking citizen, who took over your father's Machine Shop at the age of sixteen when he passed away, went to trade school and then university for engineering on scholarship. The worst law you ever broke was speeding, it was clean, neat, and tied up with a bow. Then came when you were invited to be a console on a Military operation, and somehow that kept being a habit; you were a vital person in many operations.
Clean file. Looked good on paper.
“Bullshit!” Simon snapped at Price as he tossed the file onto the oak desk, giving his captain a disapproving glare (as if he could look any different). “A civilian?”
Price sat down at his desk, leaning back in the chair and looking over the file that now sat in front of him, the emblem on the folder like a haunting mark of the mechanic's impending doom. With a shrug of his shoulders, he lifts his gaze to the lieutenant. He was well aware was less than pleased but the order was over his head, even if he did agree that it was risky and it would only deter their efforts, he had no choice but to allow it and pray to whatever God there was that no one would be killed, “Listen it’s and in an out op, the kid’s been on the field before.”
Simon grumbled pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked at the captain, almost having to strain his eyes to see it through the darkness. Sure he had seen consoles come onto the team for certain operations, but not for this type of one, not one that would require this much attention to detail, not one that would be risky even for him. Then atop of the already risky mission, he would have to babysit some knee-weak mechanic, and lord knew he would be dumped with them because no one else would even give them a second thought- it was idiotic. And he would be sure to tell Price about his opinions.
“What ‘bout protocol? The ranks? To even know the task force exists is clearance nine!”
“Since when have you ever given a shit about protocol?” Price retorted and then stood back up, picking up the file and looking it over, “Full scholarship to MIT, been in the field for over ten years, girl’s a borderline genius. Like it or not she’s comin on and guess what? For the lip you get to greet her.”
“Not babysittin it.”
Price narrowed his gaze and glanced up at Simon, almost amused by the man’s harsh words, “Oh? Now you get to show ‘er to her bunk.”
Simon let out an exasperated laugh, almost in shock by it all. He was being downgraded to a babysitter, something any rookie could do with easily, something so very below his paygrade, “Make Johnny be the welcome wagon, ‘etter at it.”
“No, you’re doin it.” He tapped the folder and then held it out for the lieutenant to take, not bothering to make his expression even look pleased, so when the man reluctantly took the file he spoke again, his voice growing more annoyed with each syllable. “Get a move on, she’ll be here within the hour.”
With a grunt Simon looks down at the file and turns on his heel, mind whirling at how stupid all of it was, how stupid of a mission they had to go on was, how stupid whoever chose to put some random mechanic on the team was, how stupid Price was for making him be the stupid wagon. Well, replace stupid with much cruder words and maybe quite a few insults, and then it would accurately describe his mental dialogue. Just as he reached the door of the office he heard Price call his name and for some reason, not for some reason there was reason, he thought about ignoring him. With a sigh, he turned about halfway to assure his captain he had his attention.
“Don’t scare her, need her for this op.”
‘Don't scare her’ he mentally mocked as he walked through the base, almost laughing at the choice of wording, there is nothing he did better than scare people. It was a part of his MO so of course he would scare whatever mechanic they deemed fit to come onto the team. Hopefully, for his sake and theirs, he would be able to scare them off before the mission happened.
“It’s been forty-seven hours, I’m tired, I’m dirty, and I’m hungry,” Your words were mainly to yourself as the random solider handed you the duffle bag you had oh so perfectly packed, and you tell just by how lopsided the weight was that it had been ransacked. You had just spent the last two days in a carrier, only stopping twice to get fuel for the craft and you weren't even allowed to look outside because that was ‘above your clearance’ to know where you were and no one offered any food and you were stupid enough to think you would have some sort of meal provided on the trip. So, your grumble was more of a plead for food, or somewhere to take a nap, instead, you were met with your bag to your chest and no response.
With a hum you walk off the hangar, the base itself was bustling, people all within their own heads and no one even knew you existed, which may be for the better because you felt like a fish out of water. You had been told that someone would be there to give you more information but you were currently standing with a bag at your feet, no phone, no reference for anything, and a lot of panic pooling in your gut. Sure, you were smart, socially well, you got along well with others but…You hated when you felt out of place, so standing there well it might as well be your worst nightmare.
When you hear your last name hissed from behind you you close to trip over your own feet to look behind you, only to slightly wish you didn’t. Growing up you were of average height, and a strong build and you felt pretty alright with your stature- yet at that moment you had never felt so small to put it simply. The man before you looked the part you assumed he was, a soldier, one who probably had…issues judging by the skull mask and the black clothes, or maybe he just never outgrew his emo phase.
“Oh.” You couldn’t keep the small squeak from your throat from coming out and you tuck your hand under your arm to pull off your glove, holding out your hand as you forced a smile to introduce yourself. The man before you just eyed you put down and then held out a tablet for you to take. So, you nod and take it, “Okay…cool? What is this?”
“Your schedule for the next week and a half.” He quipped harshly and then began to walk off, getting about halfway across the hangar before he realized you were simply not following and he stood still, “Civil!” Simon heard you let out a small ‘oh!’ and then approaching footsteps as if you ran over to him
Simon's gaze remained impassive as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your simple outfit and unassuming demeanor. There was something about you that piqued his curiosity, which for whatever reason he found more unsettling than anything else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something that drew his attention, even as he looked away there was the faint growing feeling that he needed to look back- which was disgusting and foreign and he hated it so he resisted it with all of his might.
"We'll meet the rest of the team tonight," Simon stated, his tone clipped and businesslike as he continued to walk towards one of the main halls.
"Okay, and…," your voice trails off as you look through the schedule and then bite back a laugh as you see how…well scheduled it was, not a minute was left for anything, even your nightly schedule was not your own (something you will be ignoring) and you nod. "That is at 17:30 thank you, Lieutenant Riley."
“How do you know that?”
Your head shoots up and look at him and you let out a small hum, realizing your error by addressing him by a name you really shouldn’t have known you look down at the tablet again, so with a nervous tic of clearing your throat your gaze lowers to the tablet again,“C…Can I plead the fifth to that?”
“No.” His words left room for silence until he reached the quarters, the one that used to be an office so the bed was only a pull-out sofa and by far it was the closest to the garage, and he could tell by your confused stare up at him that you were baffled on why he stopped walking and he motioned to the door. “Yours.”
“I get my own room?” The lightheartedness to your slightly ecstatic quip was met with a lifeless stare and you nodded, opening the door with a laugh following your sigh, “This is so cool! Usually, when I work for the military they put me in the barracks-” You spin around to see him with a beaming smile upon your expression, “Thank you.”
Unshokcingly all you were met with was a nod and then being left to your own unpacking, so you nod and then move to close the door. Not that you needed to unpack, afterall you would be on base for about a week and a half, and then your little ‘mission’ and then you would be free to go home. This would be easy. Super…easy, right?
;
“Tha’ little thing??” Johnny interrupted with a flabbergasted look on his face, almost falling over from the next punch Simon landed on the boxing bag he had supposed to be holding steady, sure he knew they were getting a consult but- “She’s gunna die.”
Simon looks at him from the boxing bag, holding out his hand to steady it, “No shit.”
“Cap’n okay with it’?”
A small pause and then Simon raises his fists again, “Don’t know. Meet ‘er tonight.”
I’m still new to this still, feed back would be sooo appericated!
Chapter 1, part two
#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost x reader#cod x you#cod fluff#johnny cod#john price x reader#john price#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#ghost x you#ghost imagine#coco's chaos <3#simon riley x female reader#x female!reader
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Title: Third Party.
Pairing: YandereLoid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (Spy x Family).
Word Count: 1.5k.
TW: Post-Reveal AU, Reader Is Sketchy, Implied Murder/Violence, Mentions of Blood, and Cheating (?).
“Are you sure you have to leave?”
You let the words ebb into a lazy drawl, dragging your fingertips down the length of his spine as you nuzzled into his back. Loid’s skin was a patchwork of scars, no more pleasant to run your hands over than dulled sea glass or sandpaper, but you did your best to savor it, to let your lips ghost over a blossoming field of discolored bruises before your attention rose higher – to the rows of fresh nail-marks that’d been carved from his shoulder to the middle of his back. Most of his injuries had been left by his patients, permanent testaments to his dedication to his work, but those scratches had been your doing. A little present for the kindhearted wife he was going home to, sooner or later.
The thought filled you with a smoldering sort of zeal, quick to gnaw at your better judgment and infest the empty void where your guilt should’ve been. You swallowed down your excitement, taking instead to slotting yourself against him as if you weren't praying for him to leave, as if you didn't have anything better to do than press your cheek against the nape of his neck, string your arms over his shoulders, and beg him to stay. “We never get to see each other, anymore. I miss you so much when we’re not together – it feels like someone’s trying to carve my heart out of my chest.”
Sappy, overly sentimental, almost embarrassingly aggrandizing towards the object of your affection. The type of praise that’d only appeal to a man who thought himself enough deserve not just his wife to confide in during the day, but a lover who would spend their nights at his side in faded hotel rooms, between sheets that’d seen better days. This one was nicer than most – the sheets unstained, the lights pleasantly dim, the furniture not completely saturated with stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. You had to assume it was supposed to be a gift. Loid wasn’t the type to flaunt an affair, but he’d gone out of his way not to bring you to another seedy, by-the-hour motel. If nothing else, you could appreciate a man willing to open his wallet.
There was a moment of quiet hesitation, then an airy laugh. You let go of him just in time for one of his arms to wrap around your waist, hauling you off of the mattress and into his lap, where he could bury his face in the crook of your neck without intervention. He held you like that for a long, agonizing second before pulling back, allowing just enough space between your body and his to press his lips against your temple, then into your own. The kiss was gentle, lingering, and you let yourself melt into it, into him. Genuine shows of adoration were rare, in your line of work. While you doubted Loid felt anything more towards you than lust-tinged fondness, he was a good enough actor to pull off the role of ‘Lovestruck Idiot’ with little to no breaks in his character. “You don’t know how much I want to,” he started, with a smile as hollow as the man who wore it. “But Yor’s at home with our daughter, tonight. It’d be cruel to leave her on her own.”
A slight pout, quickly traded for something more aloof. As if you were trying to hide your disappointment and doing a poor job of it. “Anya must really be a handful if you’re too worried to leave your wife alone with her.”
He was grinning, now, his expression tinted with something you didn’t quite recognize. He opened his mouth, but a knock on the hotel room’s door interrupted your hushed conversation. You frowned, but Loid didn’t seem bothered. “Why don’t you get that?”
“It’s probably just some drunk tourist. They’ll go away if we ignore them.” You brought a hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “I’d rather give my attention to—”
Another knock, this one a little more forecful than the last. Loid squeezed your side, almost playfully. “Answer the door.”
It wasn’t a question, this time.
Hesitantly, you pried yourself away from him, pushing yourself to your feet. Your clothes had been torn off and discarded hours ago, but you snagged Loid’s button-up off of the floor and shrugged it on as you approached the door, pausing once you reached the entryway. You cast a nervous glance towards Loid, who responded with an encouraging nod and a slight wave, gestures that would’ve been more suited for an anxious child, afraid to leave their parent’s side for the very first time. Biting into your bottom lip, you slowly undid the rusted latch and slid the deadbolt out of place, resting your shoulder against the cool wood as your hand found the knob.
Yor was on you as soon as you opened the door.
Her hands in your hair, her knee between your thighs, her mouth crashing into yours with enough force to bruise. She slammed your back against the nearest wall, knocking the air from your lungs and pinning you underneath her strength as her tongue invaded your mouth, as teeth clashed against teeth and pointed nails scrape against your scalp. It was a desperate connection, frenzied and feral, driven by something you couldn’t define and only broken by your mutual need for air – her breath coming in shallow, panted gasps when she finally pulled away from you.
Her attire was the first thing you noticed, her evening gown dark enough to blend into the shadows of the entryway and maimed brutally. A long gash ran from her hip to the hem of her skirt, another bisecting her midriff, revealing a slit of pale skin and sculpted muscle. There were a thousand more nicks in the fabric, a thousand more reasons for you to panic, but your stare was quickly drawn upward, to her face.
To the dots of blood splattered across her cheeks, still fresh enough to shine crimson in the dim light.
You opened your mouth, but didn’t have time to spit anything out before Yor snapped toward Loid, her disposition going from one of mindless desire to frantic apologeticness in the blink of an eye. “I’m sorry I’m late!” It seemed to come out louder than she intended it to, the words hasty enough to blend together as she stumbled through her crowded. "The governer wasn’t at home, and he had more guards than he was supposed to, and it took ages for—”
“As long as you’re not hurt, you have nothing to apologize for.” While you were stunned beyond words, Loid remained unaffected – indifferent to both his wife’s sudden appearance and your confusion. “Try to call next time, though. I was about to go out and see if you needed a hand.”
“Oh, I couldn't do that. Your job is already so much more stressful than mine - I can't ask you to do my work, too.” And just like that, she was brightening, any concerns she might've held about being late or injured or covered in blood dissipating in a matter of seconds. She turned to you, her hands falling to your own as she tugged you forward, towards the bed. You tried to pull yourself out of her hold, but her grip was vice-like, impossible to escape. She didn’t even seem to notice your futile efforts. If anything, she almost seemed shy, a pale blush creeping across her cheeks as she asked, “I… I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, did I?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Loid had been part of the job - seek out the target that the dark-haired man had identified, lure him into an affair, and keep up the act just long enough for his wife to catch and initiate a messy divorce. Sleeping with the aforementioned wife in addition to the mark you’d been paid to seduce had been a complimentary service, a creative touch to liven up an otherwise dull assignment, but you’d been careful, made sure neither of them had ever seen you with the other, never used the same shade of lipstick to stain Loid’s collar as you did to kiss Yor’s neck. You weren’t an amateur. You didn’t make mistakes like that. Neither of them should’ve known their partner knew about you, not unless they were both insane enough to come out and tell the other who they were going to see when they disappeared into cheap motels and empty offices. No married couple would be so honest about something so detrimental to their relationship. No normal married couple, at least.
But, you were starting to think that Yor and Loid didn’t fit into that category as neatly as you’d hoped they would.
“The poor thing must still be a little startled,” Loid chuckled, finally pushing himself to his feet. Yor perked up, and with an airy sigh, Loid nodded, the exchange as silent as it was coordinated. With no further permission needed, you were thrown onto the mattress, barely allowed to land before Yor was on top of you, latching onto your throat, pointed teeth burying themselves into the curve of your neck. The pain was immediate, searing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how much it hurt when Yor’s attention had already fallen to your collarbone, then your chest, her focus drifting lower while her affection remained just as hostile. Loid, as stoic and as sociopathic as always, positioned himself next to your head, watching his wife work with an expression that only betrayed the slightest trace of fondness – a pleasure so diluted, it might've just been a trick of the light. “You can relax. Yor’s been looking forward to this for months. I haven’t been much better, to be honest. Yuri's never sent anyone so...” He trailed off, letting his head lull to the side. “So tempting our way before., I suppose.”
He was cupping your face, as if to mimic your own dramatized mannerisms, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. Yor groaned against your skin, a noise that you could only guess was meant to signal agreement, and Loid broke into a small grin.
For once, you thought his smile might actually be genuine.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#yandere scenarios#yandere spy x family#spy x family imagines#spy x family#yandere sxf#sxf imagines#yandere loid forger#yandere yor forger#loid forger x reader#loid x reader#yor forger x reader#yor x reader#yanderecore#yancore
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Uncle Eddie (part 5)
Our Juniper is growing up 😞 You can read this chapter below, or on ao3. All parts can be read together or as individual stories.
Eddie was pretty sure that this was the most nervous he'd been in his entire life.
Standing on the Buckley-Kinard porch, flowers in one hand and a poorly wrapped birthday present in the other, he let out a deep breath as he waited for someone to come to the door.
When the door finally opened and Tommy stood in front of him, he felt about two feet tall.
“You are in some deep trouble, Man,” Tommy said, shaking his head.
Technically, he deserved it. It was all his fault.
Juniper's tenth birthday was the first time she would have both parents, and her Uncle Eddie, off work for the whole day. Everyone was going to be at the party, even all of her very annoying ten year old friends, but she was most excited to show off her firefighting family, which very much included Uncle Eddie.
Except Eddie, after a very long and exhausting forty-eight hour shift, was asked by Smith if they could trade shifts. “I only have a twelve on Saturday, and I'd be willing to take your twenty-four on Sunday.” And damn if that didn't sound like a good bargain at the time.
It wasn't until he got back from a call on Saturday and checked his phone to see three missed phone calls and five texts from Buck that it hit him.
He was supposed to be at Juniper's party.
He was an idiot.
And should probably get his brain checked for forgetting the one thing she'd reminded him about over and over to the point of Eddie having to beg her to please stop reminding him.
So now he stood at the door with apology flowers and a present that would have been awesome yesterday, but would probably mean nothing today.
“Am I even allowed in the house?” Eddie asked, Tommy already moving to the side to let him in.
“Well, technically Evan was closer to the door when the bell rang, but he went out back instead of answering.”
Eddie stepped inside but stayed in the entryway while Tommy closed the door. “How mad at me are they? How mad are you?”
“Mm,” Tommy hummed, thinking it over. “I'm down to about a four, but that's because of all the downright pathetic texts you sent me yesterday after Evan wouldn't respond to you. Juniper is probably a nine, but I think she's more sad than mad. Evan is... Well, Evan is Evan, so.”
“So I'm in really deep trouble.”
Tommy nodded. “Oh yeah.”
“I guess I should get started on my apology tour then.”
“Good idea. The five apology texts you sent last night are enough for me, by the way. I'd start with Juniper today if I were you. Evan won't forgive you until she does.”
A sigh. “She in her room?”
“Yeah. Good luck.”
*****
Eddie knocked on the open door, standing in the doorway until Juniper hopefully gave him the all clear to enter.
She was facing away from him, sitting at her desk and carefully applying polish to her fingernails. The knock caused her to swivel in her chair, but the smile she had faded quickly when she saw Eddie there. She turned back around.
“I thought you were Papa,” she grumbled out.
“No, just me. Can I come in, Chewy?”
She shrugged. “Free country.”
For all the ways she was turning into her own person, she still contained so much of her dads attitudes.
Eddie walked into the room and over to her desk, setting the flowers down beside her. “That's part of my apology,” he explained, then he set her gift on the other side of her. “That's for your birthday. Your nails look very nice, by the way.”
It was something she had been getting into lately. She loved trying new polishes. Right now she was applying a shimmery blue, and she had done so almost perfectly. She practiced on Tommy a lot. His toes had a new color every week.
The present Eddie had gotten her was a new polish kit that had come out. It was apparently a huge deal with tweens... and she was supposed to have it yesterday so she could do all her friends nails.
“I don't know if- if you know this,” she said, twisting the cap back on her polish, “but my birthday was yesterday.”
Eddie went over to her bed, tossing some stuffed animals to the side before he sat down. “I know, Juniper,” he started, hoping she'd eventually look his way, “and I'm sorry. I made a stupid mistake, I know I did. There's no excuse, but I am sorry.”
Juniper sighed. She stared down at her nails, watching them shine as she moved them around. “Papa told me I should forgive you.”
“That's nice of him.”
“Daddy told me it was, um, it was up to me.”
“That... sounds like your dad.”
“Then Papa told Daddy that people make mistakes, and a- as long as people really try to do better and mean that they're sorry, we should forgive them.”
“That's good advice,” Eddie agreed.
“Then Daddy told Papa that certain mistakes shouldn't be made in the first place and people should make an- an effort to show up.”
“Well, everyone has the right to feel however they feel,” Eddie reasoned.
“Then,” she continued with an exasperated breath, “they kept talking back and forth so I just came in my room.”
Sometimes Eddie wished he could be a fly on the wall to see what kinds of conversations happen in this house.
This was not one of those times.
“Well, Chewy, I- I hope you do forgive me, but I understand if you need more time, okay? I'll make it up to you however I can, but if you want me to leave you alone for a while I will.”
When Juniper didn't respond, Eddie got up and started for the door. “I'll see ya, Juniper.”
“Wait.”
He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to see that Juniper was facing him now. “Yeah?”
“Are you really sorry?”
“I'm really sorry.”
“And you promise you won't do it again?”
“I-” Eddie paused, “I promise I will do my best to make sure I never make you sad again.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That is- is not the same.”
“It's the best I can do, Kid.”
She eyed him for a minute before seemingly coming to a conclusion. “Fine. I forgive you.”
“You do?”
“Mhm. You said you'd make it up to me, right?”
There's always a catch.
“Yes... Yes, I did.”
She smiled brightly, folding her hands together. “Can we go to Fun Zone today? It's a trampoline park and it's like th- the best place to go ever! Can we go?”
Well, that didn't seem like too much of an ask.
“Sure,” he replied. “Let me clear it with your dads first, but I'm sure it'll be fine.”
She clapped excitedly, her nose scrunching up with her grin. “Yay! I'm gonna get ready!”
Eddie glanced at his watch. “We'll head out in a few minutes, okay? I gotta talk to your dad first.”
The look on Juniper's face changed. “Ohh,” she grimaced. “I think Daddy's more mad than me. Here.” She hopped off her chair and picked up the flowers Eddie had given her. She pulled out one of the miniature roses and handed it to him. “Give this to Daddy. It might help.”
Under any other circumstance, Eddie might have laughed at the serious expression on her face, but not this time. After all, Juniper got her stubbornness from somewhere, and that somewhere was definitely Buck.
*****
Tommy was on the couch reading a magazine when Eddie came out to the living room. “How'd it go?” he asked.
“I've been officially forgiven,” Eddie informed him. “Although it did take a bit of a bribe. We're gonna go to some trampoline park thing after I talk to Buck.”
Tommy perked up at the mention of the park. “You mean Fun Zone?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Tommy snorted. “Oh, she's good. She is good.”
“What?” Eddie asked nervously. “Why?”
“On Sunday's kids get endless free ice cream. Endless ice cream, trampolines, they've got zip lines, obstacle courses, rope climbing, stuff like that. Add it all together and-”
“And she's gonna vomit in my truck.”
Tommy nodded. “I'd take a bag.”
“She's punishing me, isn't she?”
“We must all pay for our sins, Eddie,” Tommy replied, dramatically flipping the page of his magazine.
“Is Buck outside still?”
“Mhm.” He nodded toward the rose in Eddie's hand. “Flower for him?”
“Junie's idea.”
“Hm. Probably should've gone for the whole bouquet.”
With a roll of his eyes, Eddie turned for the sliding doors and headed out back.
Buck was sitting on the porch, staring out into the backyard ever so solemnly.
“Hey, Buck,” Eddie began with a slow approach toward him.
Buck said nothing, turned slightly to fix his gaze further away from Eddie, toward one of their trees.
“Just letting you know, I already talked to Juniper and cleared everything up.”
Still no response.
Eddie sighed. He scooted a chair beside Buck and sat down. “Buck, I'm sorry. I was overly tired when I took that shift and the party slipped my mind.” He held the flower in front of Buck's face so he couldn't avoid it. “Juniper accepted my apology. Can you?”
Buck stayed unmoving at first, but after a few seconds he took the flower from Eddie and stared down at it. “You only brought me one flower?”
“Buck.”
Finally, Buck turned to him. “That was a really crappy thing to do, Eddie. Junie looks up to you, she'd been telling all her friends about her Uncle Eddie. Told them you were the cool uncle that taught her Spanish, and then you didn't even show up.”
“Buck, I-”
“And I worked on that damn party for two months. You remember all the clipboards.”
“I do.”
“A vintage, early 2010's birthday party? That was the theme I was given! Whatever the hell that even means! Tommy and I spent two months figuring it all out, but all she'd ever talk about was the fact you'd be there. Tommy and I are just her dads, Eddie, you're the special, cool one in her life. You let her down.”
As if Eddie didn't feel bad enough already. “I know, Buck. I know I let her down, and let you guys down too. I'm sorry.”
“You should be,” Buck replied, face tense.
They were both quiet for a minute, until Buck's posture slowly relaxed.
“You know I wouldn't care so much if it was just me, but you hurt Juniper,” Buck explained. “She still enjoyed her party, but she was really upset you weren't there.”
“I know, Buck. I really am sorry, okay? I'm gonna take her to Fun Zone today for a few hours and- and maybe we can have all her friends come to the station sometime soon? Give them a class on fire safety and show them what we do.”
Buck thought for a moment, twirling the rose between his fingers. “And you'll be the one giving the class,” he replied. It was less of a question and more of a command.
“Yes, I will give the class.”
Buck sighed. “Fine. You're forgiven.” He pointed at Eddie, “Never do it again though.”
Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “Wouldn't dream of it.” He groaned as he stood, his bones creaking in ways they never did when he was younger. “I gotta see if Juniper's ready to go. Mind if I steal your kid for a few hours?”
Buck shook his head. “No, but... Wait, did you say you're going to Fun Zone?”
“Yeah.”
“She's gonna puke in your car.”
Eddie closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever he had just gotten into.
“Yeah, I... I know.”
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Rise of Skywalker
Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader
Reader gets captured by her former master. Things don't go as expected as they hash out old feelings.
Warnings: not gonna lie it's really dark in the beginning, Anakin redemption, hurt comfort, good after care, CNC, Rape, Dom Vader, he thinks it's her pulling him into it but it's really the force forcing them together, it's complicated and dark, but feelings confession, part of a larger series, vaginal sex, blow jobs, orgasms, I've never written anything like this before so hopefully it's alright.
Chapter One: Revenge
It was beyond stupid to stay on the ship when they were being boarded by Imperial soldiers. You should try to escape on one of the fighters. Deep down you knew it was too late for that. If you were in your own ship it would have been possible. Your shoulders tensed as the Imperial ship came closer, you recognized a Force signature you’d certainly wanted to avoid. It wasn’t quite the same as it had been when he was a Jedi, it was twisted but still somehow him. You handed the ship over to someone else and grabbed your bag.
You never got the chance to go up against your former master. Something that Obi-Wan had said you should feel grateful for. He knew the two of you had more going on than what was appropriate for a Master-Padawan bond. To fight against someone you love, well, Obi-Wan still wasn't the same man. He was empty, a shell of what he once was.
You felt disgusted with yourself. You wanted to hurt him, knowing whatever damage you did would only be a fraction of the pain he had caused you. You wondered when this life would ever leave you behind.
His presence moved through the ship and you were sure that the plans beamed to them were going to be discovered. Another failed attempt. You hadn't been aware of their plan when you had agreed to pilot the ship. It was supposed to be a diplomatic mission.
“Just let him take me.” You had told the rebel leader. Her face pinched in annoyance.
“You do not understand what he’s capable of -” She started but you cut her off.
“No, you don’t understand now fuck off.” You snapped at her, she felt guilty that someone innocent would be sacrificed for her plan. You moved towards the landing bay. You turned the corner in the final hallway, smoke billowing everywhere from the blasters having been fired. He stood tall at the end of the hall. His features were masked but his presence was shaken by your gaze.
“Take her to the detention block.” When he finally spoke his voice was metallic and dark. Storm troopers flooded towards you and you went with them gracefully. You wanted to draw them off the ship and give these idiots a chance.
They checked you over once they got you into the cell. They took your bag, lightsaber, and blaster. You were truly a prisoner. Laying down the sleeping platform you tried to rest.
Meditation was never your favorite thing, but you knew that whatever happened next you would need your strength. Your mind went the same way it always did when trying to mediate. Memories flooded you and your heart clenched tightly, but as it had been for so many years, there was no Obi-Wan to scold you and put you on the right path. No Anakin laughing at you. Just pain and an embarrassing amount of longing.
The Force seemed stronger around you than normal, maybe this was the path it wanted you to take. You tried to manipulate it but it wasn't interested in letting you be in control, it was pulling you and weather you liked it or not you were on this ride.
The silence was a welcome change, your life had become very complicated recently with trade route disputes and the rebels constantly trying to recruit you.
You thought about the last time you saw Anakin. Rage flared through you and you wondered when that wound would ever heal. It festered inside you. You could push it down, keep busy, but if he was ever brought up you would get sick almost immediately. He’d pushed you away. Sent you away from The Order and The War only to blow himself up and take the Jedi with him. You did come across the full prophecy years later while on a side quest in the Dagobah system. Anakin didn’t choose to become a Sith, at the core of his creation he was a Sith. Your stomach twisted painfully. This information had haunted you for years. Did this excuse him? Did it mean he was evil the whole time? Did he choose this life over you or did he have a choice at all?
You felt his darkness prodding at your mind. You kept yourself shut down tight, no way you were letting him in. A com chimed and his voice echoed in your cell.
“It seems you have something I want.” He spoke slowly. “Go to the ship's lower quarters.” The door slid open and you sighed. You moved through the seemingly empty hallways. You followed the trail he set for you in the force. Doors sprang open and eventually, you knew you were in his quarters. The air was different and the lights were dimmed. You moved into the space and decided it felt suffocating. Artifacts were displayed throughout the room and a desk near the window was covered in the contents of your bag. He had carefully laid out every single item. Even the charm he had carved you all those years ago was lying amongst medical supplies and various books. In the center of the room was a large orb, and in the center a large throne-like chair. The rest of the room went to the right and was obscured from your view.
Once satisfied with your observation of the room you finally dragged your attention to the masked figure sitting on his throne.
“You called?” You said calmly. His gaze was hidden in his mask but you could feel it resting heavily against your skin.
“How have you been?” He asked in a dead voice. The sound of it was created to frighten people, it was nothing like Anakin's voice. You cocked an eyebrow at him and moved closer. “It’s not like you to be captured so easily.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, I never finished my training.” You said hoping it bothered him. You tried not to show him any emotion knowing it would only delight him. You looked out the window.
“I thought maybe you had come to me for that reason.” He said and you snapped your head to him.
“I’d die first.” The words were coated in venom. You wanted to fight him. He made an exasperated noise that reminded you of who he used to be.
“Fuck me.” You knew how the words were intended but the suite spoke them as a request rather than a whisper under his breath.
“Maybe I will.” You snapped back. It was an overused joke, said hundreds of times all those years ago. But this wasn't your Master, this monster before you was a stranger. He looked at you for a moment longer and you hated how hard your heart was hammering. You were waiting for his attack. Your mind had half a hold on your lightsaber across the room. The force was vibrating through you while also being completely resistant to your request.
His large gloved hands moved to the sides of his sleek black helmet. The sound of air escaping sounded and he pulled the top half off. Your hand immediately reached towards him before you dropped it at your side. The state of his skin made you want to throw up. It was badly damaged, but it looked fresh. As if he had just fallen into lava yesterday. He took the bottom half of his mask off. Then he worked on unfastening his top.
“What are you doing?” You said in a high-pitched tone. You wanted him to cover himself, you didn't want your heart to reach out to his obvious suffering. You didn't want him to have Anakin’s features.
“Can’t fuck you in all this.” There was a collar around his neck that kept his voice the same. His eyes were red and they burned into your skin. You realize then that he’s serious. Panic washes through you, but there isn't a clear escape. Your mind is still preoccupied by the sight of his damaged flesh and prosthetic arms. They were metal, just like his hand used to be. You assumed he would have had them replaced with the new kind of prosthetics. He kept his gloves on and motioned for you to come up the steps to him.
“Don't lie to me Padawan.” He growled. “I can feel you pulling at me in the force.” His voice made you shiver but it wasn't you pulling on the force, the force was pulling you.
You resisted then felt his force presence grip you. Your clothes started to move off of you and you tried to fight him.
“Come to me.” He said and you resisted now almost naked. His eyes feasted on your form and you didn't know how but you were going to make him pay for this. While your mind was frozen with rage and fear your body was more than happy to fall into him. He pulled you across the room till you were in front of him. It was hardly fair to be naked and displayed in this way. He’d stripped you down and was now enjoying the sight of you, sitting comfortably on his throne, legs spread. No way he would actually force you into this, but then again there was a running list of things you thought he would never do. Unfortunately, when he checked an item off of it he tended to do it with as much dramatic flare as possible.
“I won't.” You said firmly.
“You will.” His voice was tauntingly calm. He pulled you onto his lap and you tried to break his grasp on you. He had undone his pants and you realized this was actually happening. “You have something I want.” He whispered causing your body to shudder. To your horror he gripped your hips tightly. You felt your body coming undone in his presence. The force was useless, it was pulling you to together. You could feel it now, he could bend it but he couldn't control it entirely. It pulsed around you pushing you further towards him, preparing your body.
The head of his cock pressed against your entrance you expected it to hurt. His goal was to hurt you, to punish you, and probably get you to spill about rebel plans. This was a torture session. But as he pulled your hips down you could feel how wet you were. Your body opened to him easily. The feeling of being stretched out for the first time in years overwhelmed you. His eyes are red so deeply clouded with rage, something inside you broke as he bottomed out. You wanted to see his brown eyes. You wanted him to be Anakin. Your face flushed at this realization and he groaned.
“Even now you still need me” The words turned your face red with embarrassment and shame. They cut you. But there was no anger in your body, only need.
Vader settled himself in your tight cunt.
“Move.” His deep voice commanded. It was beyond cruel to force you down on his cock only to make you fuck yourself on it. Your hips moved as if working on muscle memory. You moved slowly and every time you bottomed out on him he moaned. The sound made you pick your hips up and do it again. You would probably do it forever if it meant feeling this again. The pleasure he gave made your mind hazy.
He did something unexpected, his hands were large enough that he could move his grip slightly and brush your clit with is thumb. Just then he used his other hand to push your hips down. His cock reached deeper inside you and you felt it swell within your tight walls.
“Show me how bad you’ve missed me.” He commanded and your body responded to his touch. You came, walls collapsing against his cock, you felt his seed flood inside you. Your body helped him off, just like it used to. You felt your defenses fall, as your forehead pressed against his shoulder. He moved within your mind pulling from you your worst memories. He searched for something inside you and his grip on your mind hurt. Years flashed before your eyes and he gripped your hips tighter and tighter as you relieved your worst moments. He growled as every part of you was in submission to him once again.
He picked you up and pulled you down. He was using your body now, and you hated how easy it was for him. You did nothing while he lifted you and slammed you down on his cock. The pressure started to build inside you again.
“Cum.” He commanded and you felt your orgasm grip you tightly. Your pussy choked on his cock, and he continued to move you through it. Once again he filled you. You were too far gone to push back into his mind but you could feel a certain ache in his chest. One that belonged to you. Tears formed in your eyes as you felt his emotions but not his thoughts.
You felt his force presence wrap around your body. You laid back in it like it was bathwater letting it caress you. You were fully on display and watched his eyes devour where your pussy swallowed his cock. He loved how you were on display for him, he loved pleasuring you. His feelings for you were deep and consuming. This thumb found your clit and you bucked your hips against him. He remained seated moving in and out of you slowly, eyes focused on how his cock fit inside you.
Eventually, he stood. He set a ruthless pace, hammering into you. But in your half conscious state, you could feel that every time his emotions peaked into rage it would quickly turn to something warmer. He hated that he couldn't hate you, that he couldn't hurt you. That as badly as you needed him, he needed you even more. While his grip and pace were rough, his force presence was soft. Touching you in the ways he missed being able to touch you. He was touch starved and wild with your body.
You felt his need for you and choked on it as if it were a hand on your throat. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks as those deepest needs inside of you were finally held. You finally felt at home.
“Master.” The word rolled off your lips and then you couldn't stop saying it. You said it as if his old title could somehow bring him back to you. His voice was deep and he moaned loudly at your acceptance of him. He attacked your clit and your body was pulled under fully. Your vision was gone, and your ability to breathe was gone. You felt like you were going to die, maybe that was his desired outcome. You came for what felt like an eternity as he pumped more and more of his cum inside you. Finally, it’s grip on you ended and you felt him pull your limp body to his chest. His arms wrapped around you, the cold metal reminding you of what had been lost forever.
He held you tightly and you realized you were still crying. He tried to soothe you but the pain was inescapable. It took you a long moment to understand what it was. You weren't grieving him, you were feeling him. The pain coursing through his body at this moment. It ran the length of his spine and radiated out to what amount of limbs he had left.
Take this off - you demanded through the newly established force bond. You felt him hesitate before he realized he was hurting you too.
I don’t know if I can - He tried to unclasp it, only then did you feel his fear and then acceptance. It could be the only thing keeping him breathing, and yet he undid it regardless. Even if he died he had gotten his last wish. He held his breath and took the collar off. Breathing was challenging but not impossible without it. The pain diminished and you took a deep breath.
You took the collar from him and examined it, you quickly dropped it to the floor in horror. It had been designed to attach into his spinal column, disrupting his peripheral nervous system. The radiating pain finally stopped. Your fingers ran across the raw skin of his neck and you shuddered at his increased pain. You could also feel his pleasure, so starved for touch that he could adore your touches even if they caused him tremendous pain.
Take it all off - you urged him knowing it was the cause of most of his pain. He reluctantly pulled out of you and placed you on the edge of his desk. He slowly removed the rest of the suit and you felt him get lighter. You took in the full extent of the damage. The suit had been designed to dig into his flesh causing it not to heal properly. Your mind was still hazy but you reached out with the force and pulled a container of healing salve. It was so easy to feel and use the force now it felt strange to you.
No - He realized what it was the moment it landed in your hands. He picked you up quickly and carried you to the bathroom. He placed you down on the countertop and got a warm washcloth. He cleaned you carefully, then began to wash the rest of your body. His fingers run over the bruises forming on your skin. You could feel his distaste for the new scars that had been etched into your skin since the last time he saw you naked.
“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. His voice. Anakin’s voice without that stupid collar. You squeezed your eyes shut feeling it run through you. He sighed feeling your chest split open for him.
He carried you once again through the space into a smaller room. It had a large bed covered with black silky sheets. He set you down in it carefully. He could feel your arousal at his tenderness and he planned to fully enjoy it despite having just washed you.
You used the force to pull him down this time. You got him on his back and straddled him. You could feel his disapproval but didn’t care. You grabbed the container of salve and started with the deep gashes in his neck. He let out a sound of relief and you covered his scalp and face before moving to his torso.
You felt him let his guard down completely, you had free run of his thoughts as you treated him.
“Anakin.” You had never used his first name and it felt strange in your mouth. His body tensed but you continued. “I don't blame you.”
The words may have been more for yourself than him. His hands gripped the sheets and you could feel how much pain he was in at your words. But when you could feel someone's heart it made sense. You had known of the prophecy in it’s entirety for around three years, and only now could you feel what they actually ment.The years of slavery, The Order - you felt his last interaction with you. How he had insisted you leave The Order. Leave the war. Only now did you understand what he was trying to protect you from. The loss of your companionship only made it easier for Palpatine to pull him in. All he wanted was order and control. After being in pain his whole life it made sense. Palpatine’s warning to him that you would die in battle rang through his mind and it was your turn to grip the sheets and clench your jaw. His last fight with Obi-Wan, how much he hated himself for it. Dark memories of his surgery came in bursts and it felt as if you were experiencing it with him. Every memory after that was coated in a thick syrup of pain. Palpatine's rage and manipulation are so clear to you now, the way he regularly lashed out and tortured Anakin.
The moment Palpatine told him you were dead. The feelings he felt in that moment hit you. He had really thought you were gone all this time.
I didn't intend to show you that - he sounded deeply uncomfortable.
I guess you had something I wanted as well - Before he had a chance to react and ruin all the carefully placed salve, you got down between his legs. You felt his vulnerability and knew that it was likely to snap sending him back into his cave, further into the Sith. You didn't fancy having to fight him after your muscles felt like jello. You closed your mouth around him wondering how you used to do this. It was sloppy and uncoordinated as you tried to remember how to get him down your throat.
His mind moved back to the first time you had ever done this. You re-lived your shared memory. It was late and you had been training well passed when you should have been. After years of unresolved tension, when you had him pinned on his back, you moved into the same position you were now. You’d read your first romance novel and couldn’t stop reimagining the scenes with your master. You begged him to let you do it. You wanted to please him and feel pleasure so badly it was driving you mad. He’d let you, but only for a moment before forcing you on your back and eating you out. He hated taking from you if he wasn't also giving you pleasure.
“Tell me I was the last.” He said before groaning deeply as you moved him passed your gag reflex.
Last, and only - You hated yourself for it, but his abandonment had twisted you up so badly you could never trust another to get that close again. You felt him slip into ecstasy at this revelation. Quickly he pulled you hair and dragged you off his cock with a pop as his head slid from your lips. He pulled you up onto the bed with the force and you landed on the soft sheets. The salve was dry and you thanked him for waiting.
He moved inside you quickly then stopped. The feelings vibrating through the both of you were so strong. There was still the towering darkness in him that you left untouched. You had some of Anakin back, that would have to be enough for tonight.
Search your feelings - he gasped. You did and could feel it pulse through you. The force was moving in both of you in a way you had never felt before. It was harsh and raw, it was something bigger than the living force. Something deeper. The realization of what it was choked you.
Love - Not something Sith did. Not like this. Not pure like what was running through the both of you. He fucked you slowly, and you felt his surprise when you kissed him. He moved in and out of you with a tenderness that brought you over the edge in a different way. Something had permanently bonded between the two of you. Separating was impossible, but which side would win out. Would you be Sith? Or Jedi? Or your preferred option of nothing.
This orgasm left you drained. There was nothing more you could do tonight. Your mind was gone, vision blurry with sleep. Your eyelids became heavy and you felt him get up. He came back with a damp cloth and cleaned you once more. You could feel his fascination with your skin and wanted to ask him about it but couldn't.
________
Vader had pushed you too far. Your mind collapsed from all the feelings and sleep took you. He held you tightly in his arms only drifting off for an hour at a time. He would wake up startled having to check that you were still real. Then he’d have to check your pulse, feeling it with the force until he would drift off again. The force was taking him on a different path. One he had given up on long ago. But he knew that you were stubborn, he had his way with you last night but tomorrow would be a different story. You would either go with him back into the light or leave him. The thought of losing this power crushed him, but knowing he could be loved again would be worth it.
A feeling overtook him and he realized he would do anything to live within your love for him. The way he had treated you was unforgivable, and yet you had so carefully tended to his wounds. Even after he had just inflicted wounds on your own flesh you still cared for his. He pulled the pot of salve from his nightstand and carefully applied the last of it to the deep purple bruises he had left on your flesh.
He felt sick. He went to the dark side to end the war and prevent your death. He had ensured that you were safely away before crossing over. Palpatine had told him you were dead. He’d believed it, unable to feel you in the force till that ship had come into range. He wanted you to be untouched by his evil and last night he had all but raped you with it. Forcing your body to betray your mind. If he could get up without waking you he would have gone to the bathroom and vomited. The pain he felt was so great he felt you jump in his arms. Your head lifted from his shoulder. Your hair was a mess and your eyes could barely open, puffy from crying.
Does it hurt - I can put on more salve. - Your words were hazy even in the bond.
Go to sleep - he pushed away his frightening thoughts and tried to be calm to sooth you. Your head fell against his shoulder and you were out cold again.
He didn't have to do right by The Order, Obi-Wan, or Palpatine. He just needed to do right by you with what time he had left. The force was strong with you and your choices, so he made the choice to follow
Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan
#anakin skywalker#star wars#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker x reader smut#dark anakin skywalker#dark darth vader#darth vader#darth vader x reader#darth vader smut
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Small Minded
They say there are powers—unfathomable and unnamed—buried deep within the earth. Boons and banes and spirits and seductions call to the ambitious, but I've never known of someone actually finding one until now.
What does one say to a dark sorceress on the cusp of her victory?
My knight, so loyal and brave, wheezes and gasps for breath within his broken armor. Our roguish friend, normally so quick witted and talkative, lies silent and unmoving in a pool of blood. I don't have the strength left to heal either of them.
"Let it sink in, Princess. I've won."
She has. I bow my head in defeat.
"The Godsblood is mine."
It hovers within her reach, an unshaped carmine gem formed of the crystallized blood of whatever forgotten god was buried here. The sickly sweet scent of its power, like rotting fruit, fills the air.
"With it, I shall wield ultimate power."
Yes, the power to remake the world according to her whim, to raise mountains from the sea or to sink cities into the abyss at her pleasure, perhaps even to rewrite the laws of space and time if she desires.
"At last, I will depose your father and rule all of Rutennia in his place!"
I jerk my head upright and stare at her in disbelief. "What?"
The sorceress Velle grins like an idiot. "You heard me, Princess. Your whole kingdom will be mine."
My face must betray my feelings, judging by the way her confidence falters at my reaction. "You've claimed a power like this, and all you can think to do with it is take over this kingdom?"
"Your father—"
"Yes. I know." I wave off her explanation, disinterested. "He didn't see your worth, you wanted to show us all, I get it, but if all you wanted to do was rule Rutennia, you could have just courted me and then poisoned my father!" I scrub at my face in frustration and suppress a scream. "What small-minded ambitions!"
That throws her off balance. "Small minded? I won! I'm getting everything I want!"
"And what you want," I retort, "is a single grain of sand on a beach." I ball my hands into fists and stalk toward her, outraged that my friends died for so little. "You are a cat who stole a siege engine to catch the mouse that once eluded you. You wouldn't even know what to do with the kingdom once you had it."
Velle barks an indignant laugh. "As if the king does!" She casts a hand toward me, magically halting my approach. "No, he has others handle all the administrative duties so he can simply bask in the worship of his subjects!"
"And when the people don't worship you?" I ask through gritted teeth, "because trade with Melland and Istow has completely halted without their kings' cousin sitting our throne?"
"I'LL MAKE THEM!" She makes a tugging motion in the air, yanking me forward to shout the words in my face. "With the Godsblood I can make my subjects dance like puppets at my command! They will all kneel before my throne."
This close to the gem, the scent fills my senses. It leaves me feeling lightheaded, giddy, almost delirious, even. It draws an inappropriate giggle out of me before I can retort. "Build a doll out of cloth and sticks. Make it kneel. Put worshipful words in its mouth. It will mean just as much. Personally, I got tired of playing with dolls at age eight."
Her face reddens. "You think you can trick me into giving up my goals? You think you can convince me this power is worthless?"
"Worthless?" I cackle. "The power of a dead god, worthless? No, only the things you imagine doing with it are worthless. You want to know what you should do with all that power? I'll tell you."
She leans forward, obviously curious.
"Istow's ports give it mastery of the sea and trade we need," I explain, as if to a child, "but we don't need them if we bring the sea to us. Flood their plains, drown their whole nation if you'd like, but take that bargaining chip away."
Some dim, distant part of me says I shouldn't give her ideas, but every inhale of the intoxicating aroma of Godsblood fills my mind with visions of what that power can do. Why can't she see it as clearly as I do?
"Melland," I continue, "is weak but well defended by the terrain. Pull the mountains down onto their capital, swallow their impregnable fortress in a new chasm, and their resources become ours."
Velle's eyes light up with understanding. "Yes, yes, you're right!"
No, no, no, even I'm still thinking too small. Like a petty warlord with a mere weapon. But this is no weapon, it's the power of a god. I take a deep breath and focus. I need to be thinking like a god.
"No, why set our sights on conquering our neighbors," I muse aloud, "when there's a whole world out there to reshape? We don't need what they have. It's not a zero sum game anymore."
Judging by her face, I've lost Velle again, but I don't care. My thoughts race. With every breath I take, my vision crystallizes.
She doesn't need to understand. I don't speak for her to hear; I speak because I must. "A perfect world, answering only to me. Every river, every pebble, the mountains and the seas, the very stars in the sky, all mine…"
"No." The sorceress shakes her head and tightens her grip on the magical restraints holding me in place. "The Godsblood is mine. I found it. I got here first. You lost."
She sounds so petulant, so small. Velle doesn't understand power, not really. She's merely a spurned court magician who deluded herself into thinking she was more, not someone with the will to rule.
And this is no inert stone. The heart's blood of a god demands to be wielded. It demands the will to wield it.
It was mine the moment I decided it was mine.
Without transition, the stone is already in my hand. A twitch of a thought tears Velle's restraints to pieces, no more than a cobweb caught on a boot.
She's screaming, shouting something, flinging spells my way, but my attention falls instead upon the crumpled figures of my dear companions.
With a thought, I am no longer next to her. I stand beside my knight, seeing him inside and out. His body is a trifle to mend, and like wiping dust from a windowsill, I smooth away the injuries. With little effort, I scan the thoughts within his mind, and… oh, what useful secrets lurking within! Many ways to control this one if he chooses to resist me.
My thief is dead. I refuse to abide that for the only one I recall who could consistently make me laugh, and a god deserves a jester even more than a king, right? All it takes is a touch to reignite the spark of life and bid the soul return to its body; funny, I always imagined resurrection to be a more difficult process.
Last of all, my sorceress. I don't need to read her thoughts to recognize her profound denial of the reality of this situation. She flings chaotic bolts of fire and lightning and ice at me, howling threats and curses that mean very little.
If I want her as my high priestess, I should impress her more.
We stand in the middle of a great empty ribcage, and yes, I think a god-bone crown would suit me. Brittle ribs bend like supple grasses, shrink and weave themselves into an ornate crown to rest on my head. I crush the Godsblood gem in my fist and direct the shards to implant themselves in pleasing patterns within the bone.
Velle ceases her assault. I watch her delusions melt away upon witnessing me destroy the gem. The light of understanding dawns within her mind that my power is entirely mine, never to be stolen. A god-bone collar snakes around her neck as gently as a princess's gloved hand, and I can taste her complete surrender.
The whole world also aches for my touch, but it will have to wait just a little longer for my design to perfect it. There are many more boons and banes buried within this graveyard world, and I'll need every last one if I wish to extend my reach beyond even the stars.
And my first three worshippers still need training.
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heyy love, i love your fics so muchhh!! if ur requests are open, i was wondering if you could write this fun lil oneshot i thought of<3
(didn't really think much of the details but i imagined something like the episode with the pierce family, or u could change to what feels nice to u)
reader is like super hot/crazy attractive and the siblings are instantly interested. kendall and roman, being their idiot selves, start competing for her attention and trying to get her to accept going out etc. turns out, at the end of the day, shiv gets the girl, as she was the one reader wanted all along (gagged them)
Girls Get Girls
Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader
not gonna lie anon I feel like I didn’t do this too well so I’m so so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy even though I don’t really deliver x
btw I literally love you anon keep requesting
im so gay
Word Count: 2.893k
Mergers, acquisitions, stock, trade, liquidation. You couldn’t give a shit about any of it.
You’re not in the financial field at all, much to your parents’ disappointment. It’d brought you out of favor with them, brought your siblings closer to each other.
You usually don’t come to these things, but tonight it talk of selling the entire company. Leaving it all behind, cashing in the lotto, and fucking off. Your family had convinced you to come- despite your clear dislike for everything finance and business, you still hold stock and stake in the company. You were also going to get a pretty penny from your inheritance, so it would be wise to judge your potential buyer alongside your family.
You’re getting ready in your childhood bedroom, pacing the carpet as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. Your father had made it very clear: your job was to root out intention, then act accordingly. Regardless of whether you thought the Roys were worthy of the company or not is irrelevant at this moment. You need to be intimidating.
Intimidating, but also hot. Just for yourself.
A soft knock sounds at your door. “It’s me,” your cousin calls from the hall.
“Come in,” you call back.
She waltzes in, her blouse billowing behind her as she deposits herself on your bed. “Dad’s going to have an aneurysm.”
Even though you already know the answer, you ask, “Why?” You lean against your desk, facing her.
She snorts, knowing you’re trying to push her buttons. “He wants the company, dipshit. I still think all if this is to get on our nerves.”
“A chimp would do better as CEO than any of you,” you say, scoffing. What had started out as what you thought was joking was turning into something else.
“So why won’t you do it, then?” she asks, bitterly. “I don’t see why it has to be either you or someone out of the family entirely.”
“I’m not doing it because I don’t want to. My siblings also just… have no interest. We’re all off to bigger, better things.”
The two of you stare at each other until your father’s yelling draws you both from your trance.
“Up and at ’em,” he’s saying, pretty much to himself, once you’re downstairs. You brush imaginary dust from your sleeves as you make the awkward walk to the helipad. You and your brother share an exasperated look. Despite the fact that you’d been wedged apart over the years, you and your siblings share a lot of the same views and opinions.
“All this peacocking is fucking insane,” he mutters to you once you’re stopped a safe distance away from the pad.
“Just wait until you see them,” you mutter back.
Even though you weren’t involved in the business side of the company, you’d still been involved. You’d gone to dinners, conferences, galas. You were a bit of an outside source, as you held no real position in the company, but you knew you were vital.
At almost every event where someone with your last name was required to attend, there was also a Roy. You’d only ever seen them, never spoken to them
You hear the helicopter before you see it. Sunglasses perched on your nose, you look up. As it descends, your hair and jacket are blown vigorously back, and your hand goes to your scalp. The generated wind is aggressive, slicing over your skin, your clothing. The sound is now deafening, and you notice your sister clamping her hands over her ears. Your father gives her a look, something along the lines of don’t look weak, and your sister rolls her eyes in response, mouthing fuck you.
You have to suppress your smile. The helicopter’s landed, and people are starting to pile out.
“Logan, old friend,” your dad bellows jovially. While the two families had never met, never been close, you know your father and Logan Roy were actually the best of friends. You don’t know how they met. Your father spoke of Logan from as far back as undergrad university.
Your father steps forward, meeting Logan halfway as he leads the rest of his family towards yours. They envelope each other in a hug, and your brother snorts. He’s the only one who’s ever interacted with the Roys.
“It’s like he has a multiple personality disorder,” he’d told you the other day, talking about the enigma that was the head of the other family. “One second he’s laughing, then the minute Dad’s out the room, the guy’s raging over his kids or the people not doing enough work or whatever the fuck else is wrong with that stupid fucking company.”
He turns from your father to your mother, murmuring a warm greeting, then to the row of you, your sister, and your brother.
“Oh, look at the three of you! All grown and radiant,” he says heartily. So far, he doesn’t seem like the demon your younger brother had described him to be. But you know well enough that looks can be deceiving. He opens his arms out to you first, since you’re the eldest of the three. You give him an awkward hug, his hand clapping over your back in a friendly manner. “If only any of my children had the sense to get with you,” he mutters conspiratorially, earning a chuckle from you. He pats your shoulder, before moving on to your brother.
Logan’s wife is next. “Marcia,” she murmurs softly to you, taking you by the shoulders and air-kissing both your cheeks. You return the gesture as she does it, making sure to stay smiling. It’s all a flurry of names you’re sure you’re going to forget the second you need them. Connor, Gerri, Willa, Frank, Rhea. It’s really all just a bunch of letters bouncing around in your head.
Who you’re sure you will remember, though, are the siblings. The younger three. The important ones, your dad liked to call them.
As all of the ‘adults’ convened to chat amongst themselves, like they did when you were children, you and your sister are having a quiet conversation about your work. She’s in the middle of asking you to come out to her office to help you with something when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder. You turn, coming eye to eye with Kendall Roy.
“Hi,” he says carefully, small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve met?”
“No, we haven’t,” you say back. “Y/N.” You offer him your hand to shake, like your father expects you to do with everyone.
“Kendall.”
“Yeah, I know,” you say awkwardly. He manages a laugh, withdrawing his hand, his eyes flitting over your face.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, then, to, uh, put your name to your face.”
You’re not really sure what he means, but you don’t think you care that much.
“Move over, Kendall, you’re boring the shit out of her.” His brother comes over, bumping him with his hip. You have to stifle a laugh. “Roman.” You shake hands, offering him a polite smile. “He’s right, though. You’re a bit of a mystery to everyone.”
“Am I?” you ask, laughter seeping into your voice.
“Not to me.” Her voice is firm, clear. “I’m Shiv. I was at the conference you gave the Ethics presentation to. I know your work. My brothers are just stupid.”
You laugh for real this time. “Nice to meet you, Shiv. I’m familiar with your work, too. I’m just not so deep into the political sphere like you are.”
“I can help with that, you know,” she says, expression surprisingly soft. “I’ve been looking for someone that shares my opinions and… moral compass to work with. You need your rock, you know?”
The conglomerate of people slowly transitions inside. Roman and Kendall get roped into other conversations, your sister disappearing off to who knows where. You mill about in the dimly lit sitting room, watching everyone interact. Shiv’s still by your side.
“No offense, but I hate these things,” she says quietly, coming closer to you so you can hear.
You laugh lightly. “None taken.” You glance over at her to find that her eyes are already glued to you. You feel your face heat, her gaze flickering down your body before coming back up to your face. She has a sly smile on, but it’s quickly melting into one of real, soft emotion. You open your mouth to offer her something you’ll probably regret later, but are interrupted by your father clapping his hands together and waving everyone into the dining room. Instead, you give her an exasperated smile and follow the crowd.
Your father eyes you and your siblings as you all slip into your strategically chosen seats, making it so you’d all be surrounded by Roys. Your brother makes a face at you from the other side of the table. You ignore him, instead looking up at Shiv, who hovers by the chair at your left hand.
Almost shyly, she asks, “May I?”
“Please.”
A giddy smile spreads across her face as she sits, and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You look down into your plate, catching your sister’s gaze on you. Kendall takes the seat on your other side, Logan sitting directly across from you, right by your dad.
Roman and your brother are laughing over something as you get served the appetizer, your sister staring off into space while Connor talks at her rather than to her. Your mother speaks quietly with Marcia, and of course, your father and Logan are the loudest at the table, laughing and gesturing around.
Your cousin is on Kendall’s other side, overly-focused on her food. The conversation suddenly involves the entire table, Logan leaving forward. “What is it you do again, Y/N?”
You shrug lightly. “I work in media and risk analysis. Dabble a bit in economics.”
“So like Shiv?”
“Not really,” you and her say at the same time. You gesture with your fork, letting her continue.
“Our work certainly overlaps, and I’m glad it does,” she says, “but I’m more… political, she’s more… corporate.”
“If you dabbled in economics,” your cousin manages through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be here.”
“Neither would we if you did,” you retort calmly.
She scoffs. “I still don’t see why all of this is happening,” she says back, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. You look to your father, praying he’ll deal with it himself before she goes on some tirade, scaring off the buyer, but he makes no move. He simply glances at you, his gaze loaded.
Do it yourself.
You wait for a few moments, letting the tension strain the room. Maybe she’ll back off.
She doesn’t.
“The company is leaving family hands because of you, Y/N. It’s going to crash and burn because you refuse to fucking see what’s sitting in front of you.”
Logan’s lips press together into a thin line, and you know you have to recover. “I don’t want the company. Neither of my siblings want it. Don’t you think it’s a little telling you’re the only one lusting after it so loudly?”
“I don’t see what that has to say about me.”
“You want it, and you’re not getting it,” you say firmly. “You’re incompetent. The Roy name is not.”
Dinner is only silent for so much longer. Your brother, at his breaking point, asks loudly, “Why are you even here? You blew the Pierce deal. Fuck off.” Your father hisses something into your brother’s ear. He scoffs in response. “I’m sick of it, Dad. The three of us bust our asses to get this to go well for you and she gets to waltz in, do whatever the fuck she wants whenever the fuck she wants.” He quickly pushes back his chair from the table and makes his way out of the dining room.
Clearly, this is deeper than one stupid comment made at the dinner table. You throw a questioning glance at your sister. She gives a minute shake of her head. She doesn’t know.
Dramatically, your cousin follows your brother out. Roman is trying not to laugh, and all of a sudden, your father and Logan aren’t in the mood they were before.
You turn to Shiv, exasperated. She’s also stuffing a laugh down, and it’s contagious. “Is my juvenile family drama amusing to you?” you murmur to her questioningly, the soft clink of silverware and terse chatter filling the room.
“Yeah,” she says, nearly choking on a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid. How do you deal with it?”
“I never stay home.” You down the rest of the water in your glass.
“Hey, uh, Y/N,” Kendall begins, leaning towards you as you turn to face him. “I just wanted to say, I get how it feels.” He gestures vaguely around. “So if you want to, um, get some air after, I’d love to join you.”
You thank him sincerely, giving him a soft smile. Dessert finally comes out. You’re almost there. You turn back to Shiv, but she’s conversing with whoever’s on her other side, to your disappointment. You eat your cheesecake in silence, Roman catching your eye and giving you a wink. You didn’t know people actually did that, but he pulled it off nicely, you think.
When your father finally gets up, ushering everyone into the sitting room for drinks and chatter, you heave a sigh of relief. You trail behind the crowd, hoping to be able to slip away on your own.
You succeed. You sigh up at the high vaulted ceiling, padding towards the grand staircase up to your room.
“Hey, where’re you going?” comes a soft voice. You turn, Shiv, hurrying after you.
“Escaping,” you say jokingly, pausing on the stairs, letting her catch up to you.
“Can I come?”
“Yeah. You can.”
The sight of her sitting cross-legged on your bed does something to you. It sucks all the air from your body. But maybe that was just the sight of her.
"Your brother okay?" she asks, looking up at you.
"He'll be fine. Everyone's just a bit tense."
"Just so you know, your cousin's temper tantrum doesn't change anything."
"I'd hope it didn't."
"What would change things though," she tells you, "is whether you want to come on once we buy the company."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. I was serious when I was talking about how I need someone in my corner."
"What do you mean?"
"It's me. The company gets handed to me."
"Congratulations, Shiv. But really, I want nothing to do with it."
"I'd be running things. You'd just be my right hand woman. The very attractive right hand woman that I see every day."
You laugh, unable to suppress the grin splitting your face.
“My cousin’ll murder me,” you manage to say.
“So? Let her try. Not like you’ll go down or anything.” She smiles up at you. “I think that’s hot. You’re hot.”
Silence stretches between the two of you, both of you grinning at each other.
“You’re really pretty,” you breathe, believing she followed you for a reason.
“I’m glad you think so.” Her hands come to cup your jaw in the few instances it takes you to cross the room, slide onto your bed, and kiss her. “God, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous.”
“Yeah?” you ask against her lips, peppering gentle kisses onto them. “Stay the night.”
“I told everyone I went home,” she says, giggling.
Your hand flits to her hip, rubbing soothingly. Your kisses are slow, tender. You’re both enjoying yourselves. It feels so real. It feels like something more.
You slide off of her, off the bed, eliciting a whine from her pretty mouth. “Just locking the door, baby.”
You wake up, head buried in her chest. She’d borrowed some pajamas of yours, the shirt a soft cotton. Her breathing is light and airy, and it’s music to your ears. Her fingers are threaded in the hair at your scalp, her arm thrown over your back.
You drift in and out of consciousness until she wakes up, pressing kisses along your forehead. Shiv sits up, letting you stay settled in her lap. You press a hot kiss to her bare thigh, shorts hiked up her legs.
“You know,” she says, after a short while of silence, “Ken and Roman were drooling over you all night.”
You snort. “Were they?”
“I know them. They were. And here I am,” she says, satisfied with herself.
You let out an airy laugh. “Here you are.”
“I was drooling, too,” she admits.
“Can we stop talking about saliva?”
She pinches your ass, to which you don’t dignify with a reaction, instead smiling into her thigh. “I wanna keep seeing you.”
“I have to fly out to Italy for some work. Maybe I want you to come with me.”
“God, I love women.” Her hand cards through your hair. “Mind if I take a picture? I want to send it to my brothers.”
“Perv,” you mutter, but nod anyway. You smile at the camera from her thigh, pressing a searing kiss to the place where her leg meets her hip the moment she hits the button.
It captures her beautiful face in an ecstatic smile, yours in soft affection as you look up at her, not the camera.
#shiv roy#siobhan roy#shiv roy x you#shiv roy x reader#shiv roy x fem!reader#succession#succession hbo#succession fic#wambsgansshoelaces#succession x reader#anon ask#shiv roy oneshot#shiv roy fluff
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Promise Me
Johanna Mason X F!Reader
Warnings: Death, cursing, normal hunger games warnings, and brief mention of suicide.
Nothing about Y/N ever screamed ordinary to Johanna—you were every bit exciting and amazing from the day she met you until the day Snow stole you away. You were the kind of summer sunshine that brightened everyone you met in Seven, and Johanna was far from that. She was rigid and harsh, like salt into a wound. And for some reason, you were glued to her side.
“Joooooooooooo—” You drag out the nickname, throwing yourself across the lounge in the living room. You were going crazy watching her get ready for the tour, bored out of your mind—but you were here. Hardly left this house since Johanna came home.
She hmmms, turning in your direction and smiling as she spots your smile—you were the only reason she had left to smile. The Games had taken just about everything from her, but as you pout and reach out for her. Johanna is a fool for you, an absolute idiot. The cameras would be here shortly, but you did more than preoccupy her—you kept her sane.
“Yes Y/N?” You continue to reach out, gesturing her close and watch as she finally lets her resolve call and gives in. Something about how your palm melts around her fingers as she lets you pull her close, warmly smiling throughout the entire motion. That feeling just gives her a sense of belonging, of importance—that she wouldn’t trade for anything else.
“Is there something you need?” You feel the hum of her breath as she lays spooned against your chest. You know she’s smiling, even if you can’t see it.
“Nothing more than this.”
.
.
.
Johanna had walked into Victor’s Village like it was any other day, the Games had ended—her tributes dead, and the idea of holding you was just about the only thing on her mind.
First, she imagined herself walking in and you’re there to greet her. You don’t even wait for her to toss away her things before you have embraced her close. Your face buried in her shoulder, everything would slip through her fingers until they were free enough to hold you back.
Second, by the time you let go—Johanna would be relieved, the hate would melt away and that would be enough. You would smile at her, not happy or sad—but that soft and warm smile because you knew what she felt. Knew what she had seen.
Third, you would lead her to the living room where fresh tea and bread would be waiting. A soft spreadable cheese still cool, because you wanted everything to be perfect.
Fourth, she’d sit there all night with you in her arms. Trying to imagine anyone else, and unable—knowing that you were the one made for her. A perfect incarnation of sunshine, and even when she burdened you with her Games. You were always there when she woke up in the morning.
Five, every year was the same thing… Johanna liked that she knew what to expect from you at every turn. The simplicity of knowing where your head is at. It made up for the unpredictability of the Games themselves. Took her far away from those thoughts.
Si-, the door is ajar—Johanna hesitates on the porch, something about the rush of blood to her head makes the world sit sideways. On edge. Like she’s trying to walk through the portal.
You never leave the door open.
Seven, she finds the courage to place her hand against the rough edge of the door. One slip and her fingers would be splintered, it was as if someone had forced their way in. Breaking the trim. There is no rush of fresh bread, or sweet candles you burned so often. There was no you at all. Just a long empty hall. One that is too quiet.
Ei-eight, Johanna knows what’s coming before she even turns the corner… something about the thick metallic smell had a mist already formed in her eyes. She couldn’t even feel her hands that guided her through the home, but there you were.
Nine. She stares at the note as if it could burst into flames, willing it to—Snow. It was easy to decipher the meaning. She got nine years with Y/N. Her perfect match. And Snow gave her nine chances to accept his offer, and she refused them all. Too loyal to her Y/N…
Johanna saw her fair share of dead bodies in the arena, but when the note slips out of her fingers. Her body had gone into autopilot, rushing your form that is hidden by the coffee table.
“Y/N!” Her knees ache as they hit hardwood, the heavy pound of her heart is all she hears as she tries to find a pulse. To will your heart into a steady beat, but it is already gone. And all Johanna could do was sit there and know. “Please don’t-” The words broke off, because they didn’t matter.
You were already gone.
Johanna sat there for the rest of the night, wishing for any sign of life. She could barely stand it when the peacekeepers finally came for your body.
The rumors said you did it to yourself, downed a bottle of pills, but Johanna knew better than that. Knew the edge to her voice was warranted as she tried to silence ever lie, because you wouldn’t.
You didn’t.
Snow just made it seem like you did. That Johanna had finally told you one too many stories, put one too many burdens on you.
She had nine chances, and chose you all nine times… and inadvertently, ended it all.
.
.
.
In District Thirteen, Johanna still found herself seeing you as she did in the Capitol. You were smiling again, the morphine induced visions seemed more joyous than those made by torture. You laid with her, and smiled—made the worst of the dreams disappear.
Even when the morphine wore off, you were still there and Johanna appreciated the memories. Sometimes, if she let herself forget about your death—she would almost believe you were still alive. That it was really you watching over her. Just like you promised you would.
Watching the wedding, something in Johanna felt emptier wondering if she would have married you? She would have asked eventually, no one got her the way you did. You knew when she was upset, or sad, or happy by the smallest twitch in her expression.
Would you wear a dress? Would it be white? Would you kiss her in front of no one, with no family or would your friends be there? Would you have lived through the games? The revolution?
Katniss is next to her, but Johanna’s mind is far off—wondering where you are. How you are? Did you finally figure out what’s after death? Will you still be waiting for her?
“Her name was Y/N…” It was unprovoked, but it was the first time Johanna had managed to speak your name out loud. She couldn’t bare to say a syllable after you died, it was like sending shockwaves through her whole body. Every. Single. Time.
“What?”
“The girl I love. Her name is Y/N.” Johanna briefly sees a flash of your eyes from memory, the brightness shining through even though it is only a thought.
Katniss could hear the echo of what Johanna had said during the Quell: “There’s no one left I love.”
“Snow killed her a year after I won. She was just about the only person I cared about, someone ought to know that much.” She pauses, the words caught in her throat as she looks over at Katniss.
“He has to pay for what he’s done.”
#imagines#requests#reign imagines#x reader#reader insert#request away#imagine requests#hunger games imagines#johanna mason#johanna Mason x reader#fem reader#fem x fem
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a/n: part two for this request - "may i request a fem reader x anthony lockwood where reader is a super talented fittes agent who constantly trades barbs with lockwood but he soon realises she fancies him so he ends up teasing her during missions by doing small stuff like pulling her close and calling her babe when no one is around - since quite a few of you wanted one! if you want to find it on my masterlist, it's called Love, simply because I'm terrible at naming my fanfics lmao. i hope you enjoy!
warnings: mentions of death/suicide (very vague), language female reader taglist: @cassiopeiia24 @nessa-stark @galactidiot @randomfanficreader @tom-foolery-time
part 1
Loneliness. Terrible, suffocating loneliness. It's thick and cloying and it's getting harder to breathe. God, your throat is closing up and your lungs hurt, weighed down by this strong sense of isolation and abandonment. How are you meant to function when it's so powerful, so heartbreaking? It's overtaking your heart, filling your lungs, intoxicating your blood.
With a feeling like whiplash, you're torn from your vision, and your hand is tugged away from the tree branch and placed on someone's chest. You can feel someone's heartbeat, steady and reassuring, and your own slows. Breathing is a little easier now.
"You're okay, love. I'm here."
The voice shakes you out of your daze, and your eyes snap open, only to be met with the face of Anthony Lockwood.
The setting sun is working wonders on him. Gold and orange rays of light fight for dominance on those high cheekbones and the tip of his nose. His dark eyes swirl with hues of copper and caramel. His lips, turned down slightly with worry, hide the possibility of a bright smile as you look at him.
"Don't -"
"Call you that," he finishes. "Yes, I know. You realise that the more you tell me not to, the more I will."
You scowl at him, but you don't move. A month ago, you would've pulled out of his grip and away from him within a second but, now, you can't bring yourself to.
He knows this all too well, and he revels in it. More often now does he find some excuse to have you touch him. Oh, (name), pass me some salt bombs, won't you? Followed by a not-so-subtle brush of fingers. Do I have lavender in my hair? Get it out, please, the scent becomes too strong sometimes. And there's usually no way for you to get out of shaking it out of his hair because he often puts your hand there himself. Let me walk you home. Then he'll drape an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close or safe as he calls it.
Maybe you've bolstered this attitude of his because more often than not, you don't object. Yes, you'll call him an idiot or a twat or something more insulting, but you've come to welcome these touches, however fleeting they may or may not be.
So, now, with your fingers splayed over his white shirt, it's almost as if you can't bring yourself to move. It doesn't seem like Lockwood is particularly fussed about moving, either.
"What did you see?" he asks, eyeing you carefully. "Something seemed different."
Despite your team's displeasure about paired up so frequently with Lockwood and Co for certain cases by DEPRAC, you haven't been too bothered by it. You and Lockwood have begun working like a team, figuring out each other's tells and habits while still throwing insults and remarks back and forwards. He's become used to watching you use Touch to figure out where sources are, learning how your body reacts in accordance to different things.
You don't want to tell him that this particular vision fed into your own feelings, so instead you say, "It was just stronger than usual. We're close. Very close."
At last, his hand releases yours, and he places his hands on his hips, staring up at the towering tree before you. Members from both of your teams linger around the whole park, scouting out for any clues as to where the source is, seemingly with no luck. The reason for that is likely the pairings. Lucy and Kat and Ned, George and Bobby and Kipps. None of them are getting on particularly well.
"You think it's the branch itself?"
"I'm not sure." You flash your torchlight on the thick branch. "This guy, well, you know... His body was found here after days of just..."
"Hanging there."
"Thank you for that input. But yes. It would make sense. The rope had to be cut off because it was tied so tight. And the emotions were extremely strong, so it would be my best bet."
"Well, whatever you say, love."
You purse your lips. "You're insufferable."
"You love that about me."
Fighting down the urge to strangle him, you pull your silver net out of your belt. "I say we place the net over the branch, see if the ghost still appears. If it does, well, we're fucked, to put it simply. I'll be completely clueless. But, if it doesn't, then we can secure it in place overnight and get someone to remove the branch in the morning."
"Aye, aye, captain."
"Shut up."
Lockwood grins at you then, so bright and dazzling that for a moment you're frozen.
Maybe it affects you the way it does because it's something you've lacked for years. You can't remember the last time someone smiled at you with such joy before Lockwood, as if you've done something to deserve it.
Gently, he takes the silver net from your hands and swings out over the branch before stepping back and looking at it like he's just finished some incredible piece of art. You roll your eyes, glancing back at your teams again.
"I think Barnes pairs us up on purpose," you say. "He knows we don't all get on."
"We get on tremendously," Lockwood remarks. "We went from you insulting my clothes and face, and me making fun of your moods, to being the best of friends."
Frowning, you say, "I wouldn't say 'the best of friends'. I tolerate you, Lockwood. And your face and fashion haven't improved over this last month, I hope you know. I mean, come on, grey tie and pink socks? It's like you're taking inspiration from some raw salmon. Do I have to buy you some socks for your Christmas?"
He nudges your shoulder with his. "You hear yourself? You're on about getting me a Christmas present!"
His fingers brush yours then, and you almost jump from the contact. His hand is warm against the back of yours, and your fingers twitch slightly with the urge to entwine with his, even if part of you is telling you not to do it.
With a jolt, you step away. "Let's wait for this ghost. I'll let the others know about the plan."
There's something in his eyes, an unfamiliar spark within their darkness, that sends heat to your cheeks and a flutter in your stomach. But you turn away, adamant that you won't fall for his charm or whatever this is. You won't. Maybe.
--
"Oh, I've been looking for that!"
You turn as you throw a bag of pasta into your shopping basket, stopping short when you see Lockwood standing on the opposite side of the aisle. He's dressed in his usual shirt-trousers-ridiculously-long-jacket get-up, grinning with a basket hooked over his arm. For a minute, you're confused about what he means, and then you realise which hoodie you're wearing. His grey one.
In your defence, you thought you had picked up your grey Fittes one and had been a little confused by the length of it on you, but now you realise that it is not yours at all but the one he gave you a month ago. The one you keep forgetting to give him.
"Oh, yes. Um, I'll get it back to you soon."
He laughs and says, "You've told me that for weeks now. You might as well keep it now, love."
You glance down at the hoodie, fingers fiddling with the old hem. "I'll get it back to you."
"Whatever you say."
His smile is blinding, and you find yourself smiling, too. It's only a little tug at the corner of your lips, but you can see the happiness in his eyes at the sight of it. It makes something in your chest feel warm and proud and loved.
Loved. The word sends sparks down your spine. When was the last time you felt like that?
"Well, I have to get going," Lockwood says, gesturing to his basket. "George is getting tetchy and we have almost no food left in the house. I'm worried I'll get home and the house will have been destroyed in his rage."
You snort. "Kipps is the same at the Fittes offices. I try and steer clear of him when he's in a mood. He's worse than me."
"Worse than you? Sorry, love, but that's hard to believe."
"Oh, be quiet." You give him a look, and humour glints in his eyes. "I was going to offer to give you warnings of when he's particularly irritated, but I won't, now. You can just suffer."
"You have to admit," he says, "that Kipps is awfully funny when he's mad. He goes red as a tomato."
"He does."
Lockwood's smile softens to something more private, and your heart skips a beat. You want to curse at yourself. It's been a month of spending more cases together, of him walking you home late at night or catching you unawares, and already you feel differently about him. Once, you saw him as nothing more but an arrogant boy whom you couldn't stand, whose very presence had you on edge. Although you enjoyed taking the mick out of him and riling him up, you wanted to keep your interactions to a minimum.
But now?
God, you're not sure what changed. Maybe it's the way he smiles at you like he's proud of you for everything you've done and gone through, and so endlessly happy with you for simply existing. Maybe it's the gentle touches of reassurance and how he has somehow come to know your tells of nervousness or apprehension. Maybe it's how he's come to know you so well, well enough to slip little snacks you like into your kitbag for you to find on later cases when it's just you and your Fittes team.
Even now, you can spot your favourite biscuits in his basket - biscuits you're aware nobody in his house likes.
"I'll see you around," Lockwood says with his enchanting smile.
It brings out a slightly bigger smile from you. "See you, Lockwood."
As he brushes past you, his fingers twitch as if to latch onto yours, and he says, "Call me Anthony from now on, love."
"All right," you murmur. "Anthony."
--
"I'm going to kill you one day."
Lockwood breathes a laugh, peering around the corner of the street. "Who would provide you such amazing entertainment if not for me?"
You draw your rapier. "Anyone. Quite literally anyone. You know, there's this thing called salt, and Kat puts it in Bobby's coffee when he's not looking sometimes. However, now is really not the time for that. Are those Rawbones still looking for us?"
"No."
"Oh, good."
"Well, not really. They've found us."
A horrible wail pierces your ears, one that Lockwood can't hear, and you flinch, glancing past him and to the ghosts that are leering at you. Rawbones, terrible variations of Wraiths, with no skin and bulging eyes. The sound of their teeth grinding sets the hairs on your arms on end., and the glare you send his way is scathing.
"I told you we should've just left!"
"Nonsense." Lockwood's rapier is moving fluidly in front of him, keeping the Visitors at bay. "You're the best agent I know besides myself. We can handle these."
Scowling, you throw a salt bomb at each of the two Rawbones. "Just because we can, doesn't mean we should. We've no way of finding a source!"
"Hey, think about it. If these guys kill us, then at least you won't have had to get your hands dirty killing me. Either way, we can dispatch them easily."
You glower at him and throw another salt bomb, watching the flakes disintegrate parts of the other-light and speckle the ground. "Who would even want to haunt a street with a greasy chippy and stinking public toilets?"
He grins as he looks back at you. "Maybe they were particularly fond of the chippy. Can't beat fish and chips on a Friday night. Are you a mushy peas or gravy kind of girl?"
"At the moment, neither!"
One of the Rawbones takes its chance with his peas-or-gravy distraction and launches towards Lockwood, but it never gets the chance. With all your force, you shove him out of the way, and you both slam into the wall. A harsh chill overtakes you, and you're dimly aware of a tingling pain in your arm, but you ignore it, throwing another salt bomb.
Lockwood takes up holding them back with his rapier, and it's then that you notice your jumper's sleeve steaming, a section of it burned away by ectoplasm. You hadn't been expecting to be out so late and for so long, so you didn't think to bring your thick jacket with you. Regretting your decision, you stare as the skin of your arm starts turning blue.
"Anthony?"
"Mm?" He doesn't look away from the ghosts.
"We - we have an issue."
"Do we? I think we're handling this quite well. My shoulder hurts from slamming into a brick wall, but -"
"Anthony!"
He glances back at you, his eyes immediately drawn to your burned and smoking sleeve, and the blue, swelling skin beneath. He pales momentarily, gritting his teeth, and something overtakes his expression. Anger. But not at you.
"Cover your ears and get back behind that bin over there."
"You can't be serious. It's surrounded by mouldy bananas and -"
"Go!"
The urgency in his voice has you moving before you even realise it. Ducked behind the big bin a few feet away, you peer around it and try to block out the horrible smell. Lockwood is still holding off the pair of Rawbones, but he's holding something in his free hand. It's only when he's running over to you to take cover that it was a magnesium flare.
An explosion shakes the ground, and although you had covered your ears, they still ring loudly. You can't hear what Lockwood is saying, but he drags you away by your good arm and down the street in the opposite direction from the ghosts. They're not gone permanently, but the flare has given you enough time to make your escape.
It's only when you're a few streets away that you both stop to catch your breaths beside an old phone box. You're struggling, feeling as though you're trying to breathe through a single straw, and your skin feels weird. Overly aware of the inner workings beneath it.
"Anthony," you repeat, but your voice isn't as strong.
Your legs are shaking, and you can't feel your arm anymore. You can faintly hear him speaking in the phone box, asking for an ambulance, and then he's in front of you, catching you as you stumble against a shop wall and to your knees. He tears the sleeve off your jumper, preventing any more ectoplasm from getting on your arm. Not that it would make a difference. It's already getting worse.
"You'll be all right, love," he promises, holding you close to his chest as you shiver. "An ambulance is coming. They'll be here soon."
You don't have the energy to speak, but you manage a small nod.
"They'll give you an adrenaline shot, and you'll be fine. You can get right back to insulting me."
His shirt is warm beneath your hand as you grip it weakly. It's a strange sensation feeling your organs slowly stop working. Already, your pulse sounds weaker in your ears.
"Hey, stay with me."
Your eyes find his and, for a moment, everything's all right. They're warm and soft and so, so comforting, and he's giving you that private smile he's taken to sharing with you. His cheeks are rosy, and salt is dusted in his hair like snow. Your lips tug in a meagre attempt at a smile.
"You're an asshat," you manage. "We should've gone the way I said."
He breathes a laugh. "Yeah, we should've."
His hand brushes hair from your eyes, lingering on your cheek for a moment, and you lean into the touch, relishing in the feeling of his pulse against your skin. If you don't think too hard, you can pretend it's yours and that your organs aren't on shutdown.
"Hey, look," Lockwood says gently. "See the lights, love? Ambulance is here to help you. You'll get that adrenaline and you'll be fine."
And you know you will be. His voice is so genuine that you know he's not just saying it to ease your mind. You've seen agents and civilians with ghost-touch, seen their skin turn blue and swell and their lives slowly drain away when the ambulances took too long to reach them. But you'll be okay. As long as Lockwood stays with you.
--
Giving Anthony Lockwood your address was the best idea you've ever had.
He knows where you hide your spare key outside of your flat, so he lets himself in as you lounge on your sofa, watching the news on your old TV. For now, you're out of action, your arm still taking time to recover from ghost-touch, though you're all right in most other senses.
Your arm aches still and has taken to staying a faint shade of blue, and sometimes you have the unshakeable fear that you've not been cured of the ghost-touch, but you always come out of it fine.
The one benefit of being on sick leave is that Lockwood stops by every single day without fail with a coffee from your favourite café, along with a fresh packet of your favourite biscuits and a newspaper. You're not big on reading the newspapers, but you figure he brings them simply because his face is appearing in them more and more, and he wants to show off.
"Oh, you're an angel," you murmur as you take the coffee from his hands, taking a long sip of it and sighing contentedly.
He beams at you, scattering the biscuits onto a plate. He does that so you can gradually eat them over the day without having to struggle to pick them out of the packet, but you're sure he knows that you scoff them all the minute he leaves. As soon as you're back out of your flat and working, you're going to have to get back to your morning runs. Maybe the runs can be you running to the shop to buy more...
"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he says, bringing the plate over and setting it on your coffee table. "I'll pretend you've said it because you adore me so and not because I've turned into your slave."
You smile sweetly over the lid of your cup. "You don't have to get me stuff. I've told you this. It's your fault for being a stubborn ass."
He laughs, sitting at the end of the sofa, just beside where your feet are curled up. "And there's the name-calling. Glad to know you're getting better, love. Besides, if I can make life a little easier for you, I may as well. Now you owe me."
"So it's not out of the kindness of your heart, then?" You roll your eyes, taking another sip of coffee. "And I thought we were friends."
Raising an eyebrow, he says, "Just friends?"
For a second, something in your chest constricts and you can't look at him. "I mean, if you really want to say best friends, you can go for it, but I'm not really in the business of -"
"Just shut up and admit you like me already, love. It's agonising watching this play out."
You freeze, mouth slightly opened and eyes wide. Lockwood looks at you with a smug expression, eyes glittering with something - mischief, glee. Swallowing the lump in your throat and closing your mouth, you look away from those dark eyes of his.
Growing up how you did, it's always been hard for you to discern your feelings beyond irritation and anger. The more time you spent with Lockwood, the more things you felt and the more confusing everything became. Finally, you had a friend, someone you could laugh with and explore a part of you that you've never been permitted to. You've found out that you like things you never thought you would, like walking home in the dark, pulled close to someone's side. Shopping with the hopes of seeing the people you know and care for. Reading. Feeling someone's arms around you. Being smiled at in a way that makes you feel warm and mushy inside.
Lockwood has been the one to start the change, to awaken these feelings inside of you. Before him, you were lonely. Horribly so, and your anger was a way for you to mask that. But ever since your time spent together, one particular feeling has always stood out, and you've never been able to understand it.
Love.
You're not really sure what love is, but you know you feel it when he's around. When he grins at you in that special way of his, or when he plays with your fingers on long walks home, trying to figure out what each line and crease means as if he's a palm reader. When he keeps you close to his side and steps in front of you, shielding you from ghosts even though you're more than capable of taking care of yourself.
Love might be the feeling of happiness in your chest when you look at him. It might be the flutter you get in your tummy when his name is spoken, or his skin touches yours.
"I..." You struggle with the words.
But he understands. You know with the way the corners of his lips twitch and his nose crinkles that he understands. You've never been good at communicating verbally, something he's begun to learn.
"I've known for a while," he says. "I'm irresistible, after all."
The humour helps ease the whirlwind in your mind. "You're insufferable."
He leans over, his fingers brushing yours before latching on. You've had this exact conversation before. "You love me for it."
You do. You really do.
So you don't move away when his face nears yours, watching as he slowly comes closer, closer, closer. His eyes are so bright, speckled with so many shades of bronze and copper and gold, and so happy.
No, you do move. You lean forward, and all of a sudden your lips are on his and his hands are pulling your face impossibly closer and you're clutching onto him with your good hand. And you're spiralling, down and down into this feeling people call love, falling onto it like a soft bed you've never had the privilege to sleep in before. There's an ever-so-faint taste of bitter tea on his lips, which are so soft it shouldn't be real.
But it is. It's so, so real, and you're kissing him. He's kissing you. The world melts away. You feel like you're exploding in bursts of colour and flowers and stars until you're nothing more than the air that surrounds you.
And when he pulls away, you smile wider than you ever have before.
#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood x reader#lockwood and co x reader#lockwood and co fanfiction#lockwood and co#lockwood and co netflix#anthony lockwood#lucy carlyle#george karim#x reader#fanfiction#givemea-dam-break
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AU-gust, Day One: Sculpture Artist
I saw the prompts and this grabbed me by the throat! I wrote it in about an hour, so my apologies if it's not up to my normal quality.
Steve wasn’t good at a lot of things.
He wasn’t very intelligent; while everyone else in town eagerly devoured the latest books delivered monthly by Murray, the traveling librarian, Steve struggled to make it through the first few pages. (He thought it might have been a curse at first, the way that the letters and words moved all over the page. When he had asked Madam Byers, the town witch, she had just smiled sadly at him and, well, he already knew everyone thought he was an idiot. He should really be used to it by now.)
He wasn’t the strongest or most athletic either; that honor belonged to Sir Hargrove and his knights. (Once upon a time Steve had been the one the town was counting on for protection. He was the one getting parades in the streets, catching handkerchiefs thrown by all of the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. He was the son of Sir Harrington, after all.
But when the darkness came, when he took his stand against the creatures that appeared like smoke out of the great forest, his knights – his friends – abandoned him.
All except for Sir Hargrove, for Billy, his – well, it doesn’t matter anymore now, does it? All that matters is that Billy stuck his own sword into Steve’s back and left him to the creatures, only “rescuing” him once the damage had been done. And it did not matter what Steve said, or that there was a mark that clearly belonged to a sword on his spine; Billy, who was shortly knighted by Steve’s own father soon after, emerged the victor, flawless and golden.)
He was no longer the handsomest man in town (not next to Billy, not with scars all over his body.) He did not know a useful trade, given that he was not trained to have such. If he was the best at anything, it was at being a disappointment. An embarrassment. So much for the Harrington name, people still said on his infrequent ventures into town. Such a shame, such a waste.
So no, Steve formerly-of-House-Harrington was not particularly special in any way. If he had had some wit, or maintained some beauty, or was able to discuss the latest tales from court, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps he would have been accepted by the town. Instead, he lived in a small thatched cottage a morning’s ride away from the rest of Hawkins (the only thing his father gave him before taking his name, his money and his protection) and spent his days working in his garden, caring for his few elderly animals, and entertaining the children of the neighboring shepherds.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true; he did also work on his sculpting.
(The stone was from Robin, a traveling student. She had run into some trouble with her horse while passing through and Steve might not have been a knight anymore, but he still knew how to care for horses. Robin had offered to pay him for his help, but he would not accept it. It was payment enough to have someone his age to talk to. It was nice, to spend time with someone who did not know him as the former knight of Hawkins, as the disgraced noble he truly was; she just knew him as Steve and she saw a potential in him that he didn’t see in himself.
You are good with your hands, she had written in the note that had accompanied the massive piles of stone, delivered straight from the royal quarry. And you have much love in your heart. May this inspire you to see your own strength and beauty once again.)
She had probably expected him to use it to build a well, or perhaps some sort of fence for his small piece of land. But when he looked at the stone – a beautiful, shining white, the likes of which seemed far too grand for his small corner of the world – he could not see it serving such a purpose. No; this was made for something more.
He had never studied the arts; why would he, Steve of House Harrington, future knight of the realm, have had any need to learn what his father believed was woman’s work? Formal training, then, was something he did not have. But he did have fine tools, given to him by Madam Byers; he had a pair of crystal glasses, lent to him by Dustin, his favorite shepherd; and he had ample amounts of time to go slow, to focus on the task at hand. (Not that he really knew what he was creating, just that he was creating something.)
And so the months flew by: summer turned to fall and fall turned to winter, and when Steve was not doing his chores or tending to the young, he was slowly and patiently chipping away at the block of stone that he kept safely sheltered inside his small home, next to the worn-down hearth.
It wasn’t until he had knocked away the final chip of stone, until his bones had rattled with knowing that it was done, it was finally done, that Steve had finally realized just what he’d created.
It was a man, one near his age. He had the long hair of nobility, curled tresses that cascaded down his bare shoulders; he was clad in a simple robe much like the masters of old; large rings adorned his fingers, rings that proclaimed the man in front of him to be of royal blood. His feet were bare, as were his legs, and they were strong; he felt that if he looked closely enough, Steve would be able to see defined muscles underneath skin.
But the most striking part of the statute – aside from his royal dress and stature – was his face: a royal, aquiline nose above lips that were flushed with life and there, nestled under a noble brow, a pair of large, soulful eyes. The eyes were the same color as the rest of the statue, of course, but Steve found that the longer he stared into them, the more he felt that this statue, this man was staring back.
It didn’t seem possible, the longer Steve looked at it – at him. It didn’t seem possible that someone like Steve – the disgrace of Hawkins – could create something so beautiful, so ethereal, so entirely arresting as the man in front of him, because this man was the most beautiful man – human or statue – that Steve had ever seen.
And suddenly, Steve couldn’t bear to look at it. Couldn’t bear to live in a world where the thing that he was most proud of, that he had poured all of his time and attention and love into, was something that could never possibly return it. And even if the statue came alive, somehow, even if this perfect man was human, what would he possibly see in someone like Steve when there was a world of better, smarter, handsomer men out there?
Steve turned and reached for his hammer, the one blunt instrument that remained unused from Madam Byers' gift. He turned back around and, with a mighty cry, swung the hammer at the statue and sent it shattering into a thousand different pieces.
He expected that he would have to spend the rest of the night cleaning up the ruins of the one wonderful thing he had ever done.
He did not expect the stone to shatter and reveal a flesh and blood man standing before him.
The last of the stone fell to the ground and the man took a deep breath. He blinked once, twice, and then his eyes alighted on Steve. The moment their eyes met, the man’s formerly taciturn expression transformed into the brightest smile Steve had ever seen.
And it was a smile that was aimed at him.
“There you are,” the man said. He stepped forward and took Steve’s hand in his own. “I have been waiting a long time for you.”
Steve cleared his throat and looked down, unable to bear the enduring warmth in the man’s eyes. “I – I am sorry to disappoint you, my lord.”
“No,” the man chastened him, and a warm hand tucked itself under his cheek, pulling Steve’s eyes back to meet his. “You are everything I have been waiting for.”
“I'm afraid you must be mistaken, for I am just Steve. I can offer you nothing.”
“And I am just Eddie, and you are not just Steve,” the man – Eddie – replied firmly. “You are a kind man with a good heart. You care for other people and expect nothing in return. And most importantly of all, you dedicate your time and your love to everything, even things that cannot love you in return. Those are qualities sorely lacking in this world, and that makes them all the more valuable.
“I foresaw you long, long ago Steve of House Harrington,” the man finished quietly, a small smile now on his face. “And I would consign myself to thousands more years behind stone if it meant that one day I would find you.”
Steve did not know when he started to cry, he just knew that he had tears in his eyes. “You do me great honor, my lord.” Reaching for Eddie’s hands, the hands that oh-so-gently held Steve’s face, Steve drew them to his mouth and pressed watery kisses against his rings. “I will spend my life to be worthy of that. To be worthy of you.”
“Dear one,” Eddie said, and he laid his forehead against Steve. “You already are.”
Steve knew that he wasn’t good at a lot of things. He would never be the smartest, or the strongest, or the handsomest, or the most clever man in the world, or maybe even in Hawkins. But as Steve kissed his Eddie – his Eddie, who had travelled across time and magic to reach him – none of that mattered anymore. Because he might not have all of those things, but he did have love.
And what could possibly be more important than that?
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#steddie fanfic#steve harrington my beloved#august fanfic challenge
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